#i will ask and i will request and i will trust in the goodness of strangers

[gf2bellamy]

obsessed with the idea of a nervous spencer trying to hide his new relationship with a member of his team (reader) during a case where they share a hotel room and bringing up like statistics of secret relationships or something like that and needing the reassurance that everythings fine [i’d like to request non freaky if possible, but it’s ultimately up to you :) ] have a good say!!

secret — spencer reid

pairing : spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing i think ? a/n: thank you for your request !! i absolutely loved this idea it's so cute i hope you like this !! <3

You collapsed onto the bed with a heavy sigh, your muscles aching from hours of travel and the stress of the case. The moment your body hit the soft mattress, you could feel your eyelids growing heavier, and exhaustion seemed to envelop you like a thick blanket.

You were so tired, you could have easily fallen asleep right there, still fully dressed. 

“Don’t fall asleep yet,” Spencer's voice pulled you from your drowsy haze. His voice was soft, almost gentle, but you could hear the amusement in it. “You need to change out of your outside clothes.” 

You groaned, half-heartedly rolling over onto your back, your arm flopping across your eyes. “What for?” you mumbled, not even bothering to lift your head.

Spencer chuckled quietly as he dropped both your bags and his onto the floor with a soft thud. He leaned against the foot of the bed, his eyes scanning your tired form.

“Hotch will probably pull us out of bed in the middle of the night anyway,” you added with a hint of frustration in your tone. “Might as well be ready, right?” 

You cracked open an eye, and there he was—Spencer, standing there with that familiar, sweet smile that made your heart do a little flip. 

“Come on,” he said gently, offering his hand to you, his fingers extended toward you.

You hesitated for a moment, letting out a small sigh of frustration. But something about his smile, about the way he always knew how to make you feel just a little bit lighter, made it hard to resist. 

With a reluctant but trusting motion, you placed your hand in his, allowing him to gently pull you up.

Spencer bent down to grab one of the bags, rummaging through it for a moment before pulling out your favorite hoodie and a pair of soft sweatpants. "Here," he said gently, handing them to you.

His voice was soft, and his eyes sparkled with that quiet affection you’d come to know all too well. "Get changed," he added with a soft tone.

You nodded, too tired to protest, but you smiled softly as you took the clothes from him.

Spencer's kindness and thoughtfulness had always been one of the things that drew you to him.

"Thanks," you murmured. 

As you moved to slip into the clothes, you heard the soft sound of Spencer moving around, followed by the familiar swish of the bathroom door opening and closing.

When you got done changing you walked towards the bathroom leaning against the doorframe. Spencer stood in front of the mirror, his back turned to you as he brushed his teeth.

His curls were slightly messy. You couldn't help but smile at how effortlessly cute he looked in such an ordinary moment.

When Spencer turned to you, his brow raised in that familiar, playful way, you could tell he was about to ask what had you staring at him.

"What?" you teased, your smile soft and genuine. "Can't I admire my boyfriend?" The words slipped out with ease, the affection in your voice undeniable. 

You could see the color rise up his neck, creeping toward his cheeks, and a small, bashful smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

It was always so easy to make him blush, and it never failed to make your heart flutter. 

With a quiet chuckle, you turned away from him, walking toward the bed. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. He was so wonderfully endearing, and moments like this made everything else fade into the background. 

After a few moments, you heard the quiet rustle of him finishing in the bathroom. When you glanced up at him, you saw him standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, watching you.

Now, he was the one staring at you, his gaze soft.

For a moment, the weight of the silence between you two seemed to stretch out.

"Do you think they know?" he asked suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes avoided yours as he spoke, staring at the floor as if there was something there he needed to focus on. 

"Who's 'they'?" you asked, your voice laced with confusion. You tilted your head, feeling a shift in the air. You pulled the blanket up, making space for him beside you. "And know what?" 

He hesitated before answering, his fingers twitching slightly as he shut the bathroom door behind him. "The team," he finally muttered, lowering his gaze even more. "About us." 

He sat beside you, but there was a certain distance in the way he sat—fidgeting, picking at the blanket between you two. You watched him carefully, your curiosity piqued.

You sat up, turning your body fully toward him, narrowing your eyes as you tried to figure out what he was feeling. "Spence," you said softly, trying to catch his gaze. "What are you worried about?" 

He sighed deeply, his eyes now locked on his hands, which had become absorbed in the folds of the blanket. “I just… I don’t know." His voice was shaky now, as if trying to force out a thought that wasn’t easy to say. "It’s not uncommon for people in our line of work to keep things like this secret. But... I mean, statistically speaking, workplace relationships tend to end up in complications, and... and with our jobs being so stressful, we have to maintain a certain level of professionalism and—" 

You watched him ramble, his words rushing out as if he couldn’t stop them, his mind running in a thousand directions at once.

You could see it—the way his brow furrowed, and his lips moved quickly, barely taking a breath between sentences.

His eyes remained fixed on the blanket, his thoughts clearly all over the place. 

You scooted a bit closer, your body naturally gravitating toward his as you reached out to gently place your hand on his, stopping him from fiddling with the blanket. His hands immediately stilled under yours, the restless motion ceasing.

He exhaled softly, his shoulders slumping as if he'd finally realized how much he'd been overthinking. "Sorry," he mumbled, his voice filled with a mix of apology and frustration. 

You shook your head, your thumb brushing across the back of his hand as you gave him a soft, comforting smile. "Don’t apologize," you said quietly, your voice warm and understanding. You could see the way his mind was still spinning. You brushed his hair out of his face, your fingers lingering on his cheek for more than just a second.

“Spence,” you called his name softly, practically asking him to meet your gaze.

His hazel eyes were filled with the familiar vulnerability you knew so well, and you couldn’t help but soften at the sight. 

“You know they’re not just our team, right?” you continued, your voice filled with care. “We practically spend our entire day with them. They’re like family.” You studied his face, trying to convey the depth of your feelings. "So what if they find out?" 

Spencer blinked, his eyes searching yours as if weighing your words. You watched him closely, waiting for him to process it.

You could feel the tension in him, the doubt still lingering.

You smiled softly, knowing you had to push this a little further, to make him see things from your perspective. “The worst thing that could happen would be Garcia and Derek annoying us all day,” you teased lightly, a playful note creeping into your voice. 

At that, Spencer let out a quiet chuckle, his lips curving up into a small, amused smile. You watched as the tension in his shoulders slowly eased. 

“I can already hear Garcia asking us a thousand questions,” he muttered, half-laughing at the image in his head. “Derek would be all over it, too—probably making terrible jokes about us.”

You grinned, teasing him lightly. “I can already hear Garcia asking if we’ve picked out the wedding colors yet. And Derek? He’ll probably be calling us ‘lovebirds’ for the next week.”

Spencer chuckled, his shoulders shaking slightly as he imagined the teasing they'd get from their teammates. “Yeah, and Morgan will act like he’s our unofficial wedding planner,” he said, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance. “He’d probably try to get us to elope in Vegas or something.”

You burst out laughing at the thought of Derek’s over-the-top antics. “Honestly, that sounds like something he’d suggest." You smiled playfully at him.

He looked down at you , his expression turning slightly serious.

His eyes warm and fond, but there was still a hint of uncertainty lingering in his gaze. “I just don’t want things to get weird, you know? Between us, or with the team.”

You softened, your heart going out to him. You reached up, gently cupping his cheek to get him to look at you, a reassuring smile on your lips. “Spencer, we’ve been through a lot together, and if anyone’s going to understand, it’s them. We’re a team, and they’ll support us—no matter what. I promise.”

 Without thinking, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against your lips.

Spencer blinked in surprise, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush, and he turned to you with a soft smile that made your heart flutter. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice sincere as he gazed at you with warmth in his eyes. 

You smiled back, reaching over to gently pat his hand. “Anytime,” you said.

“How about we sleep now?” you added, a slightly tired look in your eyes.

Spencer nodded without hesitation, giving you a small, relieved smile as he stood up to turn off the nightlight.

You scooted over, making space for him, and before long, he was lying beside you, pulling you gently into his chest. 

The warmth of his body surrounded you, and you rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

 "Good night," Spencer murmured softly, his voice barely more than a breath.

You smiled, your eyes fluttering shut as you snuggled closer, your fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. “Good night, Spence,” you whispered back, your voice soft and content. 

[megumismyhusband]

HELLOUU!! Hope you’re having a good day pls take rests and drink enough water, stay healthy~! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

I’ve been thinking about the blue lock boys with a extremely girly and feminine reader headcanon, LIEK a scenario where the s/o takes an ungodly amount of time to do make up or shop (bonus point if reader drags them to different stores in each mall and makes them carry the shopping bags) i think majority of the characters are rather boy ish (maybe besides chigiri) so I wonder how they’d deal with a polar opposite , this is kinda based off me irl — my bf used to complain about how long i take when i do make up but now he just shuts up and plays games or scroll on his social media to pass time. Thankyew in advance if you do write for this request!

ヽ(o＾▽＾o)ノ

AJDKJDHWKJEH THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE!! >_<

Rin

- Rin does not understand why it takes you 45 minutes to perfect eyeliner, but he doesn’t argue—just sits there with his arms crossed and his “I hate the world” face.

- When you ask him which shade of pink lipstick looks better, he mumbles something like, “They’re the same.” (Spoiler: They are not the same.)

- Acts like he loathes carrying your shopping bags (he LOVES holding them for you). He’ll just trail behind you with a mountain of bags, brooding like he wants to disappear.

- If someone so much as looks at you the wrong way while you’re trying on clothes, Rin glares at them until they regret their life choices.

- Lowkey finds it cute when you get excited over glittery stuff but will never admit it.

Sae

- Sae’s patience is… questionable. He’s the type to lean against a wall, scrolling on his phone while you shop, throwing in sarcastic comments like, “Haven’t you already bought three dresses that look like this?”

- He’ll carry your bags but insists on negotiating after the third store. “I’ll hold these if we don’t go to another store after this.” Spoiler: You drag him into four more.

- Will openly tease you for taking forever with your makeup. “Do you really need to contour your nose? It looks fine.”

- Secretly appreciates how put-together you always look. If you ever catch him staring, he’ll brush it off with, “I was just thinking about something else.”

- Occasionally buys you cute stuff when he’s traveling but pretends it’s no big deal. “I just saw it and thought it’d shut you up for a while.

Nagi

- Suffering incarnate. Nagi is absolutely overwhelmed by your energy. “Do we really have to go to another store? Can’t we just order this online?”

- He slouches on every available chair while you shop and 100% falls asleep if you take too long in the dressing room.

- Doesn’t mind carrying your bags, though, because it’s easier than arguing. “As long as you owe me for this later… Maybe snacks or a nap.”

- Will absentmindedly compliment you when you’re putting on makeup. “Oh, that sparkly thing looks cool. What’s it called? High…lighter?”

- Somehow still finds your bubbly, girly energy soothing in a weird way. It’s like your enthusiasm balances out his laziness.

Karasu

- Karasu thinks it’s hilarious. He lives to tease you while you’re dragging him around the mall. “Babe, you don’t need another sparkly pink phone case. Oh wait, you do? My bad.”

- Constantly flirts with you while you’re shopping. “That dress is cute, but it’d look better on my bedroom floor.”

- Will 100% help you pick out clothes and accessories. He’s surprisingly good at it, too. “This shade of blue matches your eyes—trust me, I’m a professional.”

- Carries your bags with a smug grin, saying things like, “Anything for my princess.”

- Genuinely loves how different you are from him. Your energy and sweetness keep him on his toes, and he’s obsessed with it.

[sterifels-blog]

warnings ⚠️

•nsfw! 🔞 please do not interact if you are not 18+ ❤️ you are not my responsibility.

creepypasta

REQUESTED: how they'd react if you ask them what their favorite (body) part of you is.

bloody painter

•he would say your hands. he's intrigued by your fingers, as odd as it may seem. not so much the looks of them; but instead the power they wield. "you have such delicate hands for someone so strong... makes me wonder what they could do if they weren't holding a brush." the implication is there— and, it's more of an invitation then a question. he knows what you're capable of- but he thinks he's being smooth about the fact he wants your hand wrapped around his cock.

•soft, but possessive touches: he'll hold your hand in his and trace the lines of your palm with his thumb, enjoying the way your skin feels against his rougher hand. he's not always filthy- infact, he washes his hands more that you're around. he knows you can't stand the feeling of blood smearing all over yours off of his.

•places gentle kisses on your knuckles. he'll press a kiss to your knuckles after you've done something for him, silently showing gratitude in his own way. alternatively; as he's bumping his hips to snap his pelvis tight against your own— more-so panting onto your fingers as he holds them to his parted lips. he's grunting at how good you feel, his brows tight-- and knitted together while placing soft kisses to your fingertips. bro loves you.

•admiring the art of your hands: if you paint (hopefully, with normal supplies), he'll watch you carefully, entranced by the way your fingers move across the canvas. "i like how you create... i like how you touch things."

•okay brother. calm down.

•handcuff scenario: if he's feeling possessive, he might tie your hands just to keep you close, though it's always with a Iight touch, as if savoring the moment. it's that, or he's got you in his lap- your back pressed to his chest as one of his hands keeps your wrists pulled together, and the other is brushing hair out of the way so he can kiss your neck.

•earning affection: "i know these hands could do so much more, if i let you." a quiet invitation to explore.

clockwork

•she'd say your eyes. clockwork has a dark fascination with them, and she isnt shy about making that clear: "your eyes... they've seen more than i can imagine, and yet they still hold something innocent about them." she has no issue with tainting that innocence- although she chooses to cherish it for herself, opting to keep your mind safe and away from others. your eyes only on her.

•intense gaze: she'll lock her eyes on yours, not breaking contact, as if studying you. it's like she's searching for something deep within, and it makes you feel exposed, yet strangely desired. she'll be kissing from your sternum down to your pelvis, her nails dragging along your bare sides as she relishes in the feeling of your fluttering skin against her lips.

•her lip gloss paints your stomach in a shimmery raspberry hue as she kisses your skin, her thumbs digging into your hips as they massage in slow circles.

•she's huge on teasing: "i could lose myself in them, but you'd never let me. you'd just pull away, wouldn't you?" she won't give you much of an option to pull away. she'll have you on your knees in front of her, her hand cupped under your chin as she admires the tremble of excitement that rushes down your spine.

•gentle, longing touches. she gently cups your face, forcing you to keep eye contact "i could make you see things- things you don't want to. but... you trust me, don't you?"

•when you inevitably agree with her— saying that you do trust her, her hands are parting your thighs, shamelessly sighing as her tongue traces lazy drags against your clit and labia. (she's definitely the type to write her name with her tongue, over and over until you're whining for her to do something other than tease. you're not talking at all after that)

•behind-the-scenes power: "if you look away, i'Il only make it worse. keep looking... you're mine, aren't you?"

eyeless jack

•thoughtful to say your throat. jack has an intense interest with your neck/throat. he can't stop staring at your throat, where he knows your pulse beats, so close to the surface- so easy to cut off if he so much as squeezed you hard enough. if he so much as twisted your head quick enough to cause dissection. not that he ever would- no, no. such horrific things are only reserved for his victims- but his medical knowledge often gets the better of him when intimate with your body.

•gentle but dangerous touch. he'll graze his fingers lightly along the curve of your throat, his thumb brushing the side of your neck as though testing your response. he'll hum— his nail digging softly into the prominent vein on the side of your neck, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against it as though smelling the metallic flow from the outer-shell of your skin. he doesn’t say anything, but the way his hand squeezes is word enough. jack loves you, he's made it clear over and over again- but often, he still finds it necessary to remind you that you both are different. un-alike.

•dangerous affection: "i know the veins here so well... it's almost like could just.." he might trail his fingers over your throat, his mind going to darker places as he tightens the grip he has on you to just beneath your chin, tilting your head back with a little groan into your ear. he brushes your baby hairs away from the base of your neck, leaning in to place a kiss against the base of your skull, panting with hearty breaths whilst his hips rut slow, sloppy grinds against the cheeks of your ass.

•alternatively, he’s got your legs kicked apart, his own feet placed between yours as to ensure that you don't try and squeeze them shut. pinned to him, your back against his chest— jack doesn't let you loose as his fingers swirled wide circles around your clit. his teeth graze at your ear, murmuring quietly about how easy you were for him. predictable. and you were.

•teasing whispers: he'll lean close to your ear and murmur, "your pulse is fast... what's got you worked up? it's just me.."

•holds your throat while he's fucking into you from behind.

hoodie

•your ass. zero shame, zero hesitation: hoodie doesn't even try to hide it, "you've got the best ass i've ever seen. why wouldn't i look? you should be flattered."

•he's hands-on at all times. whenever you walk past him, his hand is right there. sometimes, he gives it a playful squeeze, other times a sharp smack that makes you jump. "what? you're the one who walked by me like that."

•you, in fact, didn't even walk by. he's the one who walked by you. too many times, will you give him silence in return for his tomassery– and each time, he does the same thing. he'll come up behind you, apologetically (🤥) sliding his hands down your waist to cup your ass as he presses a kiss to the back of your neck. "you know i'm just teasing.."

•favorite pose? you straddling his lap. he loves when you sit on him, especially facing away so he can rest his hands on your hips— or further down. "you're making it really hard to focus, you know. not that i'm complaining.."

•and he isn't complaining, especially when he’s able to bend you over the counter later that night, groaning and grunting as he 'thanks' you for the meal you'd cooked for him after a long mission assigned by the operator. he's tired, sure; but he always has some extra stamina stored away for times like this. seeing your ass bounce on his hips as his dick bullies against your g-spot is worth every bit of energy he has left.

•constant touching: if you're lying on your stomach, he's lying next to you, his hand lazily draped over your lower back and sliding lower.

•pulling you closer: if you're standing in front of him, he'll wrap an arm around your waist and pull you back against him, hands wandering. "c'mere. you're too far away. yeah, that's better."

jason the toymaker

•your hands

•craftsman’s admiration: “your hands... so delicate, yet so full of life. they could create so much beauty... if i allowed you.” his voice carries both fascination and a subtle possessiveness, enjoying how wrapped around his fingers you were. the innuendo is there, integrated in his words. why would you need to touch yourself when he was there to do all you wished for you?

•very gentle with his touches. he loves to take your hands in his, running his fingers over the smooth skin, almost as if memorizing every line and curve. the type of guy to intertwine your fingers with his own as he keeps your wrists pinned to the bed— huffing against your neck with steady, deep thrusts. loves kissing behind your ear, grumbling about how good you take him- make him feel.

•kisses to your palms. jason has a habit of turning your hand over and pressing slow, deliberate kisses to your palm. “such beautiful hands… wasted on anything but me.” definitely prompts you into giving him a hand job, obsessive over the way your fingers feel curled around him. he thoroughly can't get enough of you, and arm wrapped lazily around your waist as he sits you in his lap for a slow makeout.

•mild.. obsession: he’ll watch you when you’re doing anything with your hands—writing, sketching, even cooking. “it’s mesmerizing, really. i could watch you all day.”

•into playful (but freaky ass) control. jason likes to guide your hands when you’re working on something, his larger hands enveloping yours. “here, let me show you how to do it properly. not that you’re bad at it… i'm just better.” this applies to the bedroom, where he's guiding your hand; curling your fingers only when he allows you to.

•possessive comments: “these hands belong to me, no? no one else gets to feel them, hold them, or be touched by them.”

jeff the killer

•dangerous attraction to your thighs: "your thighs... they look so soft. i bet they'd feel even better wrapped around me." and they do— whether they are clung at the sides of his head, or straddling his hips as he helps you ride him after a particularly high stress day. he loves them more than anything else in the world.

•gentle possessiveness.. he'll casually run his hands over your thighs, his fingers lingering just a little too long as if marking territory. does it especially when you are all sitting in a group. if given the opportunity, he'll have you tucked between him and the arm of the couch, your legs slung over his own so his hand can rub up and down yours.

•plenty of flirtatious teasing: "how tight do you think those legs could squeeze, huh? show me, and i'II make it worth your while."

•when you go about showing him- he makes it a point to keep you at his disposal until you're too satisfied to complain about anything. his tongue is useful for talking— but it is just as skillful when it's dipped between your thighs, running between your folds until you're squeezing his head so tight, he was sure his skull would crack.

•loves giving you kisses to the inner thigh. on a whim, he might press a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, just to feel the warmth of your skin. after a particularly strenuous night of.. events, it's a subtle gesture of appreciation

•"i can't help it. your thighs are just... perfect. i think i could spend all day here, don't you?"

•mock care: if he's feeling particularly mischievous, he'll gently squeeze them and say, "relax. i'Il be gentle. for now."

jane the killer

•playfully seductive: "these hips of yours.. i could write a book about how perfect they are." she smirks as her hands glide along them, leaving goosebumps in her wake. by far, they are the most favorable thing on your body in her eyes- apart from the obvious sentiment of your breasts. she thinks the proportions of them match you perfectly.

•possessive hold. jane has a habit of gripping your hips firmly, puling you closer until there's no space between you- mainly around the others of the household. there is no denying that you're hers- but it is still in her nature to be competitive over that fact, especially with her other-sex counterpart being present. "you feel so good against me. don't think i'Il let go anytime soon."

•slow in admiration. her fingers trace the curve of your hips, almost reverently. "every inch of you is stunning, but this.. this drives me insane." you're hovered over her- sweat dripping down your spine and dampening the roots of your hair as her hands guide you in a rocking motion. they are clasped tightly to your hips, nails, digging into your flesh as she encourages you to tuck in your core. she doesn't mind doing the messy work of bouncing you on her strap, so long as numbs you into that blissful state.

•dually stimulates your clit just to see them buck.

•sultry whispers while standing behind you. she'll lean in, lips brushing against your ear as her sleek nails tickled your hips with repetitive strokes. "these hips were made for my hands, don’t you think? hm?"

•when things heat up, her focus always finds its way to your hips, her kisses trailing along the curves as her grip tightens. "you have no idea what you do to me." jane's eyes linger on your hips like they're the most captivating thing in the world.

kagekao

•your mouth and messy kisses. kagekao loves kissing you- rough, messy, and without warning. he thrives on the way he can leave you breathless and completely flustered. it comes of good use when you two are arguing. you'd been rambling about something- not that he was listening; but he captured the gist of you bitching about how he was leaving the house a mess. guilty— of course he was; but he wasn't going to acknowledge it. "can't talk now, can you?"

•shutting you up: secondary to a kiss, if you're rambling or talking back, he'll cut you off with a hand against your mouth; putting you into momentary silence. it is only when his hand moves to tug at the buckle of his belt do you understand where he is truly going with it. your mouth, around him- is as good as it is while talking. as skillful as your insults- just more quiet apart from the occasional gag to fuel his ego.

•playfully dominant. he's a master of teasing you into silence, brushing his thumb over your lips and smirking. "these lips of yours are dangerous... but i like the way they feel under mine." he's cheesy because he knows it gets you going. you'll cuss him out, commencing a back-and-forth between the two of you. and as much as he enjoys shutting you up— it is, unfortunately, your 'arguments' that get him swollen and tight in his slacks.

•messy control: if you're mid-argument, he'll pin you against a wall and kiss you hard enough to stop the words from coming. "i don't care what you were going to say." he's a bit of an asshole— and when it comes to an actual confliction, you're often pushing him away as to voice your opinion.

•obsession with your voice: he's addicted to the way your lips move when you talk (+ the sound of it), and he often stares shamelessly. "keep talking- let me watch those pretty lips of yours."

•if it's been a while since he's last seen you; and you have the chance to speak to him over the phone, he's 100% not opposed to rubbing one out with you on the line. he'll go silent, listening to you ramble on about something that seems insignificant compared to the raging throb of his erection. mindlessly hums in agreement to something he shouldn't have— and gets startled when you begin scolding him over the phone.

laughing jack

•jack has a shameless fixation on your legs, especially if you're blessed with some extra height. "your legs just go on forever, don't they? makes me want to see how far they can wrap around me." his words are said with a wicked grin, no shame in his tone. if you're smaller, no worries about it— he's still intrigued about how many positions he can wrangle you into, especially with your smaller size being an accommodation.

•loves, loves, loves having you up against the wall. it's not the most practical position- but he has the strength to pull it off. at no point in time will your feet be touching the ground. your legs are slung over his hips, and mercilessly, jack is giving you no time between breaths as he fucks in and out of you. he'd been worked up over a dress you'd worn out with jane; the gap of time from which you returned— to then being railed furiously almost nonexistent.

•the stupid cunt is constant teasing: he'll comment on how your legs look in any outfit especially if they're bare. "oh, you're just showing them off today, aren't you? that's just cruel." he especially loves seeing you in skirts or short dresses. a tight pair of pants will still do justice- outlining your figure, but seeing your skin is an entirely different experience for him.

•obsessive attention. runs his hands along your thighs and calves, almost like he's worshiping them, while making playful, almost mocking comments. "so soft.. are you sure you're strong enough to be here?" he knows you are, he has no sincere doubts that you've earned your place amongst the bunch; but it intrigues him how someone as hard working as yourself could have any aspect of a gentle physic leftover.

•payful biting: he'll nip at your legs from your calvee to your thighs, just to watch you squirm. "what? can't handle a little attention?"

•restless fascination: loves having his head in your lap, running his hands up and down your legs, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "how am i supposed to behave with these perfect legs right in front of me?"

•a good smack to the head will do it.

masky

•masky has an obvious fixation on your breasts. he won't even try to hide it. when you're in close quarters, his eyes are always drawn to your chest, and he'll casually glance at them before meeting your eyes, smirking. "could you be any less distracting?"

•shameless touching: he's the type to casually rest his hand on your chest when in private, grinning like it's the most natural thing in the world. if you're not paying attention, he'll give them a slight squeeze and say, "couldn't resist, sorry." which, is a lie. he's fully capable of resisting- but with you, he doesn't care much to.

•throughly enjoys having you ride him. if not only to see the way your face twists up in pleasure; then, to see the way your breasts bounce with each desperate thrust you chase after.

•loves seeing you in workout clothes— especially something like a workout bra that cups your breasts exceptionally. he'll come up behind you, hands wandering from your sides, and against your ribs to your breasts, his fingers fondling with the under-band of your bra appreciatively. places soft kisses on the back of your neck, humming in approval as he relishes in the sight of his palms engulfing your chest in the gym mirror.

•unapologetic flirting: "look real fucking good in that top. deserve some attention, don't you think?" he'll lean in close, just to make it clear that he's very aware of what he's doing- not that you had any doubts.

•although secondary pleasure wasn't normally accommodated on his schedule (nor does he have a high drive for it)– when you gave him a tit job for the first time; he swore he was knocking on heavens door. he could hardly keep himself from giving in too early- grunting and huffing as he dragged on his cigarette, prolonging his climax for as long as he could. cusses the entire time, groaning about how good you were.

•proximity: when he sleeps, he'll have his face tucked against your collarbone, his arms wrapped around you as his nose divets to your sternum.

slenderman

•control obsession: he’s drawn to your wrists, knowing just how delicate they are and how easily he can take control. he loves— and definitely gets off on the feeling of holding them tightly, guiding you however he sees fit. “your wrists are so fragile... better reason for you to listen"

•possessive in his grip. slenderman will sometimes just stand behind you, his long fingers brushing your wrists in a possessive, almost ritualistic manner, ensuring you feel his presence without him saying a word. he might even trace your veins as if marking them as his own— otherwise, silently reminding you of your merciless place beneath him.

•soft yet firm restraint. if you’re not paying attention, he’ll slip his tendril around your wrists with a cold, firm grip, keeping you in place. his touch is both controlling and almost comforting, as if trying to stake a claim over you that is inevitable. keeps you from moving too much, because it “makes it easier to work with you.”

•tying you up: there’s something about restraining you with ropes or simple threads that bores him. he's more into using his tentacles— wrapping them around your wrists slowly, ensuring it’s just tight enough to restrict movement. it’s a methodical and precise act. “you’ll stay still. you can handle this, can you not?"

•borderline sadistic during intercourse with you. overstimulation is a guarantee— his tentacles cuffing your wrists together as you squirm on the silk of his bedding. relentless. your breaths heave in desperation as his thumb circled your clit for what felt like hellish hours on end, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes that he brushes away with little care- only after they'd began to trail down your cheeks.

•fingers that linger: when he’s guiding you through a task, his fingers press against the soft skin of your wrist, sending shivers up your spine. it’s a constant reminder of his dominance and the way he can bend you to his will with little effort. sits you between his legs and has you ride his fingers, kissing the flat surface of your inner wrist.

•silent manipulation: whether you’re walking or sitting, his hands will often find their way to your wrists. the way his fingers curl around them feels almost hypnotic, leaving you unsure if it’s affection or an underlying threat.

ticci toby

•possessive grip: toby's hands will find their way to your chest, casually gripping them as if it's the most casual thing in the world. he's not gentle, but not rough either— just firm enough to feel like he's marking his territory. "i like having you close. ganz in der nähe" the words may seem innocent enough, but they are the furthest thing from it.

•soft, but intense. if you're in his arms, he'll keep you pressed against him, his hands roaming under your clothes to gently feel and play with you. his breaths hitch as he does, clearly enjoying the closeness more than anything. not being able to feel much- it's intriguing for him to see how you react to something he assumed would feel so insignificant.

•when he figured out you enjoy it- quite a bit, he'll find himself stroking your ribs more often, tracing over your collarbone.

•huffs of approval: when he feels the soft weight of your breasts in his hands, you'll hear him let out a pleased sigh, followed by a low chuckle. "you can't help making these noises when i touch you, hm?" he enjoys them, thoroughly. in fact, it's something he favors, doing whatever he can to pry the sweet sounds from your lips.

•missionary— classical. he's got your back pinned to the bed, one arm wrapped around your spine as he lay a series of open-mouthed kisses to your throat, trailing down to find one of the pebbled nipples of your breasts. the sound of your breathy moan is almost enough to make him brick up again, a low groan leaving his throat as his lips engulfed your tit with gluttony. he could worship you like this for hours- but not without his own share of enjoyment.

•light teasing: if you react to him touching you, even just a little, his grin widens. "i know you like it. you don't need to hide it." he'll lean in close, letting his breath ghost over your neck. there's nothing he enjoys more than getting a reaction out of you— and it severely agitates him when you silence yourself.

•insecure softness: as unhinged as he may seem, he can get a little soft about it, too. "i just... i need you close, okay? don't push me away." he's not one to beg, but there's something desperate in his voice when he holds you like this. loves having you against his chest, feeling your bare skin pressed against his own.

[eclipseberrycake]

Top Shelf (Support! Reader x Sprout)

AN: Oooh mr. Seedly. I love making you all fall in love with my version of Sprout >:) Then requesting more Sprout >:) Then I get to write more Sprout >:)

This is a request!

☁ Now, now, now. A support toon.

☁ Hear me out. An ability like Gigi, but instead of getting the objects yourself, you give a random object to a toon of your choice.

☁ Of course, you give this to Sprout, all the time. Because it's funny.

☁ Imagine he's hiding from a twisted behind a box and is suddenly pelted by gumballs falling from the air above him, your giggles falling away.

☁ Just as he goes to yell at you, the twisted spots him and he's left running to lose them, glaring at you as you snicker from your own hiding place.

☁ Sprout is an overprotective guy, we've established well enough, and this ability kind of pisses him off.

☁ Why is he taking something, especially when luck strikes and it's something like a band or a med-kit, when it could be going to you?

☁ A part of him knows that this is your way of showing affection however. You do what you can to protect him while he's always giving you heals whenever needed. It's a give and take really.

☁ I haven't really touched on it directly in the MBC works, but Sprout is a touchy guy. He loves just touching for no reason. But he's a jerk when he does it/ affectionate

☁ He's leaning on you like you're a table, messing with your head, using his hands to steer your shoulders wherever he wants, holding you like one would hold a cat, crouching down to talk face-to-face with you even if the height difference isn't that great.

☁ He even does that thing where he holds your forehead with one hand while the other holds something out of your reach.

☁ Like I'm sorry but I love the Lovers who are actually each others biggest haters. It's so funny to me.

☁ Don't get me wrong, if you're with Sprout, you're probably returning it tenfold.

☁ You call him over for tapes only to take them the second he's close enough to do so (Oooh ginger mains when I CATCH YOU GINGER MAINS-), running off giggling even if he's quick enough to catch you. You're making sure you're using your ability when he's in the worst situation, making him stumble to catch the bottle of pop as Twisted Teagan chases him down.

☁ It's all in good fun, trust.

☁ You guys probably get together because he's talking to Cosmo about his feelings an Cosmo goes "You want me to set you up with them?" And like a FOOL, he agrees. So, in the elevator where it's isolated with no escape route, Cosmo SCREAMS across the elevator. "HEY Y/N SPROUT LIKES YOU!"

☁ He would throttle the cake roll yet.

☁ He nearly did when you turned at the sound of your name from your conversation with Glisten, who hides his laugh behind his hand. You're cheeks immediately flush as your brain computes the knowledge given to you and Sprout wants to crawl into a hole and die.

☁ And then you laugh. It's slow little giggles and then hearty laughter that makes his stomach flip hearing it. You shake your head before beaming. "I would hope so, as far as I'm aware, we've been dating for months."

☁ Which was news to him. He gapes as Cosmo cackles, patting Sprout's back before running into the newly opened room. The only two left in the elevator are him and you. You watch the others leave, before stepping just enough the elevator won't kick you out, watching Sprout as he steps beside you.

☁ He avoids your eyes as he scratches the back of his neck, his own seeded cheeks turning a more ruby red. You grin at him, gently taking his hand. "What's wrong, Seedly?"

☁ All signs of the bashful, shy Sprout are immediately dashed as he deadpans at you, raising a brow ridge at the use of his name. You smirk up at him again, nudging him with a shoulder.

☁ "Did you really think we were dating?" He suddenly asks and your face falls. It makes his own gut twist as he goes to try and rectify it, but you're already talking, trying to take your hand back. "I'm so sorry, did I read the signs all wrong? I thought when you mentioned feeling closed to me a couple weeks ago-"

☁ He had done that. He mentioned being closest with you weeks ago, and was going confess then, but wussed out. To know now, that you took it that way anyway? His hands tighten around yours. "I was!" He blurts. "I was going to, admittedly." He frowns at this even as you stop trying to pull away. "I chickened out, but I do like you. A lot. I did then and I do now."

☁ You stare at him before letting out a sigh of relief, shaking your head with a grin. "Oh, Mr. Seedly-"

☁ "Well if you're calling me that-" Sprout is the one to try and pull away this time, making you giggle as you try and grab him again, saying all sorts of denials and apologies through your laughter.

☁ He lets you grab his cheeks, staring into the pools of your eyes with a dopey grin on his face. Sure Cosmo was being chased by a twisted right now, but he'd be fine. He deserved it. At least for a little.

☁ "Can I kiss you?" You ask suddenly, and his cheeks burn a bright red, only able to mindlessly nod his head. You reach up and press a kiss to his lips, only a quick peck, but he swears fireworks go off somewhere.

☁ You grin at him once more and there's suddenly something much heavier and cylindrical in his hands. You're waving as you run off, and he's left staring between his hand, which now holds a can of pop, and you're retreating form before laughing at himself and what's he's gotten himself into before turning to save Cosmo.

☁ Cosmo gives him all sorts of scoldings in the elevator after the fact, but Sprout can't even find it in himself to care, leaning his chin on your head even as you swat at him.

☁ He does love your ability, let me add, he just wishes sometimes you'd use it in a better time. There are times however when it's perfect.

☁ He doesn't distract often, not if he can help it, but when he does and he feels himself running on empty, only for a bottle of pop to appear? He's forever thankful. Or when he's been too busy healing everyone else, he doesn't realize he himself has been hit until he's being smoked with a bandage box.

☁ In return, he throws cupcakes at you.

☁ All in the names of healing.

☁ He's such a turd sometimes I swear.

[zablife]

Hello darling! For your requests I found this prompt, would you give it a try? 🔥 😇

"Come on, don't just undress me with your eyes." - For Tommy

Thanks for the lovely inspo, Mar! I do love this GIF 😍

Tommy x female reader

Undress Me

"You can't be serious," you scoffed with an indignant toss of your head.

Tommy only stared into his glass, finishing off the last of his whiskey as he waited for the footsteps in the hall to fade into the distance.

"We discussed this," he mumbled, dispassionately rising to refill his glass.

"You never mentioned Finn," you reminded him.

As he passed before you, you grabbed onto his shirt sleeve. "I can't marry him," you insisted.

Tommy turned slowly, eyes falling to where your fingers dug into his forearm with disappointment. "Why not?" he asked in genuine confusion.

Because you wanted to marry me once, you thought before turning your bitterness to insults. "He's a fucking child you can't trust with a simple task!"

He rolled his eyes before producing a check from his pocket. Only then did he meet your insistent gaze. "Not even for this?" he asked, the steep arch of his brow demanding an answer. "Said you wanted security and a good life for your family, didn't ya?"

With the haunting memory of your original plea for help echoing in your ears, you eyed the check warily. "If he's the brother you've chosen for me, I want more," you replied, chin held high with what little pride you had left.

"Overplay your hand and see where it gets you," he warned with a sharp tug of his arm.

You staggered forward, feeling the acute loss of him. When had this all turned sour? you wondered.

He turned his back to you as he reached for the crystal decanter and you filled your lungs with a courageous breath. You'd need strength to keep going, but you were accustomed to it. Unlacing the front of your gown in anticipation, you waited for him to face you.

He did a poor job of concealing the hunger in his eyes, especially when his pupils dilated in such a way. "Come on, don't just undress me with your eyes," you beckoned in your sweetest voice.

Raising an accusing finger toward you he warned, "I know what this is."

"What?" you shrugged with practiced nonchalance.

"You're young and full of promise, don't waste it on me, love," he said with sadness tingeing his voice.

"So that's why you chose Finn for me?" you asked, wanting to understand his reasoning.

Tommy nodded slowly. "Has his whole life before him. Mine faded long ago."

"That's not true," you swore to him, taking a few tentative steps in his direction. "Come back to me, Tom," you gently urged, fingers tracing his rugged jawline.

He closed his eyes to your touch and you knew he could still be yours. Leaning in to swipe your full lips against his, you begged him to take you then and there. And he did, giving into his desire fully the moment his self control snapped.

You'd never felt so possessed by him, hands gripping you tightly to him as though you were his last breath. His mouth sucking a bruise into the delicate flesh of your neck to mark you for all to see. There was a blind devotion to his actions that didn't make you feel guilty for tugging him closer when he came inside you.

If you'd timed it correctly, you'd be with child before the cursed wedding day. Tommy wouldn't dare deny you then, taking you for his bride instead. You sighed contentedly at the prospect as his heart hammered against yours.

--------------

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[spiderfunkz]

HYUN-JU x CHUBBY!READER

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

author's note: i hope i did this request justice!! i have a few more drafts to upload😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 likes and reblogs help boost my writing and are very appreciated.

▸ hyun-ju isn't shy nor afraid to show you off to her friends, to let them see what a beautiful person you truly are. inside and out. she loves seeing you become more comfortable and confident, that's her girl. and plus, she loves it when you get flustered sometimes. it's cute.

▸ she's a great listener, as said before. she's empathetic and emotionally intelligent. she's quick to reassure you when you feel down. she's incredibly good with her words, they always make you feel more relaxed and calm. she'll rub your back and play with your hair as you talk.

▸ hyun-ju believes that an 'ideal body' is a body you're comfortable in. she would never cross your boundaries. she always supports your goals and accomplishments, as small as they can be, she's still proud. your celebrations are hers too. she doesn't care about societal standards, as long as you're happy and healthy, she'll love you no matter what.

▸ she compliments you all the time! she tells you how perfect your curves are, how she loves every single part of you. hyun-ju states that beauty and love come in all shapes and sizes.

▸ when you're feeling self conscious or insecure, hyun-ju knows how to softly handle it. she isn't unknown to the struggles of being uncomfortable or upset with your own body. she's experienced it herself. you two can have deep talks about it without any judgement, she's here for you, and you're here for her.

▸ she's very affectionate. she loves cuddling with you, cupping your cheeks, holding and caressing your thigh while you're in the passenger seat. she always makes sure you feel loved and valued.

▸ hyun-ju is a great cook. i just know it. she gives you the first bite in every meal and occasionally asks for feedback. she makes sure you're well fed and eat delicious meals all day! besides, you two make a great pair in the kitchen, always laughing, cracking jokes and eggs.

▸ loves it when you dress up. will shower you with flattering remarks and praise. "you look so beautiful. so gorgeous. i'm so lucky to be with the most beautiful angel ever. tell me, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" and obviously, she'll throw in a cheesy pick up line to get a giggle out of you.

▸ or you know, when you leave her completely speechless, she just utters "i could marry you right now."

▸ hyun-ju is the type of girlfriend to bring you flowers every tuesday. with a note to keep you motivated throughout the next week. you've received so many, you collect all the notes and keep it in a small box. when hyun-ju's not at home, you like to read it.

▸ she's always down for any activity you want to do. long walks, short walks, a nice car ride around the city, and even a trip to the gym.

▸ hyun-ju goes to the gym often, i mean, she's quite buff. she loves to coach you and help you adapt to the surroundings. she always helps you when you're struggling with an equipment or when you need to fix your form.

▸ self-love and self-care is very important to her. she loves days where you just stay at home, do skin care together, baths, and put on the comfiest of clothes. preferably, she'll borrow your sweaters as it provides the most warmth, comfort, and your scent is just addicting.

▸ she isn't afraid to stand up for you. she can fight and she knows it. though, she'll only fight when necessary. her words are strong too, her tone is tough and stern. she's very protective of you.

▸ she knows how to make you feel safe. after all, you're her safe space. she can and will take care of you, making sure your wants or needs are fulfilled. she can ask you about it, but trust, hyun-ju always knows what you want or need. she calls it 'girlfriend intuition'

▸ i know i've repeated countless times that hyun-ju's love language is acts of service, but you know what else is? words of affirmation and quality time. these play such a part in your relationship and you couldn't be anymore grateful to have hyun-ju.

▸ you're just so perfect in her eyes. hyun-ju is just so ridiculously in love with you.

[saetiate]

Hi Cora !

I'm new here, >\\\\\\<, and I couldn't resist asking if it's possible to request from your Valentine's Event, Fem!Reader x Sylus + The Emperor ? If it's okay ?

Thank you so much.

And good luck for all your stories ! (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

sylus x f!reader (can be read as gender neutral), power play, cw choking, very suggestive, sylus calls you angel wc: 0.6k words ❥ valentines event (requests still open!), co-written with @venustrvck a/n: hallo kat!!! thank you so much for participating!! i presume the creative freedom was given on purpose so we went with power play and made it suggestive :>

Sylus so rarely exerts any kind of power over you. He lets you run as far as you want, only hoping that you will eventually return to him. He gives you as much space as you need, regardless of how much he longs to draw you back in.

Except you want him to.

"You can be selfish, you know." You tell him one night, one of your knees nudging into the space between his legs as he lazes into the sofa. "You can take from me, if you want."

"Careful there, angel." His hand runs up the side of your thigh, a teasing warmth through your clothes, ruby eyes glinting. "That's a dangerous offer."

Your hands cup his face, gentle fingers ghosting over the high of his cheekbone. He lets you, always. Lets you touch him as you please, without restraint, without any move to protect himself.

"I trust you." You meet his eyes as you say it, the impact of it not lost to him from the way his eyes widen just slightly. You take his hands in yours, and put them against your neck. He can feel your pulse thrum, your life force in his hands.

There's a switch, then. Because all you know is the way the world spins, a soft oof leaving your lungs as your back hits the sofa.

He doesn't use his hands; lets his Evol hold you down. Instead, he leans an arm against the armrest, looming over you like a predator.

The shiver that runs through you doesn't escape his notice.

"What part of be careful did you not understand?" He breathes heavy as he touches you, exhales with a shudder like it affects him more than it affects you. His hand trails down your body, gripping your waist, pulling down the band of your pants just slightly, revealing a sliver of skin that entices him much more than it should.

You can't move your hands, with the way they're held down by his Evol over your head. So you wrap your legs around his waist instead.

"Take what you want." The bottom of your heel drags up along his spine. "Make me yours. Don't you want to?"

"What I want." He swallows, pressing his hips against yours so you can feel how hard he is. "Is what you want."

"That's not all, is it?" It falls from your lips as a whisper, draws him in like a siren does to a sailor. "You think I can't tell?"

"If you wanted it rough, you could just ask."

"I want you." You tilt your head up towards him as far as you can with the position you're in. "I want you to let go."

There's a sharp intake of breath, released through gritted teeth, almost as if he's in pain. He drops his forehead to yours.

"You drive me crazy." It's said like a confession, like something meant for a wooden booth.

"Show me, then."

He starts tentatively, wrapping a hand around your neck, playing with the constriction until you gasp. His pupils dilate.

"You can be much more dangerous than me."

Against all things, you smirk. "I think you're just losing your touch."

He mirrors your look, then, his lips smash into yours, more teeth and tongue than the gentle kisses he usually gives you, he smiles into it with a kind of pride.

"Am I? Oh, angel," his hands move with surety now, up either side of your thighs, pulling your pants down to wash his gaze over the expanse of exposed skin. "You're about to find out how untrue that really is."

[jjkamochoso]

hiii

idk if u take reqs rn or not feel free to ignore this

so i was thinking abt jjk guys and how they would react if u couldn't have a baby... like you want to but can't :(

i know this is a heavy subject and super angsty so i understand if u don't wanna do it

have a great day <333

Hello☺️ thank you so much for sending in this request! I’m always up for writing super angsty/sensitive topics so thank you for trusting me with this one, I hope I did it justice! I wrote this with a cis female reader in mind and only did the older characters if that’s alright, I didn’t feel comfortable writing this for any of the under 18 students. Also, if anyone is struggling with this irl, just know my heart is with you and you’re no less of a person just because you struggle with fertility issues❤️ sending all of you lots of love!🫶❤️

JJK Men Reacting to You Unable to Have a Baby

Angst, Fluff

JJK Men x f!reader

Warnings: sensitive topic at hand! Fertility issues and mentions of doctor’s appointments (nothing graphic); slight cussing in Gojo’s

Noritoshi:

You quickly entered your residence, shutting the front door as fast as you could. You didn’t want to be noticed by anyone right now, especially not a member of the Kamo clan, which was difficult seeing as you lived with your husband Noritoshi at his family’s expansive compound. Little did you know, the Kamo you dreaded to see the most right now was already waiting for you.

“Welcome back. How was your appointment?” asked Noritoshi, pouring two cups of tea. You gulped, trying to keep your tears at bay.

“The doctor said I’m unable to have a baby,” you said in a hushed tone, the news feeling all too real now that you said it out loud. Noritoshi was by your side immediately, tea cups abandoned on the countertop.

“There’s no chance ever?” he asked in a gentle tone.

“Never.” The dam inside you broke, tears overflowing. “Oh Noritoshi, what are we going to do? I can’t give you a baby of our own! We wanted this so bad,” you sobbed. Noritoshi pulled you into his chest, holding you close as you fell apart.

“What are we going to tell your family?” you continued. “We can’t have an heir; I’m going to get you disowned. We’ll have no house, no money, no child-”

“Enough of that,” he interrupted firmly but lovingly, his eyes finding yours as he opted to hold your shaking hands. “My clan will do no such thing. And even if they did, as long as I have you, I’d still be the richest man in the world.”

“But I can’t have a baby,” you sniffled. “We can’t have a baby.”

“I know it’s what we hoped for and I can’t imagine the burden you must be feeling right now,” he said, wiping your tears with his thumb, “but none of this is your fault. You might not be able to carry a child but that doesn’t mean we can’t raise one. We can always explore options like adoption in the future if that’s something you’d like. For now, though, let us grieve this loss so when we’re ready, we can step into the future with renewed hope and optimism.”

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the tissue he provided you along with the lingering kiss pressed to your forehead. It wasn’t going to be an easy journey ahead of you, but with the level headed, caring Noritoshi by your side, you knew you would be just fine.

Todo:

Leaving your doctor’s appointment, you felt numb. It was like your mind refused to process what the doctor had told you: you were unable to have a baby. You didn’t know how to tell Aoi, your husband. You two had dreamt of having kids for a long time and you didn’t want to break his heart with this horrible revelation.

As if he had heard your thoughts, you felt your phone vibrate and saw it was him calling. You sighed, knowing it was probably better to rip off the proverbial bandaid.

“Hey, beautiful. How was everything at your appointment?” he asked.

“Truthfully? Not good.” You bit your lip to stop from crying.

“What happened? Are you alright?”

“No, I’m not alright,” you confessed, tears already starting to fall down your cheeks, “I can’t get pregnant, Aoi. I can’t have a baby.”

At that point, you were practically sobbing in the city street.

“I’m coming to pick you up, honey, don’t worry. Are you still at the hospital?”

“No, Aoi, I’m fine-” you protested through your cries, but he wasn’t having it.

“I won’t let you go through this alone. Please, let me be there for you right now.”

You heard his voice tremble the slightest bit through the phone’s receiver and you realized he needed you as much as you needed him right now.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“I’m on my way. Don’t hang up, I want to hear your gorgeous voice until I can see your gorgeous face.”

That got you to crack a smile for the first time all day.

When Aoi finally showed up, he wrapped you into a tight hug, not daring to let go or caring who sees.

“Whatever the challenge, we’re up against it as a team. I’ll always be by your side, no matter what life throws at us,” he told you, giving your lips a soft kiss before taking you in his arms once more. “We can talk about this more when we get home but right now I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Ino:

You were grateful that Ino wanted to come with you to your doctor’s appointment since you hated going alone, especially when the nature of the appointment had to do with your reproductive health.

It was also extremely helpful to have your husband there for support when you received devastating news from your doctor.

“I’m so sorry Ms. L/n, but you’re completely unable to conceive.”

Ino anxiously grabbed onto your hand. “Do you mean right now, for the foreseeable future, or like… forever?”

“Unfortunately, Mr. Takuma, I mean forever. She will never be able to carry a baby.”

You sat there, dumbfounded, unable to create even a single thought as your world crashed down around you. Sensing your anguish, the doctor stepped out of the room to let you two have a few minutes alone.

The room was deathly quiet, the only sound being the tick of a clock on the wall and your heart pounding in your chest.

“What are we gonna do?” you eventually said, your mouth dry as a desert. You turned to look at the man next to you, tears finally filling up your eyes. “Ino?”

“I… I don’t know,” he responded with a defeated tone and tearing up as well. “I…”

You were both at a loss for words. You registered Ino’s hand leaving your own, the empty feeling mirroring how you felt inside, until he brought you into a bone crushing hug, his tears soaking your shoulder.

“We’re gonna get through this,” he said, sniffling, “we have to. This sucks now, and it’s gonna suck for a long time after this, but we still have each other which is more than I could ever hope for.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice small. “You’d be alright if we didn’t have a kid?”

He gave you an adoring smile. “Of course I’d be alright. If having a baby of our own isn’t in the cards for us, that doesn’t mean we can’t raise a kid. We could look into adoption or who knows, maybe we could pull a Nanami and find ourselves mentoring our own little Ino.”

The giggle you let out was a testament to the strength of your relationship and Ino’s commitment to always keep your spirits up when times get extremely tough.

Gojo:

You finally let out the shuddered breath that you had been holding ever since you left your doctor’s appointment. You had gone in because you and Satoru had been trying for a baby for over a year now and still hadn’t made any progress. What the doctor figured out, though, was what you had been dreading this entire time but prayed wasn’t the case.

“Hey! How was it?” Satoru’s chirpy voice rang out in your apartment, causing your eyes to well with tears.

“Not good,” you called out. Satoru was in the living room with you in an instant, a frown gracing his pink lips.

“Eh? What happened?”

“The doctor said I can’t have a baby, Satoru. We can’t… we can’t start the family we always wanted.”

You sat on the couch, numbness taking over. You felt tears roll down your cheeks but you barely registered them. You could hardly acknowledge your husband wrapping his long arms around you to comfort you (and himself).

“No baby, no future heir. I’ve single-handedly ruined our chances at continuing the Gojo clan.” You looked up at the white haired man. “Satoru, I’m sorry-”

“Y/n, please. I don’t care about any of that shit. There’s, like, a million of us anyway,” he said, waving his hand nonchalantly. “I wanted to start a family with you because I love you. If we can’t do it the fun old fashioned way, I’m sure we can look into adoption if you’re up for that. If it ends up just being us two, I’m fine with that as well. As long as I have you, I’m happy.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, cuddling into his side. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding onto you a little tighter.

Geto:

“Darling, you got a letter in the mail today,” Suguru greeted as he walked inside. You took the envelope from him outstretched hand and gasped.

“It’s from my doctor,” you replied, nervously ripping it open. You had been waiting for results about the state of your fertility since you and Suguru weren’t having any luck having a baby on your own. You pulled out the paper and read through each sentence quickly, until one practically punched you in the gut.

…which indicates you are unable to carry pregnancy to term.

The paper fell gracefully from your grasp, landing on the floor, and you felt like you were about to join it with the way your knees were buckling.

“Take a seat, my love,” Suguru said worriedly, holding you up and guiding you to the nearest chair. He bent over and picked up the paper, reading it as well. Even in your despair you saw the way his expression fell, probably feeling just as crestfallen as you were.

“I’m sorry I can’t give us what we wanted,” you choked out, putting your head in your hands. He was by your side in no time, kneeling down to meet your gaze.

“Y/n, look at me.” You did so, wiping your nose with a tissue. “This isn’t an ideal situation but you’re not to blame. We’ll figure something out.”

“But the girls, they wanted a little sibling.”

“But at least we have them,” he reasoned, causing you to nod in agreement. “And I have you. That’s all I’ve ever wished to have. Anything else is a happy bonus.”

He took a handkerchief from his pocket and softly dabbed at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t want you to cry anymore, alright? We’re in this together.”

Nanami:

Your husband Kento was still gone at work by the time you had come back from your appointment with the doctor so you decided to curl up in bed. You had just received the worst news any hopeful mom-to-be could get: you could never get pregnant. You couldn’t stop replaying the words in your head, further torturing yourself. You didn’t even notice Kento coming home, calling out your name, or opening the bedroom door.

“Y/n?” he asked softly before noticing your still figure in the bed. You were facing the opposite way of the door so he treaded lightly across the room, coughing a bit so as not to scare you.

“Are you alright?” he wondered, the bed dipping as he sat next to you and stroked your hair.

“We can’t have a baby, Kento,” you blurted out. “I’m a failure.”

If he was surprised at the news, you couldn’t tell with the way his demeanor stayed calm, cool, and collected.

“First of all, that’s not even close to the truth. You’re an amazing person, a caring wife. You’re nothing close to a failure.” He brushed hair away from your forehead and placed his lips there for an elongated moment.

“Do you want to talk about it or do you want to lie here awhile? Either is understandable,” said Kento after a long bout of silence.

“I’d like to talk about it over dinner, if that’s alright. For now, I just want to lay down.”

“Of course.”

He kissed your hand and stood up, taking off his tie before cuddling up next to you.

“Having you in my life, Mrs. Nanami, is more than enough for me.”

Choso:

Choso came with you to your doctor’s appointment to help calm your nerves, his steady presence more than welcome when the future of your family was hanging in the balance.

“So I’m looking at your results, and it looks like…”

Choso squeezed your hand gently when the doctor spoke.

“…you cannot become pregnant. I’m so sorry,” your doctor told you. “This is a lot to take in, I’m sure, so I’ll give you two a moment to yourselves if you’d like.”

“Please,” Choso answered for you as you were unable to speak. You sat in the chair, emotion overwhelming your entire being. Choso held tightly to your hand as he looked deep into your glassy eyes.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” His big brown eyes were also wet with sorrow.

“Why are you sorry? I’m the one who can’t make our dream of having a family come true,” you cried.

“Shh, it’s not your fault,” he soothed, pressing you close to his chest as you sniffled. “You’re being way too hard on yourself. This is a horrible situation but we’ll figure it out together like we always do. You’re not alone in this, or anything else.”

You eventually separated your face from his shoulder and he wiped it softly with a tissue, clearing away your tears.

“We’re a team. We’re a family, baby or not. My love for you will never be shaken.”

He placed his hands lovingly on your cheeks and gave you a kiss on your forehead, reminding you exactly why you wanted to be with him forever.

Toji:

You had just left your doctor’s appointment, your shoulders heavy with the burden of your hopes and dreams shattered by the fact you couldn’t get pregnant. Dialing a number you knew by heart, you anxiously waited for your husband to answer his phone.

“Hey darlin’, what’s up?”

“I really need to talk to you,” you said, your voice small as you tried to not break down over the phone.

“Where are you? I’m on my way now,” Toji said without hesitation. You gave him the address of the clinic you were outside and he told you he’d be there in 10 minutes. You sat on the curb, ignoring the hollow feeling in your chest until you glanced up to see Toji; you burst into tears.

“Woah, hey, it’s okay.” He sat next to you and consoled you with a large hand on your back while the other guided you into a hug so he could shield you from any curious onlookers. “Is this about your appointment?”

You cried harder.

Toji sat with you for a long time as you sobbed. After what seemed like forever, your tears had run dry and you were hiccuping into his broad chest.

“I’m here for you. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t get pregnant. Ever. We won’t be able to have a baby,” you mumbled as you stared at a crack in the sidewalk.

“Here I was, thinkin’ you only had a few days to live.”

You glared at him. “Not funny.”

“Not trying to be for once.” You were pulled in closer to his chest once more as he rested his chin on the top of your head. “I’m sorry that’s the news you got. I know we were looking forward to having a kid but if it’s not in the cards for us, I’ll be alright as long as I have you.”

“Are you sure? You would be a great dad and I don’t want to take that away from you.”

“And you’d be an amazing mom. I wouldn’t want kids with any other woman.”

“Thanks, Toji. I really love you.”

He gave you a lopsided smile. “Let’s get off this dirty ass street and go home.”

[pdriesta]

a love like this — 8

an — a series of blurbs based on the main couple of "something real". this is based on this request! i am sorry it took so long, i hope it was worth the wait!

masterlist

the bedroom was calm and quiet, the kind of peace that only settled late at night when the world outside felt far away. y/n sat cross-legged on the bed, her ipad propped on her knees, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose. her focus was razor-sharp, her finger swiping across the screen as she scrolled through lists, pictures, and notes. she was the picture of a type-a planner, meticulous in her approach to everything, even birthdays.

beside her, jude was reclined against the headboard, his arm lazily draped over her waist. her leg was slung over his, and his fingers traced absent patterns along her thigh, his touch soft and soothing. his phone lay forgotten in his lap as his gaze remained fixed on her. she looked so cute like this, glasses perched crookedly, lips pursed in concentration, completely in her element. the corners of his mouth quirked up in a smile every time she frowned slightly or adjusted her glasses with an impatient push.

"all right," she said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. her tone was all business as she glanced at him over the top of her glasses. "we’ve narrowed dinner down to two options. do you want something fancy and formal, or cozy and intimate?"

he leaned forward slightly, his head hovering near hers as he peered at the screen, his face close enough that he could smell the faint vanilla of her lotion. "cozy," he said without hesitation, his voice warm. "mum’s not really into all that posh stuff."

y/n nodded, her lips curving into a satisfied smile as she made a quick note on the ipad. "good choice. there’s this little italian place i found. family-run, super cozy vibe, and they do a special birthday dessert. i think she’d love it."

“sounds perfect,” jude said, his hand sliding up and down her thigh now, squeezing gently as he watched her. “you’re really good at this, you know?”

“someone has to be,” she teased, shooting him a knowing look, her brows raising slightly. “if i left it to you and jobe, we'd be stuck with you boys playing fifa all night.”

he laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained, his head tilting back slightly. “true. but you know she’d still be happy with that.”

“sure,” y/n said, her tone softening as she glanced at him. “but she deserves more. she deserves to feel celebrated.”

“we both do,” jude agreed, his voice quieter now, laced with a genuine gratitude that made her pause. “thanks for helping me with this, baby.”

she leaned into his side briefly, her cheek brushing against his shoulder, and his heart swelled at the simple gesture. “don’t thank me yet. we still have decorations to figure out. oh, and we need a distraction plan. i don’t trust jobe to handle this without supervision.”

jude groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed like a petulant child. “he’s going to be a nightmare, isn’t he?”

“you’re both nightmares,” she said with a smirk, swiping at her screen again.

his hand stilled on her thigh for a moment as he stared up at her, his chest tightening at how into this she was. her energy, her enthusiasm—it all meant so much to him. it was more than just planning his mum’s birthday; it was about how she always cared, how she always gave her all.

“what?” she asked, blinking down at him when she noticed his silence.

“nothing,” jude said, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “just... you.”

she tilted her head, her brows knitting in confusion. “what about me?”

he reached up, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone before he kissed her cheek, lingering just long enough for her to giggle. “just love you, that’s all,” he murmured.

she rolled her eyes, but her blush betrayed her. “focus, jude. we still have work to do.”

“nah,” he said lazily, pulling her ipad out of her hands and setting it on the nightstand. “you’ve done enough planning for tonight. come here.”

“jude—” she started, but his hands were already guiding her to lie against his chest, her leg still draped over his as his fingers resumed their slow, deliberate strokes along her thigh.

“you’re amazing, you know that?” he said softly, his lips brushing the top of her head.

“you’re just saying that because i’m doing all the work,” she teased, though her voice wavered, her heart fluttering at his words.

“nah, it’s because it’s true,” he replied, his eyes fixed on her as she nuzzled into him, her hand splaying across his chest. “and because i’m obsessed with you.”

she laughed softly, the sound muffled against his shirt. “don’t let that go to your head.”

“too late,” he said with a grin, pressing another kiss to her temple. “but for real, baby. thank you. this is going to mean the world to her.”

y/n tilted her head up to look at him, her expression softening. “you’re welcome, jude.”

he stared down at her, his heart swelling with so much love it almost hurt. “how did i get so lucky?”

“probably because i felt bad for you,” she teased, grinning up at him.

he laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest. “you’re terrible.”

“and you’re stuck with me,” she quipped, her grin widening.

“damn right,” he said, pulling her closer, his lips brushing against hers in a tender kiss. “and don’t you forget it.”

the next morning, sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, painting the cozy space in warm golden hues. y/n sat across from denise at the wooden table, a steaming mug of tea cupped in her hands. the faint scent of chamomile mingled with the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread, leftovers from breakfast still sitting on the counter.

y/n’s phone was tucked discreetly in her lap, her thumb moving quickly across the screen as she sent updates to jude.

y/n: everything’s good here. she hasn’t suspected a thing. we miss you, though.

she glanced up at denise, who was eyeing her with the kind of look that only a mother could give, one that seemed to see right through her.

clearing her throat, y/n set her mug down with a light clink and forced a casual tone. “so,” she began, her voice bright, “i was thinking we could have a little girls’ day. you know, just the two of us. nails, maybe hair, a bit of pampering. what do you think?”

denise arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile as she cradled her own mug. “you’re spoiling me, aren’t you?”

y/n mirrored her smile, feigning nonchalance. “of course. it’s your birthday week—you deserve it.” she reached for her tea, taking a sip to steady herself under denise’s knowing gaze.

“and jude’s too busy to hang out, is he?” denise asked, her tone light but laced with suspicion, her eyes narrowing just slightly.

y/n shrugged, her expression carefully neutral. “he said he’s got things to do,” she replied smoothly, though her phone vibrated softly in her lap, likely another message from jude. “so, what do you say? just us girls?”

denise studied her for a moment, her smile widening as if she were onto something but didn’t feel the need to press. “all right,” she said with a soft laugh, shaking her head. “you’re better company than him anyway.”

y/n laughed, relieved, and stood to grab her bag from the counter. “don’t let him hear you say that. his ego will take a battering.”

“oh, i’ll tell him to his face,” denise quipped, her voice full of playful mischief as she stood as well, straightening her blouse.

y/n grinned, her hand brushing her phone in her pocket as she sent one last message to jude

y/n: we’re heading out. don’t mess anything up while we’re gone.

“ready to go?” y/n asked, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“ready,” denise said, glancing at her with a smile. “this better not be some elaborate scheme you and my son cooked up.”

y/n feigned innocence, her eyes wide as she held the door open. “me? never. you know i’m much more trustworthy than jude.”

denise chuckled, stepping outside. “we’ll see about that.”

as they walked down the path, y/n couldn’t help but smile to herself. the plan was going smoothly so far, but the hard part was yet to come. she only hoped jude had everything under control.

the nail salon was a picture of calm—soft instrumental music playing in the background, the gentle whir of dryers filling the air, and a faint lavender scent drifting through the space. denise was thoroughly relaxed, reclining in her pedicure chair as a technician worked on her feet. her expression was one of pure bliss, and y/n felt a brief pang of guilt for what was happening behind the scenes.

beside her, y/n was fidgeting, flipping through the color swatches with half the attention they deserved. her mind wasn’t on the vibrant shades of polish or the serene atmosphere. it was on her phone, which she’d tucked into the pocket of her hoodie to avoid distraction. unfortunately, that plan was failing miserably.

her phone buzzed once. then again. then, a third time in rapid succession.

denise opened one eye, glancing at y/n’s jittery movements. “someone’s popular,” she teased, her tone light.

y/n forced a nervous laugh, waving it off. “probably just spam,” she said, clearly lying through her teeth. the buzzing continued.

denise smirked, sitting up slightly. “spam texts don’t usually come in triplets. what’s going on?”

“nothing!” y/n blurted, far too quickly to be convincing. she hesitated for a beat, then turned to denise with a sheepish smile. “actually, uh… could you grab my phone? it’s kind of stuck in my pocket, and my nails are wet.”

denise gave her an amused look, but she reached for the phone, pulling it free and holding it out. “here you go, miss ‘nothing’s going on.’”

“thanks!” y/n said brightly, taking it with a little too much enthusiasm. she unlocked it and glanced at the screen—and froze.

the group chat with jude and jobe was in full-blown chaos.

jude: WHERE’S THE DUCT TAPE? jobe: WE DON’T HAVE ANY. WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME WE NEEDED IT? jude: I DID TELL YOU. YOU NEVER LISTEN. jobe: THIS IS YOUR FAULT. jude: WE NEED TO STOP ARGUING.

y/n’s eyes widened as it hit her like a brick to the face—she had completely forgotten about the surprise they were planning for denise. her stomach dropped, and she let out a strangled noise that made denise sit up straighter.

“what’s wrong?” denise asked, her concern giving way to curiosity as she watched y/n’s panicked expression.

“uh, nothing!” y/n said, her voice climbing several octaves. she tilted the phone away from denise’s view, typing furiously.

y/n: STOP TEXTING ME. SHE’S RIGHT HERE. I FORGOT. FIX IT.

another buzz came through before she could lock the screen.

jobe: we’re out of balloons. jude: WHY ARE WE OUT OF BALLOONS? jobe: ask yourself that, mr. “i need to test how much they can stretch before they pop.” jude: don’t bring science into this.

y/n groaned audibly, smacking her forehead with her free hand.

“y/n,” denise said, leaning over with an amused smile, “you’re acting like you just got caught cheating on a test. what’s going on?”

“NOTHING!” y/n squeaked, quickly locking her phone. she was failing spectacularly at hiding her guilt, and denise was enjoying every second of it.

“let me see,” denise said, reaching for the phone.

y/n dove—literally dove—out of her chair, clutching the phone to her chest like it held state secrets. “nope! nope! everything’s fine! don’t worry about it!”

the salon technician paused mid-swipe, blinking in confusion as y/n scrambled back into her seat, trying to act normal while clearly anything but.

denise raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as she fought back laughter. “you’re hiding something,” she said, crossing her arms.

“me? hiding? never!” y/n stammered, avoiding eye contact. her phone buzzed again, and she visibly winced.

denise smirked. “it’s jude and jobe, isn’t it?”

y/n froze, her eyes darting to denise like a deer caught in headlights. “…no?”

denise burst out laughing, her suspicion confirmed. “oh, they’re up to something, aren’t they? and you’re in on it.”

“nope!” y/n said, shaking her head so quickly it was a wonder she didn’t get whiplash. “not me! i don’t know anything!”

denise leaned back in her chair, still laughing. “whatever it is, it’s going to be a disaster, isn’t it?”

y/n groaned, covering her face with her hands. “probably,” she muttered, which only made denise laugh harder.

despite the chaos, y/n couldn’t help but smile a little. as disastrous as the boys might be, she had to admit—it was shaping up to be a memorable surprise.

meanwhile, jude and jobe were knee-deep in party supplies. balloons were scattered across the floor, some half-inflated, others popped. the banner they’d bought was somehow tangled beyond recognition, and the cake sat untouched in its box.

“this is a disaster,” jobe muttered, holding up a deflated balloon.

“just focus,” jude said, trying to untangle the banner with one hand while texting y/n updates with the other.

when y/n’s message came through, telling them to stop fighting and focus, jude let out a breath of relief. “see? she believes in us.”

“she’s the only one,” jobe said dryly, but he grabbed the tape and got to work on the streamers.

when y/n and denise walked through the door later that evening, denise froze in her tracks, her eyes widening. the living room was a breathtaking vision of golden balloons floating in clusters, warm fairy lights strung across the walls, and a table beautifully arranged with a spread of food, desserts, and neatly wrapped gifts.

but what truly stole the scene were the three men standing at the center of it all—mark, jude, and jobe—all grinning from ear to ear.

“surprise!” they shouted in unison, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of excitement.

denise’s hands flew to her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes. “you lot… oh, my boys…” her voice cracked as she clutched her chest, clearly overwhelmed.

mark stepped forward first, pulling her into a warm embrace. “happy birthday, love. you deserve this and so much more.”

“oh, mark…” denise whispered, her voice trembling as she leaned into him. “thank you.”

jude was next, stepping in with a boyish grin as he wrapped her in a tight hug. “happy birthday, mum. hope we did you proud.”

denise held onto him for a moment longer, cupping his face as she pulled back. “you always do.”

jobe was already hovering nearby, shuffling awkwardly but with a proud smile. when denise turned to him, he opened his arms sheepishly. “i helped too, you know.”

“of course you did, my baby,” denise cooed, pulling him into a hug that made jobe groan but didn’t stop him from holding on just as tightly.

when she finally pulled back, her tear-filled eyes landed on y/n, and her expression softened into something almost mischievous. “you had a hand in this, didn’t you?”

y/n laughed nervously, glancing at jude and jobe for backup that didn’t come. “maybe just a little,” she admitted, her cheeks warming.

denise didn’t hesitate to wrap her in a hug, her voice warm and full of affection. “well, you’ve officially earned your spot as my favorite.”

“hey!” jude protested immediately, stepping forward to slide an arm around y/n’s waist. “she’s mine, actually.”

“not today,” denise said with a playful laugh as she wiped her tears and gestured to the table. “now, let’s eat before you three manage to burn something else.”

“oi!” jude shot back, feigning offense. “dad was the one in charge of the oven.”

“and i supervised,” mark added with a grin, clapping jude on the shoulder.

denise shook her head, a fond smile playing on her lips as she took her seat at the table. “you’re all lucky i love you so much.”

jobe plopped into his chair, shooting a pointed look at jude. “she loves me more, though.”

jude crossed his arms, leaning casually against the table. “let’s not get carried away. everyone knows i’m the favorite—firstborn, golden child, all that.”

“golden child?” jobe repeated, raising an eyebrow. “you couldn’t even blow up balloons without popping half of them. i had to fix your mess.”

“fix?” jude shot back. “half the streamers are lopsided because of you!”

denise laughed, shaking her head as she served herself a plate. “you’re both my favorites, and that’s final. now stop bickering and eat before i take the title away altogether.”

y/n giggled, pulling a neatly wrapped box from the pile of gifts. “maybe we should let auntie decide after she opens these. the best gift wins favorite status.”

denise opened her presents one by one, her laughter and joy filling the room. jude’s gift—a personalized bracelet with charms representing their family—earned an emotional gasp, while jobe’s cozy slippers drew an equally delighted response.

“oh, these are perfect!” denise exclaimed, slipping the soft slippers onto her feet immediately.

mark chuckled as he poured drinks for everyone. “see? between the three of us, we’ve got everything covered.”

jobe groaned dramatically, slumping in his chair. “ugh, i’m surrounded by couples. it’s disgusting.”

“don’t be jealous, mate,” jude teased, leaning over to nudge him. “your time will come.”

y/n smirked. “maybe one of the girls here will catch your eye.”

“great,” jobe muttered, shaking his head. “just what i need—relationship advice from you two.”

denise laughed, her hand resting on mark’s arm as she looked around the room. “well, one thing’s for sure: i’m the luckiest woman in the world to have all of you.”

mark leaned over to kiss her temple, while jude and jobe immediately started arguing again over whose gift had been better, their banter filling the air as the family settled in for a night of food, laughter, and love.

hours later, after the laughter and the cake and the countless stories shared, y/n found herself in the kitchen, tidying up some of the remnants of the party. jude appeared in the doorway, his face softer now that the chaos had subsided.

“hey,” he said, walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “we did it.”

y/n turned in his arms, a small smile playing on her lips. “we really did. your mum looked so happy.”

“she was,” jude said, pulling her into a hug, his chin resting on the top of her head. “but let me tell you, next time jobe is on mum duty. you’re with me. i almost had a hundred breakdowns today.”

y/n laughed, her arms tightening around him. “you’re so dramatic.”

“i’m serious,” he said, his tone mock-indignant. “the balloons, the banner, jobe threatening to eat the cake before dinner—it was chaos.”

“well,” y/n said, leaning back to look up at him, “maybe next time jobe can get his hair and nails done. he’d love it.”

jude chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “you’re probably right. but for now, i just want to hold you.”

they stayed like that for a long moment, the noise of the day fading into the background as the comfort of each other took its place.

“i missed you today,” jude murmured, his voice low.

y/n smiled against his chest. “i missed you too. but look at it this way—we survived, and she had an amazing birthday.”

“yeah,” he said softly. “thanks to you.”

“thanks to us,” y/n corrected, lifting her hand for a high-five.

jude grinned, meeting her hand with his. “team bellingham, undefeated.”

she laughed, her head resting against his chest as he held her tighter. the day had been long and chaotic, but in this moment, with jude’s arms around her, it all felt more than worth it.

© PDRIESTA 2025

taglist — @sinners-98-world @stephiii29 @kcharlyy @landosgirlxoxo @judesthighveins @ilovelifes-world @cinderellawithashoe @imnyt @miniemonie2001 @lunamelona

[does-it-introject]

UPDATES

Long time no see, hello!

Remember when I said I'd come back at the beginning of the year... well I was very busy sorting through 400 inbox messages and putting everything in an place where I can actually sort through them properly. SO, updates:

1:

The Account currently features (according to my knowledge) 102 posts. Insane already. You know whats worse? The hypothetical queue planned to 630 posts so far.

That means we have 528 posts waiting for me to be queued.

Posting will begin on Feburary 1st, So I have enough time to queue a bunch of stuff for you. Four posts a day, to keep the rhythm going.

Thank you so much to everyone that requested so far, I already want to apologize for the time some of you will have to wait lolol,, but I still hope you have fun seeing all of these different medias and sources others submitted!

2:

Posts that, from my knowledge, contain commonly triggering elements will be put beneath a cut, with a Trigger Warning in the top and #unsafe in the tags, so block that tag if you don't want to risk anything.

I'm specifically mentioning this, because horror and not so safe for younger audiences material has been submitted. I want this to be a safe place for everyone, this includes those from these sources, as well as those who may be uncomfortable with such medias.

I think adding TWs is the best option here, but if you think differently feel free to send me an ask or something. I'm sure we can work something out.

If you think there's a post without a TW, that should have one, let me know too! I'll see what I can do!

3:

I deleted the Queue Checklist, because it's geniunely really hard to keep track of. Unsure if something has been submitted? Submit it! I really don't mind.

I figured out a good way to keep track of Queue, but have no safe way to share that with others. So just... trust me on this.

4:

Lastly, thank you all for the kind comments under my hiatus post and the anons who send in asks!! I didnt use Tumblr much so I only got to read most of them now, but it geniunely made me very happy!! Thank you!

So... I will spend my days queueing posts. See you on Feburary 1st with new polls!!

[thewritetofreespeech]

Heeyyy, HAPPY NEW YEAR 2025!!! How are you? I hope everything is going well! ❤️ I wish you success and happiness in this year.

Could I please request fem! reader bathing and shooting a sick and injured Choso? He needs help because he can't really do it himself since he is sick. Could it be a really sweet and soft moment between them where reader never saw Choso in such a vulnerable position and Choso is a little shy about it and about the fact that he is naked not looking his best.

Choso's body would react by having a boner and having it twitching at times, but that is only his body reacting , they don't do anything because he is not in the mood, he's a little bit ill and she doesn't want to either. She would continue to wash him out, kiss him now and there and have conversations with him. His body would have these reactions because he is sensitive and because SHE is the one gently helping him.

I can just see a blushing Choso flustered by all the care, understanding and gentleness of his girlfriend completely trusting her. His girlfriend taking good care of him.

-Selenophile 🌙🌌✨

“Achoo!”

“Bless you again.”

Choso groaned, a muddled sound from his chest like the rest of his sickness lingering there. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything? Soup usually helps me.”

“No.” Choso replied. The thought of eating sounding too inconvenient at the moment.

“Well, how about a bath?” [Y/N] asked him. “I’m sure it’s not comfortable being in those sweaty clothes. And the steam might help break up some of that congestion.” A bath did sound nice, Choso decided, and agreed to that at least.

He waited in the bedroom while [Y/N] got it ready. Calling him in once the tub was full and helping out of his clothes. His arms felt like they weighed a ton, so it was difficult to do it himself. “Here you go annnd…there! How is the water?”

“It’s fine.” Choso replied. The hot water sinking into his bones. Alleviating some of the tension and aches in his body.

Choso just sat there in the warm water. Seeming mesmerized by the steam floating to the top; or perhaps it was just that the sickness had reached his brain. He came back to himself when he felt a warm rag press against his shoulder. “I’m not a child.” He told [Y/N]. “I can wash myself.”

She just chuckled. “I know you can,” she told him, “but I just want you to relax and let me take care of you.” The half-curse grumbled. Wanting to argue but honestly too tired.

He sat there as [Y/N] washed the sweat and grime from his body. The steam in fact helping with his chest, along with whatever else she had put in the water. What was it mint? Eucalyptus? By the time she had moved to washing his hair, Choso felt a little more like himself. Still very sick, but at least not so bogged down. He looked down as she moved to rinse the shampoo out and saw that his lower part wasn’t tired either.

“What is it Choso? Something wrong?”

“No. Nothing.” He told [Y/N] as he moved around to cover it up. Embarrassed that he was getting hard over someone just taking care of him. “I can finish on my own, please.”

[Y/N] agreed and gave him some privacy. The moment she left his erection started to come down. Seeming to not have the will anymore once the object of his desire was no longer in the room.

Choso finished cleaning himself up and slipped into some clean clothes. When he came out of the bedroom he went straight back to bed. [Y/N] came in a little later to ask how he was feeling and he just groaned. Fidgeting under the covers as his cock reawakened while she pet his head.

“Are you sure I can't get you anything else?” She asked.

“No,” Choso told her, “just stay.” He fell asleep not long after that. Resting being the best medicine, after all.

[gunilslaugh]

hihi! was wondering if I could request dyeing Junhan’s hair at like idk 3 AM 🙂‍↕️😸

Hello Hello! I hope that you like this!

Han Hyeongjun Summary: Dying Hyeongjun’s hair at 3am when you two should be sleeping. (idol au) WC:640 Warning:none

photo not mine credits to owner.

Browsing the hair dye section at 2:45 am definitely wasn’t what either Hyeongjun or you had planned, but sometimes it was fun to make spontaneous and maybe a little questionable decisions. 

“Won’t the company be mad at you dying your hair without permission though?” you asked with a hint of concern as you inspected a box of dye. 

“I might get scolded a bit, but they’re pretty open about letting us try out hair that we want,” he answered, picking up a box of sapphire black hair dye. 

“Ooh that would look good on you,” you say, taking the box from his hand. “The blue in it will help make the black not look flat and it matches your skin tone well,” you add, holding the box up to his face. 

“I didn’t know you knew so much about hair,” he said with a slight chuckle. 

“I’m no cosmetologist, but I do know a few things,” you shrug. “Do you like this color? Should we get it?” you questioned. 

“Yeah I like it and I trust your opinion,” he smiled. 

“Great , let’s get it,” you smile back at him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Currently you're both in the bathroom of your apartment. Changed into clothes that you guys don’t care about. Your hand gloved up, but you can still feel the coolness of the dye seep through them. Hyeongjun is seated on the edge of the tub as you apply the dye to his head. His eyes are closed, enjoying the feeling of your hands working the dye into his roots. 

“Ah,” you let out, suddenly removing your hands from his hair.

“Are you ok?” Hyeongjun checked, eyes shooting open. 

“Yeah I’m fine, it’s just…” you sniff, scrunching your nose. “My nose itches and I can’t-” you sniff again, shaking your head a little. “Scratch it.” Hyeongjun let’s a relieved breath and a slight laugh. 

“Come here,” he says gently. You crouch down in front of him. He lifts his hand to scratch your nose. “Here?” he asked. 

“Up a little bit.” He moved his hand up. “No wait down-ah right there.” Hyeongjun’s nails satisfy the itch on your nose. “Thanks,” you say standing back up. Your hands resume massaging the dye into his hair. Hyeonjun’s eyes fell closed once more. 

“Now we wait,” you announce, removing the gloves from your hands. After you made sure that his hair was thoroughly covered with the dye.

You set a timer for thirty minutes and Hyeonjun pulls up a playlist for you two to listen to while waiting for the dye to sit in his hair. 

Once the timer rings you turn on the water in the shower, adjusting the temperature and begin to carefully rinse the color from Hyeonjun’s hair, watching as the stained water disappears down the drain. 

“There all done,” you state, setting the towel you were using to dry his hair to the side. The pair of you walked over to the bathroom mirror so that Hyeonjun could see the finished result. “What do you think?” you asked. 

“I like it. You did a good job and you're right I think it suits me,” he replies. 

“It totally does. Villains are gonna freak out,” you say playfully, making Hyeongjun laugh. “Come on, let's take some pictures,” you insist. After snapping some pictures you send them to Hyeongjun, so that he can upload them. 

By the time you're finished cleaning up the sun is starting to peek out from the horizon. You and Hyeongjun can definitely feel the drowsiness starting to kick in. The two of you make yourselves comfortable under the covers of your bed. Knowing that you’ll have to be up in a few hours, but neither of you really care as you wrap your arms around each other whispering out ironic goodnights to each other as the sun rises.

taglist: @purplelady85 @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses @mon2sunjinsuver @mxlly143 @seungseung-minmin @junhanism

comment or message me to be added!

[zafill]

Can I ask for a kyojuro x a girl who happens to look exactly like his mother ruka?

(this is my time requesting so I'm really nervous)

A Flicker of Flame

HII UR MY FIRST REQUEST SO IM SO EXCITED!!!

warnings: none

note: Its a bit short, if you want a pt.2 just ask :3

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The streets of the red light district were alive with the hum of night time activity. Lanterns hung from the eaves of the shops, casting soft red glows on the faces of passing strangers. The scent of sake and sweet perfumes lingered in the air, blending with the whispers of conversations. Y/n walked quietly through the crowd, her sharp eyes scanning every corner of the bustling marketplace.

She had her reasons for being here. Her life in the village hadn't been kind, and the things she did to survive were things she would never admit aloud. Tonight, though, her eyes were set on one particular target—a man known for his flaming red hair, his powerful presence, and his unwavering sense of honor.

Kyojuro Rengoku.

She had heard of him, of course. The Flame Hashira had been in the area before, fighting demons to protect the city. The people praised him for his strength, his commitment, and his fiery spirit. They spoke of his kindness, his bravery, and how he had saved the city on multiple occasions. It seemed like everyone was enamored with him. Except Y/n.

She couldn't bring herself to like him, despite everything he had done. The truth was, she found it hard to trust people who tried too hard to be "good."

Y/n moved through the throngs of people with practiced ease, her gaze always shifting from face to face, from shadow to shadow. She was a master of her craft, slipping unnoticed through crowded streets, her hands light as air as they lifted coin purses from unsuspecting victims. The bustling red-light district was perfect for someone like her—chaotic, filled with distractions, and yet, she always kept her focus sharp.

She had heard Rengoku was nearby, having been seen leaving a tavern a short while ago. Her target was a man who stood out, even in a crowd. His towering figure and bright, fiery hair could make him a beacon in the dark, and that was exactly what she needed. It was always easier to pick the pockets of those who were too focused on their own sense of justice to pay attention to the world around them.

The night air was thick with the smell of incense and the faintest hint of smoke. Y/n knew this place all too well—she had slipped through these streets countless times, taking what she could, never looking back. She was always quick, always calculating. But tonight, something felt different. Tonight, she wasn’t just any pickpocket. She had her sights set on something bigger.

Kyojuro Rengoku was tall, his posture rigid, as though he was made of iron and fire. His crimson hair, glowing faintly under the lantern lights, reminded Y/n of a blaze, fierce and untamable. She watched him from a distance as he spoke with the street vendors, exchanging pleasantries and leaving generous tips. The people adored him, surrounding him with smiles and admiration. He was their hero, the man who protected them from demons and dangers alike.

Y/n's lips curled into a bitter smile as she adjusted her cloak, allowing it to fall loosely around her form. She moved closer, blending into the crowd, eyes fixed on the pouch hanging from Rengoku's waist. It was tucked away in a way that screamed "easy pick," but it was guarded by his sheer presence—the kind of presence that made everyone part ways without even realizing it.

Taking a deep breath, Y/n reached for the knife tucked beneath her sleeve. She wasn’t planning to use it, not tonight. But a sharp edge was always a good reminder of what she was capable of. She wasn’t afraid of a fight. Not anymore.

Her pace quickened, and in the span of a few moments, she was close enough to make her move. As she brushed past him, her fingers brushed the pouch gently, carefully, her movements like water, silent and swift. She felt the familiar weight shift in her hand, her fingers deftly unlatching the string that held it closed. The pouch slipped free, light as a feather.

But then—

Rengoku’s voice rang out, low and calm, yet full of an undeniable power. "I believe you’ve taken something that doesn’t belong to you."

Y/n froze, her heart skipping a beat. She hadn’t expected him to notice, to catch her so easily. She’d been so sure of herself, so confident that this would be like any other job.

Y/n’s breath hitched, but she quickly masked it with a practiced air of innocence. She straightened, feigning surprise, her eyes wide as she turned to face him.

“Excuse me?” she asked, her voice soft, as if she had no idea what he was talking about. Her hand stayed steady, the pouch still clutched in her fingers, hidden behind the folds of her cloak.

Rengoku's amber gaze never wavered from her. His eyes were unwavering, like flames that burned with sincerity and unshakable certainty. He didn’t flinch at her act; he simply stepped closer, his presence like the heat of a fire, undeniable and relentless.

"You're quite skilled," he said, his voice calm, though there was a quiet intensity beneath the words. "But I can see the pouch you’ve taken. I don’t think you need to deny it."

Y/n’s mind raced. She knew she could make a run for it—escape into the darkened alleyways and lose herself in the maze of the district. She’d done it countless times before. But something about Rengoku’s gaze made her hesitate. The usual fear she felt when caught had vanished, replaced by a strange curiosity. Why wasn’t he angry? Why was he so sure of himself?

She took a breath, letting her mask slip just slightly. “I don’t know what you're talking about,” she said again, but this time, the edge of her voice wasn’t as sharp. Her words didn’t carry the usual bite; they felt empty.

Rengoku gave a soft sigh, not out of frustration, but as if he had expected this response. His eyes softened, and for the briefest moment, Y/n could almost see past the warrior and into the man beneath. The one who had seen countless battles, fought for people who might never know his name, and stood unwavering even when the world around him crumbled.

“You don’t have to keep pretending," he said gently, his voice surprisingly tender. "I understand why you do it, the way you live. But stealing from others won’t fill the emptiness inside. You don’t have to carry that weight alone."

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. His words weren’t angry or accusatory—they were understanding. Almost like he knew. Like he saw through all the walls she had so carefully built around herself.

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, and before she could stop herself, her legs were already moving, carrying her away from Rengoku’s steady gaze. His words reverberated in her mind, but she couldn’t let them settle. Not yet. Not when she still had so much to run from.

She darted down a narrow alleyway, weaving between shadowed doorways and discarded crates. The sounds of the bustling red-light district faded, replaced by the echo of her hurried footsteps and the sharp breaths she took as she pressed herself against the cool stone wall.

Her pulse was racing, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Why did he have to say that? She didn’t want anyone to understand her. She didn’t want to be seen, not like that. She needed to forget about Rengoku and his damned kindness. People like him never understood. They always thought they could save someone like her, but they never could. Not really.

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, pushing the thoughts away as she crouched behind a stack of crates, hoping the shadows would conceal her. She stayed perfectly still, listening for any sign that Rengoku had followed her.

But no matter how hard she tried to keep her breath steady, it came in sharp, uneven gasps. Her hands clenched at her sides, the pouch now sitting heavy in her palm, the weight of it a constant reminder of what she had almost done.

Her eyes flicked toward the alley’s mouth, waiting for the familiar sounds of footsteps to fade.

Seconds passed. Then minutes.

But they didn’t fade. Instead, she heard a voice—a calm, unhurried voice—cut through the stillness of the alley.

“I know you’re here.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. How?

Her eyes widened, and she turned her head just enough to see the silhouette of Rengoku standing at the far end of the alley. He hadn’t even run after her, hadn’t rushed to catch up. No, he had been patient, waiting for her to come to terms with whatever it was she was running from.

His amber eyes gleamed in the low light, calm and unwavering, as if he had always known she would end up here.

“There's no reason to run,” he said gently, his voice like a warm flame in the cold night air. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Y/n’s instincts screamed at her to move, to escape before he could catch her again, but something in the way he spoke—something in the way he wasn’t threatening or angry—stilled her.

He stepped closer, his posture relaxed yet firm, like a man who had faced countless trials and was ready for whatever came next, but with no desire to force her hand.

Y/n’s chest tightened, her mind a swirl of conflicting thoughts. She felt trapped, cornered by his calm presence, unable to run or hide. The weight of the pouch in her hand felt unbearable now, its coins clinking in the silence between them.

With a sharp exhale, Y/n tossed the pouch back toward him, letting it fall to the ground with a dull thud. She pulled her hood back with a swift motion, the dark fabric falling away from her face, revealing the features she had kept hidden for so long.

Rengoku froze.

For a long moment, there was no sound, no movement except the quiet rustle of her cloak in the night air. Y/n tilted her head slightly, narrowing her eyes at him, as though daring him to say something. Anything.

But when his amber eyes locked onto her, his mouth parted in disbelief, and his voice trembled with something she couldn’t quite place.

"Mom...?"

Y/n blinked, her mind struggling to catch up. Her breath caught in her throat, a confused laugh escaping her before she could stop it. "What?!" she snapped, her hands flying up as if to shield herself from whatever madness was unfolding before her. "What do you mean, 'Mom'? Are you out of your mind or something?"

Rengoku took a step forward, his face etched with shock, his eyes wide with recognition. "I... it can’t be. But your eyes—"

Y/n’s eyes narrowed, her pulse racing in confusion and frustration. She threw her hands up in the air, exasperated, and took a sharp step back, her posture defensive.

“Do I look old enough to be your mother?!?!" she snapped, her voice rising with disbelief. “I mean, seriously, what is this? Some kind of sick joke? Do I look like I’m in my thirties or something?! I’m not your mom!”

Her words cut through the air, filled with a mixture of anger and pure confusion. She had no idea what was going on or why this stranger—this man she had just met, someone who’d seemed so calm and collected, was now looking at her with that wide-eyed recognition.

Rengoku seemed to recoil, his hands slightly raised in a gesture of apology, but he didn’t back away. His expression was a mix of concern and bewilderment, the shock of the moment still written clearly across his face.

“I—I’m sorry. It’s just… your eyes. They’re so familiar,” he stammered, though his voice remained steady. "I... I didn’t mean to—"

Y/n cut him off, shaking her head in disbelief. “No, no. No. I’m not your long-lost mother, and if you think I am, you’ve got some serious issues you need to sort out. My life’s hard enough without you adding some random, weird connection I didn’t ask for.”

Y/n’s breath hitched in frustration, her hands still clenched tightly by her sides as she glared at him, daring him to say anything more. She wasn’t sure what game he was playing, but she wasn’t about to entertain it any longer.

Rengoku, still standing there with that mixture of shock and regret in his eyes, seemed to deflate slightly under her sharp words. His face reddened, and he shifted uncomfortably, clearly caught off guard by her anger and the situation at hand.

“I... I’m really sorry,” he muttered, his voice lower now, laced with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. It’s just...”

He trailed off, the words caught in his throat as he glanced at the pouch of money still resting on the ground between them, the coins catching the faint glow of the lanterns above.

“Keep the money...” he mumbled, his voice almost inaudible now. His cheeks were flushed, a stark contrast to his usual fiery demeanor, and his eyes darted anywhere but at her.

With that, he gave a small bow of his head, and without another word, he turned on his heel and began to walk away, his broad shoulders slightly hunched, his back turned in silent retreat.

Y/n watched him go, her mind swirling with a mixture of confusion, frustration, and something else she couldn’t quite place. She hadn’t expected him to just... give up like that.

As he disappeared into the distance, she couldn’t help but mutter under her breath, “What a weird guy.”

And with that, she was left alone in the quiet alley, the pouch still lying untouched at her feet, the night air thick with the weight of everything unsaid.

[pencap]

.

[laurasimonsdaughter]

To the anon who sent the Magisowo question from the Scared Ogre Mother: I'm really sorry but I don't know how to answer such a serious question in a fun urban fantasy way, I hope you don't mind <3

[uglygirltrying]

barbarian!ghost x princess!reader | pt2 to this

princess!reader whose new life, after the wedding, was as easy as it could possibly be. she just had to sit still and look pretty. most difficult part of her new life, was her new husband. he's a hard head. a piece of work, as she liked to think. as if he could be changed.

barbarian!ghost who liked his new wife. enjoyed her, even. she's pretty, sure. but she's a good girl too. and he liked that. he liked how he needed to protect her. keep her safe and warm. fed and happy. and, he'd gladly do just that.

princess!reader whose stuff was starting to make itself home. her clothes filled the dresser. her vanity table stood against the wall. fresh vase of roses on the nightstand every morning.

her smell stuck on the pillows.

barbarian!ghost who would only trust his most loyal men to guard her. the men he trusted, not to let his wife get hurt. not get touched. the men he trusted, to always know, whose wife the princess was.

barbarian!ghost who would probably never admit how much he was actually ready to do for her.

how many men he would kill at her word, before ever asking anything in return.

how many kingdoms he would take over, just for her to wear their riches.

and how much he would sacrifice, just for her to sleep in his arms every night.

taglist: @soapisdaddy

sorry that it's so short, and barely anything. i didn't feel inspired. but i still wanted to post at least something, because it was requested🙏 if i get inspired, I'll probably rewrite in another style, not this listing thing yk