#it not only is possible but in fact very quick

[bittsandpieces]

you know how im always talking about not being able to cum without a vibrator? well. that might not be 100% true. as i may have just learned

[sierrale8ne]

nsfw // big freak shit alert! jealous!p, bratty!venus, strap sucking, strap-on sex, spitting, degradation, ass play, toxic!p comes out to play a lil bit, time jump (summer 2025, all-star break)

🏷️ @thaatdigitaldiary @rosemariiaa @xxloveralways14 @pboogerswbb @tndaqlifwy @wbbgetsmewetter @ohbueckers @d3arapril @lovegalor333 @lupinqs @makethemhoesmad @cherryswisherz @bueckersbitch

The feeling of a vacation never really got old for Venus and Paige. The worked nearly year round. Especially this year, it’s been a year since Paige has gotten a break seeing as the end of her college season transitioned seamlessly into her professional season.

As for Venus, she was lucky that the Patriots were, if not the worst, one of the worst teams in the NFL. Meaning that all the media work she was needed for ended in December. But with Paige getting drafted to Dallas, and the Cowboys coincidentally having a vacancy in her position, the second Venus touched down in Dallas meant she was back to work.

So you could assume this break, even if short, was much much needed.

Their cruise vacation had become a bit of a tradition. Once every summer, they found themselves on their adult only cruise indulging in a five days of drinking, relaxation, and sex. How could one forget about the sex.

It was always a great time, but now? Venus would rather be anywhere but this damn ship.

They went down to the deck together, music and a few cocktails enveloping the two in their own little world. Then Paige wanted another drink, so she left for the bar, insisting that Venus sit pretty for her until she got back.

What the tattooed girl didn’t expect was for Paige to be enveloped in conversation with another woman at the bar

It’s all Paige’s fault. Her pro contract came with more deals, more money, and more eyes. More eyes from women who couldn’t seem to get enough of the blonde. The fact that she looked as sexy as possible in her light washed jorts and sleeveless graphic shirt, the blonde of her hair flowing in the caribbean breeze, didn’t fucking help.

She saw red. The way the woman smiled in her face and bit her lip, every few minutes reaching over to touch her girlfriend’s arm. The way she laughed at every little thing Paige said, which was even more aggravating because the blonde was not that fucking funny—

“You come by yourself?”

The voice echos in Venus’s ear, making her turn around slightly to see who’s speaking to her. The older woman is tall, nowhere near as tall as Paige, but tall enough that her head tilts up to see her. Her hair was dark and short and shaggy, just barely falling over her shoulders.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said, are you by yourself?” The woman repeats, leaning downward to project into her ear.

Venus knew better. She knew that if Paige were to turn around, even just for a second, and get a glimpse of her and this woman, she might actually blow a vein. Which made it all the more exciting.

“More like left alone.” Venus responds, very tentatively pushing back her hair over her shoulder. The trail of jewelry cuffed on her ear being put on display.

The woman looks almost astonished. “And who would leave your pretty self all alone?”

That woman in question sat at the bar. Still, waiting for what felt like years for her dirty shirley and Venus’s lemon drop. Her feet were propped up against the ledge of the stool, feet bouncing as she heard the blonde beside her speak flirtatiously to her.

Paige thought she was doing great at keeping the flirting to a minimum. She moved her arm back every few seconds and made sure to break her eye contact before the woman got the wrong idea.

It was when she took a quick peak— just over her shoulder, to make sure her girlfriend was safe where she left her— that she saw it. Venus’s hand on another woman’s shoulder.

She couldn’t fight the smirk on her face, no chance her girlfriend was blatantly flirting with someone else right in front of her.

Normally, while looking at her girlfriend, she would be nearly falling to her knees. Venus was laced in sex appeal, and the outfit she wore right now only enhanced it. The set was black lace, the lack of fabric intentional due to the Caribbean summer heat. The material was thick enough to keep everything held in place, but thin enough to give Paige and whoever else they’d come across a show of every curve and valley of Venus’s body.

But now? She was livid, watching her smile and toss her head back with laughter. How she kept leaning in to whisper in the woman’s ear. Every move was purposeful, like she knew that Paige was watching. Which she was.

Her eyes dart to the bartender, who was passing off that lemon drop she ordered. An idea flashed across Paige’s face as she grasped the plastic cup in her hand.

“You like lemon drops?”

Yeah, two could play at that game.

It was obvious that Paige was now trying to piss her off, that she was lengthening whatever stupid fucking conversation she was having to get on every one of her nerves. Venus was always one step ahead of her, however.

She thought Paige had lost her mind. That there had to be some otherworldly force responsible for her actions, because Paige buying someone else a drink in front of her own eyes was diabolical. Unthinkable even.

So when the woman, who she had now known as Maia, reached for her hand and asked her to dance, she took one glance at her girlfriend and when she saw Paige hand her drink to another woman, she said yes.

Venus dragged Maia across the dance floor, purposefully finding a spot right in front of the bar where, if turned around, Paige would see with her own two eyes what she was up to.

It was a brilliant idea in her own head, one that would serve as the most perfect payback.

Lover/Friend by KAYTRANADA echoes through the speakers, string and strobe lights decorating the deck. Venus is determined. She presses her ass against her, slowly moving to the music.

She loses herself in the music pretty quickly, hips swaying and eyes closing. Maia attempts to keep up, and all Venus can think about is how badly this should be her and Paige right now. How it should be the blonde behind her, gripping her hips and whispering in her ear about how badly she wanted to take her back to their room.

It’s partially the reason why she starts acting out, grinding her hips in a way that makes Maia let out a low whistle into her ear.

They dance through the rest of the song while the woman grips Venus’s waist, the action makes her head shoot up, smile quickly growing when she felt Paige’s eyes on her.

They were a piercing shade of blue, stuck to every inch of her body. Venus’s job was complete. She gave the blonde a smirk, before looking away, grabbing Maia’s hands from her hips to turn around.

“How about you get me a drink?” She teases, tongue darting over her bottom lip. Her eyes ever so enticing and rimmed with black.

“Yeah?” Maia asks with a bite of her lip. It takes every bone in her body to not cringe at it. “What do you want?”

“Vodka cranberry.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She’s walking off to the bar within a matter of seconds, leaving Venus alone to dance to another song. The atmosphere was booming, enough for her to forget that her girlfriend had almost blown a blood vessel with how pissed she had grown. Venus’s phone buzzes in her purse, and she reaches in to grab it almost immediately.

Paige worked fast, because within a matter second she felt arms around her waist, nails digging into her hips with an anger that could only belong to her girlfriend.

And then she felt it.

The feeling of Paige behind her, her front pressed dangerously close to her back, and the strap that was very obviously felt underneath her jeans. Venus nearly scoffs, surprised that she didn’t notice it earlier in the evening.

“We’re leaving.” Paige mumbled into her ear, like the statement is final.

Venus hates that, of course, because she’s her own person. A certain irritation rises within her which blends terribly with the growing arousal between her legs. “But I’m having so much fun. I thought you were too.” She pouts teasingly.

“Venus.” Paige draws her hands back, slighting pushing her girlfriend forward with a hand to the small of her back. “I’m going to our room. You got five minutes to get up there, or i’m fucking you up.”

It took Venus seven minutes.

Which was an absolute no go.

Paige was on her the second the door swung open, gripping her hips and pushing her onto the bed as she avoided meeting their lips. In her mind, Venus didn’t deserve a damn kiss. Not after tonight.

She tugged of her shirt with a vigor, a rip tearing its way through the very center to reveal her bare chest. It wasn’t a surprise that she went braless, If anything Paige should��ve expected it from her.

Venus shot up, her face visibly reddening in a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “Paige!”

“Shut up.” The blonde grunts, reaching for one of the many hair ties on her wrist to pull back her hair. “Ion wanna hear shit from you, just shut up.”

Surprisingly, Venus listened, the tiniest huff escaping her lips. Paige shot her a look before shaking her head. It was hard to decipher what that was about. Maybe she was still heated, or it was the image of her dancing on another woman, or maybe it was that even through it all, Paige thought she was the sexiest woman in the world.

Probably the latter.

Paige was almost immediately reaching under her skirt for her panties, kissing her teeth at just how soaked they were.

“You wanna tell me who you’re this wet for?”

“I thought I was supposed to shut up.”

Paige nods, almost as if Venus got her on that one thing. Her hand pressing closer to the woman’s wet cunt, feeling up her clit through the material of the lace. Venus sucks in a sharp gasp, trying to keep quiet as instructed but also push at that button on Paige’s nerves just a bit more.

Her fingers travel slowly, dipping under her underwear and running through her folds. Paige is barely tactful about it, she doesn’t care about getting Venus off and that’s obvious by the look in her eye. She just wants to make a point. To prove that it’s always going to be her.

“P—ah!” Venus yelps when Paige’s finally pushing them in, rough and fast. Her fingers curl almost instantly, the squelch of her cunt echoing off the walls. She was dripping like a faucet, arousal trailing down Paige’s long fingers.

But it only lasts so long, because Paige pulls them back out. Looking intently at the glisten of her fingers.

“Maia would’ve fucked me by now.” Venus shrugs, effectively putting the nail the coffin.

Paige freezes and a smirk travels to her lips. “You said what?” She asks with dark eyes.

“You heard me.”

That alone is enough for Paige to bring her clean hand to her shorts, licking the other clean before unbuttoning them. “On your knees, V. C’mon.” She instructs.

Venus does as told. Her ass slips down the edge of their bed, she sinks to her knees before her.

She thinks about how good Paige looks like this, jeans undone and boxers on display. Her hair in a messy bun, the pink of her lips, the column of her neck.

She stares at the center of Paige’s boxers, right where the pink of the silicone dildo sits comfortably. Venus grips at the waistband of the jeans, tugging them down her tanned legs, the muscle of her thighs flexing as she steps out of the clothing.

“Get it nice and wet, ma.” Paige bites her lip. Her girlfriend looked like a slut, in every aspect of the word. Venus’s eyes blown wide, slightly watery. Her pierced nipples on display, the blondes’s name sitting nicely above her collarbone in a small cursive.

She grips the strap in her hand, her spit shooting out over the tip. The action nearly makes Paige forget she’s supposed to be mad at her.

Venus’s lips press against the side of it, tongue lolling out of her mouth and back and forth against the shaft. When she finally does take the strap in her mouth, the moan that Paige gives her is almost pleasureful enough.

The silicone stretches Venus’s mouth wide, almost too wide. All seven inches slide down her throat, muffled gags drowning out Paige’s groans. The blonde swore she could feel it, feel the warmth of her tongue and the sucking of her mouth.

“So messy, baby.” Paige hums, “gag on it, jus’ like that.” Her large hand sinks into Venus’s braids, the other cupping her chin to angle her the way she pleased. Then she starts moving her hips.

Angry sex isn’t common between the two, which is odd considering the fact that they argue over the dumbest things every single day. But in Paige’s mind, even if she technically started it, Venus took it too far. So far that Paige wanted nothing more than to fuck her stupid. To make her jaw ache from how rough she would fuck her face, make her legs feel like jelly, make tears fall from her eyes and down her cheeks and apologies spew from her lips while Paige fucked her until she tapped out.

So, the athlete held Venus still while she drew her hips back and forth. Saliva pooled at the corners of her mouth as she attempted to breathe, Paige still kept going.

The tip of the strap hit the back of her throat, making Venus dig her nails into Paige’s thighs.

“Aww you can’t take it? Huh?” She tugs Venus’s hair harder, forcing her head back further to push more of her strap into her mouth. Paige can’t even remember the last time she had her like this— on her knees and breaking apart every ounce of faux dominance into submission. “Y’know I hate bein’ mean to you, baby. But I gotta make sure you learn, yeah?”

Venus pushes at her abdomen in search for air, but Paige pushes it away. Her nose nestled against her girlfriend’s pelvis, nearly every inch of her forced into Venus’s mouth.

Paige finally lets her go, feeling just a tad bit bad about nearly suffocating her girlfriend like that. “Fuck— P.” She murmurs between ragged breaths, a cough or two escaping her chest.

“You gonna be good for me?” Paige asks, bringing Venus to her feet by the arm.

No. Say no.

“Yes, baby.” She breathes, mascara flaking under her eyes. “Promise.”

“Good.” Paige mumbles. It takes everything in her to hold out crashing her lips on hers, especially when they’re all wet and plump, but she’s holds on. “Bend over this bed, I been wantin’ you since I saw this fucking skirt.”

Venus turns around, the material of her skirt still clinging to her hips. She bends over the edge, immediately going on her toes as she arches her back in the way the blonde likes.

“Look at that perfect ass.” Paige says in almost disbelief, “all mine and you wanna grind it on some other bitch.” She sends a harsh slap to it watching the fat giggle in response.

“Paige, fu—ck, please. Fuck me, please.” Venus moans. She wants to push back, to fuck herself on her girlfriends cock like a slut and get what she so badly wanted— not so much deserved, seeing as that was why Paige was so mad at her in the first place.

The athlete grips her ass in her hands, putting Venus’s cunt on display, the wetness the drips through her folds, past her clit, and onto the edge of the bed. “Yeahhhhh, keep begging. Lemme hear it.”

“Please, P.”

“Again.”

“‘M sorry, baby. Please plea—”

Her pleading it cut off by the distracting nature of Paige’s thumb against her ass. The way she circled it and darted from the arousal of her pussy back to her puckered asshole. She was enthralled by it, allowing her spit to fall onto it.

“Nah don’t stop for me. Tell me what you need. Whatchu need so damn bad that you wanted to piss me off like that, ma?” Her voice is cold, deep and raspy in a way that she hasn’t heard in forever.

“Need you inside. Please please, Paige I—fuck please?” Venus begs, silently hoping it’s enough for her to do something other than tease her until she almost cried.

Paige shakes her head from behind, griping the wet strap by the base. She pushes the pink silicone inside fast, the mix of saliva and arousal making the fight nonexistent.

Venus takes it all with ease, a loud pornographic moan escaping her. “Fuck! M’ my God, P.” She cries, fingers immediately gripping at the sheets.

“She just takes it all, huh?” Her thumb followed, breaking inside, all while continuing the motion of her hips. “Fucking slut, you’re a fucking slut, y’know that, V? Actin’ up like I haven’t been fucking you every damn day we’ve been here.”

It was like with each passing second the blonde was getting even more heated, the memory of her girlfriend with another woman turning her almost animalistic.

Venus is falling apart too, every inch hitting her g-spot over and over and over as Paige had learned how to ages ago. And each time she seemed to just get better at it. “Baby! You’re— fuckin’ deep. So deep, shit.”

Her arms stretched in front of her fisting the sheets when Paige bunches up her skirt, pounding into Venus at a speed that could only be attributed to her athleticism and stamina.

Paige looked down to see how she completely covered the silicone in her arousal, the sound of Venus’s ass against her thighs, loud and heavy.

“Had her thinkin’ she would ever get to see you like this. You fuckin’ crazy?” Her statements are almost drowned out by the moans of her girlfriend.

“I’m-I’m cumming, gonna cum! P, please.” Venus whines, reaching back to grip at the hem of Paige’s shirt. “Wanna cum, oh my God!”

“Hold that shit, V. I don’t care.”

Paige is quick to throw her hand off, drawing her hips back and forth, pounding Venus’s fucking life away. She tugs up her shirt, the lust clouding her better judgment that would tell her to throw her shirt off and instead she just tucks it under her chin. She curls her thumb deeper, matching that movement with the thrusts of her strap.

“I’m sorry, I promise!”

“Yeah, I know you’re sorry now, but you weren’t sorry earlier, huh? Tryna give my pussy away, it’s like that?” Paige’s breath is heavy, a mixture of the sex and the alcohol that rushes through her veins. “Shit, this pussy, baby.”

With that, the blonde was pulling out and flipping her over. Venus’s legs fell open almost instantly, a testimony to how fucking badly she needed her again. She was greedy, desperately so. Paige was right, she’d turned her out every single day they’ve been on the cruise but for whatever reason, she wanted more right now.

Her arms wrapped around Paige’s neck as she slid back in, hovering over her.

“You better fucking kiss me.” Venus moans softly, her eyes rolling at the new position.

Paige’s long fingers circled around Venus’s throat, adding to her pleasure as she slightly picked up the pace of her hips. "Take all this shit, you deserve all this dick, mama. Swear." She egged her on as she powerfully fucked her into the bed.

“I can’t!”

“Yeah you can, can take all of it, baby.” She coos, “you think she could’ve fucked you better than me?”

Venus’s eyes snap open, she reaches for anything in her grasp, deciding that the collar of Paige’s shirt would keep her grounded. “No, no, baby.”

“She would’ve made you cum as hard as I’m about to? Ion think so, ma.”

After what felt like decades, Paige finally kissed her with passion, her tongue inside Venus’s mouth as she squeezed at her neck causing her to cum almost on the spot. The kiss silenced the sounds of her cries. Venus scratched at her back through that damned t-shirt.

Her cum coating the pink silicone in a milky white, sticky against not only her own thighs but Paige’s as well.

"Fucking shit." Paige hissed out. "V, fuck." She warned, almost weary. Beads of sweat adorned her forehead, and it was like the second Venus’s high washed over she was forgetting about the source of the argument in the first place.

The athlete’s chest heaved up and down and her mouth was left wide open while she breathed heavily and hotly into Venus’s ear.

“P—”

“—You fucking piss me off, man.” Paige groans flopping down against Venus’s chest. The tattooed girl chuckled, a low and tired one that vibrates again Paige’s head. “Dancing on her is crazy.”

“You gave that blonde headed bitch my drink! Hell, you started it.” Venus heaves, “don’t be mad ‘cause you can’t finish what you started.”

“Shut up!” Paige kisses at her chest, greeting the faded marks from the other nights they’ve been on the cruise. “I fucked you till you cried, I think I finished it.”

“You shut u—”

Venus is cut off with a kiss, a soft one though, much different than the manner Paige just fucked her with. Paige sucks on her tongue drawing all of Venus’s moans into her own mouth. “I love you, okay? And I’m sorry for starting shit. Happy?”

“I guess.”

“Say it back then.”

“I love you too. Dickhead.”

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

When the Rooster Misses the Dawn

So I saw this post from @triassictriserratops and asked if I could have a go at it, since I do enjoy writing some oblivious Gale letting his arrogance where Katniss is concerned lead him into accidental voyeurism. What can I say? I hope you enjoy and this cheers you up a bit, my friend!

RATED M for mild sexual content, accidental voyeurism, and brief mention of miscarriage.

Written in haste and not beta read so all mistakes are mine.

***

There existed only a handful of situations dire enough to wrest Colonel Gale Albert Hawthorne from his duties. Of course, his duties lay so far afield from home that word of the disaster took months to reach him. 

The news first took the form of a letter from his mother. He hardly gave countenance to it. Surely she must be mistaken, he thought as he read the preposterous claims. Katniss engaged to be married? Impossible. She and Gale had an agreement. Nothing official, to Gale’s great chagrin. He had meant to formalize it before he left, but so many other details had captured his attention. Ensuring his family’s security before he left, for one. There was also the matter of that pretty little blonde claiming him as the sire of her brat. 

He couldn’t very well outright propose to Katniss while dealing with that potential catastrophe. It had been costly but well worth it in the end. While the tidy sum and stern words he’d given the girl had hushed her, Gale found himself floundering for the words ample enough to convey his intentions to his true beloved when the time came.

He thought she had understood. No. He was certain Katniss had understood. She had no wish to marry immediately but would welcome a proposal from a good man she could respect, one who could provide her with security and stability, she had told him. Who would help her see Primrose educated and launched into society at the appropriate age. A man who would be a dutiful father to her children and a willing caretaker to her mother, should Mrs. Everdeen live to see her elderly years. Gale had been certain she meant him. Who else could she have meant? 

He had left home, confident that Katniss would wait for him to secure his status in the army. They would marry as soon as he returned home. That was his understanding of the matter. His mother must be mistaken. 

Still, to be certain, he had dispatched a letter to Katniss, laughingly commenting on the preposterous rumors about her marital status. While he waited for her reply, he dispatched his military duties with alacrity, even with enjoyment at times. And if he occasionally spent a small, token amount of his earnings on pleasurable company, no man in his right mind would chastise Gale for the weakness. 

The fact that the number of women whose bed he had warmed numbered too great for him to count did not signify. He consoled himself with the conviction that his knowledge of the carnal delights would only enhance his skill in the marriage bed. Katniss, he was certain, would have no recourse to complain if he could provide her with unparalleled ecstasy as well as a parcel of strong, healthy children.

A second letter from his mother reached him before any reply from Katniss. In this letter, Mrs. Hawthorne delivered the news that it was done. Katniss had been married a sennight previous to the penning of the missive he held in his hand. His mother had been in attendance at what she called a “lovely but rather hasty affair.” A quick calculation revealed to Gale the horrific possibility. The letter had clearly been waylaid. If indeed it were true, his darling Catnip had been wedded and bedded four months prior.

Gale denied it as long as possible. Until three days hence when at last a letter arrived from Katniss herself. No, not a letter. A mere note of five sentences. It too had been mislaid, likely due to the dampness that obscured some of Katniss’s already messy penmanship. Had she been in tears when she wrote this?

My dear friend,

I haven’t the time to give the news more than a few sentences, but indeed it is no jest. I write to you as a married woman and we depart this very morning for my husband’s estate. I have only time to provide you with my new direction. Write to me, Gale. I fear you would not understand our marriage and I could not bear it if it were the reason for the dissolution of our friendship.

Lady Katniss Mellark

Lady! So then, she had married a lord. Gale seethed at the indignation. She must have been induced into marriage for the sake of money. The security and stability she had claimed to desire for herself and her family was to blame. He had known that Katniss and her family existed constantly on the verge of gentile poverty, but had he known the situation to be so dire, he would have offered for her hand much sooner. Far better to be wed and separated for an untold number of months rather than see Katniss sell herself into marriage to a lord. No doubt an old, doddering fool of a lord, at that.

Such injustice! Gale raged for months, convinced of his righteous fury at the indignity Katniss must be suffering at the hands of her revolting spouse. To be forced to play nursemaid to an aging fool, and to then submit herself to his no doubt odious and lecherous advances in the marriage bed. No! It was not to be bourne.

It took days for the Colonel to untangle his affairs, both military and personal, enough for him to request a leave of absence. He wrote to Katniss at her new direction, providing a date she could expect him to visit. The journey required interminable weeks which he spent planning his strategies. How to convince Katniss to escape her horrific marriage, or encourage her to speed her husband’s journey to the grave. He would, of course, lend any assistance she might need in the matter.

At last, he arrived at the estate of Lord Peeta and Lady Katniss Mellark, Earl and Countess of Baecare. As he reined in his steed, his gaze swept the rather humble facade of the manor home. A place so quaint should prove no challenge for him to storm. A mere servant greeted him and as he gave his name, he was informed that Lady Katniss was currently indisposed.

“May I show you to your room? My lady will join you in the parlor after you’ve had a chance to freshen up and settle in your room.”

Gale agreed to the terms of engagement and dismounted. He had little enough in the way of luggage and carried it himself as he followed the maid inside.

The interior of the house impressed him even less than the exterior. He could not be terribly wealthy, this Lord Mellark, Gale thought as he examined the house. So simple and lacking in ostentation. Katniss could not be happy to have sold herself for so little. How exactly was this Lord Mellark meant to support Katniss, her sister, and her mother if he could so ill afford the luxuries of a wealthy home? 

He found his chambers serviceable but unimpressive. He had shared a bed with a courtesan whose chambers put this one to shame in terms of wealth and opulence. This house was no more than a country farm. To think that her husband claimed nobility with this shabby residence!

Gale freshened his appearance, and satisfied that Katniss, although he had never known her to be given to flights of romanticism, might in fact be swept off her feet by his dashing appearance, Gale made his way to the parlor to wait.

A footman offered him a drink and poured a glass of Scotch for him, then left him in silence to contemplate the room. He found more of the same. Serviceable but falling short of his expectations for the home of an earl.

“Forgive my intrusion,” a voice broke Gale’s strategic concentration and he turned about to find a man entering the room, one arm working a gleaming wooden crutch as he limped closer, an affable smile on his face. A young man, dressed in simple but fine clothes. A dark blue coat over an intricately embroidered, pale green waistcoat. His shirt and cravat crisp white and his breeches a soft, almost buttery shade of tan. Despite the man’s obviously deformed leg and limp, he wore gleaming riding boots. 

“You must be Colonel Hawthorne. Welcome to our home. Katniss has spoken so warmly of you that I feel I know you already,” the stranger said and stopped far enough away to execute a polite bow. “Please, allow me to refresh your drink.”

Gale stood there as the stranger claimed his glass and refilled it.

“I hope your journey was swift and untroubled?”

“A little longer than I had hoped, but no challenges I could not handle.” The stranger chuckled and offered the refilled glass to Gale. He accepted it and attempted to puzzle out who this young, cheerful man could possibly be in relation to Katniss. Surely this was not the Lord of the Manor… or perhaps it was.

“Indeed. My lady has spoken at length about how capable her dear friend Gale Hawthorne is in all matters,” the man spoke the words and yet Gale could not absorb them fully. His lady. Of course servants address their mistress with the honorific, but this man did not dress like a servant. Perhaps the lord’s son and heir, then? A cripple, how embarrassing. Perhaps then the aging Lord Mellark had offered comfort and wealth to Katniss in the form of a dowager title in the hopes of producing a different, younger heir…

“Peeta. You are not teasing our guest already, I hope.”

Gale found himself paralyzed at the sound of her voice. Months now he had dreamt of her and her lovely voice. Now to hear it addressing this man, so familiarly, he could hardly bear it. Of course she must act as required. Still, it stung.

The pain only alleviated a little as he turned at last and noticed an unprecedented pallor to her skin. 

“Lady Mellark,” he managed to say as she came forward and clasped his hands, presenting her cheek for him to rest his against. An old family greeting. He could hardly stand to feel the meager brush of her skin against his when he longed to pull her fully into his arms. But then she was gone, removing her hands even from his grasp. “It has been too long.”

“Far too long, and you are a wretched correspondent,” she declared.

“No worse than you,” he retorted and the other man laughed. 

“She does seem to demand far more in words than she is willing to return,” he said. Katniss turned her face enough to scowl slightly at the man, but he seemed unashamed and unaware of her expression. “But no matter. My lady finds her own means of conveying her thoughts.”

The only advantage to her ire was the flush that rose to Katniss’s cheeks, chasing away the frightening pallor. Perhaps then the man was not so oblivious, Gale considered, but had no chance to delve into deeper strategic observations.

“You must forgive my husband, Gale. He believes himself to be an unparalleled wit,” Katniss declared with a saucy lift to her chin. So then this was in fact Lord Mellark. Young and crippled. Not much better a match than old and crippled. Still, perhaps Gale’s plans could still work. He sensed indeed that Katniss would need them to work.

They sat then, and conversed, covering Gale’s journey and the other required topics. All of it quite banal as tea was served and sipped. Katniss ate but one biscuit, a little surprising given how healthy her appetite had always been, at least to Gale’s knowledge.

He hoped for some time alone with Katniss, to pry further into the particulars of their marriage, so that he might fine tune his strategies for extricating her from what was clearly an unfortunate marriage. He became only more convinced of the need to free Katniss from the odious union when she suggested that she show Gale about the estate, and Lord Mellark intervened.

“My dear, the Colonel has ridden a long way on his journey. Perhaps he might prefer rest. Or perhaps a walk in the gardens.”

“I can manage a ride quite well enough. I am used to long days of difficult work,” Gale countermanded, but Katniss demurred.

“No, my husband is quite right. You should rest before dinner. We shall ride out in the morning instead,” she declared, and Gale could not argue without seeming rude. He bowed in acquiescence but rather than accepting their invitation to walk with them both in the gardens, he declined and retired to his chambers.

Yet he did not rest. Instead, he paced his rooms. At one point, he lingered at his window long enough to catch sight of them returning to the house. Katniss’s dress, he noted, seemed to be stained in several places and her hat trailed by the ribbons behind her. Lord Mellark seemed oblivious to her shocking state and even laughed as she gripped the balustrade before slowly making her way into the house.

Manners be damned, Gale was ready to charge to her room when a servant appeared to inform him that dinner would be served in a half hour.

Thwarted, Gale fumed as he dressed for dinner. He silently fumed as Katniss made awkward attempts to draw him into conversation over dinner and ate little again. Was she ill? What had the bastard husband done to her? Gale wondered as he ate what he would otherwise deem an exquisite meal. The table seemed populated with all his favourite foods, a detail that he noted as a plea from Katniss. A silent reminder that this should have been their marriage table. Not Lord Mellark’s.

She retired early, leaving Gale alone to converse with Lord Mellark in the study. He used the opportunity to study the man as best he could. What little he gleaned only further convinced Gale of the man’s unsuitability to act as Katniss’s husband.

A third born son, not even intended for the title, who had lost his entire family in a tragic fire at one of their older estates while he had been away. 

Third born sons, Gale mentally scoffed, so needless and undesired as to inevitably fall into the dissolute lives of gamblers, wastrels, amoral spendthrifts, and seducers of innocent maidens and opera singers. Gale wondered then if Katniss’s clearly declining health were due to the obvious unhappiness of her marriage or to something more sinister. Perhaps Mellark had infected her with some terrible venereal disease!

The idea gave him pause, but no. His love for Katniss transcended such petty matters. He would not punish her for her husband’s cruelty in inflicting such a disease on her. Gale would love her regardless, passionately even, and in every sense of the word. As soon as they were free of her husband.

Even if a venereal disease were not the culprit, Katniss could not be happy saddled with a crippled husband. Gale knew how she disliked dealing with injuries, suffering from queasiness at the mere discussion of her mother’s skills as a healer. Perhaps this was it then! Of course Katniss was constantly ill around her husband. He was permanently injured and she required to face such an injury each time he demanded his marital rights in her bed.

Gale continued to fume and build a case against her husband. When he spotted Katniss fingering a faintly tarnished trinket hanging on a chain around her neck, he formed the theory that Lord Mellark, as a third son, was ill equipped to handle the fortune entrusted to him. Yes, that must be the reason for the modesty of their home, and the gold locket perhaps the only bit of finery left to Katniss that had not yet been sold to pay for her husband’s debts. 

No matter. Gale would shower her with jewels, if she would have them, once they were free of her husband. If she would accept them, of course. Katniss had always hated the pompousness that came with wealth and the ostentation that seemed to flow from every thread of the lives of the wealthy, and even from their pores.

As the days passed, Gale only became more convinced of the need to free Katniss from her marriage. Because despite all the mounting evidence that Lorn Mellark must be the worst sort of husband for Katniss, and that she must be genuinely miserable in her marriage, Gale could not help but like the man.

Damn his eyes! Lord Mellark projected a character so opposite to what Gale knew he must truly be. The devious man made it nearly impossible to hate him. Until Gale recalled the privileges Lord Mellark enjoyed beneath Katniss’s skirts.

He had his strategy prepared, even allowing for the fact that they would need to make haste to retrieve her sister and mother, in order to protect them from Lord Mellark’s wrath and retribution once he realized Gale had spirited away his wife.

Finally, Katniss’s health seemed to improve, and on a night when she declared herself to be famished and then consumed a prodigious amount of food, Gale decided it was time to enact his plan. He suffered through the after dinner pleasantries, although he did fully enjoy the delights of Katniss’s singing. He’d never known her to have such a sweet, melodious singing voice, and he realized that he had never heard her sing before this night. 

Her voice seemed to take wing and soar about the room, and he was awash in emotion, so overcome that he hardly noticed her husband’s clumsy playing of the pianoforte in accompaniment to her song, nor did he countenance the small gesture of Lord Mellark grasping her hand and lifting it to his mouth for a soft kiss after the song had ended.

Katniss shivered in revulsion, and begged leave to retire shortly afterwards. That was all that mattered to Gale. Tonight, he would go to her and declare himself and his intentions. A sneak attack in her chambers, although he fully expected her to fall weeping into his arms in gratitude.

Perhaps not weeping, he amended as he grimaced and dismissed the servant. He packed his belongings then and waited, tracking the moon’s progress across the sky until the hour when he could be certain Lord Mellark slumbered in his bed.

***

Katniss sat at her vanity, brushing her hair. Her eyes fixed unwaveringly on the reflection in the mirror. On the open door behind her that led to her husband’s rooms. She despised this concession to wealth and nobility in their house. She had in fact been meaning to remedy the odious arrangements of their rooms since they first arrived. But the excitement and anticipation of waiting for him each night had provided a thrilling and diverting distraction for far longer than she had expected. And then the baby. The one she had lost.

She nearly began weeping again thinking of the babe, but no. She lifted her chin and forced herself to appear serene. It would not do to have Peeta see her in tears. He had been delaying this night far longer than she desired, far longer than the doctor had recommended, at first out of concern for her health, and then out of concern for her broken heart.

Tonight, she would wait no more. Peeta would return to her bed or she would march to his room and seduce him. But he would not ignore her summons. Of that she was certain. She had sent him a note. His precious words he always begged from her lips, although he wielded them far better than she ever hoped to do.

Come to my bed, husband, or suffer my wrath come the morning. Love me again.

With all my heart, body, and soul,

Katniss

Perhaps a bit pathetic, but she was desperate. Having Gale in the house only increased her frustration since Peeta seemed overly conscious of setting her childhood friend at ease. He had barely touched her this past fortnight and she was half starved and out of her mind with need for all the small intimacies she’d grown accustomed to receiving from him. That was why she’d nearly combusted and simultaneously melted into a puddle at his feet when he kissed her hand after she sang tonight.

Damn him and his sense of hospitality. She would have him tonight and have him fully. If she moaned loud enough to bring the rafters down on Gale’s head in the guest room down the hall, then so be it.

At last, she saw him filling the doorway, leaning against the frame as he gazed on her, a familiar and achingly welcome heat and longing burning in his blue eyes. She controlled her breathing as best she could, but her heart she could not command. It raced with excitement. With love.

It had taken her far too long to admit it to herself, but once she had, her heart seemed intent on making up for her slow awareness of her emotions, inundating her entire being with passion and love for this man. Even now after months of marriage, she yearned for him.

“You commanded my presence, my lady,” he murmured and Katniss shivered again, this time at the dark intimacy in his voice. The velvety promise in his tone. Her knees shook as she stood and she strode across the room, uncertain she would make it to the bed before she collapsed.

“And you were wise to heed my command, my lord.”

He smiled at her sassy retort and met her there, beside the bed. She stared at his chest, both of them breathing heavily, the air pulsing with anticipation. He leaned his crutch against the bed and cupped her cheeks in his warm, broad palms. She leaned into his touch letting his familiar, beloved scent wash over her.

“Katniss, my love,” he murmured, sounding almost in pain. It satisfied her to know he had felt the denial of their love as deeply as she had. It soothed her irritation at him enough to spur her into action. Katniss lifted her face to his, and rose onto her toes, opening her eyes only for a moment, so that she might see the hungry expression in his blue eyes before their lips met.

***

Gale paused outside the door and smiled to himself. His silent tread, developed through years of hunting beside his father -- a gamesman to a lord -- and then through years as a soldier, had come in useful tonight. He had arrived at Katniss’s chamber door undetected. He pressed his ear to the closed panel. No sounds within, but just as he reached for the door handle, a loud clatter sounded inside followed by a swift curse in a man’s voice and a feminine giggle.

A giggle?

Never in his life had Gale known Katniss to giggle. He pressed his ear more firmly to the seam between the double doors and listened. Silence again. Still, he waited. He could be patient. His quarry lay within and he would not be denied victory this night.

When the clock down the hall began to strike the hour, he used the sound to mask his knock. A mere light rap. Likely not enough to wake Katniss, but he must try the polite approach before he intruded. He reached again for the door handle, but when he pushed down, nothing happened. 

Locked!

Steeling himself, he curled his hand into a fist and prepared to knock again. A little louder this time, he thought, but then a new sound reached his ears. It sounded… yes it sounded like moaning. Was Katniss injured? He tried the handle again to no avail and dropped to his knees. He felt a little foolish using the keyhole to spy on his beloved, but he had little choice. He needed to ascertain the situation before he charged within.

With his ear to the opening, he could hear much more clearly. Katniss was indeed moaning, a desperate and inconsolate sound. But just as he prepared to stand, intending to kick down the door and storm inside, coherent words reached his ear.

“Peeta, my love! Oh!”

Gale froze. The sounds morphed and penetrated his brain at last as Katniss’s moans grew in intensity.

Colonel Gale Albert Hawthorne had warmed the beds of many women. Too numerous to count, in fact. And as he knelt before the locked bedchamber door of his beloved Katniss, the sounds within finally coalesced into something truly horrific. His brain knew that it was time for a strategic retreat as he listened to Katniss moan and whimper in ecstasy. But his body would not obey his commands. All he could manage was to turn his head and peer through the keyhole. To spy upon his love and watch in horror as she threw her head back on her pillows, her bosom heaving beneath her askew nightshift and her hands grasping at a head of blonde hair moving between her thighs. At a pair of pale, bare shoulders as he pleasured her with his mouth. The wooden crutch discarded on the floor would reveal her lover’s identity even if the sound of his name falling in sighs off her lips did not.

“Ung! Peeta, please,” she whimpered and writhed and then gasped as her body convulsed.

Still, Gale could not walk away. Not while Katniss smiled and hummed and petted his hair in the aftermath of her passion. Not while he could clearly hear the wet sounds of Lord Mellark dutifully worshipping between his wife’s thighs. Not when Katniss’s breathing evened out and she released a content thigh, opening her eyes as Lord Mellark rose up above her, and her smile widened.

“Now… now I steal your words, husband of mine,” she said and placed one hand on her husband’s chest, deftly pushing him over onto his back. She followed him, straddling his thighs and Gale nearly vomited as he caught sight of Lord Mellark’s disgustingly pleased and clearly besotted face as he gazed up at Katniss.

When she reached for her shift and began to lift it off her body, Gale finally broke himself free of the spell and stood. He stood there, blind but unfortunately not deaf as he stared at the door and attempted to refigure everything he had seen during his visit in this house.

And when the sounds of mutual pleasure within grew too loud to bear, Gale finally forced his feet to obey. He walked away, back to his rooms, his tread disconcertingly loud, but it mattered not. Who could possibly hear his retreat that mattered when his beloved Katniss wailed and sang her pleasure with such unmatched enthusiasm and volume?

[fangdokja]

Woahhh. Your page is very pretty! Very aesthetically pleasing. That must have taken a lot of energy and effort.

Your writing is also soo mind stimulating. I'm flabbergasted 💕.

Your blog deserves to look as good as your writing—here's how to do it.

❤︎ Synopsis. Discover quick and easy tips to elevate your Tumblr blog and fic aesthetics with cohesive designs, color coding, and formatting tricks—consider this your warm-up for the ultimate design guide!

♡ Book. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Word Count. 2,237

♡ Series. The Aesthetic Tumblr Blog Starter Pack - Part 1

♡ Banner's Story. Trust no one. Not even yourself.

♡ A/N. Actually, it's "casual"; but it's full of tutorials on how to achieve stuff like the picture below (and more), especially when designing your blog and fics. I only called it casual because it's not really formally organized like my usual. I literally typed all of this while I'm in a meeting, haha. Anyways, I'll show you how I design my blog and content.

designs + gradient texts + banner images like this: I love my Daddy Dom husband.

OK! START!

Aw, thank you, Anon. That’s the first time someone has commented about the aesthetics on the page. Thank you :)) And, yeahhh. Bro. You have no idea. Of course, the page didn’t always look like that.

I’m also glad you love the writing. I’m curious about which one’s your favorite so far, or what stories you like haha. It’s always interesting to see what content attracts people in general, just plain curious. But no pressure in answering though, just have fun and relax here. That’s all I want for you, Readers. Yes, even if it’s the erotic horror books and stories haha.

Glad to have flabbergasted you. Haha. Now! Story time! Since, I always like to reply as comprehensive as possible to each of your efforts in commenting, reblogging, or even just reading. I’m extremely thankful for the support :))

Actually, even the older stories in “A Heart Devoured” looked different aesthetically before. I experimented with a lot of things in this blog, even aesthetically.

Force of habit, but when I really enjoy something, I get into it full force. I’m usually lazy and such haha. But I can write like 7+ hours without breaks at all. Yes, even food and sleep. Would not recommend though.

My husband takes care of me usually. When I get “hyper focused”, I really have this mental space to just keep writing (or working in general). As long as I have fun, I can really commit to it whatever time of day. Though… of course, when adrenaline runs out, I get really tired after. But nothing that can’t be fixed.

Anyways. Back to the topic at hand.

Tumblr blog recommendations. If you want to start your own blog in general.

Based on general research and experience (e.g. searching top fanfics or posts), it solidifies that Tumblr really is heavy on visual content. It’s why art and short form, easily consumed, content does better here.

Usually, fanfics not as much. Again. My mindset (and the truth) is that Tumblr is a very VISUAL platform.

So, I made the effort to create pictures, and see in both in the phone and laptop on how it looks. Phone especially, since most users scroll on mobile. Convenient and easily accessible.

Anyways. I guess “business mindset”? I don’t know. Weird.

But, I always look at statistics, especially before. It’s something measurable and to see if there's more I can improve on in general. Aside from the fact people LOVE smut, and anything sex in Tumblr.

Until now, unfortunately, I don't know what post will blow up or not. To be completely honest. It's like sometimes I think this work is shiz (e.g. the recent Yandere! Nerd story), and that's doing extremely well. I'm shocked. Other times, stories that I think would do well didn't do as well in terms of stats.

So, honestly, I don't know how the system works. I'm still learning the ropes as well. Technically I know how it goes about, but on what content actually does well?

Well, even word count sometimes doesn't come into play. The Yandere! Ex-boyfriend story (could also low key because Gojo-like personality? idk)? That had a higher word count than average posts, at 9k words! But that story also did extremely well. That wasn't even a smut fanfic! I've posted drabbles and even 1k-2k (or even average 4k-5k) words stories and works that performed less than that.

In Tumblr, it's recommended to post shorter fics. The average for smut fics for instance is around 5k words, for example.

BUT. For some ODD reason. When it comes to my audience, you supportive Readers, it's like longer fics work better for you all jsfklfsdk. So, that's that...

At first, it would be good to experiment with anything from aesthetics to word count, beyond just your writing style and story content. That's what I did. Anything under the sun that I enjoyed, and by looking at top posts and seeing what they did.

I got a lot of aesthetic ideas from JJK smut fics. I don't read those haha. But my current formatting for fics? Those ideas were adapted from JJK smut fics, like this:

Do you want to know what's ironic? I don't read smut fics at all, like even back then. I tried it before, but the brain dead stuff wasn't working for me. If I were to read sex, it can't be the main point. Like my current writing style, there has to be plot, usually yandere non-con in general helped. Of course, never encountered a yandere author (or can't find any yet) that actually willingly kills the Reader or MC. It's due to circumstances or stresses at most, but never voluntary. No actual danger. Oh well. Rambled.

See the similarities in aesthetics for my work? It's pretty obvious, yeah? haha

These are the following similarities:

ALWAYS have a Banner image. Think of this like the cover page of your book, it has to be eye-catching and tell Readers a vibe of what's in the story. The rest of the design and text has to be color-coded with the banner image to create synergy and cohesiveness in design. Symmetry or concepts related to it makes your work appear neat. Yes, you have to consider this to add to your professionalism when presenting to your Readers.

ALWAYS have a Hook Statement. This isn't necessarily your fic's title, it's a single statement usually, concise and meant to incite interest among readers. Think of it like the first 3-5 seconds of a TikTok video or short-form videos. These hooks are meant to capture your interest straight away or you'll just scroll past.

ALWAYS have a Synopsis or summary of your content. This is especially needed for longer works or prose that are in traditional narrative forms. Gives a taste to the readers, so they know what they're getting into or before they commit.

ALWAYS have a Word Count. So your readers know what they're getting into. People are busy and have their own lives, some want to have a quick read of serotonin. Others are in a relaxed state and can afford to read long works. So, don't worry, your works will attract its readers naturally. Just be consistent in writing and posting. That's key. Show up even if you don't want to, if you really are committed to your blog and work.

ALWAYS have Trigger Warnings. As a Dead Dove author, it's a requirement for me to do so, especially for explicit works. It's not a weakness, it's respect to your readers. Also, it will help drive away people who get turned off or triggered by certain works. Don't make your life harder later, just be transparent now, so people don't annoy or send hate mail to you.

ALWAYS have a Divider. This was made by me, like majority of my graphic design works for my fics. This divider is simply to make your work more neat as well, and to VISUALLY show what people are getting into. It can both advertise your name, and also warn Readers if they don't read trigger warnings. Yes, some people don't bother with the details.

ALWAYS have "Ads". Yes, I technically advertise my other works. How? Through connecting the Masterlist link, the book where the work they're reading is located in. If they want to read more, they can read more "here". It's the equivalent of how social media recommends content that you may like. Look at the examples below, it's like that.

In these ASKS, I also link my works when casually chatting. And it works. Why do I ramble and do these Asks? It's not just to create a sense of community, but also to "advertise" my works. Look at this example ask.

The person talked about Paternal Privilege and commented on it, saying how the yandere is like this character from Love and Deepspace. So people who are interested in the game or have not heard about my work yet (like if you're a new reader and haven't read my old works), they can check out my work. See? I linked my work at the end. Yes, in each masterlist, I even "advertise". Can be annoying to others, but it does help spread awareness about my works in general. Every piece of interaction is cherished and crucial in building your audience.

This is an example of how what usual formatting looks like:

I also put author notes just for fun. This one isn't really a recommendation, but just for personal preferences. To communicate with readers about my writing processes and other matters or updates. But, again, it's just a personal thing.

Now, how do I make this? CANVA. This is how part of my workspace in Canva looks like:

Actually, for me, it's still kind of messy. I haven't fixed a lot of things yet for my work since I'm also busy. But this is a general idea.

I've been using Canva for years, even before it blew up. When it first came out, I've been using it already, so I've gotten a lot of practice with it. Though, I do use Canvas Teams; because I also use Canva for work, so a lot of features are available already to help me.

While working on my blog, I never considered myself a graphic designer even before my blog. But, to be honest, I ate my words again. My husband already said before I am also a graphic designer, not just an artist, so.... yeah.... I generally improved a lot more as well because I'm constantly churning out new content. Basically even if I think it's shiz, I still continue, post, work. Same concept with fics. Just keep working, even if you don't see it, with each work (even if it's unfinished), you're improving.

If you notice, I have 3 different covers for "World Ablaze." I had to repeat the finished product 3 times, because the cover was shiz compared to the others. And these weren't drafts. But, hey, got to use the other covers for my posts.

For Tumblr posts in general, I just pick two sizes and upscale it for higher image quality:

Tumblr Banner

Wattpad Book Cover

For the divider, it's 1350 x 80 px.

For my usual formatting in Tumblr banners, I usually go for this formatting. I just use grids on a new project:

And then choose the 4 picture grids, before looking at Pinterest and getting pictures.

I ALWAYS add filters, and upscale the image:

And, for texts, I just pick, usually gothic texts since it's my personal fav. I just substitute already preset design texts usually, just changing the actual text.

Like if you see "Recently Used", I just press the given text and place my title. Then, I do edit the "text effects" usually; mostly Neon so it pops out the title, since people usually use phones with smaller texts.

Just with those steps, I'm able to make covers like this:

♡ Ink & Insight. The writer's essential to fictional writing, no matter what genre you may be in. Though, if you're a dark content writer, then you're in for a treat.

And, for color coding texts. I use these two sites:

The uiGradients is for getting easy color codes to paste the code in the Fiddle. Then just paste the generated HTML code in your Tumblr post.

For the Fiddle, paste the color codes in the corresponding HTML line 3 and 4, where it says "first" and "last".

I picked a red color from uiGradients:

Then I paste it here:

Then, place your text or whatever title you want here:

Press run, and copy the text generated.

Then go to your Tumblr Post:

Change the "Text Editor" into HTML:

Switch to the HTML tab, then copy your text from the Fiddle:

It's supposed to be long, and that's fine. It's because of the gradient code required in the text:

Final Output looks like this:

I love my Daddy Dom husband.

Hope that was an easy tutorial to follow, haha.

Anyways.

Hope this post helps people! Whether you're a writing blog or another kind of blog, I hope these tips will help you! :))

P.S. As I'm writing this, I just realized something. I'm actually in a lecture for Brand Positioning. And, it actually fits well with this topic, haha. Is it obvious I come from business? hahahahah. Also I just realized, I have a lot to say on this topic.... huh.

[ohnococo]

Just A Moment | Sub!Gojo x Dom!Reader

Good days, bad days, whatever it is, Satoru comes to you often. When he does he’s always a little cocky, challenging you, begging you with long lashes lowered and pouty pink lips to tame him, if you dare. You did dare, because it was what he wanted, and was what he needed. It was what you wanted too, because as mouthy as he could be, he was just as sweet when you finally wrangled him into submission.

When Satoru bypasses all of that and comes to you like this, though? You know he’s had a terrible, awful day. It almost makes you feel bad for him, when the very first thing he does after you’ve invited him inside is get on his knees in front of you, face rubbing against your leg as he whines pathetically. It tells you that tonight will be one of the rare occasions where he does intend to at least try to behave. It tells you he’s here because he needs you more than ever, not to break him, because something else already has, but to build him back up.

❥ WC: 2.3k

❥ Warnings: Gender neutral reader, established relationship, master/pet, dom/sub, porn without plot, light degradation (floor licking), sex toy, fellatio on sex toy, whining, begging, throat fucking, hand job, cum shot, only gojo receiving

“Satoru?”

He shakes his head, rubbing his nose against your thigh so firmly his mask slips out of place. When he tugs it down, letting it rest around his neck, it’s your last needed signal for what he’s asking for.

“Puppy?”

His face leaves the fabric of your pants now, as he tilts his head up to look at you with tired eyes, possibly the furthest you’d ever seen them from the alert and glinting glory you were accustomed to.

“What’s wrong?”

“I haven’t been very good.”

“Really?”

He closes his eyes, lower lip quivering, dipping his head to press to your thigh as his shoulders slump.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

The fact that he snaps to attention, eyes quick to meet yours in a bid for approval from even the smallest of actions, is the final indication you need that he really needs the work tonight just as you’d thought. It’s not often Satoru follows your orders so well from the moment he enters your home.

“Want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head.

“If I don’t know what you’ve done, the severity of your punishment is at my discretion. You know that.”

He nods again, still silent as he waits for you to speak. You allow him his privacy as you move on. You know there are parts of Satoru you don’t have access to, you accept that. You also know just how rarely he even brings mention of his outside life into your home. The punishments and rewards he receives are from behaviour within these walls alone, or behaviours in relation to tasks you’ve assigned him when in the privacy of his own home. If it’s punishment he’s requesting rather than revelling in earning it though…

You hook your fingers in Satoru’s mouth, pushing down until he’s forced to press his chin to the ground with his ass in the air.

“You come here, telling me you’ve been a bad boy, demanding I punish you like it’s just that easy?”

You pull your fingers from his mouth, sitting up and peering down at him, just in case he got his bite back enough to respond. He doesn’t move a muscle, and instead of words he just whines and arches his back.

“I still count those pathetic little noises as backtalk, you know.”

He whines again, seemingly involuntarily, before he’s pressing his face to the ground to muffle his apologies, snapping his head back to the side once he remembers his earlier instruction to look at you—the strain of such a task from this angle be damned.

“Take your clothes off.”

He does, right away, making light work of undressing despite the difficulty in doing so while keeping his cheek pressed firmly to the ground. It only leaves the floor for a moment, hovering inches away as he quickly pulls his top over his head, before it’s back down as he pushes his pants over his hips and wriggles them off. All that remains is his mask, hanging around his neck.

You’re pleased to find him hard already, pretty pink tip glistening with all of the precum gathering just to slowly drip down and onto your hardwood floors.

“Leaking on my floor like that? Really, Puppy?”

He whines out his apologies yet again, biting at his lip to keep from crossing the line he was so used to trampling over.

You sigh, squatting down next to him and running your hand up his back, pale skin already covered in goosebumps in anticipation of your touch. Once you reach his shoulders, then his neck, you grip at the back of his mask, twisting it once to tighten it enough to tug at firmly and force him to crawl backwards until he’s face to face with the small sticky droplet his cock had left behind.

“Lick it up.”

It’s something he does gladly, without hesitation, leaving you beaming with pride and thinking of praises you weren’t yet ready to give. Instead you stroke his back gently, fingertips tracing down his spine until he’s arching beautifully for you. He presses his cheek to the ground, precum now replaced with his saliva, and angles his hips so his ass is in the air, giving you a clear view of the pretty pink hole he so loves to have you claim. It’s sweet, and so very desperate with play having only just started, but it’s also far too presumptuous for tonight.

You twist the mask around his neck again, pulling it until he’s forced to sit back on his haunches. “You haven’t done nearly enough to be begging like that. For that, I don’t think I’ll be touching your ass at all tonight.”

“I wasn’t-“

You twist the mask once more, tightening it further around his neck and keeping his posture pin straight. “You were.”

He knows how to turn it on, eyes big and sad, lips pouting, even when the tight squeeze of his mask makes his cock jump every time you pull it a little harder. It’s a lot for him already, it always is when he’s like this, and his words have already left his mind, so instead he whines again.

You give Satoru a disappointed sigh, shaking your head, “Do I need to shut you up, Puppy? Give your mouth something to do instead of whine?”

His cheeks are stained a deep shade of pink as he looks up at you through thick lashes, knowing you’d degrade him the whole way through, but knowing he needs it nonetheless. He’s a sort of good boy in that way, always adapting to whatever you decide is best for him.

“Sit pretty for me, then.”

You release his mask and his response is immediate. Back straight, elbows tucked close to his sides, and hands settled gently on his thighs as he kneels. It presents his lithe torso perfectly as he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue. He knows to stay where he’s been put as you leave the room, taking your time rifling through your box of toys—marked by a little SG on the corner.

You know which one you’re going for, you knew from the moment you saw how pretty and pink and chewed up his soft lips were. He had big worries, and you had something bigger. A shade as pretty as his lips, as his hole, as soft and flexible as his body. It’s cute in its own way, but also intimidatingly large. It’s what he needed though, and as you pull the dildo from its protective bag, you’re all too happy to provide.

By the time you’re walking back into the room, Satoru has made another mess. More precum glistens on the floor before him, and a small stream of drool falls from the underside of his tongue, over his lower lip, and down his chin. When he locks eyes on the toy of your choosing, his fingers twitch—betraying his excitement.

You raise the toy to his mouth, rubbing the head against his tongue, spreading his own spit over his lips, before withdrawing it to give your next order.

“Back.”

He leans his head back, sticking his tongue out further, and his cock twitches as you spit right into his mouth. It’s all the warning he’s given before you’ve got the pretty pink dildo sliding into his mouth, and he knows what you expect of him as he wraps his lips around it, sucking with his eyes locked on yours. You give him a nod, and a small curt ’mmhm’ prompting him to rise further on his knees, allowing him to take more of the silicone in his mouth, til it just taps at his throat, before he’s pulling back.

His fingertips press into his bare thighs as he moves up and down, taking the dildo deeper and deeper past his throat—putting on a pretty show for you as he makes his way to the base with each movement. His eyes watch you, lashes fluttering every time the thick head breaches his throat, and his brows twitch upward as he grows more and more desperate from just the small pleased hums you give him. With his cheeks red, and drool coating his chin, he lets out a whine before breathing deep before he leans up as far as he can and takes the toy all the way to the base.

To your amusement, he stays there for a moment, letting tears start to form in his eyes, before he nuzzles at your knuckles, firmly gripping the silicone cock buried in his throat. It makes you laugh, as your Puppy always manages to, and you lean down to offer him the small reward of your hand—loosely gripping his cock as you nod your permission to fuck up into it.

He pulls back as he thrusts into your grasp, allowing himself to gasp and moan at the feel of your palm. There’s no hesitation though, as there usually would be—no fucking your hand and forgetting that it is you’ve told him to do. No, Satoru is right back to work, fucking his throat on your toy, and with enough enthusiasm for you to reward him by tightening your grasp on him ever so slightly.

Choked moans escaping before they’re cut off by the loss of air, rolling blue eyes straining to focus on your appraising gaze above, and a pretty pink tip drooling just as much as his mouth as he sucks off your throat-warmed silicone—your Satoru performs and performs well.

It almost activates that mean streak in you, the one used to giving him actual punishment rather than tasks disguised as such, as you have tonight. Looking at him so subservient before you has the back of your neck tingling, your ego beckoning you to make him cry. Real tears, not just ones from having his throat bruised and battered with his enthusiastic sucking. But you’re nothing if not careful with your toys, especially ones as special as Satoru Gojo, so you only allow yourself to satiate your desires a little.

He expects it, welcomes it even, as you begin to jerk him off. It’s rough and fast, and he knows very well that you aren’t getting him so close to orgasm just to let him actually cum right away, but he does what he must and rides that wave. His thrusts are half-hearted, unable to keep up with the speed of your hand and his duty to gag on the toy before him at the same time, and his stomach twitches and lurches until you’re shoving the toy deep just as he clenches his thighs together in that tell-tale sign his balls are tightening.

So you let go, and hold the toy deep—stifling the moans and whines that would certainly result from having his orgasm ripped away from him like that. You hold it there, nestled deep, allowing him to thrust his leaking cock roughly into the air, watching as his brows furrow and quirk while his throat tenses and constricts as he tries his hardest to moan - but finds no air for such a thing. Tears are streaming down his cheeks, hips bucking so hard his cock slaps uselessly against his own stomach and his hands ball up into fists, eyes rolling back. Then you pull the dildo out of his mouth and take in his gasps and coughs and cries out for more.

“Please please please, I need it. I need it so bad…”

“Need what, Puppy?”

He bites his lip, cock throbbing, voice hoarse as he knows what his real answer is, and what the right answer is. His mind battles with itself a moment too long for your liking, then broadcasts the wrong decision as he just whines and humps the air.

You wipe at his tears, bringing the dildo back to his swollen lips. “I’ll give you a little more time to think then.”

His mistake has been made, because you forced him into it for just this once tonight, so he accepts it and opens his mouth wide, letting you slide the length of his faux-punishment back into place. It’s worked though, and you continue to fuck some obedience into his skilled throat as he takes it willingly, sliding his tongue along the underside of the unfeeling silicone, puckering his pretty lips into a kiss at the tip when you pull it out far enough just to shove it back in to the base.

“Good boy.”

His cock jumps hard enough to tap at his twitching stomach as he leans upwards as far as he can while staying on his knees, bringing his mouth to meet your movements and gag himself shamelessly. You reward him just as you had before, though with the intention of letting him have what he needs.

He practically shoves himself into your hand once he receives the first brush of your warm fingertips. The feel of you pumping him suddenly is so appreciated, and you grip him tightly with your long strokes to give him exactly what he’s earned. There’s no rebuilding the moment lost by the previous pause, as he’s sent right back to where he was quickly enough that his eyes rolling are the only sign you’re given before his cum spills across your floors as he bucks into your grasp.

Satoru can be relentless, so you brace yourself for more, but once he slumps down enough to separate his throat from the toy you remove it the rest of the way and allow him to choke out a sob. He moves just enough to fall forward and press his face flat to your stomach, showing you he’s done for with just that. His shoulders relax, though his breath is still shaky, and you feel the wetness from his tightly shut eyes soaking through the fabric of your shirt. You let him have his moment, slack jawed, cooing softly, shivering at the feel of your hands running through his hair.

There’s no urgency now, the moment will last as long as he needs it to, thanks to you.

banners by @adornedwithlight

[authoratmidnight]

So, now that I've finished watching (rewatching technically) Transformers Animated I wanna babble about it a bit.

My short, spoiler free take is: It's actually really good and I like what they were doing in this universe.

Longer, not spoiler free rambles under the cut-

So like, I did watch this a long time ago, when it first aired. Problem is I really don't/didn't remember like, anything? Or like, major plot things.

A non comprehensive list of things I /did/ remember from Animated:

Prowl was my fav bc b/c a ninja motor bike is cool

I loved this version of Bumblebee. His design looked like a lil kitty cat, a lil tiger, one of my fav Bees. Just a lil guy. Lil baby.

Black Arachnia, her hitting on Optimus and once being Elita One

the Dinobots, Grimlock specifically. love me some dino robots

the 'Sari is the a robot' reveal

their space ship transforms into a massive robot

Blurr gets cubed and everyone debating on if he was alive or not (he is. as pointed out, bots turn grey here when they die and cube!Blurr was NOT grey, so that's some fridge horror for you)

Prowl died and I was VERY sad about this

Weird Al voiced a robot called Wreck Gar and there was a 'dare to be stupid' reference in the episode

So like, while I don't remember-remember it, I remember things from it and I seem to recall I did enjoy it (given I recall Prowl's death I clearly DID watch it to the end so I clearly didn't hate it). And upon rewatching it I can 100% this appealing to younger me (quick math says I would have been, about 16 when it aired. which is older than I thought tbh).

It wasn't my first foray into Transformers either, tho I think the first one I probably really enjoyed and watched all of. I seem to recall watching some of Beast Wars and Armada (legit the ONLY part of Armada I remember was that bit where Optimus died out in space lmao), so I knew OF Transformers to some degree. Plus I think I'd learned surface level information from my dad. But it was the first series I did fully consume and enjoyed. So I could have done worse. But given I don't actually remember my first watch of it too well I can't say if it was better or as good as I remember b/c I don't remember lol. But it is good.

That said, what ARE my thoughts on it?

The Story/Setting:

Knowing what I DO know about Transformers now I can see how different it is from most continuities and how the lore differs (Prime and Magnus just seem to be like, ranks/titles, and Prime doesn't seem to hold nearly the weight as in like every other continuity). But like, I don't hate it. It's actually kind of a fresh change. And it does some unique things, like how characters can just be, taken apart and still live so long as their spark remains undamaged/their body isn't to badly damaged (we literally have heads getting popped off like barbie dolls and everyone is fine lol).

It manages to flop between goofy as fuck and, actually a bit grim at times, and it works (once again, solidifying my belief that Transformers is and always has been, funny as shit and people who poo-poo on the humor are boring edgelords)

I kinda fuck with this universe actually, wish we HAD gotten that s4.

And the changes it makes to the CHARACTERS to fit with the universe is neat too and it, kinda works.

The Characters:

So like, this version of Optimus (and the main core cast of Autobots really) is like, just A Guy. Like, the most Just a Guy that Optimus could possibly be. He's not this war weary, battle hardened warrior and great renowned leader. He is literally just A Guy. The equivalent of a college drop out. And the meeting with Megatron at the start of the series is literally their first meeting. No history here.

And I think that's kind of an interesting take. (Also I found a really funny fic the other day that's basically 'Megatron realizes that the 'elite warriors' they've been fighting are in fact just Some Guys and the revelation is MORTIFYING' i'll link it later).

Prowl. I'm sorry but this my guy. This is my Prowl. I know he is totally different than like every other Prowl in existence but UNFORTUNATELY this was my introduction tot he character and the robo ninja that turns into a bike imprinted on teenage me's psyche b/c honestly that concept fucks. He's my favourite and I was super sad when he died.

Also just 'robot ninja' is fucking cool haha

I loved this Bumblebee's design, it slaps. He's like a lil kitty man. He's so much fun. Yapped so much that when they made the movies they're like 'ok we NEED to shut this guy up' haha.

I think I totally forgot Bulkhead was in Animated but like, I love this dude??? Don't get me wrong I like Prime Bulkhead as well but Animated Bulkhead just, is so fun, and they did MORE with him aside from 'smashes shit real good'. He gets to have a special interest and be good at ONE (1) thing and that's space bridges. And he picks up art as a hobby! He has character and personality, I love it.

Honestly, the Autobots just being a bunch of regular guys (well, 4 regular guys and one war vet who REALLY wishes he'd retired long ago) is such a fun dynamic to have instead. And it works.

The Voices:

So like, I know Peter Cullen is THE voice of Optimus (despite the fact that I think more people that aren't him have voiced the character than he has but I digress) but in this case, NOT casting him actually makes sense. As I said, Optimus here is just A Guy. And a young one as well. Like Orion in Transformers One. So the deep, older sounding voice of OP Optimus wouldn't fit the character. And this voice does.

I DO however find it really funny that the voice actor for Optimus (David Kaye) previously voiced Megatron in other Transformers series. Man could voice a whole Optimus-Megatron fight on his own now.

Honestly, all the voice choices fit the characters as established in this series.

Special mention to Shockwave, who apparently is voiced by his OG VOICE ACTOR. That's kinda dope. And he has a perfectly spooky voice (also I really enjoyed this version of Shockwave. Man is out here being Megatron's specialist little boy and loving it)

Also I love that the opening is just a remix/modernized version of the OP opening that we all know. That's cool and it slaps.

Yeah, TFA does aim a biiiit younger for it's audience than some series but that's not a bad thing and it's still a damn good show. It's not like "kiddy" in that patronizing way. It's good and it holds up well I think.

Also here's that fic I mentioned earlier, go read it it's funny.

Revelations

[indulgentnine]

Going back to her work to leave Gritt to relax the rest of the night, Velvette herself had a long night ahead of her. Rearranging the schedule and tending to a few upset clients was nothing new for her, not even a setback once she had it all sorted. At least one she had to worry about anymore.

When it came morning, she was already in the studio leaning over one of the tables with various designs laid out across a few projects she was working on that season. Amidst them just some colorless designs for the first stage of potential outfits.

As the door of the studio was knocked on, a staff member opened it while there were a few about tending to some early morning work. Velvette was seen still at the table, picking up one of the designs while she heard Gritt’s greeting. Her attire and outfit had changed, so it looked at least like she may have rested, too, or merely freshened up between the time.

“Here on time with no lollygagging, that’s good,” Velvette brought up, though there was fatigue in her voice while she looked from Gritt to this bodyguard of his. With a squint, she did begin to recognize him, though held a smile. “Thought I knew you,” she brings up while she had gone through some of Gritt’s socials to spot the bodyguard in some of the photos and videos.

“Well, familiar looking, think I saw you around the tower at some point or another,” she brings up casually, eyeing Shi carefully. That was someone she certainly would keep track of, but she let her attention slide back over to Gritt. “I have some design workups, but we can go over them for your own preferences and we still have to work on fabrics and colors.”

With that, she showed the paper of one of the rough designs that very much fit her own type of attire, possibly too much so. Alterations would come with time, but the fact the designs were already being worked up was quick progress on only the next day.

As Velvette left, Gritt watched the door close behind her, and them flopped back on the bed with a sigh. He really did attract attention from the highest of places didn't he.

"Long as I don't sign nothing without Opal... I'm fine." Gritt reassured himself, tail idly flicking as he got a good look at his room from where he laid; it was fairly luxury, like a hotel room if anything. A large glass window overlooking the city, a squashy chair beside a desk, a door leading to the bathroom, a TV, coffee machine, phone, and this stupidly large double bed. Well... stupidly large to him, it was made for demons.

Sitting up, he noted the security camera in the room. Oh yeah that was not going to fly. He grabbed one of the pillowcases from a closet, and with a bit of scaling a nearby shelf, managed to hang it over the camera. There, better.

With that done, he went down to collect his bodyguard.

____

Older staff would of recognised his bodyguard, the towering beetle with the stoic face. The fact that demon was such a small imp's bodyguard was surreal. But neither caused any bother, just a lot of excited chatter that G-Force was in the tower. The couple of times he left the room, he'd been asked for autographs from various awestruck employees, which he gave under Shi's watchful eye.

Come morning and Velvette's text, Gritt trailed back up to the studio with Shi leading him. He remembered the tower's layout from when he worked here. They were sure to knock before coming in.

"Velvette, this is Shi. My bodyguard." Gritt introduced, Shi bowed his head slightly. "Miss Velvette." He greeted. It was hard to forget a sinner like that.

[bluehairedspidey]

Johnshi in MKX

So at the end of the first chapter of MKX, Johnny uses his green glow to save Sonya from Shinnok

Then, 20 years later, he tells the kombat kids about it and says this

"I've never been able to re-summon that green halo. Raiden thinks it was triggered when I saw a loved one about to die."

HOWEVER, we DO see ONE instance of Johnny using his green glow BEFORE he saves Sonya

At the beginning of the first chapter, Johnny, Kenshi, and Sonya are on a helicopter when they get attacked by Scorpion

Kenshi immediately pushes Johnny out of the way to protect him

Then gets hit by a blast of fire from Scorpion

And then Johnny uses his green glow to kick Scorpion away from Kenshi

Kenshi is one of Johnny's loved ones

[acaesic]

guys they have the snipers are trained on me for saying this but the next song is going to be spkothdvl—💥💥💥🔫🔫

[blueyedgrass]

said i would not talk about cwilbur death yet here i am collecting things so i can draw a the best (worst) place he couldve been stabbed.

[alexiroflife]

jjk men when you aren't feeling well but try to hide it...

"hello! i was wondering if you could write an angst but w comfort fluff headcannon w the jjk men? i was thinking reader has an injury or is sick but she hides it, but they find out. it would be great if you can, but if not i totally understand. your writing is amazing!!!" -anon

gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna

satoru gojo: (sprained ankle!)

you're fucked.

you know you are the moment you go to pick yourself up from your boyfriend's hardwood kitchen floors and wince in pain in reaction to the pressure in your left ankle.

you hiss, immediately stumbling back to a sitting position. You look over your outstretched foot to find that your ankle is rapidly swelling, and you curse under your breath.

this is so inconvenient. of all times to injure yourself, you of course had to a day before an important mission. you never handle injuries very well. you are always so quick to brush them off, or at least be in denial about them because you can't stand the thought of feeling helpless or incapable.

especially not when satoru gojo is your boyfriend, who unfortunately knows you far too well to overlook something like an injury to your ankle.

damn. what are you supposed to do? satoru will never let you out of his sight, let alone allow you to go on this mission if he finds out about your injury. as much as you love the way he looks after you, you're not in the mood to accept the fact that you may not be able to walk for a few days without his help.

you try to stand again, stubborn with determination. you grip onto the countertop and rise slowly on your able foot, then lean to press your injured foot down slowly. okay... not so bad! Maybe you can add just a little bit more pressure, and-

"fuck," you curse, sharp pain throbbing through your foot the moment you try to walk. You lift your leg immediately and whimper, leaning your body against the counter. "god dammit," you pout.

you should ice it, you think, but icing it will only make the injury more real. maybe it's not so bad, right? maybe if you just sit down for a bit and push it to the back of your head, it will go away?

you know it's not smart, but truthfully, you don't have the time to worry about a stupid ankle. you're sure you only irritated it. with some rest, you'll be fine.

you hop your way up the stairs with your hand gripping the railing tightly to your shared bedroom and ease yourself into bed. you decide you'll take a nap while you wait for satoru to come home, ignoring the simmering pain in your swollen ankle.

"babyyy!"

you wake suddenly to the sound of satoru's voice singing through the house. you jump and immediately hold in a whimper of pain when you accidentally shift your foot beneath the covers. you can tell solely by the lack of mobility in your ankle that it's, unsurprisingly, gotten worse.

you panic, moving quickly to prop your back up against the headboard. you fix yourself in the most normal possible position you can without agitating your foot, and you turn to the door with an innocent expression the second satoru bursts through with a beam.

"hey, pretty," he walks in and immediately crouches over the bed to wrap you up in a hug. you cringe as his lips meet every crook of your face, his body enveloping you in warmth. "missed you so much today," he sighs.

"missed you too, toru," you wrap your arms around his back. "how was your day?"

"same old same old. the higher-ups only get more annoying each day, if that's even possible," he grumbles into your ear, slumping against you. "what are you doing cooped up here all by yourself? you taking a nap?"

"yeah, I just woke up," you tell him with a hefty exhale, his lips meeting the crook of your neck lazily as he nuzzles into you. "you wanna take one with me, you big baby?" you giggle.

"god yes," satoru agrees. "but first, I'm starving. did you eat while I was gone?"

"nah, I waited for you, toru."

"well, you normally cook, baby, I was waiting for you."

you momentarily freeze and he pulls back reluctantly, not before dotting one more kiss to the crook of your jaw. you had completely forgotten about making dinner, but seeing how you couldn't even walk, those cards were off the table.

he looks down at you with his arms propped on either side of your figure on the bed. your ankle continues to throb, and while you try to hide the pain that you are currently in by shifting ever so subtly beneath him, his sapphire eyes catch the twitch in your brow and the motion of your body beneath his blindfold.

"not that I care if you cook or not. obviously you were tired..." he trails off. "you okay?"

fucking hell, damn those six eyes.

you nod despite yourself, keeping a soft smile as you brush your fingers over satoru's hair. "yeah, of course. just tired like you said. I'm sorry about dinner, it slipped my mind."

"don't you dare apologize," he ducks down to kiss your cheek loudly. "we can go out to eat. make it a date before your big mission tomorrow, yeah?"

you internally deflate. the idea sounds amazing, but going on a date would mean getting up, getting dressed, and walking out the door. you're unfortunately physically incapable of doing any of the above at the moment.

satoru watches the way your shoulders slump and your lips part as if to protest, and he tilts his head in slight confusion. "...or not..." he says slowly.

"sorry, toru, it's not that I don't wanna go, i just don't have the energy..." you excuse pathetically.

satoru's face tells you that he doesn't buy your words, but he complies nonetheless. "that's no problem, baby, we can order in instead."

you sigh and nod with a gentle smile. "that sounds great."

"someone's feeling real lazy today, huh?" he teases, hooking his finger into his blindfold to peel it from his face, revealing his bright irises gazing curiously down at you. "you sure you're just tired?"

"yeah... why?"

"i'm just askin," he says. his eyes dart over you one more time before he pushes himself up with an exhale and tugging at your arm. "come on, let's go to the living room to order."

why the hell does he want to move around so much?!

"um- why can't we just order here?"

a smile quirks on Satoru's lips as though you've made a joke. "cause, we'll be downstairs once the food gets here," he says.

you pucker your lips slightly and tilt your head. "can't we just eat it up here and you can go get it?"

gojo's eyes are now slim with suspicion as he pulls himself back over to you. "i mean, of course i can but you never eat takeout in bed, we always cuddle downstairs and eat."

"I'm tired, can't i change it up today?"

"you know i have no problem doing what you want and pampering you baby," satoru starts slowly. his eyes dash to your legs, and he suddenly notes that he has not seen you bend them in the few minutes he has been home. in fact, you had been rather stagnant instead of running up to clobber him when he entered the room, whether you were previously asleep or not. "but you're acting a little weird."

"no, I'm not," you deny adamantly. you have always been a poor liar, but in the face of Satoru Gojo, your lack of talent in the arena only proves to be more prominent. "you think too much, you know that?"

"you think so?" he raises a brow at you, a hint of playfulness remaining though it is steadily fleeting the longer he examines you. "you think i'm thinking too much if i feel like you're lying to me?"

you press your lips together tightly. "...yes."

"hm," he nods. "come here for a second, pretty," he requests, stepping back a bit to give you room to stand. "just real quick, then you can lay back down and I'll get us that food."

"why do you want me to stand?"

"i wanna give you a big hug," he opens his arms widely. "c'mon, give your loving boyfriend a hug. you'd never deny me that after such a long day."

"come hug me here, then," you roll your eyes, turning to look the other way as heat overtakes your body.

"i want to hold you and pick you up," he argues, knowingly. "just stand and walk to me for one second."

"no."

"no?!"

"no, i don't want to."

"don't want to or you can't?" he accuses, face falling along with his arms. he moves to sit at the edge of the bed beside your legs, resting a hand over your uninjured one. "why can't you get up?" he asks, this time a tad more serious.

"i don't feel like it, satoru, god," you murmur in annoyance, growing agitated with his swiftness to notice that something is wrong.

"don't 'satoru' me, baby, you're the one not telling the truth," he says. "what's wrong with your legs?"

"nothing."

"then stand up."

"no, satoru. stop telling me to stand."

"i will if you tell me what's wrong."

"nothing's wrong!" you shrug harshly, crossing your arms and suddenly taking interest in whatever is outside of the bedroom window. satoru stares at you intently for a moment then back down at your covered legs.

he gazes harshly between the two, pondering, before reaching over to rip the comforter upward to reveal your bare feet. you gasp slightly, jerking to stop him, when your swollen ankle is revealed.

his brows immediately angle and he leans to hastily look over it. "(y/n), what the hell?! what happened to your foot?"

you grow embarrassed suddenly, moving to brush his hands away. "it's not that bad, stop," you say, going to move your leg to the side when you hiss sharply.

"not that bad? baby, your ankle's the size of a golfball!"

"satoru, you're being dramatic."

"what happened?" he asks, concerned. "did this happen while I was gone?"

"it's fine, relax."

"(y/n)," satoru begins sternly. you can tell that you've pinched a nerve. "i'm about to lose it if you don't tell me how this happened and why you were trying to hide it from me."

you frown. "But-"

"Now."

you hug your arms around yourself with another meek shrug. "it's humiliating..." you murmur.

satoru softens slightly. "baby, humiliating? i'm worried about you getting hurt."

"yeah, but-" you sigh and close your eyes, your emotions suddenly getting the best of you. you hate feeling small and weak, as though you can't handle yourself, and you swear every time you injure yourself or get sick, it's the worst possible thing that could happen in the entire world. "i don't know. whatever."

"uh uh uh," your white-haired boyfriend tuts, leaning over the smooth his hand over your leg comfortingly. "it's not 'whatever.' i know exactly how you are. you can't fool me. is this about your mission tomorrow?"

"it's not just about the mission, toru, i just don't- i hate it when i can't do stuff on my own."

"you don't have to tell me something i'm already well aware of." you give him a look. "don't look at me like that. i know you like the back of my hand, and i especially know when you're uncomfortable."

"i get it, toru," you frown.

"why the attitude, hm?" he asks, leaning over to prop his elbow on the other side of you, his body resting against your lap as he peers up at you gently. "it's okay to get hurt- well, no, it's not okay for you to get hurt because it makes me wanna die, but you get what I mean."

your lips twitch in amusement momentarily, leading satoru to grin widely.

"there's that pretty smile."

"it's just-" you huff. "it was such a stupid thing... i rolled my ankle stepping down from closing the cabinets and when it started getting worse, i thought it was so dumb that something so small did that to me so i left it alone. now it's probably twisted, and i just feel really..."

"you're not weak," satoru interjects urgently. "if that's what you're saying, which i'm pretty sure you are. you're far from what i would call weak."

"still. it still made me feel weak. and i'm supposed to go on that mission tomorrow, and i don't know what the hell i'm gonna tell yaga-"

"forget the mission."

"...satoru, i can't just-"

"you can and you will. you have an injury, baby. you can't walk. it's okay, i'll talk to yaga and he'll get someone else on the assignment while I take care of you."

"but the fact that you even have to do that because i was clumsy!" you shake your head and look down. "it's so ridiculous. and i knew you were gonna worry..."

"of course i'm gonna worry, (y/n). no less than you'd worry for me."

"but you're you."

"so? do you worry for me any less because of that?"

"i mean... i know you're always gonna be fine, but... yeah, i guess."

"you guess?" satoru scoffs. "to think, my girlfriend doesn't care about me..."

"oh shut up," you nudge his head away. his grin remains, face turning back to you as he captures you in his soft gaze. "obviously I worry."

"then, there you go," satoru says. his free hand runs over your hip. "i know you can handle yourself just fine and that you're strong as hell, but whether you're going on a mission or stubbing your toe, I'm worrying 'cause i love you."

you pout slightly. "I love you too."

"i know," he beams, kissing your thigh. "so stop with that. as if you'd ever be weak for getting a little boo boo."

"yeah, but now you're not gonna let me do anything," you whine.

"is there really such a big problem with that?" satoru smirks. "try hiding an injury from me again, and you really won't be able to do anything. now let me see."

he pushes himself up to round the edge of the bed. he kneels down and cradles your foot in his hand delicately, fingers grazing the area of swelling. his brow angles. "can you move it?"

you shake your head slowly. "not without it hurting."

"in all seriousness, baby, you need to take better care of yourself. why didn't you ice it?"

"...i wanted it to go away."

"and you walked up the stairs after rolling your ankle?!"

"i wanted to get into bed!"

satoru lowers his head. "what am i gonna do with you? you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days."

"it's really not that serious. i just need to rest it a bit and then I'll be fine-"

"i'm gonna go cook you some dinner, okay? then we can eat in bed and cuddle, and then I'll run you a hot bath later."

"satoru, i just said it's not that serious! please don't go burning down the house because of my ankle. we can literally still order food," you try to convince him, but the blue-eyed man is already on his feet, by your side, and kissing your lips.

"not another word. you're practically dying, now, i have to look after you."

"toru-"

"i'll be right back, i'm gonna grab you some ice and a pillow for your foot."

"satoru!"

but when you call him, he's already zooming out of the room and down the stairs. you sigh and plop your head back against the headboard with a soft smile. as humiliating as you find it to be injured, you can never say that gojo doesn't do everything he can, if not excessively more, to look after you when you are.

suguru geto: (cold!)

shit.

you step into the bathroom for the umpteenth time today to blow your nose, clearing your searing throat as you do so with a groan.

something in you knew this morning that you were coming down with a cold when you woke up to that dreadful scratch in the back of your throat, but the idea of getting sick physically ails you more than actually being sick does.

you're far too busy today to be weighed down by some common cold. you're in between meetings at work as you toss another tissue into the women's trash. You have paperwork to finish filling out by midnight, and you have to pick up the girls later from daycare.

how can you be sick of all things?

you know it's likely because you run yourself ragged more often than you need to, and suguru always tells you to slow down and take a breath, but you rarely listen to him. your life moves at a quick pace, constantly on the run from one task to the next, and you truly do not feel that you have the leisure of giving yourself one second to rest.

you're on the verge of earning a new promotion, and you need the money. you need the opportunities, and the accomplishments to care for the family you've built with geto. just as suguru works tirelessly to manage his cult, you work tirelessly to keep a living for yourself.

you're proud of the work you have done, truly you are, but at times it feels as though you are amounting to nothing, chasing promises of a higher position that have yet to come. despite the haziness of the path ahead, you push harder and harder each day.

suguru hates it, how you drive yourself to the brink of insanity day in and day out, but you can't help but be an overachiever. you can't help but work hard for those who may not even deserve it.

and now, of course, you're sick. you can feel your temperature spiking, your nose is stuffy, and your head is pounding. you want to go home and curl into bed, but you have responsibilities to fulfill. just a few more hours... then you're home with geto, with the girls, safe in bed just to wake up and do it all over again tomorrow.

you jump when your phone suddenly rings in your pocket. you pull it out to see your boyfriend's contact, and you straighten yourself up as best as you can to make it sound as though you aren't struggling to breathe through your nostrils.

"hello?"

"hey, babe, how's work going?" suguru's soothing voice echoes through the phone and you sigh, clinging to the comfort his tone provides. you miss him. you want to go home already.

"it's good," you lie. "i have a few more meetings. then some paperwork to finish, but I'll be able to get mimi and nana on time."

"actually, i called to tell you not to worry about that. i got finished up here with the group pretty early, so i'll be able to get them later."

you're relieved that you won't have to expose the girls to your germs in the car. "okay, thanks for letting me know. you need me to pick up some food on the way home?"

"no, we're gonna make pizzas later. the girls have been dying to try it making it from scratch forever, so i'll take them to the store once i get them."

"...oh. okay..." you nod. "there's nothing else you need me to do then?"

"just to come home in one piece," suguru says. "i'm trying to take some stuff off your plate, (y/n). you've been exhausted, and you can't tell me otherwise."

"sugu, I'm fine," you dismiss him, only to turn your head into your elbow to muffle a cough. you forget to mute the call when you do so.

"what was that? are you okay?" the dark-haired man questions quickly. "you're not sick, are you?"

"no, no," you deny fast, voice slightly hoarse. you clear your throat quickly. "something was just- stuck in my throat. but I'm fine. i'm not sick."

suguru's quiet for a moment, and you chew on the inside of your lip while you wait for him to respond. you know it's impossible to fool suguru, especially when it comes to matters regarding you or the girls, but you can't handle him worrying over you right now. his concerns would only bring you back to reality, pulling you from this cycle of overworking you've fallen into. you need to keep going. You can't stop, and if suguru knows you're sick, he will make you stop.

"suguru? you there?" you finally say.

"oh yeah, i'm here," he responds rather quickly, and you internally curse yourself. "what time do you get off?"

"uhhh..." you think about it for a moment. it's 3:30 now, and technically you only have an hour and a half left, but since the girls will be picked up by Suguru, you realize you can finish your paperwork in the office. "today's kind of a long day... so I probably won't be home until... 7?"

"(Y/n)."

"i know, i know, but listen, i just have to finish up this paperwork. that's all."

"weren't you just gonna do it at home?"

"well, yeah, but since you're getting the girls, it's kinda easier for me to finish it here..." you start mumbling lowly, knowing that whatever explanation you give is not one that suguru will willingly accept.

"babe, please just come home at a normal time today. you can't keep doing this to yourself."

"i promise it won't be past 7. i swear. just let me get this done, and I'll be home."

suguru releases a hefty sigh, and you can picture him rubbing his thumb against his forehead in stress. "7 o'clock, (y/n). i mean it. if you're so much as five minutes late, i'm coming over there myself with rainbow dragon."

you chuckle softly. "i promise it won't get to that. i'll be fine, alright? i'll text you when I'm headed out."

"okay. I'll see you in a bit."

after your meetings had ended, your cold symptoms grew worse. your coughs were more frequent, a pile of tissues were stacked at your cubicle, and the glare of your computer screen felt as though it was burning a hole into your already aching head.

you feel miserable, and as luck would have it, your boss placed a new stack of papers onto your desk to finish filling out before you went home on his way out of the door.

you're alone in the office now, surrounded by excess assignments, and you can hardly breathe through your nose. you check the time, and its thirty to the time you told suguru you'd be home. you groan, rubbing your hands over your face.

you're tired. your bones are aching. you want to be with the girls, you want to be home, you don't want to do this anymore. you're so burned out, it hurts, and you want to cry and collapse face-first onto your desk at the same time.

just then, your phone lights up with a message from suguru. you open it eagerly to be greeted with an image of the girls beaming up at the camera in the kitchen, hands covered in tomato sauce as they display them to the phone. beneath the photo, suguru types.

we miss you :(

you break, placing your phone down and shielding your face in your hands as the tears flow. god, you miss spending time with them. you're hardly home anymore because you've been so busy with work, and you're yearning to be held by your boyfriend, to hear the girls laugh, to sink into the bed combined with your deteriorating physical state makes you feel worse.

you miss having a life.

you don't know how long you spend crying in your empty office before your body shuts down on you completely. the energy you exerted shedding tears in addition to your long days at work send you into a deep sleep. before you know it, you're knocked out with your cheek pressed against one of your unfinished papers.

the second you failed to answer Suguru's text, he knew something was wrong. he calls, and calls, and calls after twenty minutes, but you don't answer. He wastes absolutely no time in calling up manami to look after the girls before trekking out of the house to you with rainbow dragon, just as he promised.

he's prepared to break a window when he sees the janitor leaving the building. he takes the opportunity to swoop in through the doors after grumbling something about his girlfriend being inside, before making his way up to you.

when he reaches your office, he finds you lying in the only occupied cubicle. His eyes go wide as he studies your slumped figure, walking slowly to where you're seated. he notes the tissues and cough drop wrappers crowding your space, then the tears that coat your lashes when he kneels down.

"jesus, (y/n)," he murmurs, swiftly getting to work and clearing your desk of all your trash. when he's done, he crouches by you again and runs a hand over your back. "baby, wake up for me. come on," he coaxes softly.

you stir, face tightening in discomfort. suguru sees the bags under your eyes and his frown deepens. Eventually, you wake with furrowed brows, adjusting your blurry eyes to the sight of suguru gazing down at you worriedly.

"sugu...?" you mumble weakly, only to be interrupted by a few coughs that rack your chest. suguru's heart aches.

"i knew it," he sighs, eyes hardening as his hand strokes over your warm forehead. "why don't you listen?"

"what are you doing here?" you grumble, picking your head up slowly. you're greeted with a retched reminder of your headache, and you wince, pressing your hand to your head.

"we had an agreement, remember?" he reminds you, and you slowly recall. you move to grab your phone and the time reads 7:15. "i wasn't joking."

"suguru..."

"stop," he immediately cuts you off. "look at you, (y/n). you've made yourself sick."

"it's just a- a cough," you murmur, rubbing your irritated eyes harshly.

"that's bullshit, baby," he tells you rather firmly. "i don't know why you're trying to hide this from me when i knew something like this would happen. we're going home."

"no, wait, Suguru, i didn't finish my paperwork yet."

"do you think I give two shits about your paperwork?"

his tone comes off rather harshly, and both of you notice. he blinks his eyes tensely and readjusts himself, attempting to reel in his anger. his anger for you, over your lack of care for your wellbeing, at your fucking boss for letting you work yourself like this.

"you've been killing yourself for weeks, (y/n). i won't let you anymore. this is the last straw."

"hold on," you urge. suguru looks down at you, befuddled. "i really can't just up and leave my work behind like this. I'm sorry, I can't."

"what's more important to you, (y/n)? being healthy or working yourself to death?" he proposes, almost pained by the latter. "if you cared about your well-being, you would have asked for an extension or at least had a conversation with your dick of a boss about doing this another time. anyone can see that you aren't feeling well, and someone who cares will tell you that enough is enough."

"don't make me do this, suguru," you whimper. suguru's face relaxes when he sees your eyes glossing over. "don't make me stop. I can't stop."

"baby," he curls his brows, holding your cheek in his hand as he kneels before you. "why are you doing this to yourself?"

"b-because, I have to..."

"no, you don't. i've been telling you this for years, you don't have to do this."

"but I need to make something of myself. i have to keep going. i can't just quit, because if I do, then what will any of this have meant? why have i been doing this?"

"you're breaking my heart, baby," suguru exhales. "this job doesn't define you. i see how hardworking, smart, and strong you are. i see the effort you put into everything you do. i see the commitment in your heart. i see it everywhere, all the time, and that is one of many reasons why i love you so much."

your lips wobble as you look into his hazel eyes as his voice and words melt you into his palm. you've been moving so fast all this time, you've been trying to prevent yourself from falling into suguru's warmth, which has always had the power to make you do anything he says.

"but I can't stand to watch you make yourself sick because you think there's more you need to do. this isn't good for you. you know it isn't."

you nod, red nose flaring as you sniff. "i know," you admit.

"so please, please take a break. i'm literally begging you. you need to come home and rest. i'll take care of everything else, just come home. lay down. come back to us. to me."

your shoulders jerk as a few tears drop from your eyes. "sugu, i can't do this anymore," you finally give in. "i don't even feel like myself. i just want to go home."

"then let's go baby, come on," he stands and takes you with him in his arms, pressing your body to his as he holds you. you sink into him, your exhaustion and your sickness finally crashing down over you. "i'm gonna fucking kill your boss," he murmurs into your hair.

you laugh weakly against him, closing your eyes. "later. just take me home, now. please."

"yes ma'am," he nods, kneeling down to pick you up into his arms. you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his chest.

"m'gonna get you sick," you mutter.

"we can be sick together," he chuckles. "the girls and I can make you some soup. they've been obsessed with cooking lately," he says, leaning over to shut off your monitor before carrying you off to the elevators.

"that picture of them you sent earlier made me so sad. I miss you guys so much."

"i'm sorry baby, i didn't mean to upset you that much. i was only trying to guilt you a little into coming home early."

you slap his shoulder pathetically. "asshole."

"i know, i'm sorry," he kisses your head. "gonna get you all better in no time."

kento nanami: (low iron!)

you have always been a little anemic, and of course that never really posed as a terrible challenge for you until you ran out of iron supplements.

it is your responsibility undoubtedly to keep track of when you run out and when you need to restock, but recently, you've found yourself neglecting the habit.

you never did like taking iron pills, or any supplements for that matter. you feel as though they take too much out of your daily life, as though they're a burden to your existence, and the harder you think about it, the less inclined you are to keep track of it.

it's been about three weeks since you last took your iron, and while you would like to say that you have improved significantly, you would be lying.

perhaps the first few days of not taking your supplements was fine, but as time droned on, the symptoms kicked back in rather quickly. you are extremely tired all the time, you feel lighter on your feet as if you are going to pass out at any given moment, and your hands and feet are ridiculously cold though it is now the summertime, and the weather outside thoroughly contrasts your body temperature.

you're in denial about the changes, of course. you want to be able to feel fine without the crutch of your pills, but the reality of the situation is that you don't, and it's crushing you for some reason.

what's crushing you more is that you know how disappointed nanami will be to find out that you haven't been being responsible in stocking up on your supplements. he would normally keep track of when you run out in addition to you, but he's reeled it in a bit over the past few months because you wanted him to trust that you can handle taking care of something that you've managed all of your life, so he did.

and yet, here you are, trying to hide the symptoms of your iron deficiency that are only proving harder to veil. nanami has already asked you a few times if you are feeling okay over the past few weeks, therefore you know that he suspects exactly what is happening, but you brush him off each time.

"i'm good, honey," you'd tell him. "just had a long day. what about you? how are you feeling?"

you feel like shit lying to him, but you're afraid of being truthful for some reason. he would scold you, and you'd have to resort to the aid of your only weakness all over again.

god, why can't you just be normal?

you've even tried to ween off of the strict iron-sufficient diet that you've been on practically all your life because you feel like you have something to prove, especially in this world of jujutsu. how can you be a sorcerer with low iron? how can something so smell render you so weak? it's pathetic.

you don't want to think about it, in truth. you want it all to just go away. you want to be fine, to feel fine without eating certain things constantly or taking those damn pills, and you try to force yourself to, but it only grows worse the longer you hide it.

you stumble into your home after a long day of teaching and press your back to the door with a sigh. you know nanami won't be home for another forty or so minutes, so you kick your shoes off, go grab a water, and plop down on the couch.

you feel so tired. you pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, leaning back. this is stupid, you think. you're being stupid. just reorder the damn pills.

but something stubborn within you refuses. something within you that must prove you can push past this.

you decide to watch some tv to distract you as you wait for nanami to return home. he suggested cooking for you tonight, so you rest until you hear him walking through the door.

"hi honey," he greets. you turn to smile gently at him as he rounds the corner. your cheeks pinch with happiness, your current turmoil momentarily forgotten when you see your husband approach. you go to stand and walk into his open arms, just like you normally do when he comes home.

you put the remote to the side and shoot up. your mind is occupied only by nanami as you move toward him, but you see his face drop and your vision turns upside down, and suddenly, you're falling.

kento is quick to react, ducking down impressively to catch you in his arms before you can hit the ground. you collapse into him, head dizzy and breath suddenly gone.

"sweetheart?! (y/n) are you alright? are you awake?"

you groan, shifting in his strong arms as they cradle you securely. when your vision regains focus, you're staring up at nanami's worried face, your body resting over his lap. you blink rapidly before realizing what just happened.

"oh shit," you whisper.

"(y/n)," nanami says your name again, caressing your cheek sweetly. "are you here with me now?"

"y-yeah," you nod, moving to sit up and press your hand to his chest. "i'm alright."

"absolutely not," he stops you immediately, pressing against you to lay you back down on his lip. you frown, looking up at him. "don't even try sitting up like that right now."

"kento," you start, growing worried by the tense look on his face. "i'm okay, really. i just sat up too fast."

"i know," he affirms, his thumb still smoothing over your skin. "and care to tell me why that alone is making you pass out?"

you can't find the words to respond as you stare at him, likely as guiltily as you feel. he hums knowingly.

"right," he sighs. "(y/n), how long has it been since you've taken your iron?"

and there it is. the very question you had been dreading.

"...i'm not sure what you're-"

"don't. really, don't," he interjects firmly and you shiver, rather unfamiliar with this side of your doting partner. "i'm still trying to adjust to the fact that you haven't been truthful with me. the least you can do is tell me how long it's been."

your heart drops. "kento..."

"i'm not in the mood for stalling, sweetheart. go on. out with it."

the sternness of his voice hardly matches the way he is holding you and stroking your cheek, but nevertheless, you feel awful. you avert your gaze and shrink into yourself. "three weeks."

"three?" he repeats incredulously, and you nod in shame. "i knew it had been over a week, but three, (y/n)?"

"i know," you mutter.

"why? after you told me not to check after you, to trust that you'd take care of yourself," nanami questions. "this is why i tried to help you. i know it can be a hassle sometimes, and forgetting is one thing, but to deliberately stop taking them when you know how much i worry about it... when you know how important it is for you?"

you bite hard on your lip and look away, brows curling. nanami notices immediately and softens himself, leaning down closer to you.

"my love," he starts. "i don't mean to upset you, but this is very upsetting to me."

"i know. i know, i'm sorry..." you whimper.

"but not because it's about me, (y/n), because it's about you. and you've been hiding this from me, of all things. i don't understand."

"i just didn't wanna take them anymore, ken," you say quietly.

the blonde furrows his brows. "you didn't want to take them? have you not been taking them for years?"

"i have but that's the problem. i'm a sorcerer now, and..." you exhale. "the point of being a sorcerer is to not have anything weighing you down, and this weighs me down."

"if anything, (y/n), not taking the supplements weighs you down more."

"no, i just mean- all of it, the whole iron deficiency, i hate it," you confess. "i'm tired of relying on something to be strong. i'm tired of being tied down to this. i wanted to see if i could overcome it, but i can't. i'll always have this problem, and it sucks, ken," you ramble. "if i could go without taking these pills and still do my job like i always have, then just maybe.... maybe i could be better. and i could prove that i... i don't need those stupid pills, or the extra greens, or the- whatever. just all of it."

nanami looks down at you rather sadly. "i had no idea you felt this way."

"i haven't always felt this way. it's just lately, i don't know, i feel pressured to go beyond."

"darling, your iron-deficiency doesn't make you any less talented than other sorcerers."

"i know. i mean, i should know, but i can't help but feel that way."

nanami presses his lips together, smoothing a knuckle over your cheekbone. "i'm sorry you feel like this."

"it's not your fault, ken. and i shouldn't have kept this from you, i know. i'm sorry. i just felt humiliated by it."

"there's nothing for you to be humiliated by," he reassures you. "your deficiency is no different from any of us having to feed ourselves or drink water in between missions to keep ourselves alive. it's a necessity, and though we are sorcerers, we live off of necessities to keep ourselves physically and mentally able to work. you have a responsibility to yourself. just like the rest of us. just because your iron's a little lower doesn't mean anything about who you are as a sorcerer."

"...i never thought of it like that. i've just been thinking of it as a burden."

"it's only a burden if you view it that way. you are a grade one sorcerer who i have watched climb the ranks effortlessly since we were in high school, all the while with an iron deficiency that you have always taken supplements for. that never stopped you," he says. "the problem comes in when you don't keep up with yourself and take care of those needs. just like how i'd be unable to work if i decided to skip my last few meals and drink less water."

"that makes sense," you mumble, capturing his soft brown eyes with yours.

"good," he nods. "(y/n) you can't neglect your needs like this."

"i know."

"i'm being serious. i'll start checking behind you again if i find out that you're not doing what you need to do to take care of your body."

"i know, ken, i'm sorry, i-" you stop yourself and shake your head. "i just let my insecurities get the best of me."

"then, let me handle taking care of your insecurities. you handle taking your supplements. do we have an agreement?"

you nod slowly. "yeah. we do. i'm sorry for lying again, ken."

"please don't do it again," he sighs, ducking to kiss your forehead. "but i know you wouldn't lie to me about anything else, and that you hiding this was solely out of fear."

you slowly move to sit up, and this time, kento helps you very gradually. he guides you back to sit on the couch and cups your face gently, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "i'll go order some more iron and then get started on dinner. alright?"

you hum with a soft smile. "alright. i love you, ken."

he returns your loving smile. "i love you more, sweetheart."

choso kamo: (broken finger!)

it had fully been an accident.

you should have been paying more attention to what you were doing and at the same time, so should have panda.

it really was an honest mistake. you were standing in the doorway as everyone left the classroom, your fingers clutched around the frame as everyone filed out. you were asking around if anyone had seen your boyfriend, and yuta mentioned that he saw him with yuji earlier that day.

you thanked him, and just as you were about to pull your hand away, panda, who was the last out of the room, slammed the door shut behind him thinking you had already moved out of the way.

but you hadn't.

the door flew into your index and middle fingers and you screamed bloody murder. the cursed corpse as well as his classmates whipped their heads around, and to panda's horror, you were knocking your forehead against the wall with tears in your eyes as your fingers trembled in the doorframe.

"(Y/N), HOLY SHIT I'M SO SORRY!"

you hadn't expected panda to actually break one of your fingers, but you give the freak credit for his unnatural strength. you later find out that yuji and choso had gone out to grab food for you when you see a text from your boyfriend pop up asking what flavor ramen you want the second you learn that shoko will not be available until late tonight.

for the time being, you're given a finger splint and pain medicine as though you aren't freaking surrounded by jujutsu sorcery.

and god, did it hurt! like, really, really hurt. your fingers are throbbing, and the one that isn't broken is bruised and stained with some blood. you wish you could be angrier at panda, but his groveling before your feet on his knees eases your frustration a bit. after all, it hadn't been on purpose.

you're sent home and you are given no choice but to wait until choso returns, and you're... nervous. choso never handles the ailment of his loved ones very well. his spiritual and physical connection to his brothers wellbeings' often causes him to lose his mind every time yuji gets accidentally punched in the face during training, and when it comes to you? well, choso is just the same if not somehow worse.

you remember one time you got a papercut and winced when your finger made contact with soap. choso was quick to your side, grasping your wrist and looking over your hand as though it had been severed off.

one thing you have come to know in your relationship with the brunette is that he would (and has) killed someone for the sake of the people closest to him. he does not mess around when it comes to his family, and he certainly doesn't mess around when it comes to you.

and while you think he can be a bit excessive with making sure you're alright when it's hardly necessary, it's first and foremost endearing, and it only makes you realize that he will go ballistic the second he finds out that someone broke your finger.

he doesn't naively think that you can never go unharmed, though he would be incredibly content with the notion if it were plausible. he's familiar with scars, wounds, fights, and battles, and he knows you're in the very center of it just as much as he and his brother are. but still, he hates it when you're hurt. he wants to protect you as best as he can, or to at least prevent you from suffering any more than a sorcerer already has to suffer. he only wants you to be safe.

so to prevent him from having a heart attack, you decide it's better if he doesn't know about the incident. when you answer his texts before heading home, you mention nothing about your poor finger in hopes of him not finding out at least until after you're healed.

that plan of yours, however, fails when choso comes barging through the door three hours earlier than you expected him to return. your eyes go wide from where you sit on the couch, and you have no time to even go to hide your fingers behind your back when choso marches up to you, agitated.

"uh-" you're cut off when he grabs your arm gently and lifts it into the air, your taped crooked finger showcasing itself to him. you press your lips together at how poorly the plan to conceal this from him has failed. "cho-"

"were you gonna tell me about this?" his violet eyes fly to yours in a fury, and you're almost stunned by how aggravated he looks. his voice is calm, low, but his face is wrecked with concern and almost betrayal.

"...i was, but i wanted to wait because i didn't want you to freak out..." you say slowly, watching him softly. "like you are now..?"

"that's not fair, (y/n)," he frowns and you furrow your brows. "that's not fair at all."

"woah, hold on... are you mad at me?"

"i don't know," he answers you honestly, looking between your face and your trembling hand. "i'm... upset."

"who told you about my fingers, love?"

"yuji got a text from yuta," he tells you, moving to sit down on the space beside you with your hand still cradled in his. "he said that panda was begging me not to kill him, and this was after i had talked to you."

"oh..." you sigh. "okay, yeah, i can see how that looks."

"why didn't you tell me you got hurt? and pretty badly too? where's ieiri?"

"she won't be back on campus for another hour," you explain. "i didn't want you to worry, cho, i figured i'd just tell you after it was better, but..."

"why would you try to hide something from me?" he asks you, suddenly sounding hurt. it's clear on his face that he doesn't understand why you would conceal something as important as your health from him, whether it was small or not. you tell each other everything, and that shouldn't have stopped now of all times because you don't want him to worry.

"i didn't know you'd get so upset, cho, honestly," you tell him. "i-" you stop when a sharp pain shoots through your fingers and you gasp. choso's face drops and he gently sets your hand down to his lap, panicked.

"i'm sorry," he apologizes. "shit, you must be in a lot of pain."

"it's nothing i haven't experienced before," you try to reassure him, giving him a tight smile.

"why does that matter?" choso drags his brows together. "pain is pain. i don't like when you feel any of it."

you melt. "i know. i know you don't, i don't like when you feel any of it either."

"so don't... keep stuff like this from me, (y/n)," he says sternly. "please, i need to know. i don't have the same connection to you that i have with my blood brothers, but i'm still connected to you all the same. when you hurt, i hurt."

"i get it cho, i'm sorry," you nod bashfully. "i wasn't trying to make you mad. i just don't like it when you're stressed out."

"i'm always stressed out," he says flatly, and you raise your brows with a halfhearted smile.

"yeah, i know. so why stress you even more?"

"i'd rather be stressed about you if i'm stressing about anything," he says, looking over your face as the hardness in his gaze washes away. "you know you're everything to me."

"i know, baby," you push out your bottom lip, pressing your free hand to the side of his cheek and leaning in to kiss him. his ears burn when you pull away, and he sighs heavily.

"don't offend me by trying to hide stuff like this. it won't work."

"i'm sorryyyy," you giggle and choso grumbles incoherently under his breath.

his gaze goes back to your fingers and his brows curl. "how the hell do you slam a door on someone's hand?" he hisses.

"it was an accident, cho, he didn't mean it."

"i know, and i shouldn't really be angry at him but i can't help but be irritated because you're hurt..." his fingers graze the tape. "how bad does it hurt?"

"cho, it'll be okay."

"that wasn't my question."

you roll your eyes at his attitude with a soft smile. "it hurts as much as a broken finger would."

"right. sorry," he murmurs.

"you're okay, love, you don't need to apologize."

"i still wish i- nevermind," he refrains himself from discussing how he wanted to be there to protect you from such an unpredictable occurence. "is there anything i can do to help you feel better while we wait? do you need anything?"

"ummm," you try to think. "actually, could you grab a new pack of ice from the freezer? and... the snacks you got me earlier."

the brunette's face brightens slightly with the thought that he can do something to help ease your pain as you wait for shoko to return to the school.

he nods in determination, carefully sliding your hand into your lap and kissing your cheek before hopping up to run to the kitchen. he returns with the items you requested, placing the snacks down beside him and lifting the bag of ice over your hand.

"like this?" he eases the bag down and you wince, nodding.

"mhm. yeah," you strain out. choso watches your face sadly, hating the fact that you're hurting.

"i'm sorry for getting upset," he mumbles. you turn to look at him curiously. "i just love you a lot."

"i love you more, cho," you smile gently, leaning your head against his shoulder. he sighs, resting his chin atop your head as he ices your hand. "and don't worry, i get it. i won't try to hide injuries from you anymore."

"i really hope so."

"now can you pass me those chips please?"

toji fushiguro: (knife cut!)

toji is going to absolutely kill you, and you are dreading the moment he does.

he has always told you not to touch his weapons. even if you see any of them lying around his place because he never bothers to clean up in between jobs. his one rule when you're over is to leave them alone and to let him handle them when he gets back. he doesn't care how much you protest, he doesn't care that you want to help him pick up after himself.

no touching. that is all he asks of you.

and of course... one afternoon when he's out sorting out some finances with shiu and one of his knives is glaring at you from where it lay on the kitchen table, you can't help yourself.

you don't really think anything is going to happen. after all, you're not a baby, nor are you an idiot. you know how to handle a freaking knife and you know where to put it, and yet, somehow, you allow your arrogance with the task to distract you. you're not handling it as carefully as you should be, and the second you hear the keys jingling outside the front door, you panic.

the blade, naturally, fumbles in your grasp, and swipes through the air, over your palm, and to the carpet. you jump, stepping away as quickly as it falls. you feel a sting in your hand and look down to see the fresh gash stretching over your skin. you gape as blood slowly simmers from the wound, befuddled as to how something like this even happened so quickly.

you have no time to clean it when you hear the key inside the lock. you hurriedly pick up the knife with your unwounded hand, place it back on the table where you first saw it, rip a napkin from said table to press to your bleeding palm, and clench it into a fist just as the door opens.

toji immediately greets you with a raised brow, jade eyes eying you oddly as he steps in. "the hell are you gettin' into?" he asks, confused by the way you are standing against the wall when he enters.

you're quick to move into his space to distract him from the vision of his knife and from looking any further downward from your face. you lean up on your tiptoes, normal hand on his forearm as you kiss his scarred lips. "what do you mean?"

"why were you just standing there like that?"

"can't I wait by the door for you to come back?" you bat your eyelashes, and toji grunts, gazing down at you with lidded eyes as his hand comes around the small of your back. "i'm just happy to see you."

"you take a pill or somethin', doll?"

you glare at him. "now why would you ask me that?"

"you're just acting a little too nice, that's all."

you scoff. "i don't know what you're talking about, i'm literally always happy to see you."

"yeah, but i was gone for thirty minutes and you never make a show of it like this."

"why are you making it sound like i don't show you love? you're the one who's mean all the time," you retort sassily.

a smirk captures toji's lips as he ducks down to kiss you again. "that's more like it," he murmurs against you. "still ain't answer my question though."

"i literally did. i told you i was waiting for you."

"sure," he says, unconvinced. his eyes drag down your body and momentarily go to your fist when you swiftly wrap both arms around his neck, pulling him down to crash your lips into him once more.

his brows narrow and as you kiss him, and you can feel the blood on your hand seeping through your napkin. you curse internally, lowering your hand back down behind him as he pulls away.

"not that i'm against this," toji starts, voice dangerously low against your mouth. "but it feels like you're tryin' to distract me from something."

"why would i be doing that?" you ask gently, looking up into his piercing eyes. he hums, dragging himself away from you. he grabs your chin softly and tilts your head left and right, looking over your face. "what are you doing?" you ask.

"lookin' for whatever you're hiding."

"i'm not hiding anything, toji."

"uh huh."

shit. it's never a good sign when toji doesn't even try to pretend to believe anything you're saying, and the way he's looking over your face let's you know that he at least suspects you've done something to yourself that he should know about.

you keep your fist to his back as he looks over the rest of your body with a rather relaxed expression, which only means that he doesn't suspect you touching any of his weapons. yet.

you have to keep his attention away from the knife on the table so that he doesn't figure it out.

"can you stop messing around already? i wanna go take a shower," you try to say, but toji doesn't listen.

"turn around f'me."

"huh?"

"huh?" he mimics you, looking at you unimpressed. "turn."

you suck your teeth. "i hate when you get like this."

"and i hate when you lie, now turn."

you grimance. you can't turn around with him looking down at your hand, and you're sure by now that the napkin you hold is coated red. your eye twitches in that moment when you feel a line of blood drip down your wrist.

god dammit. you're so dead.

nonetheless, you try to keep your palm facing inward as you slip it from his back and turn over your left shoulder, which connects to the uninjured hand. the second your back is to him, you bring your bloody hand in front of you.

"yeah, no," you hear toji gruffly say. your heart hammers in your throat and you know what's coming next. he moves around you to wrap his hand around your wrist and tug at it.

you cringe, allowing yourself to accept your fate when he pulls forward your balled up hand.

"open."

"can't we just-"

"open."

you sigh heavily, slowly peeling open your palm to reveal the red-stained napkin balled in it, the line of blood rushing down your inner arm, and the slice that stretches across your hand.

toji's eyes blow wide, and before he asks you anything, he throws his head over his shoulder to locate the knife that sits on the table. "are you fucking kidding me, (y/n)?" he growls, turning back to face you angrily.

"okay, let's not act like this is so crazy!" you immediately defend, throwing your other arm up. "you leave your shit lying around all the time!"

"and every single time, i tell you that i'll take care of it. what the fuck, do i have to go child-proofing the house now because of you?"

"if you would just be more mindful of how you leave your space, you wouldn't even have to worry about shit like this! you shouldn't even have knives lying around in the first place."

"i'm a grown man, (y/n), i know how to avoid cutting myself with the weapons i use daily."

"you're being a prick."

"oh baby, you must not know me because i'm about to be worse," he grunts, eyes heated with fury, and you frown.

"toji, come onnn, it was an accident."

"what do i always say about my weapons, (y/n)?"

"i just wanted to help you put it away, is that so crazy?"

"what. do i say. about my weapons."

you deflate slightly, uneased by the rate at which toji is growing angry with you. "...not to touch them."

"so why the fuck did you touch them?" he growls, picking up the napkin in your palm and tossing it over his shoulder. he looks over your wound and clenches his jaw. "fucking hell, (y/n)."

"look, i'm sorry."

"shut the hell up and come on."

despite his rage, he leads you to the bathoom with surprising care.

when you arrive, he flicks on the light with his free hand and swipes up a cloth from under the sink. he turns to you, pressing it down to your wound to stop the bleeding. once it seems like it's done, he puts the cloth down and turns on the faucet. "put your hand under," he orders, guiding it to the cool water nonetheless.

the water hits your open wound bitterly and you jump, watching the blood run through the drain as toji washes your arm as well.

"sit," he nods over to the bathtub, shutting off the faucet.

you oblige mutely, shuffling over and holding out your hand. you sit slowly on the ledge of the tub and watch as toji shuffles through his cupboards for a bottle of peroxide, some bandages, and ointment. you dread what is coming, for you know your hand is gonna sting like a bitch.

toji thuds over to sit hunched on the closed toilet lid, leaning over to grab your hand again. you stretch your fingers out and he sighs, shaking his head. "so fucking hard-headed," he murmurs.

you watch him screw open the bottle of liquid.

"go slowly," you plead.

"it's gonna hurt all the same, doll," he tells you, and you pout. "you should listen next time, then maybe you wouldn't have to go through this."

"shut the fuck up."

toji clicks his tongue, glancing at you momentarily before leaning down and holding the bottle over you, grasping your wrist loosely with your hand above his knee. "keep still."

the peroxide comes flooding out of the bottle and onto your hand, bubbling instantly over your gash. you whimper, tensing your body and scrunching your eyes at the sting.

"i know," toji mumbles, smoothing his thumb gently over your wrist. "you're alright."

your fingers dig into your thigh as it continues to burn. toji leans over to put down the bottle and continues to caress your arm, lowering your hand to his lap. he blows over your palm slightly as the peroxide dries, and you eventually open your eyes.

"not so bad," he tells you. he leans himself back to reach for a new cloth then pats it around the gash, drying your hand and your arm. he reaches back again for the tube of almost empty ointment he found and twists it open, squeezing it over your wound. "shit, hold on," he stops. he lets you lift your hand as he rushes to wash his own before coming to sit back down at hold yours on his leg again, now with bandages in hand.

you watch him gently as he works the bandage over you with such attentiveness, a dip in his brow proving his focus. you suddenly feel guilty for making him worry.

"i'm sorry," you finally say again, this time with more meaning.

toji's green eyes snap up at you amidst his wrapping. "yeah?"

"i really was just trying to help you. didn't mean to stress you out."

toji sighs, pausing his movements to look you in the eye. "you need to be more careful. i tell you not to touch my stuff because it's not your responsibility. obviously i know you can yourself, but some of my shit's really dangerous and i don't want you gettin' hurt," he gestures to your hand. "it could've been a lot worse, but still."

"if you don't want me touching your weapons, toji, you should probably clean them up more," you quirk a brow and he exhales loudly.

"i'm seeing that now, yeah," he says. "i'll be more careful if you are. don't need my doll getting a bunch of scars 'cause of me, now."

you smile softly. "yeah. i won't touch your stuff anymore, i promise."

"...how about instead i just... teach you how to handle 'em the right way?"

you perk up. "really?"

"i don't see why not. i'd rather you know how to use some of it than see you scrape yourself up because you don't know how to hold a knife."

"don't be a smartass."

toji smirks, continuing with his wrapping of your hand. "i mean it. i'll sit down with you sometime to show you."

"...how about after we're done here?"

"don't fucking push it."

ryomen sukuna: (fever!)

you wake up in a cold sweat, shivering.

you groan in displeasure, rolling over, slightly discombobulated. it can't be any later than 7 am, but you are boiling hot. you press your hand to your forehead and curse. you're sweating profusely and you feel incredibly lightheaded.

you don't even have the energy to get up, but you know that you need to take your temperature. you shudder, carefully shuffling out of bed and wincing as every brush against your skin feels like the stab of a thousand pins and needles.

you lethargically make your way to your bathroom, the cool air hitting your neck and sending you into a fit of shivers. you cling to yourself, teeth chattering, and reach into your cabinet for a thermometer. with half-open eyes, you pop it under your tongue and make your way back to your bed, bundling up in your blankets and curling into a ball.

it feels like hours before the beep resounds, and you slowly lift it from your mouth to read the little digital numbers.

102.4. perfect.

you shudder in pain, tossing the thermometer to the side and nestling your face in your pillows. you feel like absolute shit, but you can't bring yourself to do much else. you need medicine, water, a cool compress, but none of those things you have access to currently.

you close your eyes as your mind swarms, body throbbing and shuddering with chills though the last thing you need is to be cuddled under the covers. you think maybe it will go away if you get some rest. maybe you just need to relax, to take some time in bed. you'll let sukuna know when-

shit! sukuna.

there's no way in hell or on earth that sukuna will allow you to go untreated if you tell him, but god, you don't feel like letting him know. despite his likely haste to make sure you have everything you need, you can only imagine the snarky comments about your fragility, your strange body, your vulnerability that he''ll spout.

you don't want to hear it. you don't want to hear any of it, because you're sure that if you do, you'll start crying. you're already worn down, clearly, and the last thing you need on top of a fever is your boyfriend joking about your weak state.

you elect to stay in bed and tell sukuna you'll see him another time if he pesters you today.

which of course, he does.

a whirlwind of alarming dreams that you almost thought were hallucinations are disrupted by the persistent buzzing of your phone on your dress. you groan, reaching out a shaky hand to blindly grab the device and answer the call, pressing it to your ear with no knowledge of who you're speaking to.

"yes?" you croak.

"can't answer a telephone call the first time it rings?" sukuna's voice thunders through the mic, and you lift your brows.

"kuna?" you try to say his name normally, despite the constant chatter of your teeth.

"who the hell else would it be?"

"sorry... i was asleep."

"at this hour?"

"...what'dy'mean?"

"jesus, woman, it's 2 in the afternoon. why the hell are you still in bed?"

you reel momentarily at his words. 2 pm? it was just 7 in the morning! have you really been sleeping all this time?

"oh..." is all you can manage to say before a chill wracks your body again. you cringe, curling into yourself and holding the phone away from you.

"oh?" the king of curses repeats. "what is the matter with you?"

"n-nothing," you respond quickly. "i guess i was up late last night. i was c-completely knocked out..." you tremble.

"last night you told me you were going to sleep early because you were tired, you brat."

fuckkkk.

how could you have forgotten about that? you hadn't been feeling well last night, which is likely the reason why you feel so much worse today, so you turned in early. "i- couldn't fall asleep until later, though," you mumble.

"you are attempting to deceive me," sukuna grunts. "care to explain why?"

"m'not, kuna," you sigh halfheartedly.

"what exactly do you take me for?"

you're really not in the mood for this. you're aching at this point, and you can tell your body temperature has only risen. you're so weak. you can barely even process the fact that you're on the phone, and you can't handle sukuna's attitude. not if he's not going to help, which you automatically assume that he won't.

"i'm going back to bed," you say softly.

"what do you mean back to bed?!" sukuna fumes. "seriously, what the hell is the matter with you. you sound ill."

"i'm not i-ill."

"then why do you keep stumbling over your words, woman?" he questions, his voice mellowing out into a steady intensity. "what is it now? your monthly plague? whatever you people call allergies?"

this is exactly why you don't want him to know. he handles these things too crudely, as if it's a burden upon his existence. "y-you ask too many damn questions."

"i wouldn't have to if you answered them. now talk."

"i'm fine, sukuna. i'm just gonna go back to sleep."

"you hang up this phone, i'm at your door in two seconds."

"that's impossible."

"try me."

you know he's serious, but you don't have the energy. you can't stay on the phone with him any longer, trying to speak like nothing's wrong. it's cold. so cold, but you're so hot. you're probably drenched in a pool of your own sweat, but you can't feel it. you want to sleep. you just want him to let you sleep.

your vision grows dizzy as you stare ahead, brows arching in discomfort. you think you press the end call button, but you can still hear his voice picking up in urgency... is he shouting? are you even on the phone anymore? you aren't sure.

your vision suddenly drifts into inky blackness as the phone rests beside you on your pillow. the last thing you are aware of before you slip into unconsciousness again is banging at your front door.

sukuna bursts into your apartment mere minutes after you stopped answering him on the phone. he looks about ready to kill, crimson eyes wide and pupils shrunken as he breathes heavily, looking all over your apartment.

he's stomping to your room and throwing the door open when he sees you laying in the bed. "(y/n)!" he barks, searching for some response from you, but all he recieves or nonsensical murmurs.

he moves quickly to the side of your bed and grabs at your shoulder, turning you over to find your sheets drenched and your face tight with discomfort. he falters, heart jerking at the sight. "...the fuck?"

he presses a hand to your sweat-drenched face and furrows his brows in concern. you're hot. too hot for the temperature of a human being, and you're sweating like crazy, mumbling things under your breath in your sleep he can't even hear.

"the fuck did you do?" he grumbles, starting to internally panic. he scrambles to remember what this could be. he knows of plague, of pestilence, so maybe you're suffering some form of that?

hell, he can't tell. not from a glance. he's not even sure if he knows how to help you. you're entirely too hot for him to brush this off like it's nothing, and you passed out in the middle of speaking to him.

he looks over and sees the thermometer on your sheets and leans over to pick it up. the screen reads a high number, which he assumes is the temperature of your body. curious himself, he prods open your jaw and tucks it into your mouth, pressing the button the way you had shown him when you had the flu to reset the time.

"come the fuck on," he growls as seconds tick by before it beeps, and he pulls it from your lips to read 104.7.

he doesn't know how far it is from your usual temp, but he knows it's high. too high.

he's quick to dial uraume for some more information, and the second he hears that you need immediate medical help, he's picking you up and making a run for it without even thinking that uraume can likely help you.

when you wake, you're blinded by nauseating lights blaring down overhead. "ugh," you groan, feeling light and disoriented. you turn your head to the side and blink, to find sukuna's face staring directly at you rather harshly.

you jump slightly, startled. "what-?" you start, scrunching your eyes to adjust to the sight before you. "sukuna? what are you..." you trail off when you realize that you aren't in your house, nor are you at sukuna's estate. instead, you're in a hospital bed hooked up to a series of fluids.

your eyes go wide as you sit up suddenly, only to be hit with a sudden dizzy spell that sends you leaning back into the bed.

"don't move," he orders, and you turn to him in confusion. never would you have expected to see the day that sukuna sits in a chair beside you in a hospital.

"why are we... what happened?"

"apparently you had a high fever," he answers harshly, fist-propping his chin up over his leg. "too high for you to be seen in my care, and too high for you to be lying in bed as though nothing was wrong."

your heart sinks. "how high?"

"when we got here, tipping past 105."

"...are you serious?"

"i had to come bust down your door to make sure you were alive. i put you on an empty roller downstairs because these fucking dumbass doctors can't see me and i had to get their attention so they could notice you. yes, i am serious."

he sounds pissed. and you hardly want to think of what he means by ‘getting their attention.’

"what do you have to say for yourself? for daring to lie to me? for pretending like you weren't on the brink of a much worse fate?"

"...i..."

"you're so lucky you're unwell, girl, because you don't even want to imagine the things i would do to you as punishment for putting yourself in such a ridiculous situation," he growls. "all you had to do was tell me and i would have taken care of it before it got worse."

you blink, almost dumbfounded. you still aren't all there, but you can tell that your fever has gone down significantly. you're no longer sweating and fewer chills wrack your body. "...huh?"

"did that fucking fever scramble your brain or what?" he fumes, eyeing you sharply. "you should have told me."

you part your lips slightly as you look at him. "honestly, sukuna, i didn't think you'd really... i don't know-"

"care?"

"no, not care. i just didn't think you'd handle it well. i didn't even handle it well myself."

"you believe me to be incapable of tending to sickness?"

"no, i just thought you'd like... not take it seriously."

sukuna's eyes darken, and you realize that you may have said the wrong thing. "in what reality would i fail to take any threat to your health seriously, whether you are frail or not?"

"see, that's what i mean. you always have to slip in something about me being frail."

"because you are. as a member of your species. look at where you lay currently," sukuna grimaces. "that is not an insult to you, it's an observation. it's an insult, however, to everyone else who isn't you."

you relax slightly. "then you were actually worried?"

sukuna scoffs. "why the hell do you think i'm sitting in a human hospital with your sick ass right now? i thought we were past you believing i do not concern myself over you."

you suddenly feel foolish, having forced yourself to suffer in your isolation and simultaneously made sukuna, of all people, worry over you.

"hm. feeling foolish, are you?" he says, reading your mind.

"shut up,," you whine, only to clutch your stomach suddenly with a groan. sukuna sighs as he gently eases your head back onto the pillow.

"i told you not to exert yourself. you give me a headache."

"kuna," you mumble.

"what?"

"can you... take me home?"

sukuna raises a brow. "home?"

"to your place," you clarify. "i don't wanna be here. i just want to be with you. want you to hold me."

"you're such a needy thing," he exhales, toying with a strand of your hair as he leans over and gazes gently at you. "you have medications you need to take."

"then bring them with."

"and if you get sick again? you've only been here ten hours."

"ten?!" you exclaim.

"you were very ill, (y/n)."

you groan. "ten is long enough. i hate hospitals. take me home. i feel better anyway, and if i get worse, i’ll just go to uraume."

sukuna sighs, standing slowly. "after i get these tubes out of you without further damaging you, i will take you home," he says, looking over the IVs that you're hooked up to.

you close your eyes tiredly and nod in acceptance. "okay," you murmur.

he grunts. "let me find some damn instructions.”

"kuna," your hand weakly reaches out to catch his wrist and he stops, turning to look down at you.

"what is it?"

you open your eyes to look up at him fondly, exhaustion welling in your gaze. "thank you."

the king of curses clenches his jaw. he smoothes ahead over your now warm forehead and leans over you. "don't do some shit like this again."

[yyuangss]

GIRL TALK ! ( STAR RAIL MEN )

SUMMARY ! march 7th finds out you like someone. and as your best friend, it’s only right that she has to give her input on whether or not she approves of him.

NOTES ! i was in the mood to write something but this was last minute and this was all i could come up with 🤺 may do a part two featuring other star rail men but we will see. part two of girl talk (gepard, dr. ratio, aventurine, and boothill)

TAGS ! reader is not the trailblazer. contains dan heng, caelus, sampo koski, jing yuan, and argenti. feelings are mutual on both ends.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . DAN HENG !

immediately tells you that she already had her suspicions. and now that you confirmed it, it makes her all that more excited. you having a crush on dan heng is just what she expected. she’ll go on and on about how you two would make a great couple because he opens up more to you. now she gets a little sneaky and begins to make up excuses whenever missions come around so that the two of you can go together. it’s her own way of being a mastermind. the more time you two spend together, the closer she is to seeing you and dan heng start dating. yes, march has dubbed herself as your personal wingwoman. so is the duty of being your best friend.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . CAELUS !

of course she finds it cute that you have a crush on caelus. and it all makes sense to her now. she constantly hears you and caelus making the same kind of jokes, watches you two play games together on your phones, and on rare occasions, she’ll find you rummaging through trash cans with caelus. though she doesn’t know why you’d go to such lengths and go through the trash cans with him. admitting your feelings for the newest trailblazer will only make march relentlessly tease you about it in the best way possible. so whenever caelus invites you to join him in whatever shenanigan he has planned for the day, she’ll send a quick wink your way.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . SAMPO KOSKI !

she’s mentally judging you. definitely finds this as a “to each their own” type of situation. out of everyone you guys have met, the one you have feelings for is sampo. march isn’t too fond of him despite how much he has helped them during their time in belobog. she does have a few doubts here and there, but if he’s currently the one who you’re interested in, she’ll go along with it. march has to observe the way he acts before making any big decisions like setting you two up. she can tell the feeling’s mutual by the overly flirtatious comments sent your way or gifts you receive by sampo when visiting belobog again. she’ll sometimes peek over your shoulder and see some messages coming in from him, asking when you’ll come back to see him. she could grow used to him so let her work her magic and you’ll be with him in no time.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . JING YUAN !

the general of the luofu is a tough decision. although she believes he’s a great choice considering his high rank and popularity, it’s also a bit of a downfall. she saw some heavy chemistry between you both back when the express was currently at the luofu. she didn’t have enough time to make some comments but she knew you’d end up having some sort of feelings towards him. she’s only worried about the cons that could come. like the fact jing yuan can become a busy man within seconds. would he make enough time for you? no, he needs to because someone like you deserves it. march refuses to let her best friend settle for anything less than what she’s worth. march can trust that you’ll be in good hands with jing yuan.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . ARGENTI !

it’s a very interesting choice in her opinion. though she understands why you’d end up gaining feelings towards him. it had to be that compliment he gave you the very first time the express met him. “a beauty that was sent by the goddess idrila herself for him to praise”. very poetical that it had the entire crew speechless for a few seconds. march hasn’t stopped bringing it up since that happened because you had never gotten that flustered before. she can only imagine all the other compliments argenti has sent your way when they’re not around. whenever you’re smiling at your phone a little too hard, thinking no one is watching, she’ll head over your way asking if your boyfriend’s the one making you all smiley. march doesn’t even need to be your wingwoman for this one. she knows the knight will handle it all on his own.

[mirohlayo]

F1 DRIVERS SLEEPING WITH YOU

FOR THE FIRST TIME

( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russel, verstappen & ricciardo )

warning : none, full of fluff

note : cutest thing I've ever written (I say that to every fics I write)

─ OSCAR PISTRI

Boy is half excited and half nervous. He's already dreading the moment, imagining all the possible scenarios in his head. What is he supposed to do? Stay on the side of your bed? Wrap his arms around you? Tangle his legs with yours? He's beyond stressed, and the very idea that you don't feel comfortable makes him panic even more. But the relief he felt when you just snuggled up to him. It was just... natural. His arms naturally wrapped around you as he gently stroked your hair, your head on his chest. He was soothed, and couldn't hold back a slight smile, feeling his body warm up, feeling his heart overflowing with love.

─ LANDO NORRIS

He plays it cool, confident, but inside he can't deny the fact that he's slightly panicking. Since the very day he met you, being head over heels for you, he has imagined this scenario hundreds of times. Obviously, he dreamed of finally sleeping with you, feeling your body fit perfectly with his and just being able to cuddle you all night. So when the day finally arrives, he tries to act as he imagined in his head. Both lying on the bed, he didn't wait a single second before pulling you against him, holding you tightly so that you couldn't escape. His cheeks are probably very pink, but it's adorable, just like the way you fell asleep. In each other's arms.

─ CHARLES LECLERC

He comes out of your bathroom after changing into his pajamas, and ends up finding you already ready for sleep, lying in your bed, which is now getting ready to be shared with your boyfriend. This is the first time you're going to sleep together. This information seems to paralyze Charles, who remains planted against the doorframe, not knowing if he should come join you now. You giggle weakly, seeing him completely lost and... a little embarrassed. When he sees you open your arms to encourage him to come join you, he is already nestling his head in the crook of your neck the next second, his arms around your waist. Oh and, no need to add that it was the best night of his life.

─ CARLOS SAINZ

You are already lying in bed, side by side. It must have been a good 5 minutes since you moved, not really knowing what to do. You would love to snuggle up against him, but maybe that's too much for a first night together? That's definitely not what Carlos thinks, who noticed that you were, well... not comfortable in your own bed. He slowly turns towards you, smiling softly at you, as if you were the most beautiful wonder in the world, before pressing your head against his chest, with a gentle gesture. Your body presses against him naturally, as he begins to caress your back lightly. He places a quick kiss on your hair, wishing you both a good night.

─ LEWIS HAMILTON

His heart melts just at the thought of finally being able to sleep with you. To be honest, you were looking forward to this moment, and he too could only think about that. He can't help but think about it every second, until your bodies are finally inches apart, under the warm duvet. Lewis can't wait any longer, sleep already overtaking him. Just your simple presence soothes him. Then, it is in a peaceful silence that your bodies finally touch each other, seeking each other's affection. You quietly close your eyes, relaxed, as he inhales your scent, already feeling himself slipping away into dreams. Best night ever, for sure.

─ GEORGE RUSSEL

The bed is all ready, the sheets are clean and the duvet freshly laundered. You burrow under the covers first, smiling softly at your boyfriend, who in turn slips under the duvet. You are neither too close nor too far, a reasonable distance but your faces close. Enough that you felt the heat coming from each other's bodies. You don't dare disturb the other person, or make the situation uncomfortable, so it's in these positions that you fall asleep. However, George's body ends up unconsciously searching for you in his sleep. His arms ended up wrapping you in a comforting embrace, his head finding a place in the crook of your neck. And a little smile appeared on his face during the night.

─ MAX VERSTAPPEN

He was the one who practically begged you to sleep together. He wanted to spend as much time with you as possible, and above all he wanted to be able to hold you in his arms as long as possible, even at night. So when you were finally free from work and could sleep with him for the first time, he almost jumped for joy. As soon as you set foot on your bed, he had already trapped you in his arms, peppering your face with kisses here and there. It's not even embarrassing, it's just pleasantly adorable and warm. As if you had always slept together since the start of your relationship. And now that your first night together has passed, there won't be another night where he sleeps alone. It's him and you, or he doesn't sleep.

─ DANIEL RICCIARDO

This man is literally always in a good mood, and never really seems stressed. Except when it comes to you, and especially your first night sleeping in the same bed. His heart is pounding, and he can't hide his nervous expression no matter how hard he tries. You can't deny the fact that you're also somewhat stressed. After all, this is one of your first intimate moments. He could tell you were nervous just like him. And that's why he immediately knew how to lighten the atmosphere, by joking about the situation. All your stress is gone as you laugh until you cry, and your boyfriend laughs out loud, savoring the sweet melody of your laughter. And so, tired from laughing too much, you fall asleep deeply, snuggled up warmly against each other.

[luludeluluramblings]

tbh I’m more intrigued by the idea of college-age Reader getting pregnant while unmarried still living in the manor and NO ONE has any idea who the father is (maybe she does, but she’s withholding that for now or maybe he’s not in the picture?) and it’s the biggest freak out ever. that just seems so fucking wild and potentially hilarious to me. and nobody noticing she’s pregnant until she’s farther along? or them finding out randomly?? imagine:

damian: you look pregnant. what is wrong with you.

reader: i am pregnant though

the batfam: ????????!!!!!!!!!! and then she proposes that now that she’s old enough and starting a new chapter in her life raising a baby and all she should just move out! (cue everyone disliked that meme)

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Okay, I think I'm about to become a Pregnancy!Reader writer. Which, I'm not mad about. Kind think it would be fun, but I know the trope isn't for everyone. So, if it’s not your thing, I’m sorry.

A/N: Some of this is based off of things from my own pregnancies.

A/N: Oh, no. Frick, I wanna make this a series now. Check the bottom, cause I have a plot idea for this and I want opinions on it. I spiraled, this was supposed to be a quick blurb. I got carried away. Gonna build up to the yandere shenanigans because I’m turning into a writer with a million WIPs.

A/N: Tagging @skay-ali because I like their The Forgotten Daughter series.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Very minor Yandere Themes (like barely there), minor NSFW, graphic descriptions of pregnancy and medical procedures, Vomiting.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You don't really remember that night it happened. But, it only happened once and after you swore you'd never drink again. The hangover after that night had been one of the worst of your short life.

In fact, the sticky feeling between your legs and bitter taste on your tongue had also added to your decision to swear of these college parties. Luckily, you have enough of your memory to remember that you and your partner from that night had both been willing even when wasted. Even if you couldn't remember their name. Or, their face.

It takes you a while to notice. One missed cycle wasn't anything to freak out about, and it was exam season. The stress had probably caused the nausea. It wasn't until you were heading down to breakfast one morning and smelled the burnt eggs in the kitchen that Stephanie had burnt that you realized something might be wrong.

You, of course, ignore it. It was just a fluke. Burnt eggs weren't appetizing to anyone. But, then you nearly faint walking through the perfume section after looking to restock your favorite bottle of scent.

The doctor you finally went to another week later had asked about your cycle and the last time you had been intimate with someone. That's when the reality of things started to set in. You hadn't even thought to do an at home test to check. Your doctor was kind though, saying they could just do a quick urine sample and blood test just to make sure. It might be something else.

The next few minutes felt like ages. But, when the Doctor came back to tell you the positive results you panicked. Not as in panicked as in you broke down, but you threw up a mask. You're good at doing that. You must get it from your father.

When she asks you if this is good news or bad news you can't help, but blurt that it's good. Great even. Which causes her to beam at you. Before you know it, you're being handed a complementary diaper bag with formula and tiny bottles while being given the rundown on your possible due date and future appointments. You nodded you're head along with the information, sliding the paper's into the diaper bag as she hands them to you.

But, then she turns to you with delight and tells you that the Ultra Sound tech has an opening and you're just far along enough they can do your first ultrasound. It'll only be a thirty minute wait.

After nodding along once more, you go back into the waiting room. Holding your new bag with white knuckles and falling into deep thought.

This is happening. But, how? Are you even fit to be a parent? You've hardly ever been loved. How are you going to love someone else? How are you going to do this? What will the family think? What will your few friends think? You don't even remember who their father is. This is impossible. You're not ready. You'll never be ready. That churning feeling is in your stomach again and you feel that single piece of toast you had for breakfast about to come back up.

The thirty minutes fly by with those thoughts in your head. They still swirl in your head as your go back into the ultrasound room.

It's dark, but the tech had few soft lights on in the room. Its actually kind of... cozy.

What's not cozy it the tech telling you that she's going to stick a wand up your bits so you could see the baby. Your eyes screwing shut at the cold invasive feeling.

But, when you open them, she turns the screen for you to see. It's almost amazing how fast the image appears on the screen.

And, their moving. Actually moving. You end up laughing at the sight, causing the screen to flicker and the little blob to move. When the nurse plays the heart beat you can feel yours stuttering in your chest.

Watching them bounce in there with each laugh, it’s easy for the next words to spill out of your mouth.

“Oh, I’m gonna love you.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Every step after that feels remarkably less lonely. It’s not just you anymore. You have someone who you’re going to love.

You don’t bother telling the Family. Bruce would just lecture you on being reckless while the other’s would judge you for it.

Honestly, you don’t care if they did. This is your baby.

Funnily enough, for a house full of detectives and highly intelligent vigilantes no one actually notices. Not even Cassandra. It’s a bit insulting how much they don’t pay attention. But, your symptoms soon make it so you don’t care.

The waves of exhaustion, the way everything smells strong and certain things make you want to gag. Heartburn that burns your throat. The subtle cravings that make you cry when you can’t fulfill them. Thankfully you finished your exams because you were too tired to even move from your bed most mornings due to strange nightmares.

Eventually, someone does notice. And, it’s not anyone you would expect.

Of all things you cried over on the pantry floor, it had to be salt and vinegar chips. They hadn’t been what you wanted, but it was too late to go get french fries and a smoothie at this hour in Gotham. And, you stuffed them down your throat with angry tears.

It was Stephanie of all people to find you. You gave her a sharp glare when she seemed to grow wide eyed. Normally you avoid her gaze, but you were quite pissed about having chips in your mouth and not fries. As her eyes grew wider, your nose wrinkled in further annoyance at her.

Just as you’re about to tell her off, she speaks.

“Do you— um, want something else?”

It’s pitiful how fast your snarl turns into a pleading pout.

“Yes, please. I want fries. I want Jokerized fries so badly.” You practically blubber when she gives you a pointed nod towards the car garage.

It takes you a bit to get off the floor despite the fact that your bump is hardly noticeable, but Stephanie noticed the extremely subtle curve.

“How far?” She asks hesitantly, looking from the bump to your face.

You also hesitant for a moment, looking up at her with tears on your cheeks and a serious look in your eyes. “14 Weeks.”

Her eyebrows raise and a wiry pout appears on her face. “Damn. You’re smaller than I was at that time, so not fair.”

The slightly surprised that information gives you almost makes you pause. But, if you had you would’ve probably toppled back down to the pantry floor.

“Explain on the way?” You ask, still a bit nervous. The two of you had never been close since you moved into the manor less than a handful of years back.

“Sure.” She grins, leading the way.

As you both walk, she whispers. “Does Bruce know?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Ah.” Stephanie managed to hide the winces from you.

When you two finally make into the car, you’re already feeling better about life. You’re about to have your fries, and possibly a shake too. You didn’t expect to have any company, but surprisingly it’s nice.

Stephanie drives, and get the fries to go. Munching on them as Stephanie drives you back to the manor. Her sharing her own pregnancy experience.

"Wait, so Tim dated you when you were pregnant with another dudes kid? Babe, forget being me being small, you got game."

"Damn right I do." She says smugly, stuffing her own fries in her mouth. "So, um, do you wanna talk about what happened with you?"

And, just like that your mood shifts.

"No."

"Oh- Oh! I'm sorr-" She starts up, and you can tell she's assuming the worst.

"Don't you start, Stephanie." You interrupt with a pointed glare. "I don't want to talk about it because it's none of y'all's business."

That makes her cough on her french fry. "Wait, wait, what do you mean? Don't you want help?"

"Nah, I got it." Comes your stubborn reply, glaring out the window as you dip your fry into the cheesecake milkshake.

"... You should tell Bruce." She suggest after a moment of awkward silence.

"What? So he can ignore his grandchild, too?" Your filter is none existent with your hormones all out of wack.

"He doesn't ignore you-"

"Oh, yes the fuck he does." Your firmly state. Growing a bit heated. "Y'all all figgin do."

Stephanie is about to roll her eyes, chalking your words to you just being unreasonable. But, then the thought starts to creep upon her with each passing building when she realizes this is the first time she's actually hung out with you. Ever.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs to you. The silence falling over you both as the cars continues back to the manor.

"... I'm only forgiving you because you bought my fries..."

"Really?! That's all I had to do?"

"What? I was desperate for this- Wait! Hang on. Stop the car. Stop the car-"

"What? Why?! Are you- OH! Fuck!"

You ended up regurgitating up all the fries you had just eaten. Right into your lap.

"Oooo, that's nasty." Stephanie says, cracking the windows.

"Is it bad that I still want to eat them?" You mumble to her, eyeing the remaining fries.

"Please, please, wait till we get back or I'm gonna hurl, too."

"Fine." Comes your reply. Your eyes drifting shut for a moment. "If you tell anyone I'm gonna tell Cassandra about your crush on her."

"How did you- Frick, you are more like Bruce then I realize." Her voice going from panic to begrudging realization.

"Now, that's offenseive."

"Oh, come on. You're kids gonna have some of Bruce's DNA too."

"Eww. Eww. Don't remind me."

The banter between you both coming back with ease.

When you make it back to the manor, parting ways for the night. You feel at ease. You may have made have finally made a new friend in all this and gained a pillar of support.

As you shower and finish off your fries, you can't help but think about the apartments you had been looking at. Wondering what Stephanie will thinking of your nursery ideas.

Down in the cave, Stephanie slowly walks down the steps. Realizing this might have just gotten complicated.

"You okay, Steph?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Soooooo, what if, and hear me out, wee add some baby daddy drama to this?

A/N: Please note, I write a Reader that DID NOT grow up with the Bat Family, which means we could have some really really juicy drama here. But, we could just keep the options limited to just close friends of the Bat family.

A/N: What do y'all think? Baby Daddy drama? One of the Bat Boys the Daddy? One of the other vigilantes? Should I do a Baby Daddy poll? I just feel like this is an opportunity.

A/N: Also, Stephanie was a teen mom in some comics from my research. Which I think adds to this and gives her a better chance of bonding with Reader until shit goes down.

[pedgito]

↝ ALONE, IN MY MIND (14k words)

Summary: So what if Eddie Munson had a really pretty face, it was just too good not to admire. So what if you liked to draw him in your free time, he definitely didn’t mind. Yet somehow, tutoring him still felt like the most scandalous thing you’ve ever done.

↝ OUR LITTLE SECRET (1.7k words)

Summary: Tardies were becoming a regular occurrence and you couldn’t handle another day of boring detention, but Eddie couldn’t resist the chance to worship you in every way possible. Just be quick, no one had to know.

↝ RENTALS & RECORDS (11k words)

Summary: Eddie can’t hide the fact that he’s sort of obsessed with you, but you can’t deny that you might be secretly obsessed with him too.

↝ FORBIDDEN FRUIT (series — 1, 2, 3, 4)

Summary: You find yourself torn between the idea that even though Eddie is in a position of authority as your professor, he’s still what you crave the most.

↝ DON'T HANG UP (mini-series — 1, 2, 3)

Summary: Eddie’s got a late night bone to pick with you; only one minor sexual inconvenience in the way, but that doesn’t stop you from picking up his call and Eddie doesn’t want to hang up either.

↝ TAKE IT SLOW (3k words)

Summary: It wasn’t your fault your dealer liked to give you special treatment and kiss you in private, those were just the perks of being a very loyal customer, aside from the fact that he was probably falling in love with you.

↝ SCREAM MY NAME (15k words)

Summary: Summer of 96’, fresh off the anniversary of the tragedy that took place one year ago—you and your friend are ready to enjoy your last few days of freedom and fun, but someone has other plans in mind and everyone is fair game.

↝ FAKING IT (12k words)

Summary: Your career was built on luck and fortunate circumstances, but that was bound to run out at some point. Enter Eddie Munson, rockstar extraordinaire, the reason for your life being thrust into chaos—but, fake it til you make it, right?

↝ CAMERA SHY (mini series — 1, 2)

Summary: Eddie’s a popular camboy, along with your best friend Steve. one lucky introduction manages to turn your life upside down, arguably, for the better. 

↝ GET YOUR FIX (5k words)

Summary: Adventures in your shared obsessions of each other and your bodies—and Eddie was insatiable when it came to you.

↝ SIMPLE RULES (unfinished series – 1, 2)

Summary: Eddie doesn’t have his life together any better than the next person, but for his daughter, he fakes it well. Sll he really needed was balance, but he wasn’t sure that even existed—not until you.

OLD MASTERLIST, INCLUDING REQUESTS (1 & 2)

NOTE: I've written like 80+ things for this dude and most of my posts have broken links so this is an attempt at fixing broken links on multiple series that I posted over two years ago, I'm too lazy to go through the process and figured this is easier lmao.

[princessbellecerise]

Husband Jacaerys

Summary ✩ Headcanons about married life with Jace

Warnings ✩ Mentions of pregnancy, smut

Masterlist

SFW

First of all, can we all just agree that Jace is absolutely obsessed with you?

You will never find another man in Westeros more loyal to you than your Lord husband, who practically kisses the ground you walk on

From the day you met to the day you said your vows, Jace is the most doting husband, always listening to you and showering you with affection

Especially with kisses, on your forehead specifically

One of his favorite night time routines is to pull you to his chest, placing a kiss to your forehead before you go to sleep

And speaking of sleep, Jace is SUCH a big cuddler

He loves being your big spoon, just holding you against his chest and keeping you warm. It makes him feel good knowing he’s there to protect you at any given moment

On the days that he has to attend meetings or engage in court, he misses you so much <3 He’s such a simp that literally everyone knows that he’s down bad for you

Daemon will often tease him every time he catches Jace blanking out in meetings, knowing he’s thinking of you

Luke will gag every time Jace kisses you in public, teasing his brother about being whipped for his wife

And every time Jace will go redder than Caraxes, but honestly he doesn’t mind. He’s never afraid to be seeing loving you

When you’re pregnant or when you have kids, he’s so protective over them and you

He loves kissing your belly, admiring how you’re swollen with his children

If needed, Jace will even rub your feet or your back if they’re hurting during your pregnancy. You always tell him that he doesn’t have to, but he insists on making you as comfortable as possible

If you need anything, your husband is quick to get it for you

Even if it’s the middle of the night and you’re craving something like goat cheese and olives then never fear, cause Jace will have it delivered before you can even finish the words

When your children are born, he’s in awe over how perfect they are and he’s literally the best Kepa ever

He’s adamant on teaching his children High Valaryion and how to become dragon riders. As soon as they’re old enough, he’ll take them on Vermax for their first flight and relish in the way they laugh as they cling to him

And of course, he loves riding with you as well

Even if you have your own dragon, Jace prefers going together, loving the way your face lights up as you soar though the clouds

Life as a prince/King can be extremely stressful, so Jace always looks forward to decompressing with you at the end of the day

Taking baths together and just sitting in the warm water talking to you is his favorite

He loves running his hands over your naked body, feeling every crevice as you sit on lap, back to his chest

With you, Jace never feels like he has to pretend and he’s always at his most relaxed

He’s also very vulnerable with you, and you are pretty much the only one that he’ll talk to about his worries and fears

Overall, he’s a very guarded person so the fact that he lets his walls down for you is a sign of just how much he loves you

No matter what, just know that you 100% lucked out and that with Jace, you will always have someone there to love and protect you

NSFW

Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knew how much Prince Jacaerys loved his wife. The Prince was soft and loving towards you in public, and in the bedroom…

Well, just ask an unlucky handmaiden or the guard stationed outside of your room and they’ll tell you: Prince Jacaerys is almost never not making love to you

One of his favorite feelings in the world is to have you wrapped around his cock, underneath him as he fucks you slow and passionately

Deep, messy kisses full of tongue and desperatation are his absolute favorite while he’s rutting into you

Your husband 100% whimpers every time he cums, needing so desperately to fill you with his seed that it’s almost primal

Missionary or mating press are his favorite positions for this very reason, because he loves getting you pregnant

There’s just something about knowing that you’re carrying his heir, his seed and his legacy that lights a fire inside of him

He often times find himself getting lost in the desire to breed you, and afterwards he stays sheathed inside to the hilt so not a single drop can go to waste

But don’t get mistaken; Jace, like any other man, also loves taking you from behind

And more than that, he loves eating your cunt from behind, face messy with slick while he eagerly sucks on your clit

Jace firmly believes that if his wife hasn’t had her fill of pleasure then he doesn’t get to cum

For that very reason, you’re always overstimulated by the time he finally slips inside of you, the pretty little ring of cum that appears around his cock like a badge of honor for Jace <3