#their marriage is definitely being tested

[hylemorph]

Thomas' relationship with masculinity in Nosferatu 2024

Thomas' motivation at the start of the film is financial self-sufficiency in the form of a promotion, and I think this is the starting point for his character arc through the film, which I personally see as a negotiation with the masculine roles available to him. Thomas is clearly embarrassed to be in debt to Friedrich, and paying him back and providing a similar level of comfort to Ellen is important to Thomas (maybe partially because she came from wealth herself). Thomas and Friedrich seem to have a good friendship, but there's definitely a vibe that Friedrich is a superior, and maintaining the correct level of victorian niceties seems to be important in their dynamic. Later in the movie when Friedrich and Ellen are arguing, Friedrich completely side-steps the actual topic (Anna's bite marks and delirium) by taking offence to her "marked tone" and the fact that she isn't performing the conventions of his superiority ("I hope, for your husband's sake, that you learn to comport yourself with the appropriate deference"). Upholding vapid, hierarchical victorian manners is closely aligned with the kind of masculinity Friedrich represents.

Thomas' vulnerability to this kind of masculinity is exploited by Orlok as well. when Thomas arrives at the castle the first night, Orlok has a 'noble host' facade set up with wine and bread for his guest, talking about how his "attendants" have all gone to bed, pretending that he still functions in society as a Count. Orlok demands that Thomas calls him "my lord" and orders him around, testing how far politeness will go to constrain Thomas' reactions to him. Orlok drops the facade pretty quickly, but it's interesting that he bothered to test Thomas at all, and also that he needs Thomas' signature on his covenant - for some reason Orlok needs Thomas' buy-in for his superiority, just like Friedrich does.

If my theory that Orlok/Friedrich and Ellen/Anna are mirrors is valid, then I think Thomas' mirror is the Romani vampire hunter guy. On each of my viewings I was struck by how closely the camera hung on this unnamed side character who is only in the movie for like 5 minutes - why is he emphasized so much? When Thomas arrives at the inn he's exhausted and out of his element, the Romani people crowd around him shouting and dancing, and the shot pans up to this cocky looking guy leaning on a door frame. He cracks up at Thomas' stuffy, befuddled look, and all the other Romani people join in. During the hunt/ritual, he takes on the frontline role and tells everyone to stfu. He's clearly a leader, but not based on any formalized hierarchy.

The vampire hunter represents a different kind of masculinity that Thomas tries to emulate later on. When Thomas says that he'll kill Orlok by driving a cold iron spike through him, he's not referencing anything Von Franz told them, he's planning to do exactly what he saw the vampire hunter do earlier. It probably wouldn't have worked, and maybe the vampire hunter just stabbed a normal corpse, and that kind of masculine role wouldn't have been very authentic to Thomas anyways, but I think it shows that Thomas is trying a new approach. If he can't keep Ellen safe through conventional means, maybe he can win by being raw and bold and decisive. If he had more time with Ellen I believe Thomas would have found a role that was authentic and right for his marriage, because his love was extremely strong and he was able to accept her completely, but it was too late.

[johnsbleu]

Hi lovely

Hanging for your update!

hello! yes update soon! i'm just going to edit it and stuff so maybe thursday?? sometime before the week is over for sure though (at the latest saturday since i'm off and have no plans)

[trickphotography2]

Two Lines

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x female!reader

The last thing Jake expected to see first thing in the morning was a pregnancy test in the trash can. And he definitely didn’t expect a debate with his wife about what those two lines meant. 

Word count: 1.5K

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It took a lot to shock Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin.

Not only had he made it through a military academy, he was a combat pilot who’d seen action in two war zones and had medals to back up his claim that he was one of the Navy’s best.

But the sight of the pink-capped test in the bathroom trashcan had him choking on his toothbrush.

Adrenaline shot through him, waking him up from the half-stupor he’d been in. It was still early before your alarm went off. But you’d been restless all night, tossing and turning and grumbling about what a stupid idea it was to get your work-mandated flu shot at the same time as your COVID booster.

“Not sure why you did it,” he’d teased, brushing the hair from your eyes. “You always feel like crap after.”

“I know,” you whined, curling closer to him even as your body ached and your stomach clenched. “I just needed to get it out of the way, and since I don’t have any clients tomorrow, I figured I could call out sick if I needed to.”

But that didn’t explain the pregnancy test in the trash.

After just under a year of marriage, you weren’t actively trying to get pregnant, but neither were you trying to prevent it. Both of you were in agreement that you’d be happy to have kids if it happened, but you were also satisfied with it being just the two of you for a while, or even forever.

Your period being late wasn’t uncommon, especially when you were stressed. And with the clinic officially understaffed and you taking on a larger client panel while trying to balance groups and to promote to a leadership spot, Jake knew you were stressed. For the first time, he’d seen you working on the weekend to catch up on session notes and submit consults, making sure your clients were getting connected to the services they needed.

The test was probably just for peace of mind, he reasoned, forcing himself to finish brushing his teeth while keeping his eyes on the trashcan. It wasn’t the first time you’d taken one, but it was the first time you hadn’t told him about it… that he knew of. And if you’d thrown it away, it had to be negative. You’d stumbled back to bed just an hour ago after using the bathroom, waking him as you collapsed back onto the mattress and declaring that you were calling in sick. When he’d pulled you to his chest and kissed your forehead, he’d felt your low-grade fever.

Just like he’d expected. It was why he’d stopped at the Commissary on the way home from work, grabbing bananas, applesauce, and bread to make sure you had something to eat while wallowing on the couch between naps.

Besides, he knew he’d be joining you on Saturday - he had his appointment to stop at the base hospital and get his mandatory annual flu shot, too. While it didn’t take him out like it did with you, he’d never pass up an excuse to have a lazy weekend.

With a forced nonchalance that he didn’t feel, Jake put away his toothbrush before reaching for the pregnancy test. Turning it, he saw two lines.

Two lines.

Jake stared, mouth dropping open. His eyes darted from the lines to the diagram on the side of the window, explaining how to interpret the results, feeling a strange sensation of excitement and terror at the confirmation.

Pregnant.

You were pregnant.

Confusion tempered his joy as he set the test on the counter and took a step back, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes to scrub away any lingering sleep. But when his vision cleared, there was no denying it.

Two dark lines.

Grabbing the door handle, Jake forced himself to take a deep breath before walking back into the bedroom. You’d dozed off again, breathing even and face half-hidden by your sleep mask. He’d bought you the first one as a joke when you’d moved in after a week of grumbling when he turned on the lights to get ready for work. While you both left the house at the same time - him to head to the base, and you to the hospital - he enjoyed taking his time with his morning routine, while you preferred hitting the snooze button as many times as possible before sprinting to get ready and out of the house on time.

You groaned when he sat at your hip, planting one hand on the mattress and reaching up to nudge the mask to your forehead. Refusing to open your eyes, you slapped at his hand, “Lea’me alone,” you grumbled.

“You got something to tell me, sweetheart?” he asked, forcing his voice to be even. While he was excited about the pregnancy, if you’d thrown the test away, you might not be.

“‘M not goin’ to work,” you sighed, rolling onto your side and hugging your pillow tightly.

“I know. Anything else?”

“Love you, have a goo’day.” Your words slurred as you started to drift again. When he said your name, a hint of exasperation creeping into his tone, you sighed and rolled onto your back. Kissing the tips of your fingers, you held them up for him. “I feel gross and don’t wanna kiss you in case it’s not the shot.”

“Is that why you took the pregnancy test?” One eye cracked open, and you saw your husband smiling down at you, a slightly manic gleam in his sea-green eyes.

Shrugging, you yawned, “Kinda. But it was negative.” Jake was silent for a long moment, and you felt him place a hand on your stomach.

“Darlin’… the test wasn’t negative.”

“It was.”

Jake barked a laugh. “There are two lines!”

“I know.”

“Two lines is pregnant!”

“Two lines is negative.”

“No, it’s not,” Jake argued. Huffing, you opened both eyes to glare at him.

“I read UAs twice a week at work, Jacob. I know what a negative result looks like.” As the person in charge of the Contingency Management program in your clinic, you administered and read urine drug screens, knowing with a quick glance if there were prescription or illicit substances in your client’s sample. If the two lines popped up for a negative result for their targeted substance - meaning they’d been abstinent - they earned the opportunity to draw for a prize. A single line meant that they had traces of the substance in their system, providing a positive result.

“Maybe for drug tests, but obviously not for a pregnancy test.”

“Move,” you grumbled, bumping your legs against him to get out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Jake asked.

“To prove you wrong.” Chuckling, he stood and smirked when you threw your sleep mask onto your pillow and brushed away the hand he offered to help you out of bed. The bathroom light was still on, and he followed behind you as you picked up the test he’d left on the sink, holding it in front of his face. “See? Two lines. Negative.”

Taking the test, Jake put his thumb over the Not Pregnant example and held it in front of your eyes. “See? Two lines. Pregnant.” He could only smile as your gaze shifted from glaring at him to squinting down at the test - you hadn’t put your glasses on yet. He watched your eyes widen with shock, darting from the instructions to the result window. Your lips parted, but no words escaped as your eyes rose to meet his again. “Say somethin’, sweetheart.”

“Why the FUCK are my POC cups the only damn thing that has a single line as positive?” you demanded.

That startled a laugh out of him, and Jake tossed the test back onto the counter and tugged you into his arms. Your fingers dug into his back, and he could feel you shaking. “You alright, darlin’?”

You were silent for a long moment before sighing, “Just realizin’ that I’m gonna be triple-checking results for a while. It’s gonna make my appointments run so much longer.”

Chuckling, Jake pulled away just far enough to meet your watery gaze. “What about this one? You gonna triple-check it?”

“I mean, you’ve pretty much done it.” An embarrassed smile flit across your mouth. “Is this where you say ‘I told you so’?”

“Pretty sure this is where I say I love you,” Jake replied, leaning down to kiss you softly. Carefully, he backed you up until your ass hit the counter and lifted you onto it. Your legs wrapped around his hips, arms draped across his shoulders as his hands slid under your shirt to wrap around your waist.

“Love you too. You ready to be a daddy?”

“Hell yeah. You ready to be a mama?” The question made you pause, but the steady confidence your husband exuded made you smile. Even if you weren’t quite ready, he would be there to help you get there.

“Yeah,” you said after a moment.

It would take you a couple of weeks to feel confident interpreting the UA results with a glance again, but you even chuckled when you started telling people about the pregnancy, and Jake boasted that he was the one telling you that you were pregnant.

After all, how many fathers got the chance to do that?

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Author's Note: This little fic has been on my mind since yesterday when I had to fill in last minute for our CM clinic when a clinician called out sick, and had to administer and interpret 2 UAs in 30 minutes, then do brief counseling with the gentlemen before going. I've laughed with my friends before about how our POC cups (the same ones in the graphic above) are one of the only tests where two lines is negative.

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[erwinsvow]

knocked up too young and wearing a glittery diamond ring on your left hand, you had settled nicely into the role of mrs. cameron. it wasn’t tough, not a hard position to play in the slightest—rafe, or rather your husband—made everything nice and easy for you.

it seemed like it was his biggest desire come true, making sure you and his little girl were taken care of. he liked it actually, more than he admitted, knowing the two of you were fast asleep in bed when he left for work in the morning, doing nothing but relaxing throughout the day.

in fact, he had decided the second you had tearfully confessed that you were pregnant that this was the sort of life you were meant for, the kind of life he was going to give you. you were so scared, he can remember it like it was yesterday—your watery eyes and wet cheeks, the way your hands shook when you pulled out the test to show him.

“i-i-i’m so sorry, i, i thought the pills were enough, everyone says it’s enough-” you were stammering and crying your way into exhausation, something he definitely didn’t like. 

“s’okay, kid. nothin’ to cry about.” he was formulating his plan already, being proactive in all matters, thinking ahead to marriage licenses and car seats while you stared down at the positive stick in your palm.

“you’re.. you’re not mad, rafe?” the way you look at him, the world stops spinning. why would he be mad?

“hey, s’done,” he says, hands on your shoulders to steady you, bringing you to the edge of the bed to take a seat. he takes the pregnancy test from your hands, looking down at it himself. “it already happened. can’t take it back. no point in cryin’ over it.” 

when you look up with even more tears in your eyes, he’s half convinced he’s said the wrong thing—but it doesn’t faze him, he keeps going.

“hey, hey. what, you thought i wouldn’t take care of you? this is my kid too.”

“i know, i just, i thought you wouldn’t be okay.. with it. having it.” that’s the first and only time he got stern with you through this whole pregnancy.

“hey, don’t talk like that. this is our baby. there’s no question ‘bout havin’ it.” you nod up at him, tears drying as you steady yourself, regain a little composure knowing rafe’s not mad about this little accident. “y’okay now?” you nod again. “good, call your parents. tell ‘em we’re getting married soon.” 

“wh-rafe!” 

but, like how most things were with rafe, he called the shots and you listened. the two of you got married shortly after, before you were even showing. anyone who even attempted to comment on the hastiness of everything shut up the second rafe stared at them.

you’d be a liar to say you didn’t like it, a fool if you didn’t appreciate how rafe was to you.

he stepped up in every way, better than you could have even tried to put together in your imagination. a place was purchased and had slowly started to become home, with a crib that rafe assembled by himself—though it had taken hours and ended up with the instruction papers all crumbled up in a corner—and baby proofed cabinets and sockets. you laugh watching rafe try to install the baby gate on the staircase.

“you know that’s for when they start crawling, right?” you giggle, a hand on your very pregnant belly.

“shut up. m’being proactive. gonna have no time once she actually gets here and we’re runnin’ around changing diapers and makin’ formula and shit.” 

you’re only a touch surprised with how well-versed he is with all the baby stuff, though you appreciate it more and more since you’re still a little confused and overwhelmed. he makes it all easy, from the pregnancy cravings he runs around to find for you to the pretty pink walls in the nursery. he even satisfies all your other cravings, like around month six when there was nothing you wanted more than rafe's dick in every position you could think of.

when his daughter actually comes into the world, the two of you are a mess of emotions and thoughts, but there’s only one rafe really cares about. when can he give you another one?

it doesn’t take long for him to start trying again—trying to convince you that the two of you can handle two, that little kids need siblings their age. the baby’s only six months old but he’s convinced it’ll be better to have them all young at the same time rather than waiting—at least that’s the line he feeds you.

“no, rafe, they’re gonna be like irish twins. it’s so embarassing,” you say next to him in bed, staring up at your husband. 

“what’s that?”

“when you have two babies that aren’t even a year apart.”

“oh. that’s a thing? good, at least there’s a name for it. i’ll get you a book on it, since that’s what we’re doin’.”

and try as you might, even you can’t resist rafe for long, not when he’s taking such good care of you and just wants to give you another baby with his blue eyes and your pretty hair. you end up in the same position that got you into this whole situation—your knees folded to your chest and eyes rolling back while rafe slams into you. 

“don’t worry, baby,” he breathes into your ear, low and quiet since the baby’s sleeping in the other room. “i’ll get y’knocked up again. won’t have to think about a thing in this world except my kids.”

it’s a shame you get pregnant so quickly—rafe was so fun when his only thought revolved around fucking you full of his cum. 

“well, s’not gonna be irish twins. too far apart,” rafe says, looking at the photos from the doctor’s appointment.

“no, it’s just regular twins.” you don’t think you’ve ever seen rafe so happy.

[leqonsluv3r]

Can I pls request one where Leon is obsessed with his wife’s small baby bump? Like especially when she wears dresses he just can’t stop staring 🧎‍♀️🌸

baby blues

—re4!leon kennedy!husband x pregnant wife!reader

— a oneshot (request)

warnings: MDNI, 18+, a lot of fluff, leon being the best baby daddy out there, reader kind of hates being pregnant at times, reader deals with some body issues and how their body is changing, leon is so sweet and supportive, gives cocky hot dad vibes, mentions of pregnancy pain, oral (f receiving), breast play, lots of kissing and praise, mentions of past sex, mentions of doctors offices, cursing, leon and reader being the cutest little husband and wife out there.

“you had tried. tried stretching, tried taking a pill and had tried sleeping. but everything hurt. everything. your feet, your head, your back and especially your breasts. it felt like something was tugging and poking at all the soft parts of your body. it was torture, almost. if there wasn’t a handsome man next to you, rubbing your back as you laid on your side. leon dulled the ache a little, he looked at you still like the day he met you four years ago, even when you were pregnant, fat and you felt like death had taken over certain parts of your body. leon still looked at you like you were the most precious thing. and it made you wanna cry, scream and kiss him all at the same time.”

— or reader gets pregnant and tries to come to terms with it and leon has no problem helping her out

masterlist taglist

an: thank you for the request anon <33 hope you enjoy it. this was such a cute little thing to write. might make a headcanon list soon just for this specific request :,)

you and leon had talked about kids, about babies.

about the joy it would bring both of you to have something made by the two of you. to make you both enjoy the ties of your marriage and love.

you, however didn’t expect to get pregnant so soon after your marriage. but leon…leon was hard to resist and your body craved him and it was your choice. a choice that you made over and over and over again.

until two lines changed his life and yours entirely, it was hard ignore how the both of you panicked. the excitement, nerves and the rushing of your heart beating accelerated as you stared at the test…four month ago.

you both had been so careful, so very careful, but in one night of heated touches and sloppy kisses, you decided to fuck the condom and just deal. thinking the birth control you took would be enough, but it…it was not. definitely not.

you dealt with being pregnant like a champ, or tried to. you were sore now, you were fatter and you felt like a truck had hit you when you simply moved to grab something.

you loved the idea of carrying a child in retrospect, when leon had pounded you into the mattress many times before, thinking and muttering all the obscene words and images about breeding you. you literally keened at the idea, but now, now that you were here and doing it, you wanted to rip this kid out of you.

you hurt every moment of everyday, you were tired and hungry and whenever you saw that stupid ASPCA commercial on the tv with the dogs, you started bawling like a child. it was obnoxious and to think it would only get more strenuous as the moments that passed was literal torture.

and the doctors appointments, the vitamins you had to take and the way your body changed. it was a lot to handle, you had leon. you had him to help but sometimes it didn’t feel like it was enough. you couldn’t dress like you usually did anymore and could only wear the sundresses and other dresses you had hanging in your closet.

it felt like you were playing dress up, but it was the only thing you were comfortable in these days. the only thing that fit over the bump. the only thing that made you feel pretty and not like an inflated blimp.

and the one thing besides the pain, the bloating and the never ending amount of morning sickness you’ve had to deal with…the one thing you held onto was by the end of it you would get to be a mom. leon would get to be a dad, that was the only thing that kept you tethered to reality these days.

but leon enjoyed the sight of you in your dresses, that was one thing that also kept you tethered. the way he still ate you alive with his eyes, scouring you still as if you haven’t changed at all. you would always find his blue eyes piercing into your pregnant frame whenever you’d slip on a dress for the day or when you were bare and just got out of the shower.

it made you more aroused then usual, the only thing worse was the leon never acted on it. he never once stopped you and brought you to your guys bedroom. he never offered to eat you out anymore. you didn’t know why he was staring but wouldn’t act. was he worried that he’d hurt you? or the baby? you didn’t know, you had no clue.

but it was festering, each look he gave you in your pretty little dresses with your bump of pregnancy was making your skin hotter everyday. you didn’t know how much longer of this pregnancy you could take if he didn’t act on his desires. most importantly, your own.

two weeks, later and your sick of everything.

your sick of walking, your back pain, the peeing every five minutes. just everything makes you annoyed or feel like your going to crawl out of your own skin. you don’t get comfort in bed, you toss and turn. you’re then frustrated because you can’t sleep on your stomach, you wanna rip this baby out of you and it’s only the four month mark.

leon is a saint though. he’s bringing you food, rubbing your feet, holding your hair back when you throw up from the morning sickness. you feel bad for being such a bitch, for being so mean and hormonal. you try not to snap or throw a hissy fit.

but it’s hard.

you’re also sick of the doctor asking you twenty million questions when you go to your next appointment. already fed up from lack of sleep and your bowel movements. the baby is healthy, so everyone is happy. just not you.

another thing, leon keeps eyeing you and basically fucking you with his eyes. another thing that’s just adding up into your short limit of patience. you wanna scream at him to just fuck you, do something. you need a release. and if you could do it on your own, you would. but you can’t even see over your stomach or much less reach it.

so your just stuck feeling pent up and frustrated with everything. until one day, one day you just snap. you just lose your shit. you don’t remember what really caused it to happen, maybe it was the fact that you saw leon wearing only a towel after his shower, practically making you drool.

but you lost it. you just lost it, for absolutely no reason at all.

“can you stop looking at me like that?” you say softly as you look over at him, your being patient, so patient at this point and it makes you wanna scream or cry. he’s digging for something in your shared dresser drawer at this point, minding his own business.

leon looks behind him, over his shoulder to where you sit on the bed. he raises a small brow, “i’m not even looking at you, baby. i’m getting clothes.” he says with a small hint of amusement in his voice.

“you know what i mean, leon.” you say in a annoyed tone as you shift on the bed, the many pillows for your back pain and a heating pad pressed up against it. you opted for a t-shirt of his and underwear, the only two things besides dresses that you could really stand these days.

he grabs his boxers and takes off his towel, you try to ignore the arousal that’s literally pooling uncomfortably in your underwear as you see it. your trying to stay annoyed, stay focused, but his dick is just right there. so far out of your reach but so close and you just want to pounce on him.

“i can’t stare at my beautiful wife now?” he says with a small notch in his brow, pulling his boxers up over his dick, making you disappointed and snap back into what was currently happening. you huff and rub your bump, shifting against the heating pad and pillows.

“no, you can.” you say with a small glare in his direction, “but if your not gonna do something about it, i’d rather you tell me then just…” you trail off when he crawls on the bed next to you, sitting beside you. “angel, you have something you wanna share with me?” he says in that low and intimate tone that gets your insides all bubbly.

you gnaw on your bottom lip in contemplation, “no. i don’t.” he chuckles lowly and moves even closer to you on the bed, putting his hand on your thigh and squeezing. “i hardly believe that, baby. no offense.” he says softly as he presses a kiss to your ear.

you were going to jump him if he didn’t stop this, he was teasing you. he had to be, it was ridiculous that he couldn’t even see how miserable this was making you. “can you just…?” you start and fail pathetically as you try to squirm into his touch more on your thigh.

“can i just what?” he says in a soft timbre into your ear, almost daring and pushing you to say it. to ask. you were beyond irritated and wound up now. everything hurt and your body felt hot. “can you please touch me?” you say softly, you sound whiney and desperate and it’s nothing like you. but a part of you really didn’t care anymore.

you hormonal, achy and moody beyond relief. you just wanted him to touch you, to fuck you even. it was getting annoying how much your body had craved him since you became pregnant.

he didn’t move his hand from your thigh, his breath still ghosting over your ear and the side of your face. “i am touching you, love.” he says with an arrogant smirk against your skin.

arrogant bastard. you thought to yourself, you were brazen in the moment. “it hurts, leon. just…please?” you practically whined in that moment, you didn’t like the teasing. not when your patience was already short enough as it was.

he pressed a tender kiss to the side of your head, “what hurts, baby?” he says softly as he rubs his hand up her thigh and over her bump, soothing tender circles over your body and the baby beneath.

you don’t even care anymore, the soothing feeling of his hand over your t-shirt was enough. your cheeks were red though and you guided his hand up to your swollen breasts beneath your (his) t-shirt that you wore.

“oh, honey.” he sighs softly in a contented whisper against your head, pressing a small kiss to your hairline. he doesn’t move his hand on one of your swollen breasts, just rests his hand there as if he’s just supporting it with his large hand over the fabric.

“leon…please, it hurts.” you hear yourself breathe out in a whimper, one of pain or of desire, you didn’t know. you didn’t care to know right now. “hold on, hold on.” he mumbled softly as he shifted next to you, getting closer to your side, he adjusted himself on the pillows next to you.

“can’t deny my pretty little wife. can i?” he says into your ear with a small nip as his hand squeezed and kneaded one of your swollen breasts. you couldn’t help the sound that came out of you, a mix of relief and desire that you didn’t know you could make.

he moves his lips to press against your neck, nipping and licking as he kneads your breasts, trying to make the pain subside as you moan. “feels s’good…” you mumble in between small noises.

“i know, i know. sorry, for teasing you all this time.” he mumbles into your neck, “gotta stop teasing you…” he mumbles again in between kisses as he presses one more kiss under your ear.

his hands working up your swollen and aching breasts, you could feel your panties practically dripping with release. you grab at his bicep, curling around the muscle there for balance. “please…” you whimper softly.

he moves his lips up to your ear, “what do you want? use your words, baby.” he nips at your earlobe and keeps kneading your breasts, alleviating some of the ache there.

you grip down on his bicep harder, your hormones from the pregnancy were going crazy at his touch. “anything…something, please.” you whine softly near his ear as you almost draw blood. you just needed a release and you weren’t going to get far with him kneading your breasts.

“how about i eat out that pretty pussy? hmm?” he practically purrs into your ear as one of his hands leads down from your breasts to beneath the covers. your soaked underwear beneath your rotund belly, he finds it. an amusing sound leaving his mouth at your ear, tracing the pads of his fingers over your wet slit of your underwear.

his words and his touches having a disastrous affect on your pregnant body, you felt like a match that he was striking with flame and then putting out. it was so much in the best way possible.

you just nod rapidly, emitting a small whine as you clutch his bare bicep harder. “okay, pretty girl.” he presses another kiss to your ear, smirking to himself. he traces your wet slit again, marveling at how soaked you were for him.

“practically drenching your underwear, this all for me?” he muses as he pulls back on the bed next to you, pushing the covers back from your body. your hand falling down to the sheets beneath you, “yes…” you manage to get out as he clicks his tongue. a growl almost rose from his mouth as he gets farther back on the bed, moving in between your knees.

he sees the wet patch that’s soaking your underwear, he knew you were hormonal from the pregnancy. but god, how much arousal could form just from you looking at him? it needed to be studied, but he couldn’t help but feel his ego and confidence inflate.

your bodies reaction to him would always be something he’d never get tired of. especially now when you were drenching your pretty panties.

“fuck, baby. missed this sweet pussy.” he rasps as he looks up at you with hooded blue eyes, his pupils dilated. you knew that look well enough to know that he was going to give you what you both wanted.

release.

you mewl, “please, leon. don’t wanna beg…” you try to reach down to yank his hands or his head closer but your pregnant belly stops you. he puts a hand on the inside of your thigh, “no begging required. i’m going to eat out my pretty pregnant wife. i’m hungry anyways.” he smirks devilishly as he massage the meat of your thigh.

he doesn’t waste anytime, your head hits the mountains of pillows behind you. your chest rising and falling fast beneath his t-shirt that your wearing. his hands come up to the waist band of your underwear and slowly pull them down over your hips and bent legs.

your bare pussy is on display now and you feel the cold air hit your most private parts, ones that he’s seen before but now…now that you were pregnant and carrying his child…things were different. you looked more delicious now, looked more like he could eat you out for days. eat you and fuck you until the baby came.

god help him.

he doesn’t waste anytime, none whatsoever. he’s going to give you what you want. he rubs his fingers through your arousal, spreading it everywhere and teasing you just a bit longer.

you whine, “leon, please…just stop. i want it.” he looks up at you from where he’s laying on the mattress in between your bent legs. “i know baby, just admiring how beautiful you are…everywhere.” he smirks to himself and presses a kiss to the hood of your clit.

you moan a little, he clicks his tongue. “so sensitive.” he muses, “good to know some things never change after pregnancy.” he whispers as he presses another kiss to your clit.

“fuck…leon…” you whine softly, clenching the sheets beneath you. your hormone fueled body making you out to be this whiny monster.

he just chuckles against the skin of your dripping pussy, “just sit back and relax, sweet girl. i’ve got you.” he says as he runs his hands up to the sides of your hips, holding you steady as he dips his head down.

he starts licking a long stripe up from your drenched opening to your clit, your head tilting back as you moan loudly. you never failed to amaze him, get him hard and all worked up. you both had that affect on each other, good to know it was still intact.

how had leon not done this yet? not touched you this way yet when you’d been pregnant? you were like putty in his hands right now.

he felt like an idiot.

a large one. 

he stuck his tongue into your soaked opening and licked, fucking you with his tongue as you clenched the sheets harder beneath you. “fuck, want…uhh, so fucking good!” you moan loudly, practically screaming.

he just keeps fucking you with his tongue, almost rutting his boxer clad erection into the mattress. he reached one hand down to rub his thumb over your clit, still fucking you with his tongue.

your back arches a little, as much as it can without you hurting yourself. a white knuckled grip on the mattress is all you have as he ravishes you, keeps his tongue and fingers working you into oblivion as you writhe and moan underneath him.

“leon! uhh…fuck…” you babble nonsense as you feel the coil start to build in your lower abdomen, you had never come this fast before. but the fact that you were pent up, more hormonal then usual and he was working you open with his skilled mouth and fingers…

you were fucked, figuratively and literally.

he took his tongue out of your opening moving the finger that was on your clit, down to your soaked opening. his fingers working you open now, sliding one in which causes you to release a long moan, his name rolling off of your tongue.

his mouth attaching itself to your clit and licking, sucking and swirling his tongue. he was smirking as he did it. knowing that he was gonna feel you come all over his fingers and face.

he could do this forever, keep you pregnant forever just so he could hear those pretty little sounds you made when you’d fall apart beneath him.

he kept moving his pointer finger in and out, swirling his tongue over your swollen clit as you moaned obscenely, thanking god and him and his mouth.

“just…yes! fuck! gonna cum!” you babble again, losing all rational thoughts as he continued to lick and rub and finger you. you felt helpless under his touch, but in the best way. the way that made you and the unborn baby inside of you feel safe and cherished, loved even.

he just kept it up, only breaking his licking at your clit to talk you through it, “good girl, pretty little wife gonna cum all over my fingers? huh?” he says with a raspy voice, his lips stained in a gloss of your arousal.

you moan softly in response and nod, your eyes fluttering open and shut, your pussy clenching around his fingers. pulling them out just to push another long inside of you and curl your fingers upwards until he found your magic spot.

you whine at that, smacking a hand down on the sheets underneath you. “there it is…” he muses in a low tone, “good girl, maybe if your really nice i’ll pump another baby into you tomorrow.” he says with a smirk.

you moan, “fuck…yes!” you yell out, the idea of him fucking you and promising to get you even more pregnant…it was making that band inside of you get closer to snapping.

“you’d like that wouldn’t you? filling you up with my big cock and pumping you full of my cum?” he teases as he keeps fucking you with his two fingers, the noise of your arousal would normally be a turn off but you were so close to release that you didn’t care anymore.

you moaned and nodded dumbly in response, his free hand sliding from your hip to rub over the swell of your belly. “pump another baby into you, fuck, you’d love that.” he says lowly.

“i-i would…fuck, want more babies…” you whine softly as you writhe more, some tears leaking out of your eyes. he almost growls at that, pumping his fingers harder inside of you and rubbing that sweet spot that makes you see stars.

he knew you were close, knew you were going to reach that point that made you all blissed out and needy. “cmon baby, come all over my fingers. know you can.” he encouraged with a kiss to your clit, his free hand still rubbing over your belly.

all it took was him talking more, working you up with his sweet words and his fingers hitting the mark over and over again inside of you. you moaned loudly, clenching around his fingers. your release coating all over his digits.

he didn’t say anything, just worked you through it until overstimulation set in, removing his fingers from you. he brought them both up and licked the release from his fingers.

you watched him with undivided attention, your eyes lazily opening and closing in the haze of your orgasm. he smiled softly and crawled from in between your legs to rest over you, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“don’t you ever think for one second that i don’t want to fuck you, taste you or do that. i love you and i love making you fall apart. you being pregnant…has nothing to do with me holding off.” he says in a reassurance, pressing another small kiss to your lips.

being mindful as he leaned over you not to disturb the bump of your belly. your eyes locked on his as he looked down at you, “i’ve just been stressed and on edge with prepping for the baby. it’s had absolutely nothing to do with you being pregnant.” he says softly, reaching a hand up and running it through the hair at the base of your skull.

“your so beautiful, so fucking beautiful. i know you don’t see it these days. but you are even hotter now that your carrying my baby, our baby.” he explains with a gentle smile, making some water prick into your eyes.

“so don’t think for one second that i find you unattractive or that i’m teasing you on purpose.” he says with another small peck to your lips, “you understand me?”

you nod slowly as you look up at him, blinking the small amount of water away from your eyes. you should’ve never doubted him, should’ve never thought that about yourself.

and he hated that, hated that he made you doubt yourself and your body for one second. you were so beautiful, you were his and he loved you. he had loved you long before you both spoke your vows in front of god and each other.

he loved you so much, as much as you loved him. so he rolled off from hovering on top to you, cuddling his body next to yours, letting himself wrap his strong arms around your pregnant body.

he wanted to hold you close to his heart, he always did inside. he always kept you there because that’s where you deserved to be. you were his wife and the mother of his (soon to be) child.

he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, pulling the covers back up over you and him, cuddling you close. his hand rubbing over your belly with the fabric of his own t-shirt covering it. “your so very beautiful, baby. i love you so much. even when you don’t see it.” he says against the side of your head, pressing another kiss there.

you melted into his arms, your eyes fluttering close in exhaustion and in content. you didn’t feel so insecure and anxious anymore. you knew that he had been off, but he was just as stressed as you. he had to be, you were going to be a mom and he was going to be a dad.

it was a lot of pressure.

but as long as you both had each other, you knew you guys could do it. the rings on your hands symbolizing the best and worst parts of you and him, the parts that you accepted and promised to love forever.

and with him, it would never be scary. not if you had a husband like leon, and he would love you just as much as the baby inside of you.

it was a part of both of you, that could never be unloved. not if either of you had anything to say about it.

an: hope you guys enjoy. i couldn’t deny a double upload this week, my bad lol. i love you guys so much and i hope you enjoyed. happy friday!! i’m gonna be opening my requests again soon. i wrote this when i was ovulating so no harsh judgement. please reblog and like, kisses. xx.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl (if you wanna be on my taglist interact with the link at the beginning)



[wisecura]

Sweeter

SatoSugu x f!Reader p.1 - 4k (technically SFW, but the next chapter not so much)

summary: entering high school only to be met with the two hottest strongest sorcerers of your generation was not something you were prepared for. so, what happens when they take a strange liking to their cute, sheltered underclassman?

an: thank you for this request! I've definitely dabbled in this concept before, and I have plans to do another similar to this but a lot meaner. I really like the color orange.

MINORS DNI AFTER HERE warnings: pwp (lots of plot, lots of porn), small age gap (first year and third years - no sex between minors), arranged marriage, poly relationship, possessive undertones, manipulative undertones, manipulative, some gaslighting, immature (sheltered) reader,

and a part 2?

“What kind of man is your type?” 

You stare in stunned silence, the question barely registering in your head. Seriously, it was just your second day at Jujutsu Tech, and here you were, face-to-face with possibly the two hottest guys you'd ever laid eyes on. 

And they're clearly having some kind of fun with the newbie. Is this some sort of unofficial welcome ritual for underclassmen or just plain old hazing?

That's one hell of a question to drop on someone, especially since, if you really had to choose, your type would probably be a perfect mix of the two heartthrobs standing in front of you. I mean, come on, they were drop-dead gorgeous���definitely not the type you’d expect to bump into in a high school corridor. They looked more like they'd walked off a fashion shoot or something.

"Yo—" You choked on your words, and you quickly turned your head, feeling your cheeks warm up with a shy blush.

“Uhm…my kind of man? I like someone who’s strong...and, uhm…hot.”

The white-haired one hummed thoughtfully, sharing a quick glance with Mr. Manbun. His eyes were the bluest you'd ever seen, flashing even behind his glasses. And the other's eyes—were they actually purple? Is that even a natural eye color?

Their silent exchange felt like an entire conversation, and somehow, it encouraged you to keep going.

"I-I mean like muscular? Wait no—more like, a lifelong partner? Someone who can take care of me—a good listener, y’know?"

As you rambled on, you could feel your cheeks burning up, and you shuffled your feet, unable to stand still. They both chuckled at your nervousness, catching you off guard—and then, they finally introduced themselves.

"I'm Satoru Gojo," said one with a wink that sent your heart racing.

"And I'm Suguru Geto," added the other, his voice so deep that you found yourself looking away.

They didn't explain the earlier questioning, but whatever test they had in mind, you must've passed with flying colors. From that day on, Satoru and Suguru seemed to appear just about everywhere you went.

You hadn't expected to see them much after that initial interaction, but they seemed to show up in the weirdest places. You’d see them walking in the hallways, despite their classes being across the school, near vending machines that you frequented, and even by the park you sat at with your classmates. 

And soon enough, they started 'accidentally' stumbling into your classes, drawing exasperated sighs from your teachers as they casually plopped down on either side of you. Interjecting themselves into the conversations you had, placing themselves into every facet of your life–present in every second of your free time. You couldn’t even feign surprise when they began showing up at your training sessions, taking a special interest in your improvements as a sorcerer. 

"Need a sparring partner?" Satoru flashed an easy grin as he slung an arm casually across your shoulders–another new development you noticed since they began seeing you more often: the touches. Suguru was never far behind, within fingers' length. Inches away, never as touchy as Satoru, but he had his moments. Whether it was both Satoru and Suguru together or just one of them, you could always expect not to be alone. 

And after asking around–hearing the whispers from those around you, you learned that Satoru and Suguru were the strongest in the school. It wasn't just impressive—it was downright intimidating. Satoru, in particular, was regarded as the strongest of his generation, a reputation that added an extra layer of awe—and pressure—to your interactions. 

You, hailing from a small, conservatively raised clan, couldn’t help but feel like you were playing in an entirely different league.

Before coming to school, your knowledge of cursed techniques was minimal at best. Your clan, lacking the wealth and influence of the more prominent families, hadn’t provided much in the way of advanced training. In fact, the notion of attending an actual school, rather than being homeschooled like many others in your clan, took everyone by surprise—especially you.

In your clan, the rules for girls were pretty clear-cut: get married and start having kids as soon as you hit eighteen. The cultural expectations had always hovered over you like a predetermined fate, yet you'd begged and begged anyways. And here you were—after many threats to refuse marriage, to run away, threatening to do the most drastic things—finally at school.

That to say, your clan wasn't much for affectionate and loving gestures. You'd never known close friendships, and you had no clue how to interact with the two. Yet despite this, Satoru and Suguru were ridiculously warm and almost overly affectionate towards you. They weren't just friendly; they took it to another level—constantly teasing you, never enough to push you away–just enough to make you flush red and smack an arm or two. 

They were like your personal bodyguards, stepping in to shield you from what they thought were unfair missions, always keeping an eye out during your training sessions or interactions with the higher ups. They even went as far as syncing their schedules with yours—just so they could be there for you whenever you needed.They always made sure to include you in their conversations, valued your opinions, and weren't shy about asking plenty of personal questions, drawing you into their circle so effortlessly–it felt like you'd always been a part of the duo. And despite the gap in experience and power, they never made you feel lesser, or spoke down to you.

When it came to physical affection, they never shied away from it–hugs quickly became the norm—just another part of your daily interactions. Almost as frequent as the lingering touches that seemed to pop up out of nowhere, the casual sharing of food and drinks, and those silly moments when they’d playfully feed you a bite of their lunch or coax you into sitting on their laps, arms wrapped around your waist. 

And honestly, you didn’t mind their presence much. Despite the constant teasing, the constant presence in your life, and the overt clinginess, you really couldn't compare it with anything else–so you chalked it down to normal. Growing up in a clan that wasn’t big on hugs and kisses, you kind of assumed their touchy-feely behavior was just how friends acted, so you didn’t make a big deal about it—even when they would get really close, snuggling into the crook of your neck, or planting small pecks in random places. Normal. This was normal. 

And it worked that way for a while... It wasn’t until some of your classmates pointed out how odd it seemed that you were so close to the untouchable duo. How they hadn't shown much interest in anyone else, and from afar it looked more like they were caring for a well groomed pet than a  friend. 

You tried to fit in, not wanting to be seen as the odd one out by your classmates, and as you grew more self-conscious, you did start to pull back a bit. But the more you retreated, the more pushy they became–your dynamic so intertwined with your everyday life, it was like pulling teeth.

You found yourself constantly dodging the snacks they pushed toward your mouth, slipping out from under the arms they kept throwing around your shoulders. You even started keeping details about your life more guarded, trying to maintain some personal space. Despite your best efforts to distance yourself, Satoru and Suguru had grown too attached, finally deciding to confront you about your newfound evasiveness when they couldn’t take it anymore.

As you once again shrugged off another arm from your shoulder, Satoru and Suguru halted, turning to you with a look of concern. "What’s up with you lately? You seem really tense. Is something bothering you?"

Satoru’s voice carried the softness of genuine concern, but there was a deliberate persistence behind his words. Probing, searching. Suguru joined in, his tone echoing Satoru's worry, yet there was a subtle tint to sound teasing, not wanting to ruin the good mood. "You’ve been pretty distant lately. It’s not like you. You're not feeling left out, are you?"

As you tried to put more space between you and them, voicing that you just didn't feel good, Satoru pulled you slightly closer, his grip firm, as if to physically manifest a will for you to stop pulling away. "Look, if something’s wrong, you should tell us. We’re your friends, we’re here for you. 

And this is what finally led to you opening up about the comments your friends were making, but now Satoru and Suguru were visibly upset. You knew Satoru well enough to expect his dramatic flair—he was always the louder, more expressive one. But Suguru? His irritation was something you hadn't seen before. 

"They’re saying what now? So, your little 'friends' are harassing you? Is that it?" Suguru’s voice was icy, his eyebrows knitting together in a rare show of displeasure. You couldn’t picture the words coming from his lips, but here they were. 

“Hmpf” a puzzled look crossing your face, “I wouldn’t say harassed, just—“ 

“Oh c’mon, princess, you don’t need to defend them,” Satoru interjected quickly, pulling you close, settling you into his lap with a swift motion. You stumbled slightly but found stability as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, losing the desire to really pull back. 

"You know, we're just looking out for you," Satoru continued, his voice softening, rubbing his chin over your head like an overgrown cat. "People can get the wrong idea, but they don't understand how close we are."

Suguru nodded, "Exactly. It’s normal for us, right? This is how we've always been with each other. They just aren't part of our circle, are they?"

After that conversation, you hardly heard a peep from anyone else about your friendship with the two. The only difference in your relationship between you three, seemed to be the fact that the two became even more relentlessly clingy. 

They began popping up on your dual missions,  offering help so you could 'finish up faster,' only to whisk you away for yet another impromptu bakery date.  Picking up things from their missions, using the money they had to buy you expensive presents, always ensuring you took care of yourself. They spoiled you rotten,and really, you couldn’t find it in your heart to be annoyed—they were just so committed to keeping you safe and well-fed. And If they said your friendship was normal, then who should you believe?

They were super protective, almost to a fault. No one else was really allowed to hang with your little crew without getting some serious side-eye or a snappy comment from them. It felt like they saw everyone else as the enemy, but when it came to you, they couldn’t be sweeter. Their teasing tone only got more flirty and affectionate by the day.

The touches become more firm, no longer small or lingering, but firm and almost commanding. A clear message to the people around you, yet you never really paid attention.

You tried to give back what they gave, not wanting to be a bad friend or seem distant. And they only seemed to encourage it—sometimes pulling your wrist over to feed them, playfully licking your finger. They leaned into your head pats, one would always nudge you closer to the other, both soaking up your warmth. Even Suguru seemed more affectionate, somewhat taking after Satoru. Their hugs became even tighter, pulling you in close to inhale your scent from your neck, sending small shivers down your neck.

You sort of felt bad. Here were your friends, interacting how they normally would, and here you were–developing these…feelings. Inappropriate thoughts that you refused to share. They interacted as affectionately to each other as they did with you–so you knew for a fact they were not having the same thoughts as you. So you ignore it. Hoping it'll go away.  

By the time you rolled into your second year, you really started to get a handle on the social hierarchy. Jujutsu Society was just as stiff and formal as your own family, something you hadn't fully grasped until Satoru started pointing out its many flaws. He was the heir to the Gojo clan, and he was constantly venting about how he was being pressured to take over next year—a role he was definitely not excited about. 

He'd go on and on about how they were always on his case, trying to push him this way and that. But given his reputation as the strongest around—it was pretty clear that Satoru wasn't the type to be pushed into anything he didn’t want to do.

Your two best friends were about to finish high school, and the looming thought of their departure was a tough pill to swallow. You’d grown incredibly close, digging deep into each other’s lives, and the mere thought of saying goodbye felt like a punch to the gut. They reassured you, of course, promising that you’d always stay in touch. But deep down, you knew better. 

Your family's strict rules meant the only real freedom you had was at school. And if they weren't coming back to school, the chances of seeing them after you graduated were slim to none, especially with the looming prospect of your arranged marriage hanging over your head.

And when they finally did leave, you tried to keep up with your usual routine, but it just wasn’t the same without them around. Sure, your phone buzzed with texts from them, and you were all active in your group chat, but real updates on their lives came in dribs and drabs. You missed them terribly.

Every summer break after they graduated, they’d send you invites to hang out, but with your super conservative family keeping tight reins, you could never make it out of the estate. It was incredibly frustrating, feeling trapped while imagining your friends out there, having a blast and probably moving on without you.

And by your fourth year, whispers about your upcoming marriage began circulating around the clan house, causing bouts of panic and desperation creeping up in you. Suffice to say, you were far from thrilled with the idea. Dreaming of becoming a full-fledged sorcerer, going out on missions, and making a difference, you had bigger plans than just settling down as a homemaker for some clan member you hardly knew. 

Yet, family tradition cast a long shadow over your life, always nudging you towards doing what was expected, not what you desired. The thought of just following along without making your own choices really got to you, but what choice did you really have?

Then, out of nowhere, that fateful day crashed upon you. 

Your mother burst into your room, her eyes alight with a mix of glee and anticipation, an expression so foreign to her usually stoic demeanor. She was practically skipping as she waved an envelope in the air, her excitement out of place in the somber and bleak context that was  your life at the moment.

"The Gojo clan! We’ve received a letter from the Gojo clan. Your marriage has officially been arranged!" she squealed, a sound so uncharacteristic it almost didn't seem real.

You stood there, shell-shocked, as her words reverberated through the sparsely decorated confines of your room. This couldn't be right. There must be some mistake, or perhaps it was another Gojo clan, not the Gojo that you knew all too well. Couldn't be. 

As you mulled over her announcement, your thoughts were a jumbled mess of confusion and disbelief, and as if the universe itself had scripted the moment, your phone lit up. You glanced down, heart skipping a beat. "Gojo Satoru" flashed across the screen, dragging you back into a harsh reality. 

A message from him now? It seemed like some cruel cosmic joke was unfolding right before your eyes.

The day you were to meet the Gojo clan finally arrived, with the sun shining brightly, its cheerfulness almost mocking the storm of emotions roiling inside you. 

Dressed to the nines at your mother's behest, each step toward the Gojo clan estate felt unbearably heavy. A sense of foreboding gnawed at you—details about your future husband were alarmingly sparse. 

Your attempts to glean more information had been futile. Satoru's responses over the last week were disturbingly evasive, skillfully sidestepping your questions. And surprisingly, Suguru hadn’t mentioned anything either, which was odd considering how close you had all become. The silence from both him and Satoru not only heightened your anxiety but also stirred a mix of suspicion and unease. 

 You'd think your marriage would strike some kind of reaction from the two. Not even a congratulations was sent–not that you wanted one. It begged the question. Were they intentionally keeping something from you? Did they know something you didn't? 

As you approached the grand entrance of the Gojo estate, your heart thudded painfully in your chest. The overwhelming anxiety about your unclear future was one thing, but a deeper sense of betrayal cut even more sharply. 

Stepping through the towering doors of the Gojo residence, you were immediately struck by the opulence that greeted you. 

The extravagance of the foyer, with its traditional/modern vibe and gleaming wooden floors, was a stark contrast to the modest, basic estate you had grown up in. You entered the room with your head down, following closely behind your mother, just as you were taught. Today was the day you were supposed to meet the man you were going to marry. 

Your mom led the way to a low-rise table, sitting to your left, your dad taking a quiet seat to your right. The room was filled with the sound of impatient fingers drumming on the table, which nudged you to sneak a cautious glance upward to the source of the noise.

There, dressed in his ceremonial blue robes, sat Satoru, his presence alone enough to make your heart skip a beat. You hadn't seen him in months, barely heard a peep from him, yet here he was. In all his handsome glory. It didn't really hit you until he leaned in, casually throwing out with a sly smirk, “Is this my new pretty little wife?” He was obviously playing, but boy, did those words land with a thud.

Your father, completely oblivious to the turmoil swirling inside you, beamed with unabashed pride. He quickly jumped in with introductions, puffing out his chest as he announced, “This is my daughter,” as though marrying you off to the Gojos was his crowning achievement. You noticed a few other clan members–likely from the Gojo clan, chatting away with your parents. 

As you sat there, trying to make sense of how rapidly your life was pivoting, the room seemed to spin. Everyone around you—your family, the Gojos—seemed ecstatic about the arrangement. Yet, you felt as if you were observing the scene from outside your own body, detached and overwhelmed.

Satoru's behavior, once so familiar and easy, now felt oddly formal, adding to the surreal nature to the whole affair. He was professional, stern, yet friendly. And despite the formalities, he seemed to pick up on your discomfort. Leaning in slightly, he lowered his voice, a genuine note creeping in as he asked, “So, what do you think?” His eyes, intense and searching, met yours across the chatter-filled table. It was a subtle gesture, but it was enough to show he was at least aware of the shock you were experiencing.

Finding words felt like navigating a minefield, caught as you were between your family's expectations and the bizarre reality of potentially marrying someone you actually knew—as a friend. Upsetting him. Upsetting your family. "It's... a lot to take in," you managed to whisper back, your voice barely audible.

Satoru nodded, his usual smirk softening into a more empathetic smile, a hand finding yours form across the table, going unnoticed. "We'll figure this out,” his tone was almost promising. The dynamic hanging heavy between the two of you, as your mind filled with every question under the sun. 

Around you, the discussion continued unabated, your parents and the Gojos merrily planning away, oblivious to the subtle exchange between you and Satoru. Talk of wedding dates, ceremonial specifics, and the merging of two influential clans dominated the conversation, each phrase further solidifying the daunting reality of your situation.

As you listened, a part of you wanted to rebel, to shout that you weren’t just some pawn in a clan alliance. Yet, another part of you understood the importance of this union, not just for you but for everyone involved. The conflict left you feeling torn, unsure of whether to follow your heart or fulfill the role that had been chosen for you.

As the meeting wrapped up, Satoru stood and extended a hand to help you up, your parents smiling beside you, nudging you to follow. "Let's take a walk," he suggested with a gentle nod toward the gardens. "We need to talk, just the two of us."

Relieved to step away from the oppressive atmosphere of the meeting, you took Satoru's hand, letting him guide you out into the soothing fresh air. As you walked beside him, the gardens of the Gojo estate offered a serene backdrop to the tumultuous thoughts racing through your mind. Here, away from the prying eyes and ears, you wanted to ask him. 

Why? What was going on? Why was he extending an offer to your family for your hand in marriage?

As soon as you were out of sight, hidden by the lush greenery of the Gojo estate's gardens, Satoru's demeanor changed. He quickly pulled you into a hug, his grip firm, unrelenting, as if a man deprived of oxygen, and a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "I missed you," he said, his voice a blend of jest and something you couldn’t quite place—was it relief?

The sudden closeness startled you, ramping up the anxiety already swirling inside you. “Satoru, why are you doing this? What would Suguru think?” you blurted out, your voice tinged with panic. You weren’t sure why exactly Suguru sprang to mind, but memories of recent texts in your group chat flickered through your thoughts. Was he in on Satoru’s plans? Did he support this unexpected turn in your relationship dynamic? Did he even know?—

Satoru pulled back slightly, his gaze narrowing into a frown that bordered on annoyance—a look you had never seen directed at you. “This was both of our ideas,” he revealed nonchalantly, as if the joint decision should ease your mind. His casual dismissal of your concerns stung, and his next words cut even deeper, tone boarding on mean. “What? Would you rather have another man marry you?”

His question stopped you cold. Was this really all for your benefit? Or was there something else at play here? Why the harsh tone? Was he upset? 

Taking a deep breath, you tried to gather your thoughts. The idea of marrying someone you didn't know at all, someone outside of this circle you’d grown to trust—even if it was in a bizarre, unconventional way—seemed far worse. “No,” you finally said, your voice soft but certain. “I guess you’re better than someone else.”

Satoru’s face softened at your acceptance, never releasing his hold on you. He melted into you, hands clenching at your sides, “We thought so too,” he murmured, the word ‘we’ making you catch your breath—the implication clear as day. This was planned, and this was for you. But it sounded almost like he was trying to reassure both himself and you. “Look, I know this is all kind of weird, and it’s happening fast, but Suguru and I—we’ve got you. We’re not going to let anything bad happen.”

His words did settle some of your fears, and you relaxed into him. They were familiar, and you knew Satoru pretty well, and despite the strangeness of their proposal, you couldn't imagine being in this situation with anyone else. Maybe it would be alright?

“Let’s figure this out together, okay?” Satoru’s voice now held a sincerity that pierced through the remaining doubts. “Just give us a chance to make this work. For all of us.”

As you nodded, still processing the whirlwind of emotions, you realized that this might just be your best option. 

Hand in hand, you walked back to the house with Satoru. The discussions that followed were a blur, and before long, a date for the marriage was set.

and a part 2?

come home, this one has a second home

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem) | quirkless!reader, prohero!dynamight, arranged marriage au.

a.n; remember when i said that this serie will not have a specific chronology? okay, this is it. i actually imagined this part being a bit further into their relationship. they are not fully in love -or at least haven't admitted their feelings for each other yet lol-, but they are getting close. remember that😉 SOMEONE SAID ANGST????? YAAAAS, HERE IT IS. MWUAH😘

Fuckin' Marry Me Series | First Part | Second Part | Third Part |

It’s chaos.

All your co-workers are loudly directing each of their assigned heroes as best as they can, but the amount of destruction around complicates each possible view all of you as Quirk & Training Specialists could have.

You run towards your desk, where your computer and monitors are already turned on. You put on the earbuds, connecting yourself to the system. Because of your expertise, you are allowed to hear everyone’s communications, so you use that to understand what is going on around there.

“...Red Riot, watch out from your left. The villain has a second weapon…”

“...Ingenium, if you change your direction to your right, you’ll find-…”

“...Uravity, try lifting them towards the building in front, the ground looks better…”

“...DEKU, YOUR RIGHT IS CLEAR!…”

“...SHOTO, WATCH FOR THE CEILING!!...”

“...DYNAMIGHT, TO YOUR RIGHT!...”

Bingo.

It does not surprise you at all that those three are at the center of it all, fighting the main, strongest villains, but it still makes you take a deep, relieved breath when you hear Bakugou swear very loudly, “you piece of shit villain!”.

He’s okay.

You then focus on finding the connection to your assigned hero.

“Earphone Jack, I’m with you today,” you say immediately as Jirou connects back to you.

“Oh, Y/N, thank God!” She exclaims, “This is a fucking nightmare! I need a way towards–…”

Jirou explains quickly what is happening to you. Apparently, a group of villains had created some sort of machine that was creating havoc, and the sole intention was to damage the infrastructure within a 10 km radius. No apparent deeper reason behind it, which is very suspicious in your opinion. Every villain has a reason behind their actions. But that’s a matter for another moment. You focus now on helping her all the way into the building, hiding and evading every possible encounter with villains, where the main thing is happening.

You feel your shoulders tensing each moment you tell Jirou to hide due to some possible threat coming her way. This kind of job is definitely not for the weak hearts. For some reason you are extremely good at it, quick thinking and fast to react at anything, that’s why in situations like this one you are assigned to any hero who was considered key to finally win. Jirou apparently is the one today. The Big Three are currently distracting all the heavy and strong villains, opening a way for her to disable the machine, and Jirou with her hacking knowledge is perfect for the job.

You can feel some of your co-workers paying attention to you and Earphone Jack at times, adding a bit of pressure on your shoulders. You and her work wonderfully together, and she is always open to your suggestions –sometimes even putting to test some moves you advise and create personally for her and her quirk, even though that is not really part of your job. But you love it completely when one of those actually works and end up being the best move.

“Alright, I’m in,” Jirou whispers and everyone around is listening and watching you cheer loudly. You release a deep and long breath that you didn’t realize you were holding back this entire time.

It takes three minutes for Jirou to turn off the machine and send it into autodestruction.

But in three stupid minutes, a lot happens.

Another building collapses, creating more chaos around. The sound of the explosion is so strong you can even feel the building of the company tremble a bit. Two new big villains appear, making Hero Shoto shout, “SEND RED RIOT AND TENTACOLE, NOW!”

You watch through the system the cameras close to where the Big Three are fighting, and you see it happen.

Deku and Dynamight are fighting strongly, but it’s quite evident how tired and drowned they already are. They are pushing through, hanging in there as much as they can, but it takes one wrong move, one wrong direction.

“...DYNAMIGHT, USE YOUR LEFT CANON…”

One of your co-workers says, and even though you’re not connected in their communication, you can’t avoid yelling, “NO!”, and standing up, looking in a first-row seat how the villain predicts Bakugou’s move, grabbing him by the arm and stabbing him with a big dagger on his stomach that brings Pro Hero Dynamight down.

You saw it happening before everyone else. It had been a wrong directive, a bad decision from your co-worker who was not paying attention to the other side of the monitor, where you could clearly see the villain getting ready, expecting Dynamight’s move.

You watch in what feels like slow motion the contorting body of Bakugou Katsuki, your husband, fall to the floor. Blood spilling down faster than you have ever seen.

“DYNAMIGHT IS DOWN!”

“DYNAMIGHT IS DOWN, SEND BACKUP, NOW!”

“DYNAMIGHT IS DOWN!”

“KACCHAN!”

“DYNAMIGHT IS DOWN!”

“DYNAMIGHT IS…!”

“DYNAMIGHT…”

Everyone has to repeat the message. It’s a directive that everyone follows to help your area adjust and react as fast as you can. Yet hearing the message repeated several times only increases the tight pressure in your chest.

No… NO!

Your whole body is trembling, and for some reason, you can’t feel your hands. You can’t focus on anything else than the image your eyes are seeing through the monitor: Bakugou Katsuki, Pro Hero Dynamight, your husband, lying on the ground over a pool of his own blood.

For being one of the best at your job, for being considered one of the few who always reacts fast and come up with solutions even quicker, for the first time, you don’t know what to do. Your whole body is petrified watching now how Deku picks Dynamight up over a shoulder and jumps away so fast they are barely visible.

Slowly, the ability to hear around you comes back, and you hear two voices. One is Jirou’s, calling your name and trying to make you react, but she’s not in danger. The other one is Izuku.

“Y/N, can you hear me? Answer me. He’s alright! He’s alive. I just left him in the ambulance, they are taking him to the hospital.”

“Y/N, GO.” Jirou’s voice says again, and you do not hesitate anymore.

You know this decision you’re about to make will get you in lots of trouble with your boss. It is imperative for everyone on your floor that you never leave mid-mission. It’s your area's responsibility to foresee that each hero you’re assigned for the day comes back to the company as safe and sound as possible.

Yet the only thing on your mind at the moment is Bakugou. 

The rest can go to hell.

You drop the earbuds over your desk and run.

Everything feels numb and looks like in a blur. You don’t exactly know how you got to the hospital, but you did.

When you arrive there, it’s chaos too. Every doctor and nurse is running everywhere, helping to heal civilians and heroes. You approach a very stressed receptionist and ask for Pro Hero Dynamight and if he’s okay. Your hands are trembling. She says he arrived a couple of minutes before you, but she apologizes saying that she still doesn’t have any more information. You’ll have to wait. And she asks you to go to the waiting room if you’re not injured.

You take a deep breath, hands clasped together tightly, trying to control the trembling in them and follow the woman’s orders. There’s really not much else you can do, causing a scene won’t help you or her.

Your walk towards the waiting room feels like floating, and it’s not a good kind of floating. It feels like your mind is not entirely in you; like you’re moving out of habit. Out of thinking. Not really feeling the soft material of the chair you just sat in. Or the coldness of the table you just rested your forearms over. Your eyes aren’t even focusing on anything, but you do perceive the amount of people there. Some are crying, others are walking from one side of the room to the other anxiously, and others are like you. Quiet, unresponsive to anything. Waiting. Hoping. All they probably care about is receiving some, any kind of news about their loved ones…

Loved ones.

Loved.

Love.

Do you love Bakugou?

Another pang in your chest makes you close your eyes for a moment, holding back the painful feeling. Fuck. It’s too much.

You don’t know how much time you wait there, sitting in that chair, in that exact same position. You just know you’re not moving from there until someone comes.

You just wish it hadn’t been her.

Bakugou Mitsuki enters the waiting room with a storming sound alongside her as she does everywhere she goes. It doesn’t surprise you the theatrical trail of tears painted black thanks to her mascara running down her cheeks, yet her eyes are dry. When she sees you, she walks directly at you.

“Where is he?! Nobody could tell me shit!”

You truly wish she wasn’t there.

“H-He is…” You clear your throat, your voice sounding so broken it even surprised you. “Doctors are tending to him. We have to wait.”

“Fucking stupid brat. He’s alive yet, then?”

You see red. So much red, you’re afraid that the image of you cutting Mitsuki’s throat with your own bare nails isn’t just a mere product of your imagination. But when you hear her heel tapping continuously on the floor annoyingly, waiting for your response, and you see her standing in front of you, you blink relieved it hadn’t been real.

“...Be smarter than her…”

Izuku, you are so good you even became part of my conscience.

You take a long deep breath, before deciding what to answer back. If she is going to act like a bitch at this very moment, then you can too, right?

“Oh, I bet you wish he wasn’t…”

“What the fuck does that mean, you moron?”

“Tell me, Mitsuki,” you know she hates it when you call her by her given name, so you do it with a smirk, “Are you here because of the wellness of your son, or because of his heritage?”

This is the very first time you call out her bullshit, that you even indulge yourself in actually saying what you actually think of her. The expression of pure rage and offense on her face is all worth it.

“You fucking little–...”

“Ms. Bakugou?”

“Yes?”

“Yes?”

Mitsuki answers at the same time you do, and it makes you roll your eyes. This woman really is a pain in the ass.

The doctor looks confused between you two, so he looks again at the chart and clarifies, “Ms. Bakugou Y/N.”

Mitsuki tchs, annoyed and crossing her arms over her chest. You immediately stand up and walk towards the doctor. “That’s me.”

“You are Mr. Bakugou Katsuki’s wife, correct?”

“Yes, I am,” you confirm as the doctor nods and asks you to follow him. You do it, hands still clasped together like dear life.

“He’s okay. He’s still under anesthesia, but he should wake in a couple of minutes. I’ve been informed his body processes and washes it quickly.”

You nod in agreement, following close behind in silence. Watching the many rooms pass by, but only caring about the one you know Bakugou would surely be in.

“He lost a lot of blood, we had to transfuse him. The dagger reached his right lung, but nothing too serious,” you are holding your breath with each statement the doctor is informing you of. “After maybe a month, Mr. Bakugou should be more than recovered. But for now, he’ll need to take it easy.”

Right when he finishes the sentence, his hand grabs the knob of the door that you know will lead you to where your husband is. You simply nod in response before the doctor opens the door. “Ms. Bakugou, you’re allowed to come and go as you please. I’ll tell a nurse to bring you your all-pass card.”

You don’t actually pay much attention to what he says, your eyes are locked over where the man that your heart beats so strongly and loudly for right now is lying over a bed, surrounded by machines and cables that constantly monitor his vital signs.

You don’t even hear when the doctor closes the door and leaves you alone with him.

Your vision blurs, and you’re afraid of moving closer, or touching something that will cause Bakugou any pain. But you’re more afraid that if you don’t get closer, don’t at least hold his warm hand, your heart will beat its way out of your chest towards him.

So you move closer, as carefully as you can. His eyes are closed, his expression so relaxed and serene, you think he looks like he hasn’t just gone through a life-and-death situation. If he hadn’t been all full of cables and as pale as he looks, it would have been the same expression he has when he sleeps at night, next to you. His chest raises slowly with each intake of breath. He is breathing. Your hands unclasp, the trembling is still there, yet you direct one towards where one of his is lying motionlessly on his side. His hand is warm. He is alive.

You feel the tears sliding down your face when Bakugou’s hand suddenly moves. It turns around and holds yours, a bit weak but firmly. Your eyes snap up towards his face. His eyes are slightly open, enough to let you know he is awake. His other hand, the one he can move better, raises and moves towards your face. The thumb cleans the trail your tears created and catches one that just escaped your eye.

“I… told you… n-not to cry… for m-me…” 

A sob finally leaves your mouth as you immediately grab his hand, holding it against your cheek. It’s big enough to almost enclose more than half of your face, your nose caressing his palm as if you were a damn cat, your other hand flies to his forearm and also caresses it. The warmth feels so comforting, so relieving, it makes you cry more.

You hear him snort affectionately, “Crybaby.”

He is okay.

[yuwuta]

*TEST DRIVE — YUUTA OKKOTSU

❝I WILL NEVER LEAVE BY YOUR SIDE, DON’T YOU KNOW YOU GOT A RIDE OR DIE

pairings. okkotsu/reader, uhhh implied maki/nobara and sort of itadori/fushiguro but that’s not so important for now

warnings, themes. non-curse/modern au, marriage of convenience au, i thought long and hard about who would fit this trope best and all i can say is that i didn’t really pick just one in the end, so if this spirals in a wedding/marriage playlist, you’ve been warned, um… sort of implied possessive behavior on yuuta’s end but it’s only teased for now :)

word count. 2.5k i can yap about him all day

playing. test drive/ariana grande, going crazy/exo, heart of glass/blondie, idea/taemin, tipsy/chloe x halle 

“I just heard the funniest joke from Inumaki,” Nobara says, welcoming herself into your apartment. You’re not surprised, and continue with your dessert preparations. Yuuji, to your left, spares her a wave, before going back to diligently preparing the vegetables. 

Maki is the only one to respond by turning slightly in her seat to raise an eyebrow at Nobara when she walks up to the island, “Since when do you think Toge is funny?” 

“Not usually,” Nobara admits, taking the neighboring open seat. She crosses her arms atop the counter, and squints at you, “But he surprised me this time.”

Your eyes fidget to Maki, who seems equally confused by Nobara’s unnerving stare, then to Yuuji, who appears none the wiser, because he happily chirps, “Well, I wanna hear it! Tell us, Kugisaki!”

“He said that it was soooo kind of you to share your anniversary date with Yuuta and have us all over for dinner,” Nobara drawls, “Then I got confused, of course—but then I thought, ‘Maybe they’re secretly together and I just didn’t know. Wouldn’t be a huge surprise.’”

You flinch at that, “What do you mean that wouldn’t be a huge sur—”

“This is the funniest part, though,” Nobara squints, “He said that you’re actually married, and he meant that today is your wedding anniversary. He was pretty convincing, though. He’s very committed to the bit—even challenged me to ask you at dinner, but I figured I’d straighten it out now,” she drawls, reaching over to steal a cucumber slice from Yuuji’s station, “You’re not actually married to Yuuta, right?”

You pause, for too long. Maki’s disbelief shifts from Nobara to you, morphing into a threatening glare that makes you chuckle nervously. Yuuji keeps turning his head between you and Nobara, waiting for one of you to crack. 

It’s not her. “Okay… define married,” you mumble.

Nobara all but jumps across the island, standing up and slamming her palms on the counter top. “What do you mean ‘define married’—there’s only one definition!” Yuuji frantically sweeps his preciously sliced vegetables out of her range. “You’re either married to Okkotsu or you’re not, which is it?” 

You pause again. Too long this time. 

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Maki says, “It’s true? Toge says that shit all the time, how he can ‘still hear wedding bells’ when you two are around. Oh, I’m going to be sick.”

“Wait, you’re married?” Yuuji quips, “Since when? You should have told me, I would have gotten you a present!”

“Okay, okay—enough!” you yell, taking a step back, “It’s… true, but it’s not what you think. Yuuta and I are legally married, but we’re not together together.”

Nobara reaches to flick you on the forehead, “What the hell does that mean?” 

“It means, we’re married on paper only,” you explain, strategically placing your knife in the sink, far out of Maki and Nobara’s reach. 

“Say more words,” Maki demands, “Now.” 

You sigh. Even Yuuji has paused his preparations, blinking at you with those big, wide eyes, and you know for sure there’s no way out of this now. 

“It happened four years ago. I—”

Despite being the one who asked you to say more, Maki is the first to cut you off, incredulous, “Four years? You’ve been married to that beanstalk for four years and neither one of you twigs thought to mention it?” 

“Maki, let her finish,” Yuuji pitches in for you, reaching a comforting hand out to your shoulder, “Maybe she was dying and needed Okkotsu-senpai to sign her insurance papers so the government didn’t sweep her away! I saw that in a K-Drama once,” he smiles proudly. Nobara pinches her face in disgust, immediately refuting and calling Yuuji an idiot for believing everything he sees on TV. 

“Honestly, that’s not too far off. I’m not dying—and neither is Yuuta,” you hastily correct the worried faces peering at you, “But he was sick as a kid, and long story short is something got fucked up with his insurance when his parents died. It wasn’t a big deal, at first, but it spiraled into a bunch of issues, the biggest being the threat of taking his parents’ house away from him.”

Nobara pulls back, crossing her arms. “Why didn’t Gojo just do something then? That idiot has more than enough money to spare for some petty hospital bill, even with twenty years of interest.” 

“He did,” you assure her, “But then the house became its own problem. His parents didn’t leave the deed in his name, and the community board tried to say that Yuuta had no assets and wasn’t a favored candidate for their neighborhood, even if he was their son.” 

“That’s bullshit,” Maki interjects. 

“Yeah, totally not fair,” Yuuji pouts, “That’s his dead parents’ house and they wanted him to prove himself?” 

“Pretty much,” you sigh, “Basically marriage is something that helped prove his eligibility… plus some doctored philanthropic donations on Gojo’s end, and letters of recommendation from Shoko and her co-workers.” 

Nobara tuts her bottom lip out. “I don’t know, I’m not buying it.” 

“No, it makes sense. I’m sure by now all his parents’ neighbors are a bunch of uptight, old heads who didn’t want some kid throwing parties nearby,” Maki argues, “But once they hear he’s a young, married, nurse with a side hustle in philanthropy, I’m sure those geezers welcomed him with open arms. Sounds like some shit my family would do, too.” 

Nobara hums, factoring in Maki’s evaluation. “Okay fine. Yuuta marries you, he gets his parents’ house back and probably commits insurance fraud too,” she settles, “But what about you?—You said this was mutually beneficial, so what did you get out of it?” 

You probably should talk to Yuuta about revealing all the details of your marriage to your friends, but you knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. Yuuta’s parents’ death and the issues that came along with it weren’t a secret at the time, but your problems are something you kept private. It’s a miracle you’ve gone this long under the radar, and you know Nobara isn’t going anywhere with unanswered questions. 

“Permanent residency status,” you tell her, “Yuuta’s a citizen, so in marrying him, all my problems about finding a job in six weeks after graduation disappeared.” 

“But… you got a job?” Yuuji questions, head tilted. 

“Yeah, eventually, but I didn’t know I would, and it was either take that chance, or be forced to go back home, and my time was running out,” you reveal, twiddling your thumbs together, “Look, I would have said something at the time, but everyone had their own shit to deal with after graduation. I would have asked any one of you to marry me, but I knew Yuuta was the only one with a reason to say yes.” 

The kitchen falls quiet as the news sits with your friends. Nobara and Maki’s stern disbelief slowly morphs into empathy, and Yuuji’s bright eyes grow steely with concentration as he pieces your story together. 

Then he springs up, “Wait, I totally would have married you, senpai!” 

You laugh, a lightness easing its way back into the room. “Thanks, Yuuji,” you lean to give him a kiss on the cheek, but you’re met with Nobara’s outstretched palm instead. 

“Nuh-uh. Just because I think this marriage is insane doesn’t mean that I condone adultery.” 

“It’s not adultery. I told you, Yuuta and I are married on paper only—he’s free to date and kiss whomever he pleases, and so am I,” You roll your eyes, pushing her hand away and giving Yuuji a kiss anyway, which he happily accepts, sticking his tongue out in mockery at Nobara.

Maki scoffs, “Are we sure that Yuuta knows that?” 

“Of course he knows that.”

“So then why hasn’t he dated anyone?” Maki presses, eyes lowering into a teasing glare. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “Who Yuuta does or doesn’t date isn’t really my business.” 

Nobara pulls at her hair, “Yes it is. You’re his wife.” 

“His contractual wife,” you correct. 

“Contractual?” 

“Wait—have Yuuta and Toge not totally kissed on several drunk, or am I the only one who saw that?” Yuuji interjects.

“No, that was you and Fushiguro,” Nobara says, “And nobody cares about you two right now.” 

You put a hand on Yuuji’s shoulder, “I care about you, Yuuji. Please, tell us about your drunk escapades with our dear Megumi.” 

“Save it, Itadori,” Maki cuts in, crushing Yuuji’s bright demeanor, “You and Yuuta are way more pathetic. Keep talking.” 

“Since when do you even like to gossip?” 

“Since she met me,” Nobara gleams, proudly, “Now, keep going.” 

You give Yuuji an apologetic glance before continuing, “I just mean that by the end of this year, Yuuta and I can get amicably divorced without raising any suspicion. Our marriage can’t be contested as a sham, I’ll be eligible for citizenship and housing on my own, and all will be well.” 

It’s quiet again, for a moment. You bite your lip in anticipation. Ultimately, you knew that none of your friends would judge you and Yuuta for what you did, but it wasn’t exactly normal to marry your friends for legal benefits, and then hide your marital status from almost everyone you knew. Still, this conversation was going about as well as it could, until Maki starts laughing. 

Her laughter starts off quiet, then grows gradually, until it becomes concerning. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Maki actually laugh before—a few amused grunts, and occasional drunk giggles, yes, but full-on, blown laughter is a first. It’s scary, and as you glance at Nobara and Yuuji, you’re clearly not the only one worried. 

“You actually believe that he doesn’t feel anything for you—that’s rich,” she says through laughter, clutching her stomach, “God help you if you think you can just divorce him. You two are so fucked, you deserve each other.”

“Wait, speaking of rich, did you sign a prenup? Isn’t Yuuta totally loaded now that he’s a nurse and related to Gojo—I also don’t think that you’ll be able to divorce him that easily, but if you kill him, you could be an instant millionaire,” Nobara reasons. 

“That’s so shallow!” Yuuji exclaims, “Also, I’m a nurse, and I wouldn’t say I’m loaded.” 

“That’s because you’re not cute like Yuuta,” Nobara mocks, “If you were, then you’d make the big bucks.” 

“I’m cute!” Yuuji cries, turning to you, “I’m cute, right?” 

You reach to pat his head, “Yes, Yuuji, you’re very cute. And perfectly well off enough. Yuuta works inhumane hours for his money, don’t be like him.” 

“Itadori, you make, like, quadruple what the average person makes,” Maki reminds him, “You just spend it all just as quickly.” 

Nobara scoffs, “Which he can afford to do because he’s a nepotism baby.” 

“You just said I was poor and ugly, and now I’m a nepotism baby? Pick a story, Kugisaki!”

“I don’t have to pick shit. Nanami-san sponsors your entire life, and enables your bad spending habits,” she huffs, “Yuuta’s a nepotism nurse, too. In fact, you both make me sick.” 

“Okay, then by that logic Fushiguro is also a nepotism baby!”

“Well, duh. He’s, like, the poster child for nepotism babies all around the world.” 

You drown out Nobara and Yuuji’s argument, mulling over Maki’s words instead. Did she mean to imply that Yuuta would make your divorce difficult on purpose?—you don’t see why; Yuuta doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body, and it wouldn’t serve him any purpose. You didn’t sign a prenup, but you would never argue ownership over any of his assets, and you know that Yuuta knows that; he’d already given you so much, you would never try to take anything from him. 

In fact, getting divorced would only open more doors for him. You don’t know if Yuuta hasn’t dated in the past four years out of some lingering loyalty to your marriage, but if that was the case, then you don’t want to stand in his way for any longer than necessary, and you especially don’t want him to grow to resent you for it. He would no longer be unnecessarily bound to you; he’d be free, legally, to carry on with his life—you would be the only one indebted to him for his boundless kindness. 

Truthfully, you hadn’t thought much of your divorce throughout your marriage. You knew that after five years, you could get divorced without consequence, but you hadn’t pictured how that would go. The thought of it somehow messing with your relationship to Yuuta, and your mutual friendships makes your head hurt. Maybe you should have married Yuuji instead. 

“Are you kidding, Yuuta would have mauled him,” Nobara chuckles, “Plus he would have lost his childhood home.” You blink. Guess you said that last part out loud. 

Her words spark more bickering between her and Itadori, and this time you turn to Maki. It was evident that she was just as much in the dark as anybody else about your secret marriage, but, still, it seemed like she knew something that you didn’t. 

“Maki, does... you said I think that Yuuta doesn’t feel anything—then what does he feel?” 

Maki blinks, then shakes her head, “You clearly don’t know who you married. That’s for you and your husband to work out.” She continues, this time that same wicked laughter is back, “Just know that whatever your plan for divorce was, it’s not going to be that easy. Yuuta is stupid, clearly, but he’s not that dumb. At least, I hope not.” 

You pout, shoulders slumping. That was about the most cryptic and least comforting response a person could give, but you shouldn’t have expected more from Maki. Luckily, Yuuji moves to give your shoulders a comforting rub, forgoing Nobara’s exclamations of him being a homewrecking harlot. 

At this point, you can’t tell if their arguing or your overthinking is causing your headache. Maybe you should cancel this group dinner all together; there’s no way you and Yuuta won’t be the topic of conversation all night, and you’re not exactly looking forward to pairing Maki’s mystic messages with Toge’s public humiliation, unless you start consuming liquor now. 

Deciding that’s the best plan of action, you turn to your cupboards to reach for a bottle of wine, pawning off popping the cork to Maki when your phone buzzes, catching your attention. 

It’s a text from Yuuta, similar to one you’ve received on this day every day, for the past four years, with something a little extra tacked on this year. 

from: yuuta 🌟 — happy anniversary (and i’m not just saying that because the feds are watching) (＾∇＾) — cheers to us, and many more! 🖤

[just-a-ghost00]

Crush series - Compatibility test : your kinks vs their kinks (18+)

Minors do not interact.

Group 1

For you my group 1 I intuitively channeled the song Alibi as I picked your picture on Pinterest. Maybe some of you have struggled with intimacy in the past and/or were surrounded by abusive people. You may have struggled with finding beauty in yourself, feeling cared for and valued, setting boundaries. If that is your case, first of all I am sorry that you had to go through all of this. Second of all, then this could be a confirmation you picked the right group.

Your kinks - The World, The Hierophant, The High Priestess

You like to be adored, to be put on a pedestal. In the ideal version of how your sexual life should be, you want to feel powerful and in control of what is going on in the bedroom. You would rather keep your sexual life private. So exhibitionism or sharing your intimate moments online are definitely out of the equation. You want to feel safe and nurtured. But most importantly you want to see in your person's eyes that not only are you important to them but you are their world. You want your partners to keep their eyes on you and treat you as a goddess. You want to be pampered, to be praised, to be venerated. You like to be courted. Your kinks involve being fully clothed or wearing expensive outfits and jewelry. Things that your partner would have provided for you. You likely want to be on top physically or feel like you are on top of things. You want your partner to answer your every request. You would definitely instore a safe word. Also, some of you may be reliigious. So you would want your partner to keep their distances until marriage/commitment. You want to be romanced, wined and dined. You want your partner to be respectful of your boundaries and also adaptable. You would best be compatible with someone that is open minded, that likes to explore new things in the bed room and shares your values and desires. You would want your partner to read you like a book. Some of you may enjoy travel sex, car sex.

Their kinks - 3 of swords, 9 of swords, The Emperor

I think it is safe to say that this person's priority wouldn't be their partner's pleasure. They don't like giving up control. They want to possess and to dominate. This person is into BDSM, fast and rough sex, mind games, dirty talking. They honestly enjoy torture. They would probably overstimulate their partner or keep going even if the person was exhausted and couldn't handle it anymore... They care about their own pleasure more than that of others. They are a taker. They are an abuser. I don't know how to put it any other way. They enjoy mental anguish. They would enjoy keeping people guessing, flirting through texts or phone calls. They are the type to take their partner by surprise or in their sleep. They litterally view their partner as a toy. Do I need to elaborate or you get the picture? I really don't like this person's energy. I can't think of any positive thing to say about their kinks.

Compatibility test result : 0%, this person would make you so unhappy and you deserve better than that.

Group 2

Since I had picked up intuitively on songs for the other two groups, I asked my guides to point me toward a song that could be relevant to you. Punching bag is a song that expresses the tiredness and frustration we may feel when the people surrounding them aren't being mindful of their words and actions, when they are either subcounsciously or consciously walking over us and disrespecting our boundaries, when they are being harsh on us and belittle or bring us down. If that is something you relate to, then this is your sign you picked the right group.

Your Kinks - Ace of swords, 2 of swords, Emperor

Communication and spiritual/mental connection are major factors in your relationships. Your ideal version of intimacy involves words of affirmation, praising, dirty talk, mental stimulation. Foreplay matters to you more than the actual act. You are the type of person that enjoys sexting, teasing phone calls and possibly sending nudes to your partner. For you, sex must be aerial, lighhearted and make you feel like you are touching the sky. You enjoy trying risky positions or positions that are somewhat artistic, that need a good balance. You also enjoy switching roles and positions, though you prefer to be in control. You enjoy giving and receiving oral. You have a fascination for the genital area and this is likely to be the part of the body you would be focusing on the most or would like for your partner to focus on. Breathplay could also be a thing you're into. The throat and the mouth seem to be significant to you. Those could be erogenous zones you enjoy teasing or being teased. Hickeys also. You may like to leave marks on your person's body and have them leave marks on yours that show who you belong to. You could tend to be a bit possessive and jealous. For you, sex could be a way to keep the upper hand in a relationship. If you are the type to be rather submissive in your daily life, you tend to balance that out by being more controling and demanding in the bed room. You are the embodiment of the saying "lady in the streets, freak in the sheets". You could like mind games to some extent. You could also be into blindfolds. You may prefer a partner that is a bit dominant and challenges you for power without being forceful about it.

Their kinks - Page of cups, 7 of cups, Knight of wands

Your crush is a major giver and a romantic at heart. Nothing to them matters more than feeling a deep and meaningful emotional connection with their partner. To them, sex is first and formost an demonstration of love. Thus, their main priority is for their partner to enjoy the experience as much as possible and to feel cared for in their arms. They are quite the charmer. They ally a good mixture of cockiness and gentleness that makes intimate moments feel like a moment of bliss. This person has a thing for fluids of all kinds. Obviously, that includes saliva, semen, even sweat. They could be into shower/bath/jacuzzi/beach sex. This person could also enjoy having a bit of liquid courage before doing the deed. When they are sober, they may be extremely shy so getting a little buzzed could help them channel their inner fire. I don't see this person getting drunk to the point of not being conscious and forgetting it all afterwards. On the contrary, they want to remember every single detail. They also enjoy their partner being vulnerable and emotional. One of their kinks could be to be intimate with virgins or people that are younger than them. They like the "damsel in distress" type of people. People that seem very innocent and submissive. They tend to be more of the dominant type but they would definitely be willing to hand over some control if that makes their partner happy. If they're dominant, they're a soft dom. They like passionate sex that makes them lose their breath and be all sweaty. This person tends to get a bit hasty when they are aroused. They could be the type to whine or moan, maybe even cry of happiness at how good they feel with their partner.

Compatibility test results : 80 to 95%, this person would want to put you first no matter what, they feel genuine and communicative but they maybe wouldn't be as mentally and verbally stimulating as you wish.

Group 3

I have no idea why but upon seeing the picture I picked for you on Pinterest, I immediately thought of The Grinch lmao That might be one of your favorite animated movies or your crush's favorite. Definitely tell me in the comments if that is your case!

Your kinks - 2 of pentacles, 6 of wands, 9 of cups

You enjoy having to work for it. But you also like when your partner is being encouraging and reassures you. You're into praises and pet names. You enjoy switching roles and positions. You are fine with being both dominant and submissive. You're a bit of an adventurer when it comes to intimacy. You are curious and daring. Foreplay is definitely a thing that turns you on. You also like to feel a bit foggy or dreamy during sex. So maybe you could enjoy getting drunk with your partner before. You want to feel emotionally connected to your partner. You're into body fluids as well as water or other liquids. You may enjoy a partner that's a bit resistant, that doesn't show affection easily in their daily life but would be vulnerable only with you, in the most intimate moments. You like to get under your person's skin. 69 might be a position you enjoy. Missionary as well. You might enjoy to be woken up with sex in the middle of the night or to have sex when you've just woke up. You could be into tantra and other sensual practices that could help you connect with your partner through dreams. You enjoy fantasizing about your partner more than you enjoy being intimate with them. The waiting phase or the uncertainty before the moment is something that turns you on. You may be into orgasm denial. You may also like to go back and forth for several rounds until you are sleepy. I feel like you would go with whatever your partner wants as long as they are pleased with you and the connection.

Their kinks - knight of pentacles, 9 of pentacles, King of pentacles

Your crush is both a taker and a giver but they lean more on the giver type. They are quite reserved and uptight but when it comes to intimacy they go all out. To them sex is essential to a relationship for it to be prosperous. They give it a lot of care and importance. They view it as a duty and an honor. They take this responsibility very seriously. They tend to take their time and increase intensity gradually. They enjoy sex that is deep and rich, very earthy and sensual. For it is a grounding step in a couple's life. They may enjoy riding, whether they are the one on top or their partner is. They may have a breeding kink. They are not very communicative during sex. They envision sex as a dialogue between two bodies. Touch is really important to them. Through touch they express their satisfaction, their passion, their needs. They have a tough exterior that is hard to break but once you get under their skin they give you their all. Their arousal would mainly be seen in their eyes, through their fast movements or the tension in their body. They are the type to grunt, to grab and hold on tightly to the sheets or the bed. They want their partner to do the same. They enjoy positions that are stable and simple but efficient. So they are not the type to try out super flexible positions, though they could definitely carry you around without any problem. They enjoy chair sex, desk sex, work sex. Also travel sex, car sex. They could enjoy outdoors sex. They definitely are a hard worker but they also like to make their partner work for their attention.

Compatibility test results : 75 to 80 %, I feel like this person would satisfy you to some extent and make you feel safe but they seem a bit too rigid and old school for the curious spirit that you are, also they maybe wouldn't be able to provide as much emotional satisfaction as you need.

[1-800-cheolie]

baby fever | bakugou headcanons

part 2 part 3

tags: suggestive themes, not proof read, heat in the moment writing, fem reader, mentions of pregnancy, established marriage, they’re pro heroes, crappy writing.

word count: 642

☆ bakugou katsuki. when people hear that name, they say he’s rough, brusque and edgy, a double sided sword. on the other hand, you find him sweet and loving, quite adorable even if he denies it.

☆ you often think a lot about how he would treat your kids in the near future and despite his tough exterior, he’s grown fond of kids.

☆ social media thinks that he's going to be the worst dad to exist if you have kids, you think they’re delusional.

☆ but the moment you realize you know he’s the one for your non-existent kids is when you’re both out on patrol and you find a lost kid. “leave him to me” katsuki grumbles. “go get yer injury healed”

☆ you do as told, conversing with one of the medics, and in the corner of your eye, you spot the child laughing with your husband.

☆ butterflies dance about in your stomach, fluttering vigorously. “he’s going to be a great dad, [hero name].“ the medic says. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, almost like you held the earth up for him.”

☆ you softly thank her with a smile, beaming with rays of sunshine as you approach your boyfriend. secretly watching him play with the young boy.

☆ “I see you’re both having a great time” you say. katsuki whips his head in surprise, coughing into his fist as if to hide his blush. “has dynamight been nice to you, sweetie?”

☆ the kid jumps up and down in glee, bobbing his head. “mister dynamight is the best! he even gave me a lollipop! but mommy can’t know or she might get upset”

☆ he sheers away in embarrassment. “thought it might cheer him up or somet’ing” you press your lips against his cheek, praising him for his work. the kid pretends to gag and you both chuckle, he’s an adorable little guy.

☆ “aoi!” a woman calls out and the boy goes running to his mother, “oh my god, I can’t thank you enough.” you smile at her and tell her it’s your job as heroes, waving back to aoi as they leave.

☆ “having a kid doesn’t sound so bad. I wouldn’t mind waking up to our baby in your arms. It’s adorable and sexy.”

☆ he pauses. freezing in place. did he hear you right? our baby. him being a dad? sexy? fuck. you were definitely going to be the death of him.

☆ “[hero name]!” he calls out. you wink at him, skipping off to the agency. “baby! you can’t just say that and leave me like this!” he groans. having a hard on in the middle of work was going to be difficult to explain.

☆ the next morning, you saw the media, snorting at the headline. PRO HERO DYNAMIGHT SEEN SMILING WITH A KID. COULD WE POSSIBLY BE SEEING POTENTIAL FATHER MATERIAL?

☆ you yelp in surprise, dropping your phone on the side of the bed at the sudden touch of your boyfriend. “c’mere” he rasps. “why the fuck are you up s’early? it’s only 8am, go back t’sleep”

☆ “wanted to check the time is all. do you need something?” you ask.

☆ he shakes his head and lays you atop of him, grinding against your ass as a grin paints his lips, canines showing. “only thing I need is to fill you up to the brim and pump you full of my cum.”

☆ “katsuki! It’s only 8am!” you repeat his words. they fall deaf on his ears.

☆ next thing you know, you’re holding a test in your hand, double lines are present as a smug katsuki smirks at you. what a little shit.

[crepezinhos]

Purity

POV: You just wanted to celebrate your engagement party with your friends and family in the 1600s, but as soon as you left the scene for a quick moment, your childhood friend, Scaramouche, appeared with a lot of complaints.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a slightly Yandere and corrupted NSFW piece

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— 1600s / European Royalty AU

— There will be a lot of usage and mentions of toxic religion / culture towards women.

— There will be a whole NSFW part describing teenagers having sex

The party was going perfectly well as you planned it to be. Even without your presence at the main hall in a party that was supposed to be about you, you could hear the hundreds of voices and noises of silvers clicking. You thought that maybe making this party huge would distract your mind off from the most recent events of your life, and it did before your future husband ruined it for you and made you remind that you were just a loser in his game.

Of course it was him, it had to be him. Why did you even believe that he’d ever let you have that much of fun in a party? Now, you definitely did not want to party anymore, and luckily, you also couldn’t. Tears are a nightmare for eyes with mascara all around its eyelashes, the ink is strong. You looked a homeless woman as you crippled through each stair step in search of your room, stepping in the ends of your dress, defeated by the public humiliation he did to you. Why did he have keep making so many remarks about your excited manners towards the visitors, how you referred to him, and how much food you wanted to put in your plate? It made you wonder why did you ever accept marrying him the entire walk.

The story behind your marriage is simple. Your reputation in the city was bad, not enough to make your family miserable, but enough to make all the marriage suitors of your age refuse to take your hand in marriage. You were a girl who liked to have fun and take risks, not sit and chat for hours while drinking tasteless cups of tea in a time where all men wanted the complete opposite in their wives. You also had a very curious case in the past. You and your childhood best friend called Kunikuzushi, or Scaramouche just for you, had promised and announced a marriage that would take place as soon as both of you got inserted into society, but unfortunately, his school offered him a scholarship in France before you two could be inserted, and since you obviously couldn’t come with him, he was forced to choose between success or you. He ended up picking France, which was not a bad decision, but watching his departure was truly painful to your poor heart who had deeply fallen in love with him.

Because of this tragic love story that turned out to be a joke and your questionable personality, everyone lost interest in you and your family, which made you an unmarried woman for two years. In short, being unmarried at such age was a disaster. The only man that had proposed to you was the same one who shamed you in front of your whole family and all those hypocrite visitors. He was the double of your age, ugly, and had really strict standards for his future wife after the loss of his previous wife. After a few test dates with him, you realized that you really did not want to marry him and even repulsed the idea, not because of your love towards Scaramouche, but because he wasn’t ok in the head. He was weird to a point where he confessed he just wanted to make you his wife because he thought you looked very fertile and that you’d be an incredible mother for boys, since you ‘acted like one’, which would not be a bad thing if his eyes never seemed to linger in your crotch for too long and if he kept his hands to himself.

You did not want to spend the rest of your life stocked to such weird man at all. You didn’t feel anything for him and even felt sick in his presence, but your reputation was in such a terrible state that your parents pressured you with the worst and most disturbing threats ever to accept his offer during a huge argument about it.

You’ve always wished to marry a young man of your age, especially Scaramouche, but you had no right or power of choice in that situation. With growing tears in the back of your eyes, you accepted his act of putting a golden ring in your finger. The day still haunted your dreams and thoughts, making you want to cry every single day of your meaningless life just like today.

Luckily, all you had to do that after climbing those long, exhausting stairs was enter the first room at the right. As soon as you touched the golden, cold doorknob of it, you felt your body melt and your tears finally coming out of your eyes with freedom. You held them for so long, you just wanted to throw yourself at the bed and cry until you fell asleep. Still, as desperate as you were, you closed the door very gently, afraid of possibly calling attention.

You stepped out of your heels and finally ran to the bed you slept through your entire childhood. Due to the contact your face made with the sheets, you finally felt comfort to open your mouth and let all your whimpers out. Everything that led to your situation was hitting you again. Your affair with Scaramouche, his departure, the argument with your parents, the betrayal of society to you, the first appearance of that hag you were marrying, his proposal, and today. It all made you so anxious again that you really began to try shutting your mouth again multiple times and swallow all that voice down your throat again, but it only seemed to worsen.

“Y/N?” You suddenly heard a voice inside the room, slightly muffled due to your head being drowned at the wet sheets.

Oh no, someone spotted you.

The fear of it being your husband, an unreliable gossiper or your reputation worsening made you instantly jump up from that position, despite the weird feeling of familiarity on that voice.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll come down in a few—!” You tried making yourself look normal, but as soon as your eyes gazed upon the person’s shiny purple hair and eyes, you stopped acting.

It was the complete opposite of what your pessimism made you believe it could be, it was a miracle, it was Kunikuzushi. Although his face seemed to be very stressed and he entered the room without knocking, it did not make his appearance any less pleasant to you.

“Scara…” You called his nickname after those 2 years without speaking of it.

Your family made very clear to you that if you ever spoke of the man again to them or your husband, it would lead to your disownment, but calling his name out so passionately like that made all those threats feel useless to you. The first thing you did after realizing that it was really him, was begin walking to him. It was instinctual, so instinctual that your knees stopped trembling just for you to reach him and more tears started coming down. He looked so beautiful and mature… it made you feel even more bad about yourself. You wasted such a handsome man to one that probably has never even tried to look pretty to a lady.

“For how long have you…” You tried interacting, but as you soon as your hand managed to touch him, you broke down once again, this time in his embrace.

You felt so safe around Scaramouche and so hungry for him that you genuinely allowed your legs to stop working, and as expected, he held you with a warm embrace around your entire torso. When he realized you still were as light as a feather, he leaned one hand up to the back of your head and started cuddling it, his face still stressed.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” He whispered with that familiar angry voice of his you wished to hear again, slightly gripping tighter in your head.

The truth is that you secretly sent an invitation letter to the party to him, even if you believed that he would not be able to come or simply wouldn’t come. It was a normal envelope like everyone else’s, but you hoped he’d interpret it as a cry for help.

“W-Wha… what do you mean..?” You whimpered, looking up to his face.

Now that he was so much taller than you, the difference of height was surprising to you.

“I was talking to him, to find out where you were and to just know who the fuck were you marrying, and not only he said he didn’t know with the most careless tone I could hear, but he felt comfortable enough to confess a bunch of weird shit about his intentions with you and that he offended you in front of everyone in the dining table.” He told the story behind his arrival very angrily, but his voice was so mesmerizing to you that you barely paid attention to it. He still sounded like a twelve year-old boy before his departure, but now he sounded like an adult. “Did he really do that, Y/N?” He asked, pulling your chin to him to wake you up to reality, forcing you to go through all he said before again and stare at those addicting purple eyes.

Between all those whimpers and tears, you nodded weakly, making Scaramouche grit his teeth.

“And you’re really… marrying him?” You went quiet for some second in embarrassment after he made that question with the most disappointed tone you’ve ever heard from him yet.

But you had no choice rather than being truthful.

“Yes—”

“Why?” He asked instantly, some of his anger accidentally pouring out.

“I… had to… or I would be disowned and… and..!” You tried explaining, but the memories of the actual threat stopped you from venting too much.

Luckily, he understood your despair at that moment and embraced you again.

“I’m guessing this is all because of me, isn’t it?” He scoffed at himself, but you instantly nodded your head side to side, trying to tell him otherwise. “Oh, Y/N… I should’ve found a way to bring you to France with me…” He whispered in your ear and pulled you even closer to his body, truly seeming regretful of his decisions. “I thought I had forgotten about you over these two years, but here I am, raging over your marriage.” He vented, making your eyes finally open again, but in confusion.

“You’re… angry..?” You asked, leaning your chin up to him again.

“Way more than that, Y/N.” He said very directly, pushing you away from him gently, still holding on your shoulders as he precisely stared to the deepest parts of your eyes. “This has to stop.” He shook your shoulders, making you get even more confused and surprised at his sudden jealously. “I don’t care if it will ruin more of your little reputation, I can’t let you marry that prick.” He spouted more of his feelings, putting a hand back to reach the door behind him to bang it back to its place and spin the lock in knob, then going back to gripping on your shoulders tighter than before, making you slightly whimper at his firmness.

“W-What are you talking about, Scara..?” You asked, trying to believe he was not saying those things.

“Do you know why that man asked your hand in marriage, Y/N? I had a bit of hope that at least I lost you to a good man, but all he wants in you is your fertility and potential to be a mother.” He told you the details of it with a kind of disgust you had never seen on him, making you turn your face away from him in embarrassment of your decisions. “That’s fucking mental, Y/N, why the fuck are doing this?!” He shook your shoulders again, a little more aggressive as he tries to understand you the mentality behind your choices.

“And what else could I do, Scara?! If you know that it’s your fault that I got a bad reputation, why are you acting like this is unexpected?! I was unmarried for these whole two years, I had to accept this! You know how things work for women! If I don’t marry quickly, I’ll be forever stained with it like it’s written in my forehead! Do you know how much I had to fight and work to get this, huh?! Do you think I chose and love this?!” You vented it all out, screaming like you didn’t care about the possible consequences of it meanwhile Scaramouche looked at you in horror.

But you could see that you convinced him, now that he let you go and turned around, beginning to walk in circles in your room with his hands in his hips, thoughtful about you.

“I can’t let you do this, Y/N…” He whispered to himself as he nodded his head around multiple times and you stood weakly exactly where you’ve been this entire hug.

But after some circles, he started to slow down until he fully stopped in front of one of the room’s windows. He kept staring at the garden below the room through the glass, his back turned to you, but you could still feel the anxiety behind whatever he thought of.

His arms crossed firmly, his index finger tapping his arm, and at the same time he took a deep breath, like he was preparing for something.

“Marry me.” He stated, finally finding the courage to stare at you again.

You simply stared at him wordless in your shrunken position, completely vulnerable to his tall figure, although he was far from you. The room remained quiet because Scara needed a response to continue rambling about that brainstormed idea.

“I would’ve accepted losing you to a common man of our age, but not to an old hag with a simple wish to make an heir.” He commented as you thought of what to answer him.

“Scaramouche… are you nuts?! I already am engaged to him, all we need is the actual wedding! There’s nothing to be done about it unless you want to stain my reputation forever!” You finally spouted some of your emotions to him.

“Of course there is, Y/N! Listen to me…” He shouted at you as he approached to you again, holding on your arms again very firmly. “I just came back to this hellhole to see you, but I’ll be soon going back to England and most likely going to stay there for the rest of my life. If you dump this douchebag right now and marry me instead, I’ll take you out of here and implant you into a new society! See?! It really isn’t hard or risky and we will finally marry each other as we’ve always dreamed to! I still fucking love you so much, Y/N… You’ve grown so well and you look so fucking beautiful in this dress… I can’t lose you to that man at all.” He explained the plan to you in a desperate tone, and although you agreed with all of it, you kept your face as anxious as it was.

You definitely loved him back and wanted to run away with him, but how would he get rid of your husband or the church? How would you live knowing that you wasted two years of pure hard work because of the seduction of a man you’ve been lusting for, and who barely has a plan in his own? His plan seems so easily fragile… what if it breaks? You would most likely become the national shame for next centuries.

All those negative thoughts censored the good ones about his plan, making you look away from him as you nodded side to side firmly, making Scaramouche start breathing more nervously in despair.

“I can’t…” You initiated, thinking he’d instantly get mad, but when you realized he didn’t say anything back, and wanted to listen, you continued. “I spent two years fighting for this, Scara… I can’t just… drop everything for a plan that’s not even finished on its own…” You cried, trying your best to free away from his grip with ease.

“Oh, silly Y/N..! All I need now is to find out how will I get rid of that fucking prick, and then it’s done! You know it’s not a bad plan… I really just need to think about this part! I think I can safely state that we still love each other and crave for this… we can’t just pretend it doesn’t exist..!” He argued, banging your foreheads together with a sensible lust to bring your lips together.

“I cannot accept your offer until it’s fully completed, Scaramouche… I’m sorry. It still wouldn’t change the fact that you’ve broken my heart once.” You brought the topic back, which made him barely cry and tighten his grip on your shoulders in regret, feeling like he was losing you. “And… I’ve heard you’ve been seeing a woman named Kujou Sara… so how can I guarantee you’re not just playing with my heart and seducing me into carnal desires..?” You asked, making him genuinely scoff and giggle at your logic.

“Do you really think I’d go this far for carnal desires, Y/N? Wherever you heard about me and Sara, keep in mind that we didn’t work. Don’t you remember? Our mothers have always tried to push us together through our entire childhoods, but we repulsed each other so much that we preferred to bet on the luck of finding another partner! And trust me, Y/N, I had you in my mind this entire time.” He told his version of the story as he confessed his feelings for you. “I don’t wish to simply engage into animality with you, I want to be your fucking husband and the fucking father of your children.” He confessed, feeling the regret of his last actions hitting on him and the anger of your insistence of rejecting him, but you saw him stop for a moment to swallow everything down again and regain some self-control. “I love you, Y/N.” Those words came out of his mouth as easy as any other would, with a smile that you could feel was genuine, no matter how weird it looked.

The impact of his emotions on you made you weaken your body again, feeling safe in his grip no matter how weird he was acting. You felt like you were set back to his seduction, but you didn’t really care for it for that quick moment.

“I… I love you too, Scara, but I really can’t—”

…

!

In a blink of an eye, you saw the gap between your mouths close shut, finally making utility of the unnecessary contact between your foreheads. His lips were glossing yours, no matter if yours were supposed to belong to another man now. He had pulled you that close to him, no matter if you had or had not consented. He predicted that you’d simply accept it like a gift… and he wasn’t wrong.

Scaramouche’s tongue was invasive and hungry to get to feel more of your mouth, and that feeling just made you melt under his attack. Your back leaned backwards, making him have to hold you by your waist in a very hard angle while you held him by his cheeks, but it didn’t matter as long as he got to kiss you. Your tongue soon managed to join his rhythm, which made him groan. Everything between you got very hot and very quickly, only convincing you to kiss him more. It has been two years since you last saw, touched or kissed him, which means your hormones were surely acting higher than you.

You suddenly felt Scaramouche’s hands move to the back part of your tights and pull it up. You groaned in surprise but that didn’t stop you from savoring his lips. What truly made you two separate was the fact that Scaramouche started walking, and in a few steps, your back banged against a cold wall of your room beside your bed. That swift movement made a saliva chord come out from both your mouths, but was quickly ignored by you moving your hands behind his neck and hugging his waist with your legs to pull him to your mouth again, gripping on the back of his hair like you felt any sort of pain in that kiss.

You were almost feeling tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you felt all those years of longing being wasted, but before you could get any more emotional, you felt something gently rub in your crotch. It instantly made you feel uncomfortable, although you had no idea what it was, so you pushed Scaramouche backwards, separating your moths again, to see what it was.

Oh, lord. You two messed up.

It was a growing erection under his pants.

You instantly flinched away from it as a reaction, slightly screaming in fear of it.

“W-Wait..! No! We can’t do this, Scara!” You argued as you tried to push him away and kick the air with your feet.

“Why not, hum..?” He asked, not taking you seriously at all. “I thought you said you loved me too…” He joked, getting his face close to yours again for another kiss, but accidentally forcing the contact of his erection with your crotch even further.

“Seriously, Scara! Stop it!” You moaned as you felt him rub himself against your clothed clit, trying to push him away even harder.

Scaramouche grunted in frustration, but still decided to let you stand up in the ground again and step away from you. After some necessary breathes to recover, he finally decided to speak up.

“What’s wro—?”

SLAP!

You breathed in and out some extras times before using the same hand you used to smack his cheek to wipe the saliva away from your lips and speaking up for yourself.

“Don’t you ever do this to me again!” You argued, trying your best to not scream at him so loudly.

“What’s up with the sudden bipolarity, huh?” He asked in an ironic tone, caressing the cheek that has been slapped.

You had just forgotten how sarcastic and annoying Scaramouche was. It even made you wonder how did you befriend him in the first place.

“This is wrong, Scaramouche, even if I accepted your offer… it would be cruel to betray someone’s trust like this. Sorry if I fooled you by realizing this too late, but you know wives have to keep themselves pure before their marriage, so meanwhile we aren’t an oficial couple, I must keep myself pure for my future husband.” You argued in a more calm tone, rearranging your hair and dress.

“Pure?” He scoffed.

“Yes, Scaramouche. Pure as a saint.”

“There isn’t such thing as ‘purity’, Y/N, and you were never ‘pure’ too.” He ironized, copying your way to pronounce ‘pure’.

“What do you mean?” You asked, slightly losing your confidence as he made those two statements.

“Well… let’s just say I studied a lot about religion and science in France and stopped going to church or believing in God because I found science more logical—” He initiated, making you repulse him and his previous actions even more.

“W-Wha… what..?! Scara, this is devil’s work on you..!” You immediately replied.

“Quiet. I’m not done.” He tried shutting you, but you feared demonology too much to let him give you orders.

“I will not quiet down towards—!”

“Y/N, if you’re so loyal to your religion, why don’t you act like the submissive woman you’re supposed to be and let the man take lead?” He confronted in a harsh, cold tone, this time giving you a good reason to shut up. “When I say I don’t believe in God, I also mean that I don’t believe in Satan, hell or heaven.” He continued, completely ignoring your discomfort and fear.

You feared that Scaramouche you saw was just a demon morphing as him, or that he had allied with Satan, but you still felt like none of those negative thoughts made you like him less or feel less comfortable. According to his words, he really just seemed to have started seeing the world in a different perspective.

“Why would God want you to be ‘pure’ anyway? Why would he not want couples to know each other and be intimate before sealing their relationship as marriage?” He scoffed the logic behind that rule of your religion. “What would you do if that man you’re about to marry likes choking and hurting women physically during sex? I don’t think you’re into those things, so that’s why I’m asking… nor I think that man would be willing to adapt to what you like.” He crossed his arms as he confronted you again, but you didn’t want to say anything else. “And there’s also the fact that you still are not ‘pure’, Y/N, in fact, you’re one of the most impure women I’ve ever met.” He insulted you, making you gasp in shock with his audacity.

“How dare you insult me like this?!” You screamed back at him.

“Insult? It’s a mere fact, Y/N, unless if you consider what happened between us when we were 16, a day before my departure, something ‘pure’.” He scoffed, smirking as he saw your face stone in horror.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no…

No, no, no, no, no…

He’s right.

You are not pure.

“You opened yourself so easily to me… I was so glad I got to experience sex with you before leaving this stupid city.” He commented, making both of you remember of what happened enthusiastically, but you were still horrified with the incoming memories.

That day, you were simply sitting in Scaramouche’s bed with him, talking about how you felt about his departure. Not only you knew he was going to leave you, but another girl you two knew as kids, Kujou Sara, was also moving to France, and that made you feel extremely insecure about your slightly romantic relationship with him. You asked him if he planned marrying her if he didn’t come back, but he took it as an insult and instantly spilled out that if he could ever marry you, he would, but it was impossible at the moment because you two were too young for the church to allow it. From that point, things got hot and romantic very quick, and you two lost notion of time and morality as you two made love to each other for the first time in your lives.

“Do you… really promise to- ah~! marry me if you come back, Scaramouche..?” You asked between moans and whines as you hugged and scratched his back and he forced his hips into yours like a starved dog.

“Of course, Y/N, of cour—” He was about to answer, but a sudden gasp echoed in the room in the spot of the door, making you two stone in horror and stop everything.

“WHAT IN GOD’S NAME ARE YOU TWO DOING?!” Scaramouche’s mother, Raiden Ei, screamed at the both of you with a very noticeable disgust in her voice.

And you two were forced to stop.

“Yeah, right? How many slaps that costed you again? 50?” He asked as he realized you were having flashbacks of it.

Ei was not kind towards the situation you both were in and reported your sin to your family, which caused the biggest problems you had to face: your family’s scolding and not allowing that secret to spread. Your parents had gone so mad during their scolding that they instantly made you also receive punishment from the church to somehow recover what you lost that day. The sister who heard your forced confession betrayed your little trust and forced you to receive 50 slaps with a piece of wood in your bare nude buttocks. What hurt you most is that not only your lover couldn’t defend you but the sister did not forgive your sin and told you with the roughest voice tone she that you’d never get your purity back.

It was so traumatic and humiliating that your mind decided to blur those moments out of it to make your life less miserable, but now it has all been brought back by the man you wanted to defend you at that moment.

“You see, Y/N? We have stoped being ‘pure’ long time ago when we did that! We’re both screwed in this society, so if we stick together, nothing will change in our reputations! We’re perfect for each other, Y/N! Why can’t you see it?!” He whispered in your ear after walking up to you again, extremely desperate for your consent to kiss you one more time.

You didn’t want to admit that he was right about the logic of purity or you not being pure… you didn’t want to awaken those dark moments at all. What if someone was behind that door listening to it all..? It would truly be the end of your name in England.

“Come on, say it, Y/N… you know you still want to be my wife and get away from this hellhole of a city.” He begged with a petty voice, extremely lusty for you.

His cheeks were red and his mouth trembling to touch yours again.

You lowered your head, beginning to tear again as you resisted your desires, no matter how much it ached your heart.

But your need to cry was suddenly replaced by the sudden movement of one of his legs moving upwards, kneeing right under your crotch.

“No need to cry, my love… I’ll make sure that this guilt will vanish as soon as you agree to my plan of getting you out of this marriage… There is literally no good reason for you to say ‘no’..!” He whispered as he started rubbing his knee against your folds, causing to gently hiccup in tears and slight pleasure and try pushing him away. “See..?! You still like it when I touch you here… you want more, don’t you..? I don’t think even think I need to hear your voice to know it’s a ‘yes’!” He grunted under your neck as he begun moving a hand under your dress and kissing your neck.

No matter how much your memories made you feel horrible, you knew that Scaramouche would be the remedy of it. You knew that he would present you plenty pleasure if you accepted what he was trying to do with you right now, you knew he’d make you the happiest woman on Earth if things went well, you knew you’d love being the mother of his children, you could easily predict your future if you say ‘yes’ to him.

Your feelings are a mess, really. But now that they seemed to have finally stick with something, you didn’t want to let go.

“Oh, God! If you’re watching this, please forgive me for my sin ahead… I just want to feel him once again… I just want to spend some time with him!”

“Please don’t let this be a demon trying to take advantage of my weaknesses! Please let his plan be real and not an attempt to simply seduce me into carnal activities!”

“And if he really wants to be my husband… please let me have it! I really need it for my happiness!”

You said to yourself in your mind.

“Scara~…” You moaned out before he could your private spots.

“Yes, my love?” He answered excitedly, stopping his movements to hear what you had to say after moaning his name so perfectly.

“Please… get me out of here!” You begged, finally weakening your body for his benefit in that situation, making his purple eyes glow and widen in joy.

“Oh, Y/N, I will… I fucking will.” He groaned, instantly stopping his attempt in teasing your core and moving his hands to your tights to pull them upwards.

In seconds, you were spun around and thrown against your bed, but it really didn’t make you feel uncomfortable or any pain because the make-out session that begun was simply numbing your mind of everything around you. He was on top of you and perfectly positioned between your legs, making you able to feel his erection slightly poking and rubbing against your swollen cunt.

His hands were quick in beginning to push all the layers of your dress upwards as his mouth still pushed your head father into the mattress. He had no time to make a full preparation for the moment, nor did you want it. You just wanted to feel that man inside you already, anything blocking you from it was simply annoying, no matter if it was related to him making love to you.

His mouth suddenly separated from yours, making you open your eyes in agony of being too far from him, only to find him leaning his whole body upwards and his hands moving to your pantyhose like a starved dog. Unlike with the dress, his hands weren’t as gentle with your pantyhose, barely ripping it apart as he brutally pulled them down.

“S-Scara..! Be more careful, those were expensive!” You asked slightly stressed, trying your best to close your knees from him, but he held them like he’d die if you did that.

“S-Sorry.” He said absolutely careless about it, only focusing on the teasing view of your exposed tights and underwear. “Fuck…” He grunted as he moved his hands to his belt.

He was quick on undoing his annoying pants and you helped him by sliding your underwear down too, saving some time for him. He smirked at your will to commit carnal activity with him as he grabbed his own cock and pulled it out, beginning to stroke it gently in front of you. You were somehow too ashamed to look at it, so you simply threw your head aside and moved a hand to your wet entrance as your body relaxed, gently inserting two fingers inside it to also prepare yourself even more for him.

“God, Y/N… you never fail to make me as hard as a brick. Can you even guess how many times I touched myself for you?” He smirked as his cock twitched at the view of you preparing yourself to receive him.

He felt like he could cum already if he kept stroking himself with that view in front of him, but he really was just preparing himself for the moment too.

As soon as he felt a sudden hard pulse from his cock, he knew he was ready and leaned down close to you again, using a hand to take yours away from your cunt and properly position his cock in front of it.

Your hands went to the corners of the pillow under your head, gripping on them nervous about his length.

“Are you ready, my love?” He asked between some shaky breathes.

“Yes…” You whispered, and he finally begun slowly pushing his way inside you.

The scream that came out of you as a reaction to it would only get higher and higher the deeper he went, making your entire body crumble under him for a quick moment when he finally stopped at the tip of your cervix, successfully inserting all his length inside you. Despite knowing that in your religion sexual pleasure was sinful too, even in marriage, that heat wave his entrance gave you was too breathtaking to make you care about those stupid rules.

“Lord almighty…” He groaned and smirked at the sensation of being surrounded by your mushy, tight walls. “If only I had time and condition to see you naked again… thank God I’ll make you my wife, Y/N, because I want us to do this every single day of our lives.” His voice cracked multiple times during his speech as he begun creating a slow rythym to his hips, pleasuring taking over his senses too.

He was slowly pulling out and then rocking all the way in quickly, creating a tortuous rhythm that mostly explored your G spot, which only made you feel weaker and weaker under him. Unintentional plap noises were coming out from the rocking of both your hips and his balls every time he thrusted, which would be something you’d be worrying about if your mind wasn’t numbed by the overwhelming pleasure you received. Tears were beginning to form in ecstasy as your legs instinctively hugged his hips tighter, wishing for more depth into his movements.

“Do you really think… that man would or could ever… make you feel like this, Y/N?” He asked, pausing to moan and breathe sometimes, not minding the fact that you barely had any consciousness left to answer.

“N-N… no…” You moaned out, making his smirk widen.

“Only I can… and I fucking love it.” He whispered to himself as he slightly sped up his rhythm.

The way he whispered with that husky voice made you feel his dick suddenly get bigger and more invasive inside you, making Scaramouche grunt, although you didn’t understand what happened.

“Fuck… if you keep tightening like this, I might be unable to keep making my way inside…” He teased right in your left ear, making you throw your head aside even more.

His blood circulation felt like it had dropped all the way to his dick, because somehow he managed to get even harder than he was with the struggle of passing through such a tight space as your pussy.

Due to him getting his face so close to your head, Scaramouche moved his mouth to your neck, his harsh breathing tickling your warm skin too. Your legs twitched in surprise and Scaramouche grunted again, meaning that you probably tightened your cunt around him again.

And it was definitely the case since now you could hear some low, soggy noises whenever he pulled out from you, something that was not happening until this point.

“You still like it when I fuck you nice and slow like this, don’t you..?” He asked, making you face away from the moment in front of you. “Don’t be ashamed, I love making this to you…” He teased again before going back to his make-out session with the muscles of your neck.

Your hands finally got enough from endlessly gripping in a pillow and moved to his back, scratching it in the same intensity as his thrusts, making him slightly crumble on top of you too. But since he had his clothes on, his back was mostly protected from your nails unlike your poor, swollen cunt, being savored so relentlessly no matter how fragile and sensitive it is for his touch.

“Tell me, Y/N… who’s your husband..?” He asked, stopping his attack in your neck again just to lean up and stare at you with those hungry, shining purple eyes, unintentionally getting your hands away from his back too.

“Y-You…” You answered, still staring at him with your pathetic sex face.

“Who’s ‘you’?” His menacing voice made you remember of just how Scaramouche liked to explore everyone’s limits and capacities just to make himself more proud.

You had fallen for these tricks multiple times as a kid, so you eventually learned how to avoid them. And although you knew he was doing it again now, it didn’t seem like a bad idea to make him more invested in your capacity of being submissive.

“Scaramouche… or… Kunikuzushi… Raiden…” You used all your energy to make your response the most teasing it could to fuel his pleasure.

And it worked, since you saw his eyes and smirk widen in lust as he heard you perfectly answer him.

“Yeah… that’s right. I am your husband and will soon be the father of your children… it’s just very unfortunate that I can’t afford to cum inside you and impregnate you right now… because I really wanted to.” He answered in a low tone, his constant breathing taking over his voice, speeding up his thrusts to a more tiring one, like he was beginning to get seriously involved with the moment.

You felt so sinful on allowing yourself to be so kinky and aroused with Scaramouche’s kinky personality too, but God would forgive you for this, wouldn’t he? He is such a nice person… he can feel that you’re just trying to feel your loved one again, right?

“You’re mine, Y/N… mine, mine, mine…” He grunted, leaning down again, but this time to kiss you with all his hunger and passion.

And before you could hug him again, he grabbed both your wrists who were gripping the pillow again and locked them right there, having full control of you. And you, in pleasure at feeling so confident to let him deal with you as he wished, arched your back up and widened the gap between your legs, allowing the mess of the sex between your hips to have even more depth.

It didn’t matter if your brain barely had any oxygen to process everything that was going on, Scaramouche still knew exactly how to bring you to ecstasy even if he got the chance to have sex with you once without even having an orgasm. Did he really study that much in France? It even made you jealous for a quick moment before your mind went numb again because of the lack of air that passed through your mouth in that kiss.

And Scaramouche was mean enough to force your tongue follow his in the deepest corners of your mouth, taking over anything that you had control of at that point. But don’t worry, Scaramouche was struggling on his own. He was giving the job of keeping himself on top of you only to his arms, which was causing an agonizing pain that he was trying to ignore. His sloppy socks were also making hard for his feet to keep his hips at that perfect angle that gave sharp thrusts at your weak spots, needing to crawl up again multiple times.

Luckily, he was feeling something build up inside his crotch, meaning that both your agonies would be done soon.

He sped up his rythym, causing you to clench around him once again for that momentary peak. It really felt like you were simply sucking him in rather than him thrusting.

He suddenly separated your tongues and leaned up his entire torso at the same time. His hands also moved back to your hips, pulling them up to successfully thrust you rough and fast as he smirked in pleasure of miring your defeated body shaking and trembling in rythym of his violent sex with hungry, widened eyes.

Due to the new position and rhythm, the bed begun doing the classic cranky noises whenever it moved up and down too. But, honestly… you guys had locked the door, in a took at second floor of a mansion where music was taking over everyone’s ears in the first floor… why the fuck would you care about it?

Your hands, no matter how weak they felt, moved to his wrists, simply hugging and caressing them in acceptation of his control over you, almost telling him that you desired him to keep controlling you until it ached. Your head was also thrown back as a reaction to his brutality, also feeling something build up inside your crotch.

“You’re gonna cum too, aren’t you? It’s getting way too sloppy down here…” He scoffed as before finally allowed himself to also fully focus on bringing an orgasm to both of you like a dog in heat.

His head arched all the way up too, beginning to also focus on feeling every single curve of your wet walls surrounding him perfectly. He was so focused on pleasing himself with your defeat rather than your pussy that he didn’t realize just how well you were taking him inside you.

“So fucking tight and warm f’me… it’s addicting, I’ll be honest..!” He used all his remaining energies to make that comment, and you accepted it like he had complimented your dress.

That peak felt like heaven to the both of you, but before you two could turn off your minds from each other and appreciate the perfection of the sex happening between your hips, all the orgasm that had been built up to this point suddenly bursted out disastrously from both your systems, causing a deep groan to come out of him and a loud scream to come out of you.

Scaramouche was still paying attention to the moment because he knew he couldn’t finish inside you, so as soon as he felt his dick pulse hard because of his seed aching to come out, he pulled out from you and covered his tip with a hand, twitching in the agony of it wishing it was still shoved inside you as it spilled seed inside your womb while you simply allowed your own fluids to overcome your insides until it was tipping on your entrance.

Scaramouche was so shaky that it actually brought him to stop smirking and hiss with his teeth gritting on each other, still miring the scene of the disaster you two created and the cream pie in your entrance, swollen in red.

“Fuck…” He grunted, taking his hand to his eyes when his dick finally stopped spilling cum, getting annoyed at the mess it was. “Stay right there… I’ll take care of this mess.” He said, back to his normal voice tone as he crawled away form your body.

And now that fresh air could reach your body, you could finally feel just how sweaty you had gotten. You still had dress on, so you knew that the maids of the home would not have a fun time cleaning it up. Your makeup was probably also completely ruined too but you couldn’t confirm it. Scaramouche was probably feeling it too, since he also had clothes on, even more than you.

You couldn’t even tell where Scaramouche had headed because you all did was focus on staring the rooftop, but he soon came back with his hands rubbing each other under a cloth, another one in his pocket, and with the clothes he had taken away from you.

“I’ll tell the people downstairs you suddenly got sick, okay? Don’t worry, they have no idea what a person looks like after sex, they like to keep themselves ‘pure’ after all…” He explained as he wiped out your cream pie and put your panties and pantyhose back to their places in you.

And right after, he pulled out the other cloth in his pocket, folded it some times, rested it on your forehead and covered you with the sheets of the bed to make the play of ‘being sick’ more believable to whoever would come in to check on you.

“Expect me to knock on your window every night from now on, ok? Just like I did as a kid. I’ll be coming up to tell you how our little plan is doing and how it will work and to also check up on you.” He said with a surprisingly cute smile as he patted the top of your head and kissed your forehead, even it was covered by the cloth. “See you soon, my love, I love you.” He said before leaning up again and walking towards the door while rearranging his tie, closing it so gently that you couldn’t even hear its knock.

“I told you it would work, Y/N… if only I could show you the face the priest made when I gave him the money to make a fake marriage certificate… it was hilarious..! But it doesn’t matter to you now, does it? I know it’s hard to keep up with me, but this is the only way we can go for a fourth kid…”

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

Taglist: @kindofscenic @kindofshyent @the-stinky-winky @amoyanderes

[im-subtextsexual]

I’m glad so many people picked up on the vibes between Eloise and Cressida. Not a ship I ever considered before, but the tension was palpable. I’ve been a Queer Eloise truther since reading the books. Her portrayal on the show only made it more obvious in my mind. I didn’t think the writers would ever go there, but the set up is just so explicit, now I’m not sure. I don’t think they’d actually make Eloise / Cressida canon, but I do think they’re testing the waters for wlw Eloise. And it makes perfect sense. 

First off, the character is queer (I’ll hold off from labeling her a lesbian outright, because there’s definitely room for other identities like bi, demi, ace…. etc.) Even in the books. I legitimately think Julia Quinn accidentally wrote a sapphic character and then didn’t know what to do with her. So what we got is “To Sir Phillip, With Love”, widely considered to be one of the worst in the series. Believe me, if there’s any story that could stand to deviate from the books, it’s this one. And the story could so easily be adapted to a wlw romance, it would be a wasted opportunity not to do it. Like… the story would be better if they tweaked it to fit a queer canon. AND it could be done in a historically accurate way to shut up the naysayers that “a lesbian storyline wouldn’t fit in this universe.” How? Allow me to explain.

*SPOILERS FOR BRIDGERTON SERIES BOOK 5*

In the book, Eloise strikes up a correspondence with Sir Phillip Crane. Yes, THAT Phillip, the one currently married to Marina from season 1&2. Marina kills herself because she can’t stand to be married to Phillip and deal with their children in the wake of her lover / his brother’s death. His initial interest in Eloise is to find a mother for his children. She is intrigued by his intelligence and decides she doesn't want to be alone, but isn’t necessarily eager to marry or have a family. Due to romance novel shenanigans, she runs away to Phillip's house and is forced to marry him. Even as they grow to kind of love each other, it's far from some grand romance. It’s the very definition of “settling”. The most interesting part is the narrative structure of their story being told through letters in the beginning. We could keep all that, but make it gay. 

*Imagine*

Eloise meets some dapper gentlemen new to the marriage mart. We’ll call him Emmett. Very little is known about Emmett and his family as they keep largely to themselves at their estate in the countryside. The only thing that’s widely known is the family suffered a tragic accident where the man of the house and his oldest daughter died, leaving his son (the other twin) to take on the responsibility of rank and title very early. Emmet is making a rare appearance in London to find a wife (there are rumors of stipulations in his inheritance requiring a match). ALL the debutantes are fawning over him because he’s mysterious and extraordinarily good-looking. One might even say “pretty”… To everyone’s great surprise the season’s most eligible bachelor takes a special interest in Eloise after overhearing her talking about her disdain for the social convention of marriage, and how she would only consider it if it were an in-name-only, marriage of convenience. Emmett strikes up a conversation with Eloise and she is taken by his humor, wit and shockingly deep empathy for the limitations society puts on women. They continue to gravitate to each other through the first few events of the season, but Emmett has to return home suddenly because of a family emergency. Eloise is shocked to find herself disappointed, but they promise to write. Cue the correspondence romance.

Eloise grows more and more smitten with Emmett every letter she receives, but still has the same reservations about marriage especially when she thinks of the intimacy a relationship like that would require. When Emmett hints that he may want more than friendship, Eloise's feelings get the better of her and she goes to visit Emmett unannounced. He is shocked to see her, but let's her stay and she gets to know his mother and two younger sisters. The Bridgertons go looking for Eloise, worried something has happened to her. When she is found to have been staying for days in an unwed man's home without a chaperone, the potential scandal causes Anthony to force Eloise and Emmett to marry. Surprisingly, Emmett actually agrees so Eloise does too (all of this is essentially what happens in the book).

Eloise confesses to Emmett that she's nervous/resistant to physical intimacy, but he assures her they never have to be together that way. In fact, he would prefer the marriage of convenience they always talked about. Eloise is relieved until their kiss at the wedding sparks an attraction she wasn't expecting. They spend the first month or so of their marriage sleeping in separate rooms, enjoying each other's company, and letting the tension build. One night, Eloise's control and curiosity finally snaps and she goes to Emmett's room to initiate a physical relationship. She catches Emmett off guard in his sleeping clothes which makes it VERY clear... Emmett is a woman (cliffhanger of episode 4, and where we deviate from book canon to make it queer).

After the initial shock, Eloise allows her new "husband" to explain. Emmett is really Emma, the daughter believed to have died in a carriage accident with her father so many years ago. It was her twin brother that actually died, but since there were no other male heirs, Emma's family fortune would have gone to a distant uncle who is cruel and abusive. To save them of that fate, Emma's mother conspired with the local coroner to make it look like Emma was the one who died, so "Emmett" could inherit everything. Emma has been living as Emmett ever since, successfully keeping up the deception by keeping a low profile in society. The only reason Emma came to London that year is because her uncle died, and a cousin had come around asking questions hoping to inherit. She thought getting married would help secure her identity as Emmett and the cousin would back off. At first Eloise is outraged. She feels betrayed by Emma's duplicity, and is terrified if any of this ever got out everyone they know would be ruined forever. She agrees to keep the secret to save her family's reputation, but shuns Emma. Eventually, Emma (already aware that she's in love with Eloise) attempts to make amends and Eloise is charmed enough that she relaxes back into the relationship they had before the Big Reveal. The only problem is the attraction is still there, even more so now that Eloise knows the truth. Things come to a head, and they go at it Bridgerton style.

Emma and Eloise live happily in a true marriage for a bit until Cressida and Penelope come for a visit. They both find out about Emma, but are sworn to secrecy. Pen easily swears her loyalty (having already suspected Eloise), but Cressida is sickened. In a rage, she threatens to out them all, and storms back to London. Eloise follows her and begs Cressida to keep the secret, and tries to explain why the "wrong" feelings she has for Emma are very right for her. To Eloise's surprise, Cressida isn't upset about what she's doing with Emma, but who she's doing it with. She didn't know what they're doing was an option; that she was an option. Cressida confesses that if she'd known a life with Eloise was a choice she could make, it's the life she would have chosen. Eloise lets Cressida down easy by explaining they didn't have that choice. Everyone in the ton knows who they are. The only reason her relationship with Emma works is because of the ruse that allows Emma to be Emmett. Cressida takes this in stride, and vows to keep the secret, but her mother overhears and causes the biggest scandal London Society has ever seen.

The Bridgertons and a few friends (like Lady Danbury) are as understanding as possible, but the rest of the ton is rabid. Things escalate to the point where Emma and Eloise have to appear before the Queen. Emma pleads her case about pretending to save her family, and insists that Eloise didn't know until well after they were married so she's innocent. Eloise can't help herself and gets on her soapbox about the way society limits women, and that the Queen should understand their plight. Shockingly, she does. She annuls their "marriage" (because they didn't consummate anything... RIGHT?!) but she agrees to let Emma control her family's estate until one of her sisters produces a male heir. After that, she and Eloise will receive a pension from the Crown so they can live independently (the real Queen Charlotte actually did this for suspected historical sapphic couple The Ladies of Llangollen). Since Emma and Eloise would never be able to find husbands now, they decide that they'll just be two spinsters growing old together in their house in the countryside. You know... just two gal pals. No one believes that shit, but they rarely interact with the ton, so they're largely left alone to live as they please.

Happy ending, close to canon, historically accurate, and super gay. It's not that hard. You're welcome.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

It wasn’t over, it still isn’t over. (Bandit cowboy! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader) Part 2

Wake up babe, new cowboy Miguel fic just dropped! This part was heavily inspired by the notebook. Period pieces are not my strong suit so apologizes if it’s not good. Not proofread, enjoy!

(Y/N)-Your name.

Cursing, mentions/usage of alcohol, attempted robbery/theft, mentions of guns, Miguel jokes about manhandling you but nothing actually happens, mentions of sexual acts, but nothing happens.

Word Count: 2.3k

Part 1

Masterlist

—

Five years.

Five years since you had last seen the cowboy who had stolen your heart.

You had graduated college and moved out of your parents home, moving a few towns over, nowhere near a big city like you lived in during your youth in the East but a lot larger than the one you had lived during the whole Miguel incident. You lived in a nice home, gotten a job as a teacher for the younger kids in town and… you were recently engaged.

Your fiancé was a nice man, sweet, understanding, kind, easy on the eyes, you liked him a lot, the only problem is, you didn’t love him. You should feel bad about getting married to a wealthy man who you didn’t even see as more than of a friend, but at the same time, your mother thought it would be best to marry you off to her friend’s son that just so happened to be inheriting his father’s liquor business when he settled down. It was a marriage of convenience if anything, at least he was polite with you despite neither you or him having any romantic feelings, if anything it made the whole thing a bit easier for you. Growing content with the fact that this would turn into your future children’s definition of love.

Five years to grow from a silly lovestruck teenager into a young woman with responsibilities and a bright future ahead of her, and you still thought about him. You can't help but frantically Miguel’s name under the obituary section of the town’s paper, unknowingly breathing a sigh of relief when his name wouldn’t appear. Although it was foolish, and despite no longer living in the same small town as your parents, you couldn’t help but feel a bit bitter at the fact he hasn’t found you yet. Was he even attempting to look for you? With a reputation like his, you’re certain you weren’t the first girl he’s charmed to get under his sheets… or in your case, jail cell. So, eventually, you stopped hoping, if he hadn’t found you during the last five years, he surely wasn’t looking. Why should you?

—

“Darling.” Your fiancé, Austin, called out for you before rounding the corner that connected the living room into the kitchen. You hummed in response as you kept your eyes on the stack of papers you were currently grading for your students, a pen in your dominant hand as your free one tapped a mindless tone to help keep you concentrated. “Put the papers down and take a break will you? You’ve got all week to grade those tests.” You let out a huff and a whine as you put the pen down, he was right. Your eyes keep unfocusing and your wrist was being to grow sore, making your fiancé tsk. “I don’t understand why you don’t just quit, I make enough to support us both.”

“I should,shouldn't I…” You contimplacted with a weary chuckle, and although your tone was joking, you were seriously considering it. You adored your students with all your heart, you really did. But the school was putting so much pressure on you because they refused to hire another teacher to help lessen your workload. So you and two other teachers were juggling a handful of 300 seven year olds, it was a lot… to say the least. You picked yourself up from your seat to stretch your body out, before turning to Austin. “Now was that all you came to tell me?” You asked in a playful tone.

“No, actually… I came to ask for a favor.” He admitted, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. “Ya know I’ve got that… liquor convention event out of town this weekend, right?” You nodded in confirmation, “well, I was wondering if you could do me the favor of just checking in on my office while I’m gone. I’ve heard a lot about break ins and whatnot during these times, just drop by for a few minutes for the 4 days that I’ll be gone.”

You tapped the nonsensical rhythm again as you thought about it, it wasn’t too much of an ask, you’d just drop by for a few minutes a day, you shrugged. “Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?”

—

Saturday afternoon, your first day off and your third alone. Grateful for the ability to sleep in and being about to eat a well rounded breakfast. After doing your usual morning routine, and having changed into one of your simpler dresses to go out and run some errands for the day.

Gone out to get groceries, send out a letter to your parents, went to the tailors to drop off some Austin’s shirts to be hemmed since you didn’t feel like sitting down all to do it yourself, even finished grading the last of the test all before noon ended. After tidying up your work from its usual spot from the kitchen table, you made yourself a quick lunch and went to read a few chapters of your book on the couch. Only to end up falling asleep, and once you woke up, you glanced at the clock-shit.

“It’s half past five?! I was supposed to go to his office an hour ago!” You yelled to no one but yourself as you quickly got up from your spot on the couch, fixing your hair quickly as you threw on your coat, and made your way back out the door.

—

“I told ya boys this heist would be easy… if we leave by dusk we could hit up that train that passes by el dorado tomorrow evening…” Miguel chuckled as he tossed his now full bag of valuables to his brother, who then passed it over Peter would load it to one of their horses that they had waiting for them around the back of the building.

After that night he had escaped, it took him about a month to find his partners in crime, following their trail through stolen newspapers from random porches and the knowledge of how their usual trail was, luckily they had kept his horse safe and well taken care of too.

“One more bag then we’re as good as gone.” Miguel said with a smirk, making Gabriel Let out a laugh and a clap. Right when Miguel was going to prep the last bag, the faint noise of rushing made all three men stop in their tracks. Before he sent his younger brother a glare and he hissed in a low tone through his teeth. “Pinche cabrón- I thought you said this place would be empty all weekend.” (Fucking dumbass)

“I thought it would!” He whispered-shouted back, before they heard the door creak open.

“Fuck-okay… um, go check if it’s the sheriff.” He quietly ordered Gabriel, before turning to Peter, “Get the horses ready incase we needa’ book It.” With a nob both males did as told, as Miguel quickly went to pack the last bag.

When his younger brother entered the front room, he swore he heard him mutter the words “hello pretty lady” before the muffle sound of rustling and some high-pitched yelping, but never was a shot fired, so clearly it couldn’t have been someone to play an immediate threat. Just as he was finishing tying up the bag, Gabriel came back into the room, but not alone.

“Look at what I found, it must be his little wife.” He said almost mockingly as he hazardly pulled you into the room and pushed you into the room in front of Miguel’s feet, but with your face being tilted down as you caught yourself from falling face first onto the wooden floor.

“Careful!” You yelled as you try to collect yourself, once you get yourself to look up at the bandit you were dropped in front of, your scowl immediately turned into once of disbelief, and it seems his expression matched yours.

You both seem to have froze up in time as you both did nothing but stare at each other, Gabriel just crossed his arms and raised a brow, Peter came jogging in to inform his friends the horses are ready when he saw the odd scene, opting to keep his mouth shut.

Finally, you came back to life as you blinked, as if expecting his to disappear right before your very eyes again, and when he didn’t, you finally whispered a faint. “…Miguel?”

“…(Y/N)…” You nodded your head, despite it not being a question, and he cleared his throat, not breaking eye contact with you as he spoke his next orders to Peter and Gabriel. “Unload all that shit and put it back.”

—

He had told Gabriel and Peter to go on to do the train heist without him, and that he'd meet up with them afterwards. Saying he had “unattended business to take care of”. So now here he was, in your kitchen, only being lightened up by a few candles as darkness overtook the sky. Both of you sharing drunken giggles over dinner. Miguel’s black cowboy hat that was certainly too big for you sitting on top of your head as you sip on your beer.

“That hat looks adorable on you.” Miguel chuckled, making you shake your head with a giggle, your free hand going to rest on top of the hat to help keep it stabilized.

“It’s so big!” You countered as you take the hat off and went to hand it back to Miguel, who grabs it and sets it back on his head.

“You know you shouldn’t be wearing just anyone’s hat. Ya know what they say about wearing a man’s cowboy hat.” He joked as he put down his now empty bottle, chuckling when he saw your face contour in confusion.

“What do they say?” You asked curiously, making Miguel’s smirk widen.

“Wear the hat…” he tapped the brim on the hat for emphasis, “Ride the cowboy.” He finished, making you gasp dramatically.

“Miguel! That’s inappropriate!” You pretended to be offended, but you couldn’t help but crack a smile near the end of you reprimanding him.

“Oh please, you act like you haven’t before, why not again? Unless you want me to come over then and manhandle you.” He was only joking of course, he may have been a thief and a murderer but he’d never hurt a woman, especially not you. You let out a faux gasp, playing along as your right hand goes to your chest for emphasis.

“You wouldn’t dare. I’m a married woman.” You said in a softer tone, going to sip your bottle to finish it off. You haven’t really told him you were going to be getting married soon, even though he knew you were in a relationship, he didn’t quite know how serious it was.

“Not yet.” He replied almost immediately, shaking his head as his playful tone dropped to a more serious yet still gentle tone. The soft smile stays on his lips but it didn’t meet his eyes anymore when you raised your hand to show off the silver band that decorates your ring finger, the diamond shining even only in the candlelight. It took you a moment too long to realize this.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, the start of a giggle comes out with your words but they quickly die down in your throat as the once playful atmosphere starts to turn more serious.Miguel just shakes his head as a hand goes to rub at his chin.

“Nothing nothing… just didn’t think you’d ever get married… thought what we had was something real.” He admitted, eyes casted downwards as he goes to fidget with a bent half beer bottle cap. You let out a scoff, offended by his words.

“Don’t try and think I just forgot about you the moment my father dragged me out of that door,” your brows furrowed and your arms crossed on the wooden table as you started to chastise him, “I was stuck on you for five years Miguel. Five. Years.” You emphasized the two words with taps on the table. “Don’t get me wrong, Austin is a great guy, but it was my parents' idea for me to marry him. They thought it was a good way to get me to stop thinking about you-“ You shouldn’t be admitting that outloud but the buzz made your mind hazy.

“Do you love him?” He interrupted you, eyes burning into yours, those same intense eyes you had dreamed about as you slept, you had to look away.

“It’s not that simple Miguel-“

“But it is.” He insisted, standing up from his seat, the chair screeching as it tried not to topple over. “You either love him or you don’t.”

“I’m not doing this with you Miguel.” You shook your head as you stood as well, going to clean up the mess you two had made, trying to erase any evidence you two were there.

“Too bad, I’m not just gonna drop this and let you disappear from my life, I’m not losing you again.” He declared, you weren’t going to justify his admission with a response, but as you go to pick up a few empty bottles, they slip from your hands, cracking into hundreds of small shreds as Miguel’s hands turn you around to face him. A shocked gasp begins to leave your lips before it is quickly swallowed up by his. You know you should push him off, but you couldn’t help but melt underneath his touch.

Miguel O’Hara was a criminal, a thief of many things and no matter how much you try to stop him, he’ll always find a way to steal your heart all over again.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @xevita @marshhbs @inlovewithpandora @vera4luv @mcmiracles @eddieslooneymoonie @to-the-endoftheline

[favefandomimagines]

Baby on Board (e.b)

Summary: you find out your pregnant with Buck’s baby and have no idea how to tell him or how he will react.

AN: IM BAAAAACK (one time thing) you can thank 911 for that because we all know i have a soft spot for Evan Buckley

It felt like the world became one big blur. Everything around you seemingly fell out of focus as you stared down at the positive pregnancy test in your hand. A mixture of fear, nerves and excitement settled into your stomach.

In any other instant, you’d be ecstatic. If you were following your life plan correctly, you’d be married and have a steady job before getting pregnant.

But you weren’t following your life plan at all. You were in a steady relationship for a few years but you didn’t know if marriage was in the cards yet. You didn’t know how Buck felt about marriage. You definitely didn’t know how he was going to feel about a baby. How were you supposed to tell him?

You thought a baby would for sure ruin whatever plans Buck had. You were terrified of his reaction. You loved Buck more than anything and of course you wanted a family with him. But was it too soon?

In a wave of panic, you grabbed your purse and your keys and left the apartment. You had no idea where to go at first, all of your friends were Buck’s friends.

Eddie was always nice to you and you were closer to him than anyone else. You had hoped he wouldn’t be angry or upset that you were putting him in this situation but you needed advice.

The only reason you knew Eddie was home was because him and Buck were on alternating schedules. Eddie worked overnight and Buck worked during the day.

When Eddie opened the door, he was surprised to see you standing on his porch with tears in your eyes. “Y/N? Are you okay?” Eddie asked, grabbing hold of your hand entry and brought you inside.

“I need your help, actually. Well, more like advice.” You spoke. “What’s going on?” Eddie questioned. “I’m pregnant. Obviously it’s Buck’s but how am I supposed to tell him? We haven’t talked about kids yet, hell we haven’t even talked about marriage that much. I just, I don’t know what to do.” You explained, the tears falling.

Eddie took you in his arms and hugged you tightly, mainly just to calm you down. “First, take some breaths. You’re going to be okay. Second, I think Buck is going to be ecstatic.” He said. “But what if-“ you started before Eddie cut you off. “No buts. Sure it’s not the most conventional way to have a baby, but I hear how Buck talks about you. He talks about like you’re the center of the universe. Technically, you are, at least to him,” Eddie started.

“Buck loves you. There is nothing that would make him not love you. And he was born to be a dad and you’re going to give him that.” He finished. You sniffled and wiped the tears from your face.

“What if you’re wrong?” You whispered. “Hey, you came here for a reason. You know I’m not wrong.” He said. “How did Shannon tell you? If you don’t mind me asking.” You asked. “She knew I was enlisting. So she just said it, didn’t want to wait any longer. Especially if I didn’t make it home.” He answered.

You nodded your head slightly and let out a sigh of relief. “I’m scared.” You said. “You are one of the strongest people I know. You can do this.” Eddie said.

You thanked him again, very grateful you went to him other than someone else. Now all you had to do was wait.

—

Buck was due to be home any minute and you just finished making him his favorite breakfast; waffles, bacon, eggs sunny side up. He’d know something was up because the last time you made him that breakfast was when you told him you loved him for the first time.

“Honey, I’m home.” He teased, entering the home. “Hey, how was your shift?” You asked. “Good, just run of the mill stuff. What’s with the breakfast?” Buck asked.

You were quiet for a moment, that being enough for Buck to see something was up. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?” He asked, approaching you. “I need to tell you something. Something really important.” You said.

“Okay. You’re kind of freaking me out though.” Buck replied with a small laugh.

“I’m pregnant, Buck.” You finally said. At first, the room was quiet and you feared the worst. 

The voice in the back of your head said he was going to run out the door and you’ll never see him again. 

“You’re pregnant?” He questioned. “I’m sorry.” You said. “No, no, why are you sorry? Don’t be sorry, not for this.” Buck said. You looked up at him and saw the way his eyes lit up and the smile on his face. “You aren’t mad?” You questioned. 

“Of course I’m not mad. I could never be mad at you.” Buck said, taking your hand. “I-I know this isn’t the best way for us to start a family but-“ You started. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” He interrupted, pulling you into an embrace.

Buck held you for a moment, feeling like everything was falling into place for him. For so long he felt like he was at a standstill. That there was no real progress happening in his life.

But now, he was going to be a dad.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He said sweetly to you. “I love you too.” You replied. Buck leaned in and kissed you sweetly before pulling you into his arms.

“Does anyone else know?” Buck asked. “I-I panicked when I found out and I didn’t know how you’d react so I went to Eddie. So only him.” You said.

Buck smiled widely at you, holding you close. “We’re having a baby.” He said. “Yeah, we’re having a baby.” You replied.

The rest of the night, all Buck could talk about was baby names, if it was going to be a boy or a girl, buying a house. Everything was all falling into place for the both of you.

[cozymoko]

Ohh!!! Can i have fruitykawa with a reader who's kind of insecure about their relationship with him? Like,yes she's aware that they are married and all,but Fruity is such a wealthy (and handsome) man that surely there are alot of women around him. It makes her feel upset and tries to distance herself from him.

🌕 anon

ALWAYS, MY BELOVED

It's been a while since I updated. Shoutout to my homie, 🟡 anon for this request. Kinda got burnt out at the end, but I tried my best. Enjoy~!

Pairing: Hachiro Furukawa x Female! Reader (1.9k words)

Format: Headcanons, mini scenarios

WARNING(S): yandere themes, jealousy, insecurity, mentions of cutting (plastic surgery).

Synopsis: Hachiro Furukawa, my oc, with a wife who's insecure due to him being so handsome! (≧∇≦)/

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

NAVIGATION 🍮

Being WEDDED to the BEST is not for the weak-spirited. You had to appear stronger — better than the average woman so that they wouldn't dare question the legitimacy of your place. With your status, a ring costing nothing less than a fortune would never be enough. 

Your marriage had become public only a few years ago. Due to Hachiro's wishes. Yet that didn't seem to stop many promiscuous women from testing their luck. You bit back the unladylike words bubbling in your throat as they approached him. Fluttering their long lashes and flashing their pearly white teeth.

Models, lawyers, entrepreneurs: the party was bustling with so many. For a moment, you felt like nothing more than a pretty little accessory.

“Mr. Furukawa, how nice of you to make an appearance!” The host's eyes shift to you, thick and clouded with disdain. “It's a joy you brought the misses with you this evening.” The snarkiness of his tone was palpable. It seems the host wasn't exactly a fan of you, but then again, who was? After all, no one bothered to hide their curious gazes when Furukawa was not within earshot. But all you could do was hold your husband's arm just a little tighter.

The women especially.

"Is that Furukawa? Isn't he just dashing!"

"Wah~! He's even taller than I imagined!"

"Do you think he'll drink with me?"

Tightly sewn dresses, embracing the ladies that adorned them. Various warm shades painted lightly across their lips. Bouncy twists and swirls curled into their hair. Bedroom eyes peering over the many men scattered across the room; married or not. It's safe to say you weren't exactly pleased that your husband was one of the few.

You often hid yourself behind layers of lovely fabrics and excellent posture, in hopes of maintaining your modesty. In your eyes, it only seemed right that you matched the appearance and aura of that of your Husband. Though it seems each and every day was a torturous test of your self-restraint.

Nonetheless, you were never one to lose your composure. A straight face was essential in any type of business setting. Sure, you weren't as deadpan as Furukawa, but you could definitely play the "cold wife" role perfectly.

RECENTLY, you've had QUITE THE OBSESSION with FASHION. You have encountered plenty of upcoming entrepreneurs, many of who you've managed to befriend. One of your closest ones is a fashion designer.

She would soon be introducing her new line of work after months of a troublesome hiatus. So, after pulling a little bit if strings, you were able to help her out. By strings, you mean asking Hachiro for some assistance. With his support of the project, people were bound to come and see the clothes. Granted, he was skeptical of your request, it didn't take him long to break and give you what you want.

That evening, the two of you attended an induction ceremony for the company's new clothing line. Hachiro had no reason to attend, but the grin on your face was much too difficult to resist. Just knowing that he made you happy warms his heart immensely. You were the cutest.

But, all good things, of course, come to an end.

“Oh, my! Look who decided to grace us with his presence.” A woman with rosy lips approached the two of you, swaying her hips a bit too much for your liking. “Hachiro, dear, it's been so long since I've seen you!”

Even other women didn't dare to acknowledge you, especially in the company of Hachiro himself. He didn't take kindly to people dismissing your presence. But this girl, definitely had some guts.

“Inoue,” he hums languidly, watching her in masked disdain. “I'd rather you not address me so informally in such a public setting.”

That's right, KAMIKO INOUE, one of the top models that had recently taken Japan by storm. You were expecting her appearance after Hachiro's announced sponsorship, but her rudeness surprised you a bit. Especially her addressing your husband as though they were closer than friends.

You scoff, looking away from the two. Seeing how you'd much rather watch them set up than listen to Inoue's mindless flirting. Hachiro placed his hand on the small of your back, rubbing gentle circles into your skin. But you couldn't dare look into his tender gaze, knowing of the possessiveness bursting within your chest.

She giggled, “How silly of you, Hachiro!” She reached her manicured hand out to grab his free arm just for him to grab her by the wrist.

“Please refrain from touching me so familiarly, Inoue. I'm a married man, and I'd be simply overjoyed if you would respect that.” He gave her a smile that didn't quite reach his steely eyes, before pulling you flush against his chest.

A bright red bloomed across your skin at his affection. Hachiro never showed too much PDA. "You have a photo shoot to attend to, no?" He asks coldly. "Me and my wife will be sure to cheer you on from the sidelines.

That soiled your mood for the evening. Snatching the genuine smile from your lips and replacing it with one faker than the plastic on that whore's skin. For once in your life you were truly feeling vulnerable.

YOU had CONTEMPLATED GOING UNDER the KNIFE more times than YOU CARE to ADMIT. Not for your own pleasure, but the sake of your sanity. You didn't know what you'd do if you saw another beautiful woman talk to your husband.

Even in your youth, he was the center of attention. He had captured the hearts of many girls from various levels of wealth. You would know as you were one of them. But you were in no way richer or as elegant as the others who approached him. So why did he choose you? You asked yourself.

That night you had taken the guest room. It felt cold and quiet. Absent of the usual scratching of pens and occasional shuffling of papers you had grown accustomed to. The pleasant rumble of his chest as he attempts to entertain you whilst working. But you couldn't bring yourself to lay by his side with such heinous thoughts roaming your mind. You were able to fall into a long, dreamless slumber. But not without the company of a few heavy tears and a single question.

Were you selfish?

From that day, you didn't bother answering his calls, whether it be morning or dawn. You didn't bother visiting him during those long hours he slaved away at the company, though many times you truly wanted to. You didn't bother to allow your personal driver to pick you up, and if he tried, you merely snuck out of the house.

Any and everything reminded you of him, and that alone rendered you to tears. While he was away, you didn't allow yourself to be another burden pestering him on his business trip. You couldn't allow it.

AND IT WAS ALL DRIVING HIM CRAZY.

THE FLIGHT HOME was DREADFULLY SILENT. Aside from the tapping of someone's sleek dress shoes. Hachiro had not so much as uttered a word since boarding the plane, nor did he intend on it. For if he did, nothing kind would leave his mouth. Perhaps a, "hurry up," or two — or three. But all of it was for the sake of his sanity.

Hachiro needed his wife, desperately.

You slip through the large double doors, entering your bedroom with wary steps. It was quiet, as expected, and without your presence, it felt almost dead. A week had passed since you last drowned in the warm duvet. A week had passed since you relished in his scent nestled deep within its silk. And oh how you missed the smell of him. Finally, at peace, your shoulders dropped. You took a seat on the edge of your bed. Under your confident front, you were only one person. One person with one mind; though you usually had two. Hachiro and your own. But your pride didn't allow you to confine in the man you loved. What were you scared of? Being shamed, or perhaps laughed at — scolded? Though none of it seemed likely, you could not shake the feeling of embarrassment that held you on a tight leash. CREAK! You jumped, startled by the sudden weight pressed against your back. "Thank God you're safe," your heart swelled at the sound of his voice. The voice of not a stranger, but a lover — a partner. Hachiro grabs you by the chin and lifts your face up. You quickly recoil away in shame, praying he didn't get a peek at your messy face. The need to prove yourself had increased tenfold, you couldn't allow yourself to falter in his presence. “look at me, [Name]," he whispered softy. Hachiro lifts your head once more, swiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks. "You're crying? Tell me what's troubling you. I can help you, [Name]."

And just like that, you broke. Loud, anguished sobs tore through your throat. Your stomach fluttered at the familiar smell of citrus and mint. You couldn't get enough of it. His arms were warm and comforting, and you couldn't deny the safety you felt by his side. His embrace was stronger than anything you've ever known, as if holding him wasn't enough, you held him as though he were your lifeline. It wasn't your intention to tell him, but you just couldn't help it. Each and every thought was placed on the table. The insecurities that you felt bestowed before him. The people you despised and envied slipped past your lips without thinking. All while Hachiro cooed sweet nothings in your ear, promising you his loyalty until his last breath. “God, you're so beautiful,” he whispered, running his thumb through the swollen flesh of your eyes. His usually cold eyes burned with something you couldn't possibly describe. “I can hardly control myself sometimes.” You stared at him dumbfounded — in utter disbelief. His glasses must've been dirty, you thought. Your hair was a literal wreck. And the past couple of weeks had not been too kind to your skin. Small breakouts peppering your cheeks from stress; bags that could carry at least a ton of sorrow nestled beneath your eyes. Surely his vision was just a little blurry. But upon further inspection, you couldn't spot not a spec of dirt on his lenses. Upon your lack of response, he hums, leaning in a bit closer. “I'm serious, dear.” You huff, burying your face into his neck as your skin takes on a feverish shade of red. Damn him for being so attractive. You felt like a high schooler all over again. Smiling softly, you held him closer. “You're the best, Hachi.”

Hachiro sat awake by your side, gently stroking your back with easy motions. His lips had found themselves on your warm skin. And his heart beating vastly at the things you had confessed to him. The possessiveness you had experienced for him. The jealousy and anguish that had consumed you on his behalf.

Of course, he never wanted to see you upset, but seeing how you value him makes him a bit selfish. Just seeing you made him snap a little on the inside. His rational mind fought for control over his need to have you, to prove his love to you. But he decided against it. He would be sure to show you how deeply his love runs on a later occasion. But for now, he settled for cradling you in his arms. Promising to take all those bitter emotions away from you.

“Good morning, Japan!” Shouted the host. “It's come to our attention that Ms. heartthrob Kamiko Inoue has quit the modeling industry after a life-threatening accident!”

“...HUH!?”

©CozyMoko, all rights reserved. Don't repost my work on other platforms.

[adoresmiles]

His. Concealed Obsession.

Chapter three.

Tags: @violetmuses @onlyrealjoy @unicorndelulu @neloOwesker @liatreads @sunrisesfromthewest @deja-r @leahnicole1219 @jacobscipioswoman

AN: Y’all I’m out here making my own gifs and it’s stressing me out lol but I hope you guys enjoy chapter three! Please give feedback on how you feel about the book. Love you guys 🫶🏽

The following day.

"Conseguiste las huellas de las manos del cristal?"

"We are in the process of laminating it now. The tracker was placed underneath her car before she left to meet up with her friend yesterday."

"Perfect, Catalina  did you get the background information on her and her family?"

"Yes , Ms Powers who full name is Kanani Souline Powers. She is the youngest daughter of Noelani Storm and Daniel Ramos Powers. Her mother is a Seasoned 9-1-1 operator , while her father is a captain on the swat team. Kanani is also the sister to Jaxon Tyree and Keith Makana Powers. Jaxon is the lieutenant for the Miami fire department and Keith is a detective."

"Realmente sabes cómo elegirlos"

"Shut it."

"Alongside with her brothers , Kanani was born in Honolulu Hawai'i . She graduated from University of Michigan with a masters degree in Aerospace. Wow ... she's extremely intelligent. Base off of her social media, her hobbies include cooking, dancing , shopping and spending time with her family and friends. She is currently working on opening up her own business."

"Tell me about her past. What's the deal with that?"

Armando asked the young female as she clicked away on her mouse. A mixture of pictures showed across the screen of Kanani,  her family and friends . From what he was being showed , he can see that she was raised in a big , blended and loving family. He learned that her father had a son within his previous marriage . Which made sense to why he was seeing  the slightest bit of difference between the three siblings.

"Well she was in a relationship with the judge son who put your mother away behind bars. He also has a history of domestic violence and multiple of charges. He does have two existing restraining orders against him one is from Kanani and the other his now ex girlfriend."

"When does the restraining order ends?"

"It expires in two days boss."

"Kill him in two days , but let's make it brutal"

"Are you sure about that? He's pretty well known around in Miami."

"I killed the neighbor, I killed the others and I shot my own father. Do you think I care about him being well known ?"

"Clearly not , you are still killing people even when your dad cleared your name. How would you think he will feel if he found out about you doing this to his coworker daughter?"

"Again , do it looks like I care about what him or anyone thinks ? No it doesn't , so as I mentioned before kill him in two days and this time you do it."

"So I have her hand print laminated down, you'll be able to have access to her house once we are able to test it. You just have to figure out when her next outing is going to be."

"That shouldn't be to hard , based off her calendar in her phone she has zero meetings. I checked her emails and nothing is scheduled, she's a sitting a duck. Her meeting that she had with Galena today went right through, isn't that right Gal?"

"She's smarter than what everyone thinks. Her store is going to be extremely valuable for us to use. The only thing is that her best friend will be be helping her run the store. We need our own people in there to make sure the drugs are coming in and out."

"So you and Catalina will find some people who has the similarities of Kanani and her best friend. Send them to the store for interviews and they should get hired on the spot. This is the only we can keep the money flowing in fast and in a discreet manner."

"Catalina and I can most definitely do that. Her best friend is tough to break down though, she doesn't do funny business. So we have to do this carefully and be on our toes with this. But other than that , we're locked in with her business. Plus there's going to be a celebration tomorrow for her accomplishments. I was invited to it the dinner and the after party."

"What after party?"

"Her family will be having a cookout at the park for her and then after she will be going out to celebrate."

"Interes-"

"Boss we got movement coming from inside Kanani home."

Catalina called out to him as she expanded the screen that displayed Kanani on it. Placing his arms over his chest , he watch as the young woman dance around her kitchen without a care in the world. Which either meant that she was cleaning or was simply in a good mood. It was something he picked up on since he started watching her. On certain days she would wake up at exactly nine in the morning to start cleaning or just to put on her favorite song and dance around her house.

At first he thought it was childish but after awhile he found it interesting in way. Watching her smile and laugh as she twirl around in her home always gave him peace. Knowing that she was happy made him happy. Seeing her at peace, made him feel at peace. Armando was dangerously infatuated with her and seeing and holding her in his harms the day prior made him realize that he couldn't allow her to get away.

"Wow I'll hate to admit this but she's definitely a looker. I see why you are obsessed with her man."

"She's off limits man."

"Kanani belongs to me , she's mine and I'll gladly put a bullet through fucking your head behind her."

"He didn't mean it Armando , he was just joking . We all know that Kanani is yours and only yours."

"Galena please get him out of here before ends up dead and on his parents front porch in a gift box."

"Let's go kid , you know your mouth is going to get your ass in trouble..."

"Hey Armando I think you want to check this out."

"What is it Catalina?"

"Did you drop something yesterday? Like an earring a chain or something?"

"Why?"

"Because if I'm mistaken your babygirl is wearing your chain as we speak and it seems like she has a visitor that is fine as fuck."

"ellos son nuestros padres. Her father and family is close friends with Marcus and Mike.”

“Do you think they’re talking about what happened yesterday?”

“No doubt that they are , turn the audio on Catalina.”

Armando leaned forward onto the table as his request was answered. A soft voice filled the room followed by deeper voices. He watched as the two men take turns to hug her. Seeing their hands on her rubbed him the wrong way. Armando didn’t want anyone else but only him touching her . He didn’t care if the man on her screen was her father or not, he didn’t want him touching her. At all.

Translation

"Conseguiste las huellas de las manos del cristal?: Did you get the hand prints from the glass?

"Realmente sabes cómo elegirlos" :  you really know how to choose them.

"ellos son nuestros padres": They are our parents.