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#and that's not your fault but what IS your fault is the absolute refusal to accept or acknowledge poc TELLING you shit is racist
dungeonpuppykai · 2 days
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| Big Brother |
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Description: Fermin does not like to share you with anyone. 
Pairing: Dark Step-Brother!Fermin | Naive Step-Sister!You.
Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction and does not represent Fermin Lopez in any way. It also contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact. 
Warning(s): Dubcon/Noncon, Fermin is mean, dark!Fermin, infantilization, unprotected p-in-v, spanking, degradation, dacryphilia, dumbification, possessive!Fermin, obsessive behaviors, ddlg vibes. 
Note: The Pedri one is gonna be much bigger as it has my favorite trope and Spanish man so it'll have to wait, unfortunately. Until then… 
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Fermin does not like to share you with anyone. He doesn't know when exactly his contempt for his step-father's daughter turned into this but he doesn't care. Nor does he try to rationalize it anymore.
You are his, as he is yours.
It's quite simple, really. You're family and no one can or should come between you. No one will ever be as sincere with you like your family– he is and being the naive little thing you are, you should know that big brother always knows best. 
It doesn't matter even if he's younger than you. 
Fermin says it's all about what's in the head.
And yours is as empty as a wooden doll's.
So you say nothing and simply whimper as your head lowers when he roughly drags you inside the house by your arm before taking you to his room. You want to speak up; tell him about the forgotten kid in the park that you're supposed to be babysitting.
But you know better than to speak when big brother is angry. 
What he says goes. 
And so you're bent over his study table within the next new minutes with your skirt pushed all the way up to your waist while you sob uncontrollably and take your punishment.
“I- I am sorry, big brother– ah!” Your back twists upwards when yet another ruthless rap resounds against your tender skin that is flush with a deep shade of red. “I- I swear! I was only helping Lucia swing– ouch!” A rough hiccup rips out of your throat when your brother refuses to show you any mercy. “Please!” Fermin is not in the mood to listen. 
But he can never be wrong. Because he is big brother. So the fault is definitely yours. How many times has he told you not to speak to other boys? But you are one disobedient little sister! Big brother only wants what is best for you and to protect you because all boys except for him are pigs who only want to take advantage of you! 
“I knew this job was a bad idea” your form stills and your blood runs cold. Slap. But no scream comes out of you this time. Oh no. “You're too little to be out by yourself let alone handle another kid” his voice is low; the deadly calm of his tone causing your knees to tremble. “I fucking knew it–”
“NO! NO BIG BROTHER, PLEASE!” You are absolutely powerless against him so if he pulls the plug on your job, no one will be able to let you keep it. “I swear! That boy came to me first! I swear! I have no idea who he was!”
Fermin grimaces as he clenches his already tense jaw so hard that it ticks. He lands another harsh spank on your quivering ass. Of course. You didn't even notice how that boy has been circling you and Lucia in the park for a few days now, having finally mustered the courage to speak to you only today as you are known as Fermin's sister. 
“I am s- sorry…” You draw your words out as you feel him snatch the tatter of your panties away. “I promise I'll b- be better n- now, big bro-ther, p- please just- OH!” Your eyes squeeze shut as you break into another fit of sobs from the powerful slap that lands on your bare folds now. 
“Tsk, how many times do I have to teach you the difference between punishment time and play time, huh little sis?” A loud squelching noise sounds in the air as he spreads your drenched pussy lips. “Shamelessly making a mess all over big brother's desk during her punishment like a silly little slut, tsk” the blood under your already flush cheeks bubbles as you whimper. 
“S- Sorry, big brother…” Your toes curl as he goes about feeling up your mound. “C- Can't help…” Your teeth pull your bottom lip between them when one of his fingers start to toy with the sensitive band of your entrance. “P- Please… help…” Fermin has taught you to come to him whenever you feel funny between your legs because you have a serious condition that must be kept a secret if you don't want the scary hospital people to take you away from your home and big brother forever. Thankfully, he knows how to fix it so all you have to do is to go to him whenever it happens. Your big brother is the best, really. Because he doesn't help you like meanie doctors with bitter medicine but instead plays with you in an admittingly odd but fun way that is stranger than anything you've ever done but it is also what you can only describe as very nice at the same time. 
“Tsk, are we in a position to make demands?” You wince at the way he scolds you before landing one last powerful smack to your pussy, making you cry aloud as you crash into the desk you are bent over from the force. “Disobeying big brother and putting yourself at risk and then whining about help, I spoil you too much, don't I little sis?” You bite your lip as you hear his fly go undone. 
Oh God. 
He takes you unprepared sometimes when he is angry or unhappy. 
Today is going to be one of those days. 
If only his junior -as he likes to refer to it- wasn't so big, you wouldn't be so scared. 
Because his girth has nearly ripped you many a time. 
“Whining for weeks because all your little friends were getting babysitting jobs and so you wanted to get one too…” Your fingers tightly curl around the edges of the desk as you feel his thick tip press against your entrance, his warm big hands clasping around your sides firmly. “Misbehaving with big brother and throwing all kinds of tantrums…” Well, yeah. You did give him the cold shoulder until he agreed. “Assuring him you would be fine only to do this–” his last words nearly melt into a hiss as he jerks his hips against yours with a powerful thrust and in comes plunging his hard shaft. 
“BIG BROTHER!” A most vile moan escapes you as the upper half of your body goes limp over the smooth surface of the desk. 
“Just imagine if I wasn't out front fixing my bike?” He is beginning to get breathless, huge cock moving between your channel of flesh and out of you slow yet rough. “And if I didn't save you in time?” A spank delivers onto your bruised ass but it is much lighter than all the other ones you have been subject to this evening. “Do you have any idea how badly that could have ended for you?” But his reproaches are no more than background buzz for you now. Your eyelids have gotten droopy and your senses are melting. 
Big brother's dick is inside you and his thick veins angrily pulsate against your bare, sensitive flesh in the best way and that's all that matters.
“Hnnng” your lips feel dry as you bite down on them, your back arching and pussy squelching out a whine when he pulls out nearly all the way. “Big brother– AH!” His hands restrain you from moving along the force of his cock this time around so all of him can be buried deep within your cunt instead of your body slamming into the desk.
“Or maybe… big brother isn't enough for you now, huh? Is that it?” Your eyebrows furrow at his words as your eyes struggle to open because his movement is beginning to get frequent… and not in a nice way. “Is that why you're going around town like a stupid little slut with her silly little pussy in need of fixing?” Your body can't help but rock a little despite his hold on your hips as the stiff skin of his cock grazes against your sensitive flesh faster and faster with each thrust. When you continue to mewl and clench around him instead of answering, Fermin clicks his tongue before he lands a slap on one of your ass cheeks, his fingers coiling around your hair. “Well?!”
“N- No!” Your features twist in discomfort when you feel the band of your entrance forcefully expand around the base of his cock in order to accommodate his balls since your pussy is so wet and your walls so greedy that they want to devour all the dick he has to offer. “B- Big brother w- will always be e-nough for me!” Your neck cranes backwards as you feel him tug at your strands while his bottom half claps against yours loudly. 
“That's fucking right” your mouth falls open when his tip works its way up your cunt and finds the spot where your nerves are sensitive today, the harsh thrust causing your head to spin. “And you better remember that the next time a silly little boy approaches you” neon stars began to appear in your vision as he moves you down and onto the table before his hands roughly move to your thighs, his hips violently snapping against yours all the while. The sound of the other side of the desk colliding with the wall next to it fills your hot ears as you feel Fermin spread your legs as far as they can go, his ballsack sinking into your sore yet much gratified entrance with each thrust now. 
“Tell me you're mine” you feel him bend one of your legs before placing your knee on the table to access you even deeper. “Tell me you're all mine!”
“BIG BROTHER!” You are panting desperately like a bitch in heat, your tight insides on the verge of your first of many orgasms of the day. “I– AH! I AM– OH!” His fingers slip between your cunt and the smooth wooden top of the desk. 
Fermin's back drapes over your back as you feel his lips hover over your ear, his coarse digits gliding across your slippery folds. “Say it and big brother will give you the cummies” he kisses the tear stains on your flushed face. “You like the cummies right?” He speaks to you like one does a child while obliterating you like you are his very own personal whore (you are). You vehemently nod, grunting and whining as you focus on holding yourself back because cumming without big brother's permission is prohibited and you are in enough trouble already. 
“I AM Y- YOURS, BIG BROTHER! A- ALL YOURS! O- ONLY YOURS!” You scream out in agony, feeling yourself overcrowded, overstuffed and overstimulated all at once. “P- PLEA–” 
Fermin loves your sobs of pure wanton. “Cum for big brother” as if a switch goes off, your orgasm barrages through you like a dam coming undone. Temporary vertigo fills your ears as your pussy tightly clenches around his hard shaft that is still pounding your seeping cunt just as hard. Your vision falters and your body gives up as the upper half of your body that you were barely keeping upright drops against the table with a soft thump. 
Your body spasms as your toes curl from the overstimulation but you know better than to complain. Big brother does so much for your protection and pleasure, it is only fair that you returned the favor by being nice to him back. Yes, he is difficult to satiate and one cummie is never enough for him. 
But taking care of each other is what family is all about.
… Right? 
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I appreciate feedback >.< Also I can't believe I neglected exam prep for this lmfaooo <3 
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bethanydelleman · 2 days
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Something about this whole Lydia thing confuses me a little .
Why did Darcy act alone ? Why didn't he inform Mr Gardiner of his involvement since the start not after the situation is settled ?
When he asked Lydia to leave Wickham, why did he expect her family to receive her when the whole town knew ?
I kept reading posts about how noble Darcy is for asking her to leave him. But honestly just because he does not care about reputation does not nobody else does. Heck, the whole family would suffer from social isolation, he is basically ruining what's left of the girls's chances of marrying well. He is not destroying just his own chances of marrying Lizzie, but with almost any gentleman she would ever come across. What was he thinking ?
At least, while married to Wickham, she has her reputation restored and she can go to balls and parties, if she leaves him she would be banished somewhere far away and for the extroverted loud Lydia, this is HELL.
And if he wanted simply to recover her, shouldn't he bring a relative alone so they would help convince her, surely that would help.
Honestly, the only sensible thing Lydia had done is refusing to leave him.
Darcy acted alone because he didn't trust Mr. Bennet to be a responsible adult so he waited until Mr. Bennet had returned home before approaching Mr. Gardiner:
But Mr. Gardiner could not be seen; and Mr. Darcy found, on further inquiry, that your father was still with him, but would quit town the next morning. He did not judge your father to be a person whom he could so properly consult as your uncle, and therefore readily postponed seeing him till after the departure of the former.
which, good judgment there, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bennet sucks.
As for the other thing, Darcy doesn't know what is going on in Meryton, he doesn't know that Mrs. Bennet is stupid enough to scream their bad news all over town. This whole affair could have been hushed up if Mrs. Bennet had half a brain cell. Lydia has family in London, they could have easily pretended that Lydia went to visit them.
Either way, I think in Darcy's mind, being married to Wickham is the absolute worst outcome for any woman. He hates Wickham and he knows all of Wickham's faults. To him, a sixteen year old being stuck with that sad excuse for a human being, forever, is worse than death or a cottage. Lydia didn't agree, but I don't think she's smart for that decision, she's short-sighted. And I'm pretty sure at this point that Darcy would marry Elizabeth either way, he'd probably prefer to not have Wickham as a permanent brother in law.
As for Lydia and the family's reputation, there must have been options or else Darcy wouldn't have given leaving as a choice to Lydia. He is very rich and very well regarded and everyone in Meryton now knows that Wickham is awful. So Darcy says she was kidnapped and is completely innocent and he saved her. Fortunately for the Bennet family, they never go to London, so this gossip will not spread far either way. No one knows who they are. Darcy marrying Elizabeth will give the Bennets the same reputation boost that it did in the original timeline. Lydia may need to lay low for a while, but having two very rich brother in laws can only help her marriage prospects down the line.
As for bringing a relative, I assume Darcy would have done that too if he thought it would help. As we know, it wouldn't have.
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thatbitchery · 8 hours
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As a woman I've been accused of being 'masc' for plenty things, my absolute favorite has been the fact that i refuse to play therapist or trauma dump to literally anyone,including my friends or family.
Ladies, they are right. Women are more predisposed to emotion than men are. I'm afraid they are right. This is an evolutionary biological truth that XX does make you emotionally based.
This is not a weakness. In fact in plenty ways this is an advantage. Presence of emotion is not lack of logic, the two are not opposing forces.
This could very well be your greatest weakness, if you let it.
Almost every single form of abuse is enhanced by emotion. The people that hurt you did so because you had emotion invested. Every single piece of pain you've felt has been because you had your feelings caught up. This is why Shera7 says if you start liking him, run. When feelings walk in success jump out of the window. Why ? Emotion is a lizard brain thing, it leaves you completely pre disposed to instinct, and instinct isn't about what's good for you it's about what's good for survival. We say turn your feelings off because your feelings are concerned with the most basic of survival instincts, not progress.
That being said,let's get back to where this post was headed to pre rant- you're not a therapist. Don't act like one. Your feminine urge to fix and nurture is meant for your children, my love. Children. It's a caregiver package kind of deal. Is it your child? Well- a child? No? Mind your business. Everyone below the age of 15 yes can tap into that therapist that's you but the rest? Especially men? No.
Heres the thing- sex is the least burdening thing m3n use women for. In fact in most cases you could get used by someone without them ever touching your skin, and you feel it. You feel when you're getting used. Whether it is for your softness or intellect or free labor or nurturing side or- you can feel it. You can feel it when someone is draining from your feminine pool, and one great advantage of being female is your instincts are 5× more enhanced than your brother.
Stop letting people use you as a live in therapist to trauma dump or leave in cheerleader to gloat, and the 'people' is inclusive of women but mostly men.
The second the childhood trauma makes a cameo into the conversation they have ten seconds to wrap it up before you clock out.
Relationships are not based on the past they are based on the present. When we say be vulnerable- we are talking about your needs. Your desire. Your emotions- in the present. What does your childhood have to do with us right now my dude? & Hollywood has made it seem like trauma dumping is the ultimate form of trust- I've never told anyone about this so you're special because I told you it means I trust you- ew no get a therapist? If I'm special buy me a jet or stocks- invest in my wellbeing. How is knowing your past a special thing? Every offense possible meant- but what does your dad gotta do with trusting me? If you trust me lets be partners in a business? Hollywood has made it seem like it's a milestone in a relationship to know all the trauma tea- and maybe it is, but it means nothing. It's simply information.
In fact I've learned over time the trauma dump is an investment to future fuck ups as an excuse and a bail-me-out method. Babe you know my dad used to be shitty so excuse me for not knowing how to communicate and hurting our relationship you should let this go because three months ago I made an investment into my bail account for all my future fuck ups by opening up to you. Uhm. No bye. You don't deal with your issues so I have to? Door. Down the hall to the left. Lock it and forget my pass key, I suggest finding one to a therapist. I'm not paying in my adulthood for your childhood, Chad. Your past can not hurt my present, Chad, get a therapist. Chad. It wasn't your fault but it's also not mine, Chad, so I'm not taking responsibility for or the burnt of it, Chad. Matter of fact I'll take advantage of you over it, Chad, like you're trying to take advantage of me through it. Chaddie buddie.
On the same note, do not be anyone's cheerleader or gloat pot. Another thing m3n could use you for- especially if you're easy to please- ego enhancer. No don't get me wrong by all means do cheer your people in their achievements, but- achievements. Not thoughts or philosophies or worse- ambition. Achievements are tangible. I ran a marathon today- Yay. I'm planning to run a marathon- ok good luck. I bought stocks- Ok. I have a billion dollar idea- mhm. I made a billion dollars- great. I think children suffering is bad- OK. I donated to a child support cause- Yay. When I was ten I was boxing champion. Kk. I made it into the boxing championship- yay. Learn to cheer results that you find worthy of cheering- not something as bland and useless as ambition or an idea or- God forbid- philosophy or belief system. I know they trained you well in the bare-minimum-simpy camp but not to worry. I'll pluck it all out.
If you do not have the kind of relationship that allows them to be that open with you, let them know. Either mentally clock out, ie
"So actually my dad was really abusive. He-"
You: stare out the window. Echo a mhm. Take interest in the floor. Echo a 'ok'. Look at your phone.
Or, b) let them know
"When I was a kid I-"
"I don't think we have the kind of relationship where you should tell me that, let's stick within our boundaries. I think I need more lemonade. By the way, Alex told me-"
Or c) okay, and?
"You know I think what they're doing in Palestine is wrong because-"
"How much have you donated so far? "
"Well nothing, but"
"I think a donation will do more good than a philosophical discussion, we all know it's wrong. I emailed you the files. See you later"
See the thing, my love, is you're not stupid. You can tell. You can tell when you're being used you can tell when you're being exploited and when you force yourself to look past it in an attempt to 'score a relationship' or 'keep the peace' you make an investment in future abuse and you will hate yourself for it. Tell me I'm lying. Tell me you don't look into your past self with disgust. Tell me trauma dumping and gloat potting have not played a part in you getting used. Go on.
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mewtwo24 · 9 days
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You know idk if it's just me being oblivious af but mxtx sure does enjoy putting her protags through the trolley problem when it comes to her works huh /j
#mdzs#mxtx#i say this not to be critical but because she really does prove how time and again#people want a scapegoat and an easy target to blame#and so much of her work is abt proving how faulty these philosophical absolutes are--nothing is that simple.#literally the arguments made to put everything on wwx (at least for now) appear to be faulty at best#i mean sure sometimes he puts his foot in his mouth but like ;;;;;;;; the kid is just doing his best wtf#everyone out here like WWX IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU except for lwj and i'm just like#1. hes literally like 16 yrs old or smth#2. whether or not he stepped in during the cave scene was kind of a non-question??????#the wens were so clearly going to engage in egregeious violence regardless of the rationalizations that came after#pointing fingers is legitimately pointless and fallacious logic#if mianmian wasnt targeted theres really no guarantee smth similar wouldnt have happened#furthermore working tg and refusing to play by wens' rules was p much the only feasible option#lwj was young and afraid and had lost so much but he still had enough clarity to insist on working tg#i also really love what he said abt suffering bc its just true.#the way he claps back to his uncle by saying that nobody would be spared violence and atrocity#the only choice they had was to try to band tg and mitigate the dmg--basically 'war is hell'#i find it such a stark and lovely contrast to the common perception of others abt him#that lwj stands alone and thinks of no one else; quite the contrary#he's v self-contained and v disciplined but he's not indifferent to suffering or apathetic#i think so much of the natural love that blooms between wwx and lwj is rooted in their mutual desire to do good#wwx wants to help--he loves to see people smile. he would do anything to protect the ppl he loves#lwj is honestly the same--he's just more abt structure and stability#wwx is more spontaneous and more attuned to the people around him#im a little shocked that people werent able to tell lwj was just as obsessed with him#just bc wwx is loud and mischievous about his interest doesnt really???? to me mask the ways lwj is so responsive. also i ????????#still don't understand the mental gymnastics of madame jiang insisting it was all wwx's fault when she literally targeted wen's mistress ->#in retaliation???????????????? all this 'pick your battles what the fuck is wrong with you wwx' and she goes and instigates their wrath??#i mean idk fellas i was just sitting there like 'you could have handled this so many ways and you picked the TNT option. wat.'
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maaaahri · 5 months
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Oh no I’m thinking about VtM npcs again
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bbqhooligan · 2 months
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im an arrogant piece of shit and also a dyke but honest to god question: what good could fucking come from being friends with a guy who has feels for you that you dont want. girl abort that thang
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yatiso · 1 year
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i think the problem with switching from being a preschool teacher to working retail/being a receptionist is that kids often time are easier to handle and help than grown ass adults
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theghostofashton · 2 years
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augustinewrites · 5 months
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“do you not love me anymore?”
satoru’s (self-proclaimed) adorable pout is rendered ineffective when you refuse to look up from your work, typing away on your computer as his world absolutely crumbles.
“are you a worm?” you ask, wholly uninterested in his theatrics.
“no.”
“then of course i still love you.”
“then what the heck is this?!”
sighing, you finally lift your gaze to see your wallet open and laid out in front of you. “that’s what this is about?”
“you took my favourite picture of us out for megumi’s school photo!”
“that was not your favourite picture of us,” you argue. “you keep that in a locked folder on your phone.” 
(it’s your fault that he thinks of that photo now, having to utilise mental skills he’d learned during unnecessarily sexy sparring lessons in high school to will away the beginning of stiffness in his pants) 
“that’s not the point,” he says calmly, tapping a finger over megumi’s glaring face. “the point is that i’m losing top-billing in my girlfriend’s wallet to a snot-nosed brat with a crush.” 
“really? you’re competing with a seven year old?” 
“it’s not competing if i’m losing!”
“it’s puppy love, satoru,” you laugh, closing your wallet before he can see that his card is inside. “i don’t think he’s ever had someone - that wasn’t his sister - fussing over him.”
“no, he definitely has a crush on you,” your boyfriend insist, draping himself over your lap quite dramatically. “can we still disown him if the adoption papers haven’t gone through yet?”
“no one is disowning anyone,” you tell him, gently pushing back his bangs to plant a kiss on his forehead. “you’ll just have to learn to live with the competition.”
_____
you’re halfway through the show you’re watching when the front door swings open and satoru tumbles inside. “honey, i’m home! nanami almost killed me at the gym.”
“hey, there’s lunch in the fridge,” you call, eyes glued to the television. 
satoru, predictably, is unsatisfied with this. he grabs the mug that you’re holding and sets it on the coffee table, wrapping you in a sweaty hug and peppering your face with kisses. 
“let me love you!” he whines, his hair tickling your nose as he nuzzle his face into your neck.
“you can love me after you take a shower, cause you stink.” your tone is stern, but you can’t seem to fight the smile that grows on your face as he hugs you tighter. 
“this is all for your benefit,” he argues, finally releasing you just to pull the hem of his shirt up. you try to smother the heat rising to your face, but satoru notices, a self satisfied smirk on his lips as he pats his abs. “i’m letting nanami kill me at the gym for you.”
“you’re such a slut,” you mutter, wriggling out of his grasp and over to the opposite end of the couch. satoru relents, staying on his end as he recounts his (apparently) near-death experience at the gym.
it’s a few moments later when megumi saunters into the living room.
“megumi! come sit with me!”
the boy’s nose immediately wrinkles. “you stink.”
his full-force pout returns. “i do not!”
“do too.”
“do not—”
“do too,” megumi scoffs, plopping down next to you and resting his head against your arm. 
“so you’re gonna let him snuggle with you but not me? i’m tired and sore and—”
“and sweaty,” you finish. “go take a shower.” 
he glances down at the kid glued to your side, brows raised as he mouths, crush. 
you roll your eyes, thinking it wise to not engage in any banter in front of megumi. 
(but as your attention returns to the tv, what you don’t see is megumi’s own little smirk, directed right at satoru.
like father, like son.)
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yuwuta · 5 months
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VITAMIN ME — JUJUTSU KAISEN BOYS + SICK FIC
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featuring. gojo, toji, inumaki, nanami, okkotsu, itadori, choso, fushiguro
content. taking care of the boys/the boys taking care of you when feeling sick, all fluff, no warnings 
word count. 2.5k 
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SATORU GOJO
He doesn’t feel under the weather often, but when he does, it hits him tenfold. He’s whiny, dramatic, borderline inconsolable, and feels well within his rights to demand your undivided attention, because he’s not usually like this… sick, that is (he is usually whiny and dramatic, no illness in the world could take that away from him).
You and him both know when he’s dragging it, but you can’t help but to feel bad for him. Because when Satoru is sick, he’s sick—you feel like you need to constantly monitor all his vitals, set a timer to make sure he gets medication because he’s so cold and pale and sluggish, it’s worrisome. Of course, he finds the strength to tease you, “You worried about little old me, sweets? Don’t be—‘m gonna be fine, you know. But I hear kisses cure the flu.”
“Not scientifically proven, or peer reviewed,” you tell him, “But you know what is? Tylenol. Time for more, open up, Satoru.” 
“Will I get a kiss? Just a little one?” 
He gives you a hard time, even in sickness, but it’s only because he absolutely relishes being in your care, thinks you’re good at taking care of him; proven by the way you give in with a nod, and then a kiss after he takes his medication. He really does feel like shit right now, but with you here, caring for him, his heart has expanded ten times and a warmth spills into his chest that makes the pain insignificant. Satoru feels honored and humbled to have someone fuss over him like this—to have this concrete reminder that you worry for him and care about him and love him just like he loves you.
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TOJI FUSHIGURO 
“You gonna feed me?” Toji grumbles, sounding much less threatening with a frog in his throat, “Because there’s no way I’m drinking that.” 
You roll your eyes, lightly tapping the spoon against the edge of the mug before placing it onto the coffee table and extending your arms towards Toji, “The ginger is good for you. The lemon, too, if you wanna stop sounding like a low-budget villain anytime soon.” 
Toji’s nose scrunches—it’s almost cute, if it weren’t followed by an infuriatingly stubborn turn of his jaw, pointedly away from you and back to the television. You huff, sitting down next to him—or as close as you can get through his mountain of blankets and forcefield of pillows—carefully nursing the cup in your palms. 
Who would have thought that the great Toji Fushiguro would be so stubborn as to let a little cold get the best of him. Him attempting to suffer without cold medicine wasn’t that surprising, but you didn’t think that he’d petulantly refuse tea just because of some ginger. Getting him to take his antibiotics only worked when you told him you’d boot him onto the couch if he didn’t, but that won’t work this time, he’ll call your bluff. 
You sigh, moving a pillow to your other side and reaching over to the coffee table to redeem your spoon. You fold one leg under the other and turn your body to Toji’s, scooping tea into the spoon, giving it a soft blow, and then raising it to his face. He quirks an eyebrow when he feels the steam brushing against his skin, and turns to you with a hellish grin.
He opens his mouth, to say something slick no doubt, but you take advantage of the opportunity to shove the spoon in his mouth, “You don’t get to talk until after you finish your tea.”
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TOGE INUMAKI
Despite being a renowned insomniac and someone who is willing to throw away hours of sleep to binge watch his favorite series or complete a new game, Toge does believe that rest is the best medicine. He does take his own sleep seriously—it’s not his fault that most people consider his preferred sleeping hours to be regular waking hours.
So, even though it sounds a bit hypocritical, Toge is very firm about you resting as much as you can when you’re not feeling well. He’s quick to make a cocoon out of you in your two favorite blankets and fit you onto the couch to keep you within sight as he rummages around the kitchen to prepare your meals, and make sure that you don’t skimp out on your medication. He’s got some pretty effective homemade remedies for a killer sore throat, but cough syrup is cough syrup—he knows it tastes horrible, but if he has to force feed it to you, then so be it.
He feeds you spoonfuls of homemade broth and rice to make up for it, giggling as you scrunch your nose from the taste of the medicine. When you’re finished, he lets you tell him off and forgoes teasing you about how nasally you sound as he coerces you to lay down again. You don’t feel sleepy, but when Toge’s lips brush against your forehead, his words are like a spell that makes your eyes flutter shut, “Sleep, my love.”
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KENTO NANAMI
“It’s cold, Ken,” you whine, sniffling at the end of your sentence. Kento sighs softly, switching off the light to the bathroom and taking careful strides to the bed. He carefully sits on the edge of the bed, expression sympathetic as you complain about the temperature again.
The room is actually slightly warmer than normal per your earlier request, but he knows you still feel cold because of how high your temperature is. It's exactly why he took your blanket from you—fuzzy, and warm, and weighted would all be enticing and acceptable if you weren’t running a very concerning fever. Kento absolutely hates to say no to you, but he has to do something to break your fever. 
“I know, darling,” he nods gently, settling himself onto his side of the bed. He’d prefer to have the comfort of a heavy blanket right now, too, but he wouldn’t taunt you like that—if you have to sleep without one, then so will he. He should get you another cold towel for your forehead, but you tug on his heartstrings when you scoot yourself closer to him, nose nudging against his thigh. He smiles softly, carefully reaching to tap at your arms, “Come here.”
You shuffle upwards and into his arms, cheek pressed against his chest with your arms coming to wrap around his torso. Kento lets you melt into him and wraps strong arms around your body to keep you close—body heat will have to do for now.
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YUUTA OKKOTSU
Yuuta walks—waddles, really—with his blanket over his shoulders, mouth slightly ajar, and a box of tissue in his hand for good measure. He looks cute despite his febrile state, with his nose red and eyes wide and you have to resist the urge to coo at him.
“I thought the Benadryl would have kept you asleep at least a little longer,” you smile, turning off the heat underneath the pot.
“Something smelled good... and I got hungry,” Yuuta shrugs weakly, taking the remaining steps into the kitchen and plopping his body weight onto a stool at the island. He sniffles deeply, setting his box of tissues down on the counter, before pointing at the lowly simmering pot behind you, “Is that… for me?”
“No, it’s for my other sick boyfriend,” you grin, reaching into a nearby cabinet for a bowl. You giggle when you see Yuuta’s pouty expression, cheeks a light pink and bottom lip jutted slightly.
“It’s not nice to make fun of the ill,” he coughs. His façade is waning, already weakened by his sick state, and crumbling when you push a warm bowl of his favorite soup in front of him. You can’t help but to laugh a little louder because Yuuta’s eyes practically grow three sizes and you swear he’s salivating a little. 
He shakes away the shock, turning with a pout when he realizes you’re poking fun at him again, “You’re doing it again. Now you owe me a kiss.” 
“Do I?” you tease, taking the seat on the stool next to him, elbows resting on the counter, as you peer up at Yuuta’s flushed face. You’ll let him ride the excuse his blush being the fever for a little longer, “That’s risky. I might get sick, and I have a very cute boyfriend to take care of.”
“I’ll take care of you, too,” Yuuta all but whispers, tired eyes fluttering to your lips, “In sickness and in health, right?”
He leans down a bit and you meet him for a quick kiss, pulling away to smile, “I thought that was for married couples.” 
“I’ll fix that soon,” Yuuta smiles, satisfied. You giggle, reaching out to poke his red nose and then his cheek to turn his face back to his soup. 
“Well, then go ahead and eat and get well soon,” you muse, leaning forward to kiss his cheek, “I expect a very romantic proposal from an un-sick lover boy.”
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YUUJI ITADORI
You should have known that Nobara was going to rat you out sooner or later, if not for your own wellbeing, then for hers—because despite your roommate being a caring soul beneath her tough exterior, she is not caring enough to risk her own health because you’re sniffling all over your shared apartment; especially not before she’s supposed to go on her first vacation with her boyfriend.
On the third day of coughing, Nobara tells you she’s going to camp out with Megumi until her flight, and that Yuuji is the person she’s entrusted with her keys until she returns back from her trip. So, it’s not a surprise that a mere hour later, you find Yuuji all but barreling through your front door with grocery bags in hand, all of which he promptly drops when he hears you hacking out your lungs on the couch, quick to dart to your side and hold your cup as you shakily drink some water.
“Babe! You’re, like, super sick,” he exclaims, now sitting criss-cross on your living room floor, slowly unpacking the grocery bags for a real-time haul, “You should have told me earlier, I could have gotten you all this stuff way sooner!”
“I’m fine, Yuuji. It’s a mild cold at most,” you reassure him, smiling to yourself as he rips open a new box of Kleenex and thrusts it in your direction. He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, untrusting of your words, before he springs up with the last grocery bag in hand.
“Well, still... I’m not a doctor, but I got all the medications Nanamin told me to get, so we’re gonna get this cold out of you in no time,” he grins, patting your head before leaning down to kiss your forehead, “In the meantime, how about some soup? Oh—I just saw a recipe for something spicy, that should help with your nose right? Or maybe ramen? Leave it to me!”
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CHOSO KAMO
You couldn’t help but to snap one more picture of Choso. You felt bad, a little bit, he was tired and sick and probably felt like crap, but he looked very cute when he was sleepy, cuddled up in fuzzy blankets from head to toe, with just enough space to expose his tired eyes and red nose. One more wouldn’t hurt. 
You smile to yourself as you look back at him, slipping your phone into your pocket and walking over to join Choso on the couch. There’s not enough room for you to sit in the seat, so you have to cotch yourself in the arm of the couch closest to his head and gently reach out to move a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. It would make for another cute picture, but you refrain, choosing to lean down and press a kiss to his forehead instead, before standing to start picking up the spare tissue and cough drop wrappers littered around him.
You always tell him he’s going to worry himself sick, and he’s managed to do just that. It was a little fun, a little cute, but mostly, you’re just happy that Choso is resting. You know that sleep doesn’t come easily to him under normal circumstances; if being a little under the weather is what gets your boyfriend to slow down and care for his body, then so be it; you’ll be there to help him out.
You’re about to head into the kitchen, when you’re stopped by a warm hand brushing against your leg. You turn to see Choso limply reaching out of your, slowly blinking awake, before weakly beckoning for you again, “Stay here,” he croaks, “Please?”
You smile, placing the gathered trash onto the coffee table, before burying yourself within Choso’s blankets. You have to do a little wiggling to get underneath him, but Choso doesn’t mind, happily resting his weight against you, eyes already fluttering closed again, not before he lets you a meek, “Thank you. I love you.”
You give him one final kiss to the crown of his head, “I love you, too.” 
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MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
“Megumi, are you… okay?” you question softly, leaning over the small restaurant table to squint at your boyfriend. You’d been watching him carefully since he’d picked you up from your house, deducing that something was definitely wrong, even if Megumi had been trying his best to hide it.
He could be quiet, but he was definitely not soft spoken, nor did he normally wince after swallowing a bite of his food. You should have known something was off from the start, when you’d held hands on your walk and Megumi’s fingers were warm, and not icicles attached to his palm.
Megumi freezes, mouth gaping slightly, before he closes it and composes himself with slumped shoulders—he’d considered keeping up his brave front, but it’d be futile at this point, so he sighs, “My throat hurts, is all,” he confesses, the hoarseness of his tired voice peeking through, “I had a fever yesterday, but it was fine this morning.”
You lean over a little more, just enough to be able to extend your hand so that the back of your palm meets Megumi’s forehead. It’s warm, to no surprise, and you find yourself tutting, recoiling your hand slightly, with enough space to flick him.
“Ow?” He groans, and you only roll your eyes. You pull back to fish through your bag, to pull out some cash and leave it on the table. Megumi begins to question you, but you’re not hearing it, getting up to sling your purse over your shoulder and grab your boyfriend by the forearm.
“You’re an idiot,” you scold, ushering him out of the restaurant, “We are going to urgent care to get you a strep test, and then to that bakery Nanami tells us not to tell anyone about to get you soup, and then you are going to sit and eat it and contemplate your actions for the rest of the evening.”
Megumi lets himself be dragged away—another tell-tale sign that he really is feeling under the weather (which is also what he chooses to blame his blush on). If “contemplating his actions,” was code word for you hovering over him for a bit, then maybe he wouldn’t mind.
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pastelchad · 1 year
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Work hasn't made me this mad in a long time I'm literally sweating I'm so fucking angry
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gothammemoirs · 1 year
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rukunas · 8 months
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The classroom feels awfully small.
Gojo Satoru stands far away from you, leaning against the opposing wall stiffly with hands in his pockets. His blindfold is down, a rare frown twisting his lips downwards. His hair is a mess, a clear indication of the utter frustration he’s in. Despite the distance, the tension between the two of you is palpable, suffocating.
He’s absolutely livid.
Deservedly so. You should have listened to him and stayed out of his fight but you didn’t. Now you have to simply stand there like a goddamn Special Grade Sorcerer and take whatever he’s about to throw at you.
Who knew a fight with a low level, shape-shifting curse would cause all of this.
You swallow the knot in your throat, preparing for a half-hearted apology. “I’m so—”
“You—” He straightens himself, finger pointed out in accusation, “—had one job. I asked you to stay out of my way— no, I ordered you to stay out of my way. And what the hell do you do? The absolute fucking opposite. Do you ever think before you act?”
Gojo’s eyes narrow deeper, the sharpness of the glare hitting you right in the chest and making you flinch. Ouch. “What makes you think you can make the rules? Have you forgotten that I outrank you? I—”
“Do not pull rank with me.” You snap. So much for just standing there and taking it. “You know damn well I am just as strong as you are.”
“Special Grace Sorcerer doesn’t mean that you’re the strongest.”
“Oh, you mean like Suguru?” Low blow, but the ripple of emotion against Gojo’s face is satisfying. It’s the same slack look he had twenty minutes earlier, when the curse morphed into the figure of his best friend.
“Don’t say his name. You don’t get to say his name.”
You can’t help the bitter laugh that bursts out of your lips. “You weren’t the only one friends with him, Satoru. And you froze. So, yeah, I’m fucking sorry for fighting your battle for you.”
“You were reckless and out of line.” His voice stays level, refusal of letting his anger get the best of him. The throbbing vein in his forehead says otherwise. “I have to pull rank if you choose to act like one of my students.”
Rage makes the vessels of your face pop. You try opening your mouth but nothing comes out, your face is too hot, too hurt.
Satoru keeps going. “I fight alone. This was my battle, and you are too stubborn to understand that. So why don’t you focus on your own missions so I can do mine?”
“Fine.” You shake your head before turning to leave. “Fight alone, stand alone, be fucking alone. My fault for thinking that you might not like to be by yourself all the time.”
You walk out the room, the thump of your own heart loud in your ears, leaving Satoru alone with his own shadow.
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lace-coffin · 6 months
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Hi! Can I ask how the slashers would feel if they ever accidentally hurt their s/o? Gender and everything is up to you!
How slashers would react to Accidently hurting their S/O
Thank you so much for my first ever request ah! I hope you enjoy 💖
Requests are open!
Warning for blood/injury - mild sexual content/reference to sexual activity and power dynamics -unhealthy relationships (I think?)
Reader is gender neutral!
Bubba sawyer
Most likely happened via Bubba playing too hard and Accidently pushing you over or being a bit too heavy handed with you. If it’s a case of them mistaking you for a victim and catching you with their chainsaw before being able to stop then they’ll be even more in inconsolable : (
Stops and stares for a minute to process what’s happened before devolving into full blown panic.
She’ll drop whatever she’s doing to carry you back to the house, even if that means letting the victim escape and having Drayton yell at her.
Will hurriedly explain in rushed sign to either Choptop or Nubbins to go take care of the victim as he’s busy caring for you.
Checks you over frantically. Please explain you’re going to be ok and help them calm down.
Once he knows you’re not in any danger he’ll feel absolutely awful about it and whine apologies to you even if you tell him that it’s ok and it wasn’t their fault.
Please comfort them once you feel better and reassure them.
Will insist you come up with a verbal and nonverbal sign to give if they’re accidently messing around to hard.
Will make you agree to stay in the house out of the way when victims are around so you don’t Accidently get hurt again.
Thomas Hewitt
After another night of Hoyt berating him for things out of his control, Tommy storms off to the basement to cool off. You follow after him, intending to comfort and wanting to help. You place a hand on his shoulder without thinking, forgetting he doesn’t enjoy physical touch without warning, thinking it might help. Whipping around he grabs your wrist a little too hard, causing you to wince.
He snatches his hand back as soon as he realises what he’s done.
Tommy will bring you to Luda may to have her check you over and assess the damage.
Once he knows you’re safe he’ll confine himself to the basement for a few days, only coming out to eat but even then it’s tense.
He’s truly sorry and feels like all those people who called him a monster and an animal were right, he hurt the one he cares about most, after all.
After a few days apart, a lot of hushed words of affirmation and kisses/nose bumps he’ll feel comfortable being with you again.
You know to let him cool off by himself and come to you when he’s ready after a heated argument now.
Michale Myers
You jump out at Michael thinking it would be funny to catch the shape off guard for once and not the other way around. Unfortunately this backfires and he swings his knife at you, thinking it may be an intruder since you’ve never pulled something like this before, You manage to jolt out of the way but the knife still catches you in the shoulder. Thankfully, it’s only superficial and will heal, but it still looks like it needs medical attention.
Initially Michael looks at you unamused, granted it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling underneath the mask. He gives you a kind of “well If you weren’t being dumb this wouldn’t have happened” attitude. However this is a front for the actual panic he refuses to show on the surface.
Having a few cuts and scratches isn’t super uncommon when your with Michael considering his tastes involving knives in bed ; )
Usually hurting others comes naturally and without remorse to Michael, so it shakes him to his core that he’s actively worrying about your wellbeing instead of feeling the usual indifference.
It disturbs him that he actually cares about someone enough to feel remorse for his actions.
After unceremoniously pulling your shirt off and looking the wound over he forces you go to A&E, practically marching your ass out the door.
Since he’s basically an escaped criminal he can’t exactly casually walk in the hospital with you, however he will stalk you the entire time, lurking close by to make sure you arrive and leave safely.
Although he usually has his guard up he vows to try be a little less bristly with you from now on if it means he doesn’t have to see you hurt and feel that awful tug of regret/worry in his chest.
Jason voorhees
You went out looking for Jason one night after he hadn’t returned to the cabin by his usual time. You were worried he’d been overpowered by a group of trespassers or caught in a trap and didn’t have any way to communicate that to you. The woods were beautiful but so dense and vast, getting lost or injured in the thick of them may as well be a death sentence.
Whilst searching for your missing partner you get your leg snagged in a bear trap he had set out previously for the trespassers. You howl in pain as you hear the sickening snap of your ankle between the traps jaws.
Jason was trudging his way back to the cabin when he heard it. Knowing that wasn’t a rougue teen as he’d cleared them out already, alarm bells went off in his head. He stormed to scene as fast as he could.
He could have sworn his undead heart stopped for the second time as he saw you sitting there in agony, murky blood seeping into the forest floor.
He rushes to your side and looks frantically between the trap and your teary face, he knows he’s going to have to disengage the traps and for you it’s going to be..less than pleasent.
He signs for you to grip onto his arm for support. Since he’s already dead and regenerates fairly quickly he feels it’s the least he can do to let you grip his arm for dear life as he wrenches the trap from your shattered ankle. If you cause any damage to his arm (which is very unlikely) it will heal up in no time anyway.
Once he’s carried you back to the cabin he’ll be frantically following Pamela’s directions in his head for what to do and how to clean/ wrap it.
If the damage is extensive he’ll relent and let you go to the hospital, only if a trusted friend takes you though, he’ll be sitting by the window of your shared cabin every minute until you return back to him.
You’re no longer aloud to be out in the woods after dark alone if he’s set traps. You both carry whistles now so if he’s not home and you need to know he’s safe you can whistle to each other and feel more at ease.
Billy Lenz
Interacting with Billy when he’s having an episode is never a good idea. You thought it would be fine to just be in the room though, providing you stay out of his way. As you enter, Billy is in the midst of trashing his attic once again, the disgusting feelings bubbling in his chest too much to bear. You enter just as he’s angrily thrown an old glass christmas ornament at the floor that the sorority had kept in storage. It shatters and flecks of sparkling glass scatter along the floor. One piece catching you in the hand in a nasty glass splinter. You swear under your breath and rush off to take care of it.
Billy doesn’t even realise what’s happened until you return to him, him now having exhausted himself and you knowing it’s safe to try do some damage control. You bring him a sandwich and juice knowing he’ll need it after all the energy and tears he just used up.
Your hands touch as he’s accepting the plate from you with a muted “thank you” and he notices the bandage.
Billy essentially bristles up like an angry cat at the idea of someone hurting his piggy and demands to know who did it and what happened.
Once you tell him it was actually from the ornament he feels horrible. He doesn’t even remember it happening with the state he was in.
He snuggles into the crook of your neck and mumbles apologies into your skin.
Billy will place sloppy kisses over it as an apology until you forgive him. (Not exactly hygenic since it’s an open wound but i mean…you’re dating the attic rat)
Brahms Heelshire
When living with Brahms there isn’t usually much to injure yourself on considering the estate is fairly out of the way from the rest of the village. You most likely caught yourself on a pair of sheers. Brahms is being stubborn about you being out of the house and slings the sheers in your general direction from the door frame when you ask for them. You don’t even notice you sliced your hand when catching them until you see a patch of blood soaking through your gardening gloves about ten minutes later.
You come in to grab a tea towel to wrap your bleeding finger in, not really fazed as it’s only a small cut. Brahms was lurking from the window as you tended to the hedges, not wanting to be away from you but not yet brave enough to tempt leaving the house he’s been in all these years.
As soon as he sees it he’s panicking, it’s only a little cut and you’re not concerned in the slightest but to Brahms you may as well have just came in with an arm missing. He’s instantly flittering around you asking if you’re ok and if you need a hospital.
You stifle your laugh at his over the top concern, you find it rather sweet, it’s not his fault he’s a little bit sheltered.
After cleaning the cut and bandaging it, it’s totally fine. If anything Brahms needs more reassuring and coddling than you do to get him to settle.
He apologises a thousand times for his attitude because he knows If he hadn’t been stroppy about you leaving the house and passed the sheers nicely then you wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. He promises to try be more composed when he starts getting antsy.
He may need some ✨punishment✨ in order to encourage his behaviour change and to feel forgiven.
He begrudgingly lets you back outside to garden after about a week.
Asa Emory
If you’re the pet of Asa then it’s likely that most of your injuries are purposefully given from him and are no mistake. You’re poked and prodded often considering your residency in the collection. Wounds from experiments and correctional punishments when you disobey or refuse to submit are not uncommon at all. So it doesn’t bother him since he inflicted them. This also assures he cleans them with clinical precision. If you were anyone else he would leave the wounds to fester, if you died from a complication then that was just inconvenient. Not you though, you’ve caught his attention and heart. He loves you in his own domineering way.
If the wound was created by him on accident then he would give himself a hard time, chastising himself for his carelessness.
For example, if he had more trouble with law enforcement than he thought and that led to you to spending way more time in the trunk than you usually do, causing you to develop a sore from sitting in one cramped position for too long.
Asa would realise you’re injured once you’re let out of the trunk, hissing in pain as you stretch. He makes you show him where you’re hurting so he can inspect over it.
Despite Asa’s stony face his stomach is actively sinking. He knows you’re hurt because of him and it wasn’t purposeful or measured like it would be during a punishment. He sees this as failure in his pet care and it takes a blow to his god complex. Gods don’t make mistakes, but here he is, hurting his dolly by being so out of it.
He’ll make sure to clean it for you and even stop putting you in the trunk for a while. This does however still mean you’ll be attached to him via leash or chain connected to the ring sitting on his belt. Just because you’re hurt and his favourite toy, doesn’t mean he will except anything less than your complete and total submission.
He’ll be more tender and soft handed with you than usual for a while after. Punishments will be withheld until you heal. Then it’s back to normal routine as expected.
Predator/yautja
You were wearing a new perfume you’d picked up at the market during the day, You were only supposed to be getting meats and maybe a new fur for the bed but once the alien at the stand had convinced you to sample it you fell in love with it.
Your mate picks up on an unknown scent entering the house, hackles raising and stalking towards it. As soon as they catch the heat signature they throw a wrist blade in warning.
Their eyes widen in horror, rushing to the door as they catch scent of your tangly blood dripping onto the hardwood floor of your shared home.
The new perfume masked your familiar scent from them, making them believe the house was in danger and being intruded on. If their face could loose colour it would, cringing as they see the wrist blade sticking through your palm, groceries discarded at the door.
They start talking at you in rapid clicks before they realise you can’t actually understand. After making sure to keep the object in your hand so you don’t bleed out and that you’re not going to pass out on them, they insist on carrying you their medic instead of going to an ooman one.
They argue that their medicine is far more advanced and will heal your wound much more efficiently then your “ primitive ooman medicine”
Thanks to yautja medicine being far more advanced, It will heal like nothing ever happened in around two weeks. The wound stitched shut and given some kind of injection.
Your mate purrs and clicks for you deep from their chest the entire time you’re having the blade removed to try calm you.
They beg for forgiveness despite it literally being an accident and will need some reassurance that they haven’t failed you as a mate. Once you’re all healed up they’ll bring back an impressive skull from a hunt as an apology even if you’ve already forgiven them.
Whilst it’s healing you’re probably going be kept in the nest of furs and pulled tightly against them whilst they purr and sooth you.
My requests are open if you’d like to send any prompts or ideas for me to write!
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wttcsms · 5 months
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baby, oh baby ; satoru gojo
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pairing satoru gojo x f!reader word count 1.2k synopsis gojo is surprisingly good at caring. (or: he comforts you while you get morning sickness and start spiraling). content contains thr*wing up (morning sickness), pregnancy, pregnant!reader, domestic fluff, soft!gojo, reassurance
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Satoru Gojo knows he’s a dead man from the minute he swings open the bathroom door and finds you curled up by the toilet. 
Even in his shirt and a pair of sweatpants that have clearly seen better days, with your hair all messed up and your lips chapped, Gojo thinks you are absolutely adorable. Beautiful, even. 
He tells you this, thinking it’ll cheer you up, but all you do is narrow your pretty little eyes at him.
“You,” you practically snarl at him. “You did this to me!”
He raises his hands in mock surrender. “Now, honey, I know it’s been a while since you took a biology class, but it takes two of us to, you know—” He gestures to your stomach, which still isn’t showing much of a bump since it’s only the first trimester, but you get the message. He decides he should have just shut up whenever you send him an absolutely scathing glare.
“It’s all my fault.” He immediately changes his tune. “You’re right, honey, I am an awful person for getting you pregnant. You should kill me for my transgressions.” 
“You want to make me a single mother now?” You snap at him.
“Okay, I see that that was the wrong thing to say.” Gojo tries to give you a soothing smile to calm you down, but it comes off as more of a nervous grimace. “I would never die early and let you raise our wonderful child alone. As a matter of fact, I refuse to die only until you tell me it’s okay to do so!” 
“Satoru.” You close your eyes, opening the toilet lid, anticipating another bout of morning sickness to come spilling out your mouth. “Get out.” 
“Nah. That’s the one thing I can’t do.” He dares to take another step into the bathroom, frowning at how cold the marble tiles are. It can’t possibly be comfortable for you to be kneeling on the floor like this, especially since you’re throwing up last night’s dinner. 
“Satoru, I’m not being funny right now. I’m seriously about to vomit, and you won’t want to be here.”
He kneels down by your side, gathering your hair in his hand and pulling it all behind your shoulders. “I’m not being funny, either. I’ll stay by your side no matter what.” 
You don’t reply to his sweet comment, even though you really want to. Instead, you actually do make good on your word, and only after you flush the toilet does he bother saying anything else.
“Do you feel a bit better now?” 
“Yes. No. I don’t know!” You shut your eyes, leaning against him, your back pressed against the warmth of his chest. Being pregnant sounded hot during the heat of the moment when the baby was being made, but now reality is hitting, and you’re already crying about how ugly maternity clothes are. You look like a wreck right now, and you’re barely nine weeks in with the pregnancy. Meanwhile, Satoru looks fan-fucking-tastic, as he always does. 
His hand finds yours easily, and he intertwines your fingers together. He starts to absentmindedly fiddle with your wedding ring as he talks. 
“What’s bothering you?” 
You know that while Satoru was pursuing you, there was a long line of women all excited and ready to be the one by his side. You know that Satoru sometimes is a certified flight risk, running away from intimacy when the feeling gets too overwhelming for him. You know that Satoru is the only man capable of breaking your heart, and he’s subsequently the only man who would be able to piece it back together. Even with a ring and a legal certificate binding you two together, there are still annoying little doubts running in the back of your mind that has only worsened through your anxiety of life literally being grown inside of you and unbalanced hormones. 
“Everything.” You tell him, and it’s not even a joke or an exaggeration. 
“Well, tell me something that’s bothering you now. Something I can solve.” He adds on this last sentence, already knowing that you would most likely ask him for the impossible just to be funny. As conceited as he acts to the outside world, Satoru is surprisingly caring and observant towards others. 
“What if our baby is ugly?” You look up at him, gauging his reaction.
At first, his eyes widen, and then he laughs. You can tell it’s genuine because you can feel the way it comes from his chest. 
“It has us as its parents. With both our genes combined, it won’t have much to worry about.”
“No! I’m serious! Haven’t you heard the saying that two pretty people make an ugly baby?” 
“Well, we’ll be the exception.”
“I’m being serious, Satoru! Your eyes are kinda scary to look at sometimes. Our baby will need brown contacts if it inherits your eyes.” 
Oh, so because you’re emotionally fragile, you’re allowed to make comments about his eyes? Satoru snorts. You better be lucky he loves you so much. 
“Why does it matter if our baby is ugly? Why is our baby being ugly even a thought in your mind?”
“This world sucks. Looking good is key to having an enjoyable experience on earth. You should start worrying about our child’s future, too, you know!” 
“I would fight the entire world if it mistreated our baby.” Satoru presses a reassuring kiss to the top of your head. “And I know you would, too. So who cares if our baby is ugly?”
“That’s not the point, Satoru!” You frown, knowing that you’re being ridiculous right now, but who else could handle you in this state if not him? There’s a reason why he’s the one you call your husband, and he’s the one who put the aforementioned potentially-ugly baby inside of you. 
“Fine. If our baby is ugly, let’s leave it on Kento’s doorsteps and let it be his problem for the next eighteen years. Then, we can get started on the next and hope the second time’s the charm. Sounds like a solid plan?” He doesn’t mean it, but he knows it’s best to just try and nip these hypotheticals in the bud. 
You’re silent for a moment. Then, “You’re awful! I would love our baby, even if it had your eyes and crazy ass hair.” 
“I would love our baby, too. Ugly or not. You know why?”
“You’re going to say something corny.” 
“I was going to say that I would love our baby because it came from you. Nothing ugly is coming out of your body, babe. And anyway, I love you so much, how could I hate anything that’s literally half you?” 
Even if you’re in the mood to be annoying and insecure, and your brain is telling you to argue some more with your husband, you can’t help but relax after hearing this. 
(Nine months later, all your worries seem to be all for naught; your son is the cutest thing to be born.)
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quaintii · 1 year
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To be with you is all I want.
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Warnings: breeding kink, slight choking, p with plot, fem!reader. Very passionate smut below! A slight spoiler of Atsv. torture, bodily harm, and blood!!! trigger warning !!!
enjoy 💖💖!!
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You and Miguel have always been each other's partner in capturing anomaly's. Yet Miguel always suggested that you stay back, away from harm. But you continuously refused his request, you couldn't be inside your apartments, walking around in circles, wondering if he's fine or not. Worry runs through your bloodstream, every second, same goes for Miguel but worse. He worries every second that you'll die because of him.
In the middle of the night, you kept rustling back and forth in your bed, trying to grasp onto something. Someone. You immediately wake up and realize Miguel has gone off to a mission without even warning you about it. You are furious and quickly put on your suit and ask Lyla to find out where he is. You swing your way into a weird, black-noir universe. It looked bleak and darkly cynical. You figured that Miguel was using Spider-Man noir's backup. The atmosphere was so thick, you almost choked as you weren't adjusted to some multiverses. You caught a whiff of smoke and fire.
Your Spidey senses then took the lead and you finally found where Miguel was. You were incredibly furious with him but you couldn't think of that right now. Miguel was fighting Morlum. You've constantly heard slight whispers about him, especially from Miguel. What you can take from what you already know, Morlum has tried hijacking the multiverses and he is seeking to find the spider totems and take control of HQ. You swing your way in but your Spidey senses react too slow to a crashing wall heading your way.
Luckily, you crotch down to avoid it as best as you could. It leaves quite a big injury on you though. Your forearm now has a big open slit trailing down in blood, due to the concrete building. It was a deep cut. When Miguel felt someone else at the scene, he happened to lay eyes on you, he was worried you would severely bleed out. The blood wouldn't stop. His eyebrows furiously furrowed together and he clenched his jaw and tried his best to focus on Morlum. Spider-noir was throwing many walls towards Morlum, trying to crush him to pieces. Mush.
Miguel used his red lasso and webs to tie down Morlum's legs together, causing him to fall down. But Morlum uses his super strength to make the floor below him fall. Ensuring his legs to finally let go. The floor completely crumbles and produces a ton of dust. You wipe your dust off your suit and can seem to see anything. Your hearing is very sensitive so they start ringing as metal scratches at each other due to the collapse. You sense someone near you and before you have time to turn around and web them, they hold your back against their chest.
"Wow, you sure seem like a good piece of bait for me to use!" Morlum says enthusiastically. "You look pretty cute too..too bad I have to kill you." "NO! No, get your fucking hands off her, you fucking shitbag. She's not a part of this, let her go." Miguel yells.
Morlum holds a knife at your throat so suddenly, you shiver with terror, running through your blood. Your flight or fight turns on, and you don't look like you have an option. This man has such a strong hold onto your body, you can't even let alone, move a muscle. "You seem to be quite concerned about this woman, well that puts you to more use!" Morlum chuckles. Miguel's eyes filled with absolute trepidation. His breathing becomes rougher, he begins to hyperventilate. He can't imagine ever losing you, he can't lose another dear loved one again. He can't imagine the pain of two, let alone one. Morlum pushes the knife closer into your skin, carving a light line. Miguel's jaw clenched harder than a rock. He didn't know what to do and he didn't know where spider-noir went.
You were trembling with fear, tears swelled your eyes. You felt like this was all your fault, because you're always so stubborn and never bother to ever listen to Miguel. Your lips quiver as you bite down on your lips, hard enough to draw out blood. You felt like all of this was a dream, you hoped for it to be one. Miguel moved a few inches, trying to grab you out of his grasp. Morlum then threatened to stab you in the liver if Miguel moved any closer. Miguel's body felt like he was being stabbed with thousands of knives. Morlum would make small cuts around your body, some deep, some shallow. Miguel yells "Mierda!" with a hurtful tone, he secretly advises Lyla to send backup immediately. He was too scared to breathe, fearing he could easily lose you in a second. You both stared at each other, a wholeheartedly look within fear hiding behind it. Miguel was trying to reassure you that everything was going to be ok. "Esta bien, mi vida. Te voy a sacar de esto, te lo juro, amor. Amas quedate quieta." Miguel's expression was drowning in helplessness.
"She seems like quite a trophy, Miguel! I can see you do have quite a taste." Morlum licks your cheek and nibbles a bit at your neck. Your huge discomfort grows more and you can't stop crying. Miguel was revolted by this, clenching his knuckles till his blood went cold, white. He felt like his jaw was about to lock and break. "Don't touch her! You keep your repugnant self away from her." Miguel yelled with an immense amount of hatred. Both of your guys' Spidey senses tingle as you feel other Spidermen approaching the situation. They all work collectively to pick up a razor sharp platform, sending it straight towards Morlum's head. Before Morlum could sense what was coming towards him, you immediately tuck your head and his grip on you releases. His head was sliced off clean. Blood guzzling out of his body. Before you could fall weakly on your knees, Miguel runs towards you, carrying you in his arms bridal style. He hugs you so tightly and you both tear up together.
"I thought I almost lost you, amor. I can't ever imagine losing you, ever. You're my everything." Miguel says as he places you grabs ahold of your cheeks, wiping away the blood and tears off of your cheeks. Giving you long, passionate kisses to you. Pecks on your forehead too. The amount of reassurance made you feel more at ease and comfortable.
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Miguel continues to carry you in bridal style on the way home. He opens the window to your guys' bedroom and heads to the bathroom. He keeps showering you with a lot of love and reassurance. "Mi amor, te amo, por favor nunca vuelvas a hacer eso. Mi corazón ya mero se murió. Te amo demasiado, princesa. I couldn't bear seeing you being hurt, ever. I love you so, so much." He said while holding your body from behind. You were between his thighs, you laid your head back onto his chest, hearing his heart thump loudly. The bathtub was so warm, you could stay like this with him for hours. You loved Miguel. And he loved you too.
Both of your bodies emit more heat and the warmth calmly engulfs you both. You were both now clean, Miguel got out first and dried himself off. Despite seeing him nude multiple times before, you loved seeing him like that. He then wrapped a bath towel around his lower waist. Then grabs your hand and lets the water drain. He wrapped a towel over your body. Letting you stay warm. Then he dried yours and his hair with the hairdryer. You loved how much he put focus and care into you. You would return the same back too by giving him massages, going out on walks, seeing movies, etc.
Miguel then caught your eyes wandering around his body, he slightly smirked. "Take a picture to look at me for longer, mi vida." Miguel said while sneering. "Porque? Cuando te tengo enfrente de mi, cariño. I can't ever take my eyes off of you, you're so handsome." You say while heading towards him, grabbing the back of his neck and rustling his hair. He then pushed his lips against yours. Unfolding a deep, passionate, needy kiss. Your tongue wrapped with his. The smell of skin filled your nose, your fluttering heart thumped more and more. The soft taste of his plump lips on yours, his warm embrace against your chest as both towels fall on the floor. His gentle hands reaching your body, aching to be touched. His hands roams to your neck and hair, proceeding down to your hips. You then jump onto his chest and he grabs a hold of your hips. You both try not bumping into the door and open it while still kissing.
Your mind was starting to turn dizzy and foggy. He gently placed your chest on top of the bed. Giving you pecks and small bites along your spine, making you shiver. He softly turned you around. Both of your guys' lips magnetized. Not letting go, not even for a gasp of air. Miguel positions his back against the bed frame, pulling you on his hip, holding you in a lotus position. Your chest touching him enlightens fire down your core. Your nipples perked from the amount of arousal growing down your core. "You're the most beautiful, sosphicasted, intelligent, erotic, loving woman I've ever known and loved my whole life." Miguel said with a soft tone. Whispering it in your ear. Nibbling it softly, pulling out small moans out of your mouth. "Susurro estas palabras solo para que el mundo las escuche. Tu eres mi mundo entero, mi amor." Miguel said while groaning against your neck. Your head slightly goes back, you bite your lower lips. "Miguel, please more.. I want you to touch me more." You say with a hint of desperation and begging. "No muñeca.. we have the whole night to ourselves right now. Let me cherish and worship your body.
Miguel slides his fingers across your cunt, pulling it to your face. You moan to the touch of his rough fingers on your slick wetness."Look how soaking wet you're for me, cariño. Let me put that pussy to use, si? ¿Quieres eso, amor?" Miguel said softly with admirable eyes boring into yours. You nod slowly, groaning as he picks you by the hips. He then placed the head of his cock against your entrance. Your cunt twitched at the heat emitting from his breath against your neck. He then slammed you onto his cock, reaching your cervix.
You feel your body's nerves crashing down, the pleasure makes you feel so full. You moan erotically against Miguel's chest, cursing under your breath. "F-fuck Miguel, I feel you in my stomach.. you're so big. It's t-too much f'me.." you say between pants. "I love having you like this muñeca. I can't ever lose you, understand?" Miguel said softly. "God your body does unimaginable things to me, cariño." He cups his rough, big hands around your ass, slapping it as he begins bringing your hips and down his cock. Miguel stared at your beautiful face, saying incoherent words and the seductive expressions you would make. Your mouth being agape, gasping for air as Miguel would push every oxygen in you out of your body with a simple thrust of his cock. Your cunt spasms as Miguel grabs your throat softly. "Look at me, amor. I wanna see your pretty face getting fucked." Miguel said with a lustful tone. His eyes never let go of yours. You tried your best to not roll your eyes to the back of your head and kept eye contact with him.
More fire enlightened deep inside your core when Miguel's cock twitched when you reached for his neck, nibbling on it, leaving hickies. Miguel returning the same for you. Both of you are groaning and moaning, loudly. Not having a care of who could hear the both of you. The pleasure was towering over your body and your cunt uncontrollably spasms when Miguel said, "Cum around my cock for me, amorcito. Do it. Make me cum. I want my babies inside of your gorgeous body. M-mierda.." As you ride your orgasm out, Miguel's pace fastens, leaving you with tremendous overstimulation that leaves your throat choking out screams and wails for him to stop. A few more thrusts and he finally pumps his seed inside of you. Small droplets of tears leave your eyes, Miguel wipes them away by kissing them. "You did good f'me, baby. I love you so much." "I love you so much more than you could even imagine, Miguel. Te amo cariño."
Miguel finally pulls out of you, leaving your cunt clenching around nothing. Miguel then grabs a couple of small towels to clean you up. He then gave you your loungewear as he clothed himself with his boxers and shorts. You tie up your hair into a messy bun, then turn to lay beside Miguel. His arm hugging around your body, pulling you close. His chest against your face, both of you easily fall asleep.
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:33 hai guys this took me Abt 1 hr n a half to do! This was really fun to do, please send more requests! Love u all ! <3
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