Just Started Drivers Ed And I Already Don't Like Driving On Dirt Or Gravel Roads...

nicknames, sukuna

a/n: short soft sukuna drabble cause he makes me go crazy. ignore any translation mistakes, i used google translate 😭 content: sukuna speaking in japanese. fluff, nsfw (oral - fem!recieving) wc: 582

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

"sukuna," you call him as he's seated beside you watching a random season of survivor. he hums in reply. "you're my cutie pie".

you cheese at him when he turns his head to look at you, eyebrows furrowing. "i'm your what?" you don't miss the slight blush that creeps up on his face. "my cutie pie," you say moving closer to make yourself comfortable in his lap. "my sugar plum," he raises an eyebrow at you.

the ends of his mouth slighlty tugging upwards. "my cupcake" you kiss him on the cheek "my cotton candy," your hands in his hair as you kiss his forehead. unable to hold it in any longer, he smiles. "my suki wookie," you look into his eyes and smile squishing his face. he lets out a quiet chuckle.

he flops you on the mattress as he pries your legs open and makes himself comfortable on top of you. trails kisses down your body as he whispers sweet words in japanese into your skin like a secret. "恋人 — koibito (lover) " a quick peck on your lips. "天使 — tenshi (angel)" a kiss at the space between your ear and neck. "私の心の光 — watashi no kokoro no hikari (light of my heart)" his lips move over your chest.

you wish you could understand what he was saying. you only knew the basics so you could figure out he said "my". my what, you wondered. "what does that mean?" you ask quietly. he looks up at you, the look in his eyes soft and loving "my brat". he jokes his head falling down to your chest as he laughs. "sukunaaa" you laugh.

he continues leaving feather light kisses over your body. now moving over your hips "私の桜 — watashi no sakura". you gasp as you translate it in your head. "your cherry blossoms?" you chirp. caught, his cheeks turn a shade darker. "can i, か甘いい女の子 — ka ama ī on'nanoko" that you knew. he always called you that. sweet girl. his sweet girl. you nod.

he kisses over your panties. you whimper. a slight sheen of wetness coating you as he pulls off your panties. "キャンディーのように甘い — kyandī no yō ni amai (sweet like candy) " he whispers to himself.

he kisses your clit once, twice, until your hand scratches at his scalp. "please," you whine. "hmm, be patient, 恋人の女の子 — koibito no on'nanoko (lover girl), haven't eaten all day". his tongue pokes out and he lickes a stripe from your opening to your clit. his lips wrapping around your clit as he moans in satisfaction at your taste. his finger moves down to your opening as his mouth over your clit brings you pleasure. his finger moves in and out of you at a teasing pace, fast and then slow.

your legs tighten around his head, limiting his oxygen intake but he doesn't make any move to pry them away. instead his tongue on your clit moves at a feverish pace. you soon cum with a cry of his name. mewling and moaning. he pulls away.

happiest man on earth. he thinks that whenever he's with you. "愛してます — aishitemasu (i love you)", he says softly, expecting no reply. you've watched enough romantic japanese movies to know what he meant, so you reply back "私も愛しているよ, すくな — watashi mo itoshite iru yo, sukuna (i love you too, sukuna)". and his mouth drops. giddy at your confession he takes away your breath as he kisses his love into you.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

Good job!

Rings

Pairing: Choi San x Reader

Other Stuff: Fluff, just Fluff; Friends that are too afraid to ask each other out; I think this’ll be my entry for Valentine’s Day, I’m really not sure ( wala kase akong jowa lol; trans: I don’t have lover lol)

Rings are special to you, very special even, causing you to having a collection of your own. Rings of so many kind filled your jewelry box, in fact, that’s just your FIRST jewelry box. They were just too many that you had to get another box to put them in, only for it to be immediately filled by, obviously rings. You have the chunky ones, the thin ones, the ones that are just simple, and even the ones with big-ass diamonds, gems and even stones in them. Just let everybody name any ring they want and you just…you just have it But, those rings of yours are not as special to the one you’ve been wearing for 9 years now. It was a ring you personally made for you and your best friend, Choi San,…who’s also the man of your dreams. Ironically, you made a friendship ring with the guy you loved for 11 years and wore it for 9 years, 9 years of being friend-zoned, I guess? It’s not like you confessed to him and he rejected you, only wanted you as his best friend, I mean, the friendship rings itself were giving it’s way to you, dumb of you to make those rings when you already loved him more than a friend and no longer sees him as just a best friend of yours “Hey!”; “Shoot!” You jumped out of surprise, your nerves knocking you out of your reminiscing state of mind while the suspect who surprised you was already throwing their head back out of laughter; “San?! Seriously?!” You whined, rolling your eyes at him as you heaved deeply; “You’re so jumpy, aren’t you?” He teased while nudging his shoulder to yours; “Yeah, whatever. So, are you ready to go?” You asked, your arms still crossed in front of your chest; “Of course! Let’s go, jumpy!” He teased one more time, ruffling your hair before running away from you; “CHOI SAN!!” You exclaimed as you tried to catch up on him, only for you to give up and eventually, continue walking half-way to your destination You deeply huffed in air, catching your breath as you finally arrived at the Pet Cafe, being greeted by San who’s busy giggling, already playing with the cats and dogs. All of them swarmed over to him, wanting his attention…or treats, and as per you, you were only smiling at the adorable interaction between him and the fur babies. San looked up and saw you, lost in your own thoughts while mindlessly smiling at him; “Y/N! C’mere!” He called out, his hand motioning you to come as you shook your head, bringing yourself back to reality before continuing your way to him. The cats and dogs all turned their attention to you as you only smiled widely, making sure you pet all of them equally; “They really like you more, huh? I’m kinda jelly” He pouted as you giggled. You reached to his hand and placed it on top of the cat’s head, who’s comfortably curled up into your lap while some of the others left; “They like you too, dumbo” You teased as the cat purred from San’s touch; “See?” You giggled as San continued caressing the cat while you noticed something “By the way, where’s you ring?” You mindlessly asked, still caressing the siamese cat on your lap; “Oh, that? Well, It doesn’t fit my index finger anymore so, I just kept it here” He explained as he takes out the ring from his pocket, showing it to you; “And you said that it has to be “specifically” on my index finger for some reasons so, yeah” He added while you only laughed, remembering that you’ve never really explained the reason behind it; “Yeah I did, actually our index fingers means friendship, that’s why I asked you to wear it there” You explained, chuckling; “Really? So, what should I do with this then?” He asked, showing you his ring again; “I don’t know, hide it I guess?” You asked back, confused; “Oh wait- I think it fits my- yeah, it does fit, look!” San exclaimed, showing you the ring that’s on his ring finger now; “W-What? Does the ring finger mean enemies? death? or any bad thing? what? what?!” He slightly panicked, caused by your shocked face; “I-It actually…means, it means marriage…” You laughed awkwardly; “R-Really?” He asked, his face turning red and a smile slowly creeping up into his lips You felt heat traveling up into your cheeks, tinting them red as you felt a blooming sensation inside you along with your butterflies flapping their wings inside you. You felt your heart skip a beat just now, as a smile creeps up into your lips as well; “Y-Yup” You answered, trying to hold in your emotions; “Then, why don’t we start our way there?” He shamelessly asked, your heart beating twice faster than before; “Are you serious? Like serious-serious?” You asked, quite unsure if you’re gonna lie or just be honest with your feelings for him; “I’m more than serious-serious, L/N Y/N” He says, his hand travelling to yours, holding it tightly; “So, you like me too?” You asked again; “I..I love you, Y/N” He mindlessly and shamelessly says, tightening his clasp onto your hands; “So, do you want to start our way to marriage?”; “Are you asking me out or your asking me to marry you-”; “Just answer the question” He giggled at how tensed you are right now; “Y-Yes!” You smiled, both of your happiness now can’t be hidden. San takes your hand and removes the ring on your index finger, putting it back, but instead in your ring finger “Now, our friendship rings are not friendship rings anymore, they’re our couple rings now!” San claims, caressing your cheeks with his free hand, happiness visible on his face as his smile grows even more and so is yours; “Are you sure this is not planned? Cuz’ you putting the ring on your ring finger is so smooth, cuz’ of that, now we’re dating” You say, a snort coming out of you, followed by a laugh; “Nope, I just love you too much that I took that opportunity” He confidentally explains, smiling widely, you two continued on caressing the cat while his other hand caresses yours; “I love you too”; “I love you more, Y/N”.

The End

skz & feelings/words I associate them with (?)

chan- comfort, hug and reassurance

lee know- warmth, tenderness and patience

changbin- respect, gratitude and safety

hyunjin- love, passion and serenity

han- empathy, joy and hope

felix- faithfulness, kindness and affection

seungmin- softness, inspirational and considerate

innie- trustworthy, sincere and thoughtful

Mmm…. Don’t mind me… just thinking about taking care of Nagito during the killing game.<3

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Now playing - Hey Lover

Words - 3458

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Imagine this. You had just expireniced what you can imagine was the worst thing anyone can ever see. You literally had to watch one of your friends (I mean, you wouldn’t really call Teruteru you friend, but still.) get executed. Not only were you in a very tense situation, like you couldn’t trust anyone, but someone fucking killed someone else, and you had to watch someone die. To say you were going through a lot would be an understatement. But, you knew you had to keep moving forward, for the sake of you and your fellow classmates.

But something else was bugging you. A certain boy who has been shown to have a very…. Deprecating view on himself. He almost got himself killed if it wasn’t for Hajime’s logic and practical thinking. He thought he had to full on kill someone else, and was about to do it, too, just so he could make others feel better. That truly didn’t sit right with you. And something else that didn’t sit right with you was the fact that you couldn’t find him anywhere in the restaurant. Something was going on and you really didn’t like it. You already saw two of your friends die, you weren’t about to see another one meet the same fate.

Just as you were about to check to see if he was just sleeping in, you saw your classmate Sōda pacing back and forth near the entrance of the hotel.

“Hey, sōda! I have a random question to ask you, are you busy?”

“Busy? Huh? Who? Me? I’m not busy, never been busy in my whole life! W-what would you like to ask?”

He tried to push the fact he was a-okay, but you knew something was boiling underneath his smiley mask.

“Have you seen Nagito anywhere around?”

“N-Nagito? W-w-who’s Nagito? Why-uh-why do you ask? Why would you never want to be around someone like him?!”

You looked at him with a suspicious glare. Yes, it did seem strange to want to be around him, but if no one else was going to, you knew you had to be the one. He always acted so nice and friendly to others, and it strangely made you want to act the same way. And yes, the thought that me might try to kill again was scary, but sometimes you just have to take risks, especially if it’s for the sake of one of your friends.

“Soda, come on, don’t say something like that. Just as Nagito would say, that’s not very hopeful of you. Hehe- but seriously, where is he. Did you do something?”

“… uh-um. I… I didn’t do anything…”

You gave him another glare, this one filled with more angry than before. The thoughts of what kinds of torchurous things Sōda could have done to him made your skin crawl. You needed to make sure he was okay.

“Sōda, if you didn’t tell me where he is and what you did to him, I’ll find a way to get it out of you.”

After a few seconds of him trying to get himself to hold back, he burst.

“Okay, okay, okay!! Please stop looking at me like that! N-Nagito is in the abandoned house… I wanted to make everyone feel safer… and it’s impossible unless that… monster is chained up. He got what he deserves for trying to-“

“Chained up?!! You sound just as bad as he was, what the fuck is wrong with you?! You actually thought that was a good idea? That’s inhumane, even to someone who put someone’s life in danger! What the fuck, dude!

You pushed soda’s shoulders, causing him to yelp in fear.

“I-I! B-b-but he- I…. I guess your right… but he put someone’s life in danger once already, there is nothing stopping him from doing it again!! You just want me to let him go off and kill someone else?! Maybe you’re the crazy one!”

“Ugh… here. Why not I make a deal. I’ll take the responsibility of watching over him 24/7 to make sure he doesn’t do anything dangerous if you can give me the key or whatever to his chains. Sound fair? And if something happens, you can lock him and me up, okay?”

He thought for a few minuets, his hand messing around with something in his pocket.

“….. fine, I’ll agree to that. It would be more useful having someone always keeping a watch on him. Here…”

He cautiously gave you the key, which looked to be the key to a pair of handcuffs. You thanked him before quickly beginning to sprint over to the abandoned house. You didn’t know how long he must have been kept in there, it was like Schrödinger’s cat. He could either me alive, or in worse case senecio, dead. Those awful thoughts only made you run faster.

As soon as you jumped up the creaky sodden stairs and flung open the door, you were face to face with a certain fluffy, pink and white rabbit. Monomi.

“Wahwahwahhh?! What are you doing here?!”

You were honestly surprised. Did Sōda convince Monomi to stand guard here or something? Did she know the situation that Nagito was currently in? Did she know how bad did a fucking idea this was?!

“Monomi. I know Sōda probably convinced you to stand here, but please, you don’t know the true scale of this problem. Nagito’s health could probably be in danger right now, and you’re blocking people from even entering the building. At least let me by, okay?”

“WA-WA-WAH?!!? H-his health?! Is he in danger?!”

“He could be! And that’s why I really need to check on him, please let me by.”

“Eeek!! Okay! You can go by!”

With a few squeaky-toy noises as Monomi stepped out of the way, you started twards the ominous wooden doors of the main room. Something inside of you was whispering you weren’t going to like the sight ahead of you. As you opened the doors with a loud, ear piercing screech, your suspicions came true.

“…. Reader? Ah….hahaha! I never couldn’t have guessed you would be the one to come and meet me. Forgive me, due to my… restrictions, I cannot grant you my fullest hospitalities, but please, make yourself at home.”

A part of you was insanely relieved. He wasn’t dead, clearly, or hurt, or in any sort of dangerous position, which put you a little more at ease. But, he was fucking chained up!! That’s like the definition of inhumane! To chain someone up like this, uncomfortably resting on the hard floor, his shoulder must be hurting like ever living hell! Soda may have had a reason to want to put Nagito in a position where he couldn’t easily hurt someone, but this is straight up disgusting.

You were too shocked to even speak. All you could do with your body was approach him, kneeling down in front of him. He cocked his head in confusion. He may be someone who likes to think everything through and form an idea of what others may do, but he really didn’t expect you to do something like… this!

“What are you doing? Are you.. heh…. Heheheh… hahahahahh!!! No, you can’t be. Don’t tell me you feel bad for someone as revolting as me! Do you know how much of your time you would waste worrying about someone like me?”

You tried to say something… anything. Maybe tell Nagito it’s not truly, that he truly does have worth, or maybe that you were going to free him, just anything to put your mind at ease. But nothing came out. Only silence. And after a few moments, quiet sobs followers shortly by tears. It broke your heart to see your classmates, people who you thought you could trust, do such absolutely cruel things! Is this truly how humans behave when in these life or death situations?!

“Huh? Why are you crying? Am I that awful to be around that I bring you to tears with just my presence?”

All you could manage to do was shake you head. You took a could deep breaths, channeling all the willpower you had to form the strength to find the right words.

“You… you don’t deserve this… this is so cruel. How… how could someone do this to you? I…. I can’t bare to see this anymore… if we continue, we are going to turn into fucking animals. He need to come together, not tear each other apart… I will… c-can I… can I at least…”

You wanted to say that you wanted to help him feel a little better, to help him know at least one person didn’t hate him, and even cared for him, but the words couldn’t fall off the tip of your tongue.

“…. I… deserve to be treated well? Heh… are you saying I deserve hope?”

You nodded.

“Of course… everyone does. So can I… can I show you some… hope? Eh- that sounded weird-um, what I mean is, I made a deal with Soda that I-I- um, I could take care of you. At least, that’s what I want to do.”

Nagito froze. You were… were you planning on freeing him? And what do you mean by taking care of him. Were you letting him go so you could find a way to kill him? He couldn’t help but perk up at the thought. Getting killed so someone else could bring hope to others… he couldn’t think of a better idea himself!

“Of course! If that’s what you want to do, then by all means, do whatever you want!”

You couldn’t help but laugh a tiny bit, but you nodded in agreement, leaning over his body slightly to unlock his confinements. After his handcuffs came off, now was the hard part. His ropes. They would take a lot more effort to get off. So, in the mean time, why not have a conversation.

“I… I was thinking about something lately… why do you feel like you have to hurt others and yourself for the sake of everyone else?”

“Well, it’s obvious! If hurting one of a few people can bring hope to a lot more people, then it’s an easy choice to make! Especially when it’s myself. I truly have no worth, so being used for hope just gives my life meaning-“

“No, I meant did anything happen in your life to make you think this way about yourself?”

“Well, my whole life was kinda… rough. But, it doesn’t and shouldn’t matter to an ultimate like you! Wow…. Hahahah, I truly can’t comprehend why someone would be wasting their time freeing me. Don’t you know how dangerous I am? Or maybe…. It’s because you’re the ultimate hope! Ahahah…. HAHAHAH! All of this would make sense! You came to save me because you-“

“Nagito, please,” you tossed the ropes aside after finally getting them off, “don’t say such things about yourself. Please.”

To his surprise, you placed your hand on his head. Even by the littlest of touch, just a hand resting on his white hair, causes his face to erupt in a massive but light blush. But you had other things on your mind. Such as his hair. His hair looked very fluffy at first, but now touching it, it felt very matted and tangly, as if he thinks he doesn’t even deserve to take care of himself. This needed to stop. First others treating him poorly, and now himself? Good thing you knew exactly what to do. After spending this whole time collecting all the determination you could, you decided it was time to stop acting like a little baby and take charge.

“Nagito, you’re coming with me. I’m going to show you that you truly are worth something. Here, take my hand.”

As Nagito’s eyes looked up at you, he swear for a second you looked exactly like an Angel. The air around you seemed to glow and sparkle, imagining a shining halo above your head and a large pair of silky wings on your back. It was so beautiful, he felt like he could cry. He timidly reached out to you, not even thinking he deserved to touch someone as hopeful as you. As soon as his hand of in yours, you carefully helped him to his feet. He groaned from the feeling of finally getting to stand up.

“You know… the more I look at you, the more I really want to take care of you. Come on, let’s go to my cottage. I’ll run you a nice warm bath, get you some food and brush your hair. Does that sound nice?”

He was too stunned to speak at your graciousness to scum like him. But… the mroe he thought about it, the more the idea peaked his interest.

“I… heheh, if this is truly something you want, I would be a disgrace to stop you.”

You gave him a comforting smile before heading back to your dorm.

.

..

….

After a few minutes, you exited your bathroom and approached Nagito, who was sitting a bit uncomfortably on your bed. His posture was stiff, as if he was too scared to more or even breath as to not ruin your bed. He was already so lucky, he was almost expecting something catastrophic to happen.

“Okay, the bath is pretty much ready. I even added some soap in there to make it all bubbly! Follow me.”

Nagito nodded and anxiously gulped. He followed you into the bathroom, staring in awe at the bathtub, which looked so warm and pretty with all the bubbles in it. It was almost like this was a dream. And if it was, he never, ever wanted to wake it.

“Here, test the water to see if it’s okay with you.”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Test the water? Uh, okay. If you want me to. But it truly doesn’t matter. As long as you say it’s okay, i won’t ever protest.”

You shook your head.

“Please Nagito. I told you, degrading yourself isn’t something you should be doing so often. It’s okay ti be self critical sometimes, but when it’s just about testing to see if the water is a good temperature or not, please understand that I respect your opinion. I want this to be about you… I want you to feel better after all the stuff Sōda tried to do. “

He could honestly feel tears welling up in his eyes again, but he pushed them away. He didn’t want to make you worry about him anymore then Joey currently were. He turned back to the tub and slowly stuck a few fingers in. Even though it was only his fingers, he already felt his body relaxing at the warm temperature.

“It’s… perfect. I… Um.. if you want I, I’m ready whenever you would like me to..”

You gave him an exhausted smile. At least he was trying.

“Then yes, if you want to get in, you can. I’ll close my eyes so you can undress.”

Nagito nodded before you covered your hands over your eyes. You heard faint slashing noises, which were the sounds of Nagito getting into the bath. He let out a low, barly audible sign, feeling all the tension in his body dissipate. It was almost magical. He usually takes cold showers because sits the quickest way to get clean without feeling like he is wasting other people’s warm water, so this was fairly new for him. You peaked between your fingers, putting your hands down as you saw the very content Nagito resting against the edge of the tub with a dazed expression. He was so flipping adorable! You giggled at the sight.

“Would it be okay if I wash you hair?”

“If you want to, I would stop you.”

“But, do you want me to?”

“… I… does it… matter how I feel?”

“Of course it does. It always matters how you feel. Now please, do you want me to?”

“…. Yes…”

“Good boy.”

As those two words fell off your tongue, it probably made you just as surprised as Nagito. Did your rally just say that?! Fuck, how embarrassing! But, on the flip side, Nagito’s brain was practically scrambling. First you freed him, then let him in your cottage, then made him a bath, and now you called him good boy? The red blush and the fucked out expression on his face was enough to tell you that he was really enjoying everything a lot right now. But, you didn’t want to ruin the mood with an sexual stuff right now.

You took a stray brush on the side of the sink and started to as carefully as you could start at the bottoms of his hair. And just as you thought, it was very, very tangled. He grunted and groaned at the pain, but didn’t speak out. If anything, he kinda felt like he deserved it so he was surprisingly, but also unsurprisingly, content.

“Mph… Nagito, please tell me the truth. How often to you spend time taking care of yourself?”

You think you already knew the answer to that, but you wanted to know the truth.

“Uh… maybe… every two days? I normally just take a cold shower… that’s… that’s really all I deserve-“

“What did I say about saying stuff like that? And only every two days? No wonder your hair is so tangled… don’t worry, I’ll make it better.”

“You know… after brushing your hair out a little, it looks a lot more fluffy now. It’s kinda pretty.

“You… hehe… you’re… so hopeful.”

Nagito couldn’t help but feel more relaxed then he has every felt in his life. And who could blame him? He was taking a nice, warm bath, having his hair brushed, and even being praised every so often! Before he could stop himself, he started falling asleep. His breathing slowed and his body went limp. You honestly thought something bad happened. But as you listened to his shallow breathing, you realized he just fell asleep. And fuck, was he adorable. He had the cutest face, so still and pristine, almost like a porcelain doll. And the fact that all it took for him to fall asleep was just taking care of him and treeating him like a normal human being made your heart melt and crack at the same time. At that moment, you knew what you were going to do. It was very likely Nagito hadn’t received this kind of treatment in his childhood, which could have been damaging to him. No wonder he always treats himself poorly. So, you decided you want to try and make up for that. To try and treat him as well as you can to show him that someone cares about him. Because you knew in your heart, even thought he is slightly psychotic and tried to commit murder, all because of the unknown events of his past, he were sure that you loved him.

As Nagito’s eyes adjusted to his surroundings, he found himself laying down in your bed with… your arms wrapped around him?! Were you… spooning him?!? He wanted to jump up or push himself away from you, but he didn’t want to wake you. And why would he want to jump out of your arms in the first place? They felt so warm… so comforting… he almost couldn’t handle. He really couldn’t handle everything that you do to him! It made he feel like he was something delicate, something that needed to be preserved. And to be honest, it was very addictive. He wore a familiar blush and smile on his face as he pushed his body against yours, hugging your arms tighter around him. You smelled so good… you felt so good… at first, he thought you were going to do all this and leave, which would be an acceptable thing in his mind, but no… you stayed here with him. You did so much just to stay with him. It gave him so many good feelings… good feelings of hope. He thought he would need to kill someone or himself so it could raise others spirits, but you… if he just finds ways to brighten your hope so you brighten his, maybe it would make giving other people hope a lot easier. Yes…. Yes, this was a great idea. But to be honest, it’s not all just about hope that makes him want to be closer to you. It’s also because it just feels so fucking good to do so. :) when you wake up, expect to be greeted with a spotless room, some food sitting on the table, and Nagito still wrapped in your arms.

raspberry leaves

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

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

word count: 12.5k

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?” 

But let’s rewind a moment, shall we? 

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

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

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

Your period is merciless. 

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

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

Nothing seems to help. 

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

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

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

Not for this. 

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

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

Can’t you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Geto Suguru wakes up a few moments later. 

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

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

But you’re not there. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, you don’t respond. 

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

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

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

“Baby? I’m gettin’ worried.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sugu…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t wan’ you t’see me.”

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

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

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

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

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

You just want to sleep. 

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

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

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

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

Suguru lets him rest. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s too much for you to handle alone. 

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

“Okay.”

Suguru hears the lock click. 

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

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

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

He’s never seen you look so hurt. 

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

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

This is a knife to his heart. 

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

“It hurts, Sugu…” 

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

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

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

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

“Haven’t slept yet.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hates the sound of your tears. 

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

“You took your painkillers?” 

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

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

“How long ago?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re doing so well, my darling.”  

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Sugu.” 

“Are you feeling any better?” 

You shake your head, sighing quietly as you shift.

“Not really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he only gets so far. 

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

You sway on your feet. 

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

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

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

Then your body stills, and you crumple. 

“Baby!” 

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

He’s going to be sick. 

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

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

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

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

Suguru doesn't know what to do. 

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

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

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

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

“Satoru!” 

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

“Satoru, wake up!”

But Satoru is already awake. 

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

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

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

Satoru thinks he’s dying. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Suguru.” 

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

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

“She’s not waking up…”

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

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

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

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

And he doesn't want to. 

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

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

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

Satoru sags in relief.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Suguru…” 

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

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

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

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

“Wha’ happened?” 

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

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

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

“Sorry.”

Suguru shakes his head with a hum. 

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

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

“‘S not so bad. Where’s Toru?”

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

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

“Gumi’s awake?”

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

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

“He’s worried about you, I think.”

We all are, he almost finishes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” Satoru murmurs. 

“Hi.” 

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

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

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

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

“Toru?”

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

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

“Oh, Satoru…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re here. And you’re safe. 

Satoru chews on his lip as he sighs. 

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

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

Satoru continues in a voice uncharacteristically weak for the Strongest. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby, it’s hurting you – How can…?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, love.” 

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

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

“Careful!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he? That’s very sweet of him.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

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

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

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

No, he doesn’t think he will. 

bonus:

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

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

geto, nodding along: she could

gojo, lovingly: I know

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

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

i love every part of you, lee minho.

pairing: lee know x reader

I do not claim that this is an actual representation of anyone.

a/n: ok i said i will be ia for a while but i've had this in my drafts for a long time so i just decided to finish it lmao,,+ the outfit issue he had some days ago, also inspired me to finish it lol

warnings: body insecurities, angst, fluff

2022 © hiy-breadcheeks– don't copy, repost, or translate.

════════════ ⋆♡⋆ ═════════════

You don't really have interest in social media, especially in twitter where you know a lot of problematic things happen, but you were glad curiosity took the best of you tonight.

Your boyfriend went to the bathroom not longer than a minute ago and he left his phone opened beside you on the bed. Now, both of you trusted each other enough to not mind when either of you looked at each other's phones so you decided to just look at what his fans were saying about your very talented boyfriend.

"THROW IT BACK AND FUCK IT UP LEE MINHO!!!!!" said one of the fans with a video of him attached, you giggled. "whST THE FUCJ DOES HE THINK HE'S DOING???? MY HEART IS TOO WEAK?????" a reply said, you nodded in agreement. The charisma you posses, Lee Minho... you thought.

You exited the tweet and scrolled further, your smile dropping to a frown.

"Look how frustrated he is. Somebody gonna get fired tonight, a styling staff specifically." A video of Minho fixing his outfit while looking obviously frustrated and uncomfortable was going viral amongst his fandom. Nothing was said against him, but mostly against the stylist. Saying how they should dress them better, complaining to his company, asking for the stylist to get fired, etcetera, etcetera.

You were starting to get angry as well because you knew damn well why Minho was acting like that, even more when you started to piece it together. You knew something was wrong when he came home earlier without a word or acting weird whenever you asked him if there was something wrong. You knew he was in a bad mood but you never pressed him to say anything because you knew he'd tell you if it really bothered him.

When Minho came out of the bathroom, he saw you scrolling through his phone with your eyebrows furrowed and he did nothing but sigh. He was planning to tell you but he guessed you found out before he had the chance to. Slowly, Minho made his way back to your shared bed. "Hey..." he said quietly, taking his phone when you handed it back to him, turning it off before placing it on the bedside table.

You did nothing but give him a small warm smile, your anger being replaced with worry and sadness. "I... I'm sorry, I just–" you cut him off with a kiss on his cheek. "No need for apologies, baby. Just tell me what's bothering you." you said, intertwining your hand with his. Minho took a deep breath, "I... don't like it. I hate... I hate the scar." you sighed deeply as you stared at your intertwined hands that he keeps fiddling with—a habit that you knew brought him comfort.

"Hmm, haven't we talked about this?" you whispered, taking your free hand and placing it where the scar was.

"I know, but when... w-when you work in an industry where your b-body and face a-are one of the main factors of–of that job... it's h-hard to ignore it, baby." he said in a shaky voice, you continued to stare and said nothing. "You don't know how many stays are asking us for... f-for ab reveals and stuff...ha" he slightly laughed at his own words, making you smile sadly, pulling him closer to you so you can lay on his chest. "You know they'll understand if you're not comfortable with it, right? Your fans love you, bubba. They're not leaving just cause you can't show a part of you."

"I know that, but I just want to do well. I want to sing well for them, to dance—but I can't do neither of those things when I'm too focused on my appearance. I can't dance well because it's not comfortable when my hair gets in the way, when my concept outfit gets in the way, and..." he paused, you looked up at him, kissing your forehead before speaking again, "and when I'm aware that there's a chance that my scar will show...just like what happened on the music show earlier..." he sighed. "Baby, you know how strict this industry is about our appearances. It's enough that people see me as cold, rude, emotionless– I don't want to look ugly in front of them too..."

You detached yourself from his chest and sat up, facing him with a smile, and because he was laying down, he needed to look up at you to give you a confused smile. "Do you remember when you first showed me your scar?"

"Tch! Of course, I do. I was nervous and embarrassed as hell, how could I forget?"

"And do you remember what I did after?" he said nothing and just nodded.

You lowered yourself so you can face his stomach, slowly pulling up his shirt and exposing his long surgical scar. Hesitantly, he placed his hand on yours that had the rest of his shirt crumpled in, "B-Baby–" you kissed his lips "Shhh.." you shushed, lowering your head again, smiling when you saw his stomach physically tensed.

You hummed as you lowered your lips and kissed every inch of his scar, slowly, lovingly... I love every part of you, Lee Minho... you thought as you kissed him.

He stared at you as you gave him the comfort he needed– the comfort he needed exactly from you. As you kissed his stomach where his hated scar was placed, he realized, as he continued to do so over and over, again and again-- how lucky he was that he found someone that loved him despite his flaws. He was thankful to no one but you because it was only you that made him feel so loved. How do you always manage to make me the happiest whenever I'm the saddest? he thought.

His smile grew bigger every kiss, his love for you grew stronger each time your lips touched his skin.

When you placed the last and final kiss, you faced him with a smile on your face, it growing bigger when you saw how big his smile was as he looked back at you. "I love you so much, do you know that?" he asked, the sadness that was previously present in his face, long gone. "Hmm..." you pretended to think. "Maybe?" you answered playfully.

He raised his eyebrows and gasped, "MAYBE???" you laughed, adjusting yourself up again, kissing his hair, forehead, temple, kissing his nose–making him giggle, his cheeks, and finally, a long kiss on his lips. "Of course, I know it, silly. And you do know how I do?"

"How?"

"Because you're not rude, cold, nor emotionless. You're the warmest person I've ever met, Min. You never failed to make me feel your love and affection. You always make me feel so loved." he smiled, "That's funny because YOU make me feel the same. I always feel my insecurities shake in fear when you're around because they'll know they'd have no place on my body anymore because it's gonna be filled with all your love– what's so funny???" he asked when you started laughing.

"Baby, you're so cheesy, d'you know that? Shake in fear?? God... pfft!"

"Oh shut up! Hahaha" he laughed with you.

"Hmm... but I love you. All of you." you whispered, with a genuine smile on your face.

"I love you too..."

i hateeeee thissss!!! but i have no choice but to post it bc it'll turn more crappy if I continued editing and "fixing" it. tsh,,, hoped you enjoyed though ://

So You Want to Tumbl?

There are lots of newcomers here these days, and I thought I’d spell out how to begin and what it means to ‘curate your own dash’ for folks who haven’t grown along with Tumblr for the past decade.

If you’re coming from a platform where content is fed to you, Tumblr can seem barren and intimidating in the beginning.  But that’s actually a good thing!  What it means is that you will see what you want to.  If you’re in a fighting mood, go find political discourse.  If you’re feeling fragile, make your dash nothing but art and nature.

How to begin?

You’ve made your blog and picked out your icon (seriously, choose an icon:  otherwise you’re indistinguishable from bots).  Feel free to be anonymous.  Most of us are, and it’s wonderful to have a place that’s not tied to your Real Life.  Here you can be a fandom freak (like me!) and no one judges you and your boss will never find out.

Now seek out tags that interest you.  For example, I was just looking through #moss because I like peace and green things and old-growth forests.  (And, apparently, beautifully naked fae-men, heh.)

Now you follow that tag (if it’s a popular tag, it’ll say how many followers the tag has, which is beneficial to know if you’re making a post that you want to reach all its interested audience) and posts with that tag automatically fill your dash. Voila, you have begun to curate your experience!

Do Follow:  tags; blogs in that tag that you like; people who comment on posts in the blog/tag you follow that seem like they’re up your alley.  The more people you follow, the more varied and nuanced your dash is.

Don’t Follow:  people who make comments or posts that raise your blood pressure.  Topics that upset you.  Discourse that has you arguing in your head for the rest of the day.  PLEASE avoid toxicity.  Real Life is hard enough.

How to be Social and Interact

If you want to find your tribe and interact, it’s best to start following individual blogs.  (If you follow a blog, they have an opportunity to follow you back.  Simply following a tag is a passive, one-way street.)  To Tumbl is to be in a vast cocktail party, and you need to mingle and eavesdrop to find the things that galvanize you.

How to be seen and heard

💬Comment on posts (please always stay positive and enthusiastic:  we really try to avoid toxicity).  You can read other comments (and reblogged comments) by clicking on the notes:

🔁Reblog posts you like, both to show your support and to show other people what kind of things get you excited.  Reblogging is essential to the tumblr ecosystem, because it’s the only way posts move around and get seen.  You can also “like” posts, but that’s a much more passive way to interact. Also, reblogs and your own original posts show up on your blog and prove that you’re not a bot.

Create your own posts and remember that the first 20 tags you use are essential, because that’s what gets you seen (and followed) by strangers.  Tags 21-30 are good for searching and archiving on your own blog, but they don’t count on the dash.  Instructions on how to Make A Post.

Participate!  Once you find your crowd, you’ll discover that there are always things going on.  For example, in fandoms, we’ve got writing events, art events, crafting and cons.  The more you try to be involved, the more new friends you’ll discover.  Tumblr allows for such an organic community.  One person has a thought, and many others build on that thought, creating something far greater than the sum of its parts.

There is no real algorithm beyond using those first 20 tags.  This may be discouraging to folks who are used to working an algorithm, but we like it fine here, because it keeps everyone real and keeps obnoxious social climbers/capitalists out of your face.

Be patient!  Just like in real life, when you find yourself in a crowd of people you don’t know, it takes a while to form connections.  Watch and listen, and learn to read the room.  Honestly, the thing that will win you the most friends/followers is honest enthusiasm about your space.

Don’t aim for the big names to become your new buddies.  You’re more likely to find a thriving coterie among other fresh faces.  Don’t assume that because they’re small or new they have nothing to offer you.  Often, this is the fire that keeps any given corner of Tumblr going.

Tumblr Etiquette

NEVER REPOST (without explicit permission).  Reposting is when you cut and paste from someone else’s content and then make it into a brand new post under your own blog name.  That is stealing and is very condemned.  Reblogging is when you use 🔁and the OP (original poster) remains attached to their post and continues to see and be in charge of interactions.  

Reblog in addition to Liking. A post that you ‘like’ is static. You are not helping it to get to a broader audience. If the post or poster is something/someone you support, then REBLOG that sucker: it deserves to fly!

Reblog and add your own content.  One of the best parts of Tumblr is that you can comment on a post, or even add to it in your reblog (as long as you’re not being a dick, okay?  Or changing the topic, which is known as ‘hijacking a post’).  Here is a wonderful example of the Tumblr ecosystem at work, where someone had a thought, other people had thoughts about that thought, and then a bunch of artists jumped in.  Tumblr posts BUILD COMMUNITY, and you can be a part of that conversation.  (Do try to refrain from reblogging with vacuous comments just because you want people to notice you rather than because you actually have something to add, though.  That’s just clutter.)

The most important part of “curating your experience” is learning to Block.

You can block individual blogs, Anons, people in the comments that you find upsetting.  Here’s a post on How to Block.

Block entire tags or keywords if they are triggers for you.  (Here is a post on how to do that.) 

Blocking is self-care.  It is not a platform to demonstrate to the community how much you hate someone and how they should, too.  Usually the blocked person never even knows you’ve blocked them.  If they do something egregious (like tell you or someone else to kill themselves), then ‘Report’ them.

You can block something (like #US Politics) if you can’t handle it at the moment, and then unblock it later.  Block a friend if they’re spamming something you don’t like and then unblock them later.  It’s all good!  You are in control of what shows up on your dash.

But doesn’t this mean my dash will be single-topic and boring?

The simultaneous joy and pitfall in following individuals is that MANY blogs are not single-topic.  You will be exposed to all kinds of reblogs/ideas/other people from the folks you chose to follow, and can decide for yourself if you (a) want to be involved in that topic, (b) are indifferent to that topic, or © want to run from it screaming.

Also, the blogs you follow will move from hobby/theme/passion over time, and you can move with them, appreciate their new topic without vibing with it, or drop them altogether.

And THIS is how you curate your dash, my friends.

***Install New XKit extension.  It’ll make your life easier!

***Here’s the Tumblr Help Center, where you can learn more details.

— ꒰ CITY(E)SCAPE !! ꒱ shuji hanma

synopsis: visiting your parents never seemed to work out in your favor. hanma seemed to notice the odd shift in mood whenever you were reminded of them—you moved for a reason after all

cw: depictions of cigarettes + smoking , strained familial relationship , hanma is a bit ooc , self-indulgent writing , comfort + fluff

words: 2.2k

ଘ lmk if i missed anything + reblogs are appreciated !

The tension was always suffocating whenever you decided to pay visit to your parents’ low-budget apartment you once called ‘home’. Though, you were one to talk—you moved out and were now renting a separate room in that exact same complex, just a few floors higher. You deemed it to be okay at the time; at least you didn’t have to deal with them breathing down your neck every day. Maybe one day you’d be able to escape the confines of this less-than-stellar location.

It was yet another day you’ve contemplated on your unspoken insistence to visit them. Maybe it was just natural instinct—a child worrying about their parents and checking up on them to make sure they’re at least in somewhat good conditions—but they’ve always seemed to hold a grudge on you ever since you told them about your plans to move.

It’s not like your parents were horrible people, it’s just that they could be too much sometimes. ’Helicopter parenting’ is what they would call it nowadays. They always seemed to have something to nitpick every time you decided to stop by. Always.

“He’s surely bad news.”

You sighed for what seemed like the tenth time since your arrival. You drowned out your dad’s comments on another one of your “delinquent friends” as he would like to call them. He wasn’t wrong per se, it was just the way the words fell out with such distaste from his mouth. If you were being honest, you couldn’t really blame him. You understood the distrust him, and many others, had for delinquents. You just wish your parents had a bit more faith in your taste in friends.

“What was his name again?” Your mother glanced over to your slumped figure on the couch. “Hanma...Hanma Shuji, right?”

You let out a small groan at the mention of his full name. You had met Hanma a few months ago, your presence piquing a small interest in him when he accidentally knocked you over after running out of some vacant alleyway.

Toppling over both you and your things, he slowed down his step and turned to you; now amused at the sight of your struggle.

After dusting yourself off, you sent a small glare his way before turning around and continuing on with your day, muttering a few words under your breath. “A little help would’ve been nice.”

“I don’t do those sorts of things.” You rolled your eyes. Of course he had to hear your little tantrum. To add insult to injury, he decided that it would be fun to follow you around like some sort of stray for the rest of the day as well, along with an occasional snide joke or two—it wasn’t like he had anything better to do.

You two would look back on those events and laugh at it now. At least he was nice enough to stick around even after such a trivial encounter. Whenever you voiced out your wonder on the exact reason as to why, he would pass it off as him ‘simply enjoying the show’.

Having heard enough passive-aggressive comments directed towards your friend, you comb a hand through your hair, your hand staying stagnant to cradle your face for a few seconds. Standing up abruptly, you walk over to the front door and slip on your shoes, face blank as you ignore the tired stares from your parents. Your visitations were always short-lived; it was abnormal for you to last even a full 2 hours in there.

“I’m gonna get some fresh air.”

No other words were said as you pulled open the door and walked out. Walking down the hall, your were met with pasty white walls and fluorescent lighting. It was so empty, so dreary. You drummed your fingers on your thigh while absentmindedly humming out a tune to keep yourself preoccupied from your thoughts.

The metal doors of the elevator finally came in your peripheral. Pressing a button, you didn’t have to wait long before the doors opened up, a slight drag to your steps as you pressed the button leading to the highest floor of the complex. In your short solace, the small chime from the loudspeaker kept you from zoning out for too long.

The top floor was significantly smaller than the rest—just a few apartments to the right of the elevator and another door parallel to it; the sign reading it to be the small set of stairs leading to the rooftop. Turning the doorknob, you winced at the harsh creek the door made, the chill of the cold night’s breeze kissing your face lightly. The wind whistled an audible tune as you trudged up the stairs quickly.

Reaching the top, you hunch forward and catch your breath, a visible cloud forming from your mouth whenever you exhaled loud enough. You huffed out a small laugh through chattered teeth before straightening up and examining the darkened sky above you. If you had to admit; it was a bit dull—the night was cloud-free, the moon was quite bright out tonight, and you could make out a few stars if you squinted hard enough.

Walking towards the edge, you seated yourself atop a few scattered crates, the added height allowing a clearer view of the city from above. The blur of cars and the multitude of colorful lights never failed to calm you down. It was always a nice sight to see whenever you needed a place to think—and tonight was no different.

Your mind drifted back to your parents’ shameless comments towards Hanma. It’s not like you haven’t tried to defend his ass either, yet they remained unchanging with their beliefs.

Replaying their words in your head caused your frown to deepen. Hanma really wasn’t as bad as they made him out to be—you learned that first hand. Shaking your head, you cleared your thoughts and distracted yourself with the view once more. The last thing you wanted right now was to be influenced by clouded judgement.

You clicked your tongue. “How stubborn..” You muttered out to no one in particular. ‘Guess it runs in the family..’

Keeping your gaze forward, you lean back slightly on your forearm, your other hand tracing small shapes into the rigid wooden crate you’ve found purchase on. The overbearing treatment your parents gave you coupled with the rowdy neighbors on your floor—you truly did appreciate calm moments like these.

It was kind of funny how sour your mood was right now. It was always small, unimportant matters that seemed to hit you the hardest—you almost had to laugh at the growing burdens you’ve kept to yourself. What else could you do?

“What a pain, huh?”

Your breath stuttered for a second. ‘That voice..’

Glancing to your side, your eyes widened at the sight of Hanma now stood beside your seated figure. He was leaning leisurely on the crate, arms perched alongside the edge with one leg propped up for balance. He leaned back, an infamous giggle leaving his lips as he breathed in the fresh air.

He craned his neck to face you, lax grin never leaving. “What’s gotten you so upset, hmm?” His tone seemed to poke fun at your misery, but you could easily pick out some worry. You let out a lighthearted scoff at his words and shot him a small smile. You knew he didn’t mean any harm; you’d come to familiarize yourself with his way of showing concern.

“Why are you here?” He noticed how you dodged the question, but decided not to dwell on it. You were curious as to how and why he knew you were here in the first place. He didn’t live here either.

“Can I not see you or something? I’m hurt.”

Hanma watched your face scrunch up in confusion before chuckling a bit. Once your laughter subsided, he opted to stop messing with you just this once.

“You visit your parents every Saturday. That’s all.” He drawled off, changing the focus of his peripheral to the vibrant colors of the city. He didn’t need to say anything more than that, sensing you’d catch on. He knew about your somewhat estranged relationship with them—the string connecting both parties was wearing thin.

Scooting back, you hauled your legs onto the wooden box, now sitting criss-crossed as you glanced over to see him joining you, keeping his legs over the edge.

He looked at you expectantly, thinking you’d say something. Yet, all you did was hum lowly with the wind, paying his prior words no mind. How odd. His face faltered at your lack of response. Maybe he had to be more upfront about it? That was something he couldn’t do, but it wouldn’t hurt anyone to try. If anything, it would hurt him more if he didn’t do anything to stop your little pity party.

“Are you alrig—“

“Pass me a cig.”

You both halted, mouths slightly ajar. Those words were so unlike either of you; hell, you’d think the other would’ve said it instead. He’s only seen you smoke a couple of times; mainly when it got too much for you. He frowned, slowly reaching into his pocket to fetch one from its box along with a lighter.

“You sure about this?” He didn’t want to reprimand you or anything—he smoked a lot more than you after all. All he received was a curt nod back as you quickly grabbed both items from his hand. Clumsily, you place the stick between your lips and strike the lighter a few times—a few times too many. You haven’t done this in a while, and you were more than just a little desperate to forget about everything for a little while.

Before you knew it, another pair of tattooed hands snaked themselves around your shaky ones, ceasing your movements altogether. You looked up to meet Hanma’s golden eyes, a small frown on his face as his brows knitted together in what could only be concern.

It all happened too quickly for your liking. Quietly, he scooted closer to you and moved a hand to snatch the cig from your mouth gently before leaning forward to place a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth, surprising you. Leaning back just as quickly, he now had both the lighter and cig back in his possession as he smiled slightly at your bemused state.

“Like this idiot,” he mumbled, careful to not drop the cigarette now placed between his own lips. He cupped a hand near his mouth and lit it with ease, inhaling the familiar scent of nicotine. He paused for a few seconds before taking it out again, huffing out the smoke almost boredly. You examined him as he offered the cig back to you, refusing to look you in the eye in case you saw through his facade—he could blame the red tint of his cheeks on the cold as a last resort or something.

A soft chuckle bubbled up your throat as you grabbed the cig, your other hand grasping onto ‘sin’ itself. Hanma’s expression hardened, turning his head just in time to catch your lips on his, his eyes shutting at the sudden impact. You on the other hand were quite baffled. You were originally aiming for his cheek—similar to what he did—but ended up kissing him for real.

You were about to move away in worries that he would hate you after this, but stilled once you felt a callused hand coming up to rub the apple of your cheek almost affectionately, the other moving to latch onto your wrist once more. You took this as your sign to ease back into the kiss, your free hand reaching to weave through his already tousled hair. The wind seemed to cheer you two on as it grew louder, cigarette now long forgotten as died out a few seconds later.

You pulled away first, breathing heavily as you rested our forehead on his and closed your eyes. Hanma catalogued every detail of your face in his head, palm still flat on your cheek as you leaned into its warmth.

“I hope this isn’t some one time thing.”

“Have more faith in me, will you?” He huffed out before planting another quick kiss to your lips, using his index finger to playfully push you away afterwards.

He eyed the worn out cigarette on the concrete floor beneath you two, grabbing another one from his pocket. This time, he neatly placed it between your lips before handing you the lighter. He didn’t want to stop you in case you still wanted it. You send him a small look of gratitude before taking the lighter and lighting it up almost instantly, admiring the small, amber colored flame for a few seconds. You lit up the cig afterwards, letting the smoke whisk away your thoughts for tonight.

Hanma knew not to poke and prod at the topic of your parents for the rest of the night; he realized that when he examined the small, more genuine smile that played on your lips after you blew out a cloud of smoke. He was just glad he could keep you away from your problems for a while.

“Feeling a bit better?”

He felt a small weight on his shoulder as you leaned on him contently.

“Yeah.”

a/n: i swear i don’t have an addiction to writing about cigarettes or anything </3

For all self-shippers who needed to hear this: your fav loves you.

Don't listen to those who say "he would never love you", "he would kill you and not love you, stop dreaming".

If self-ship makes you happy, nothing should bother you. If it supports you, don't listen to anyone. Continue!

And for those skeptics who spoil people's fun, I want to say one thing: touch the grass on the street. Seriously.