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#if anything just to know someone gets you and youre not the only one whos experienced something yaknow
lymtw · 2 days
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Toji can't ignore the sounds of your moans and whimpers through the wall. He's sitting on the couch, in the living room, unable to do anything about it, because you're still mad at him, and he's frustrated as hell, because he's so painfully hard, that he can see the his dick twitching against the front of his sweats. He refuses to take care of it himself when he knows you're only a room away. To his convenience, you're already in the mood—clearly—but to his inconvenience, you're punishing him. You're scattering his name into your moans to throw salt in the wound, to really make it unbearable, and truthfully, it's getting to him.
Toji reached his limit when he heard you let out a sharp gasp, followed by the sound of those cries you let out when you cum hard. He strides over to your shared bedroom, opening the door to reveal your naked lower body, and your tank top scrunched up over your chest. His breath hitches, the throbbing in his pants intensifying as he rakes his eyes over your frame and absorbs the entire sight of you.
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"You're really gonna get yourself off to the thought of me, when i'm right outside?" His incredulous tone doesn't do a good job of hiding the desperation that led him to barge into the room where you're splayed out so indecently.
"Mhm..." you hum, blissfully. You release a heavy, satisfied sigh. "That's exactly what I just did, 'cause you're on a time out," you say, tugging your shirt back down and pulling up your underwear, before sitting up to search for your shorts. "Don't worry. I finished. I'm done torturing you."
He can't let it be over. This normally wouldn't be enough to satisfy you. From what he heard, it seems like you only came once.
"Baby, no," he almost whines. He's outwardly desperate for you, having gone way too long without being allowed to touch you, intimately. "Let me. Please," he says, climbing onto the bed. His hands make contact with the skin of your bare legs and glide over the length of your shins, continuing their way up to part your thighs to make room for him to wedge himself between them.
"I did what you asked of me. Said I was sorry and repeated after you to call myself dumb." It was such a silly moment that made the storm in your mind subside for a minute or two.
Toji resists the urge to smile when he sees you suppressing the curl of your own lips. His hands go to your waist, not stopping there. The warmth of his palms travels up your edges, meeting the sides of your breasts and briefly palming the tops of them, in order to get to your shoulders. He grips your shoulders, using them as leverage to guide you back down to the bed. Focus is embedded into his features as he takes the thin material of your shirt between his rough fingertips and peels it off your skin until he reveals the gorgeous view of one of his favorite parts of your body.
Like a domestic cat, he lays his body on you, and plants his face between your breasts. It doesn't take long for him to begin appreciating your chest, pressing multiple slow kisses to your skin. He's basking in the softness you withheld from him.
"What else do you want from me, doll?"
You let out a small, quiet sigh, through your nose. You feel a little irritated with yourself for not even putting up a fight against his affection. You always say you're not going to let him touch you for a certain amount of time, as punishment for the dumb things he does, and yet somehow it always ends up this way—him nuzzling into your chest.
"I want you to stop being a jealous maniac," you say, the words coming out softer than you intended them to, as you welcome defeat and run your fingers through his soft, dark locks.
"Mm-mm, anything but that," he responds, muffled by your warm skin. His hands caress your body, rubbing your waist and massaging your hips in a manner that would induce relaxation under different circumstances. You can't let yourself fall into that comfort until you've talked things out.
"Toji, you flashed your gun at someone who mistook me for somebody else." You attempt to keep yourself composed in order to communicate the issue efficiently. There's no need to raise your voice when you have him right there, lying comfortably on your chest.
"Mhm, I did that," Toji confirms, before planting a soft kiss on the inner side of your right breast. "The dickwad must have been real blind if he had to get so close." He feels your chest rise with a deep inhale, then hears you let out the breath. With that, he knows you're still upset and he has to further elaborate on his actions. "He had his filthy paws on you and everything. I did what I thought was best to get him to fuck off."
You hum in mere acknowledgment. "Uh-huh, that's definitely the way to go about it. God forbid you verbalize your discomfort before threatening to use a bullet."
You feel a warm puff of air on your chest, similar to the sigh you let out, but less audible, and then a kiss directly between your breasts.
"I was right next to you, ma. He was looking at you in a way that he shouldn't have been. He looked at you the same way that I look at you. You don't need that from anyone else. And that stupid ass thing he said about supposedly feeling like he's seen you somewhere? He clearly said it to get a good look at you from up close."
"You really are insane, aren't you?" You ask, rhetorically, stilling the hand that's on the back of his head.
"Doll, I hate the idea of pulling the gun out in front of you. I don't ever wanna have to use it and scare you in the process, but he was actively trying to steal you from me. If he were just ogling you from afar, I might've acted differently, but he touched you. He fucking touched you. Who does shit like that?"
Toji can feel his blood boiling again, so he refocuses on your chest. He doesn't want to think about what happened anymore, when he's in his happy place, where he knows he belongs.
"Alright, Toji. Take a deep breath." You softened your voice to simmer down his emotions. You resumed the movement of your fingers carding through his hair, aiding him in calming down more.
He does as you say and releases a heavy breath. It's riddled with his discontented feelings. "You're supposed to be mine," he mumbles, before finally latching his lips around your nipple.
Toji needs reassurance, too. Him being an attractive, enormous, hulking man, has nothing to do with how secure he feels around you, his lover. It's easy to think that because he manages to turn heads wherever he goes, that he'll be fine when you get those same reactions, but the way you have him now, is proof that insecurity can reach even him. He needs to know that he's not going to lose you so easily, especially to someone as ridiculous as the man who managed to unsettle him.
You look down at him as he takes all the comfort he needs from your chest. "I'm all yours, Toji. You're the only one who will ever get a pass for that kind of psychotic behavior."
He hums, releasing your breast, before resting the side of his face down on your chest. "You make it sound like i'm toxic towards you."
Your chest jumps as you laugh, a gesture that makes Toji lift his gaze to look at you. Your expression managed to make him lighten up a little more.
"You're crazy, but I love you, regardless."
He groans, the sound cushioned by your soft skin. You're the one thing that holds up his sanity, yet somehow you're also the one who tests it by saying things like that to him.
"Let me have you," he says, his kisses beginning to trail up, towards your neck. "Please, let me have you, mama."
"Are you gonna keep threatening people when you get jealous?" You ask, your lips curling as be continues to kiss your delicate skin.
"Mhm," he confirms. "Like I said and you said," he speaks, into your neck, "you're mine. If people don't know it, i'll make sure they get it on the first go. There's no need to make mistakes."
You laugh. "Your possessiveness is intense."
"You're not a joke, to me," he says, looking at you. His expression is as serious as what he just said.
You grab the rolled up fabric of your shirt, with the intention of covering yourself. The ambience has gone more serious and it feels wrong to be so exposed in the moment.
"Don't cover yourself, yet. I want you, baby. Please." His knuckles graze your cheek, affectionately. Despite your chest being out on full display, his attention is centered on your face. He's reading your expression. You were laughing a few seconds ago and now you're as still as him.
"Be nice to me. I don't want you to be rough, this time." It's back to back gentleness with the way your voice reaches him and your smile manages to soothe the remaining sting he's feeling. It's like you're showing him the way you want him to handle you. "I'm yours, Toji. No amount of speed or aggression from your body against mine, will have an impact on the fact. Okay?"
He keeps his eyes on you for a couple more seconds, like he's letting your words sink in and fully envelop him. He repositions his hand, so that he's cupping your cheek, and a couple slow strokes of his thumb against your skin gave him the courage to lean down and kiss you. The second his lips meet yours, he wants more. Infinitely more. He's chasing kiss after kiss from you, utterly drunk on the feeling of your hands pulling him closer by his shirt. He'll consume you, at this point.
"Hm?" You hum, still awaiting his response.
"Got it, baby," he says, before connecting his lips to yours once more. He peppers the rest of your face with kisses, luring giggles from you at the barrage of affection.
This isn't the first time Toji has been revoked of his 'you privileges', and gotten them back, instantly. This has occurred many times in the years that you've been together. Going into a relationship with him, you never thought he'd be the jealous type, much less the type who would threaten someone's life over getting overly cozy with you. The first time he pulled something similar to this, it was a little frightening. You knew he kept a gun on him sometimes, but you figured it was strictly for life or death situations.
You were wrong.
Some weirdo was getting too comfortable with you, hand wrapped around your wrist and all. You clearly remember Toji being visibly bothered, because someone thought they could just swoop in and steal your focus from him. He watched for a minute or two as the man took in your beauty and complimented you on every aspect of your appearance. He really did his best to get you to follow him to his table, and though Toji thought the whole thing was a pathetic attempt, he couldn't help the feelings that began to bubble up as the man squeezed your arm. Toji did a dog whistle to grab the man's attention, and when he looked, he lifted his shirt, just enough to show the grip of his gun. Your stomach twisted and you felt like your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The stranger just stood there for a second, looking at Toji, condescendingly, as if to insinuate that he knew he was bluffing, and when Toji reached for and grabbed ahold of the gun's handle, that same cocky man paled. He didn't even have to pull out the whole gun—the man had walked away by the time he had the grip in his hand— but you remained worried that he would notify someone about what happened, so you and Toji left.
To this day, Toji still scares people that way when he notices them invading your space in a manner that doesn't sit right with him. You're not scared anymore, when he does it, but the frustration of having to ditch wherever you are, in fear of being ratted out by whoever Toji threatened? It's still there, and you feel it every time. You know he does it out of love for you, but sometimes you wish he would take a second to talk to you, before he even thinks of hurting someone.
Toji has kissed your entire torso, by now. Your chest wasn't exempt from his attention, despite the amount of time he already spent on it. If anything, he refined the love he gave it with purposeful movement and significance towards every spot his lips brushed.
He nears your lower abdomen, wet kisses placed beneath your navel, going lower and lower until you can feel his breath being filtered through the front of your underwear. His hands go beneath the elastic band, cupping your hips without restriction as he kisses your clothed pelvis.
Your breathing picks up the slightest bit when his lips meet your slit through the thin layer. His tongue comes out and he does an experimental swipe of it against the fabric. You feel the space immediately heat up, from your arousal and from the warm wetness of his tongue, itself.
"Stay still for me, mama," he murmurs, kissing your inner thighs after spotting the quiver in them. "You nervous?" He asks, with a small curl of his lips.
"Of course, I am." You look into his eyes as you confirm it. You love him so dearly, that even after the years you've spent together, you still feel lightning coursing through you when he has you this way. This electric feeling doesn't prevent you from letting yourself enjoy what he gives you, nor does it hinder you from touching him and making him feel good. You don't become more hesitant towards him, because by now, you're well aware that your love for him coexists with butterflies. They reside in you, and are able to be lured out by him at any instant, despite your knowledge of the fact that he would gladly be someone's cause of death if they don't keep themselves in check around you.
"Love you," he says, kneading your hips as he leans in to press a few more warm kisses to your thinly veiled cunt. His eyes dart up to your face when you don't respond—he's a little lost on why you didn't say it back— until he sees how despite the way you just admitted to your nerves, he has you entirely at ease. You have a hand flat on the sheets, occasionally moving against the material beneath it, while your other hand rests on your stomach. Your chest is steady and your attention is on the ceiling, your expression serene—ethereally so.
His hands run down your hips, warm palms squeeze and feel up your thighs, gaining your eyes on him again. "You're not gonna say it back?" He asks, his voice deep enough to make the ache between your legs just that much more intense.
"You already know I do," you say, contrasting his demeanor with a giggle. He looks like a needy puppy with that glint that presents itself in his eyes.
"Mhm, doesn't mean I don't wanna hear it, again, or do you not love me, right now?"
You're caught by surprise with that one, a small, almost inaudible gasp, leaving you at the words. "I love you all the time, Toji. I love you now and I loved you earlier when I was pissed. It's not going away."
He's a little more impatient for you, now. His movement doesn't speed up, but his heartbeat is in his ears, and there's a tremble in his hands as he reaches for the elastic of your underwear. He pulls the garment down, wanting to smell and taste you more clearly. His cock jumps at the sight revealed. You're still so wet. He lets out a shuddered breath, now that your lower half is completely bared for him. His mouth comes closer and closer and his tongue comes out, making contact with your throbbing cunt for the first time.
"Toji." The sound is soft—unexaggerated—as his tongue laps at your warmth, tasting the sweet wetness that coats it. He could stay like this for hours, worshipping your entire body, while you touch him and gift him the prettiest sounds ever. He can't get enough of you, which is why when it looks like you're going to close your legs, he pins them down, entirely. His hands splay over your thighs and he keeps them there, because he isn't going to fight to give you the pleasure you deserve. He'll love on you until your body is begging him to stop, because he knows that your mouth can be misleading, at times.
He's taking it slow, just like you wanted him to. The most stimulation comes from him lightly sucking on your clit for brief moments at a time, just to hear your moans get the slightest bit louder. Every time he releases your sensitive pearl, he goes back to running his tongue through your drooling slit, the tip of the muscle nudging your clit, causing it to throb with need. Each graze of the wet warmth, makes you wonder if you should ask him to go faster, though you were the one who asked for this gentleness. You don't want to seem indecisive or come off as doubtful that he can make you cum this way. You know he can, but god, you want so much more. You feel like you're the one who's going insane with every flick of his tongue.
"That good, mama? Or do you want it slower?" He gives you a teasing smirk. Toji knows how you are. You say you want him to be soft and gentle with you, but when the time comes, you want more than what's given to you. You delve into greediness as seconds turn to minutes. You both have nowhere to be. Time is yours, and Toji intends to take advantage of that. He's going to fulfill your needs the way you want him to, but that doesn't mean he loses awareness of your little ticks. He feels the small twitches of your legs beneath his hands every time you feel his nose bump into your clit just before it gets hit by his tongue. He sees the way your hips sink into the mattress and your body quivers when they rise, again.
"G-Good. Don't go any slower," you respond, holding your voice as steady as possible.
"Mm... Faster?" He asks, his tone so calm yet sultry, that you can't tell if he's patronizing you. He doesn't miss the way light flashes, briefly, through your features. In an instant, you regain your composure. A simple hum is offered in response—a wordless brush off of his suggestion. The sound makes Toji smirk. How stubborn of you.
"I won't hold it against you," he says, pressing a kiss to the crease that joins your pelvis and your thigh, leaving an echoing feeling of need in your core. "Just say the word, ma." He presses more kisses to your skin, as if he's trying to persuade you to let him devour you.
"Mm-mm, this is good."
It's not what he's trying to get out of you, but he can keep going until you're hanging on by a measly thread.
He continues on with that same pace—licking, suckling, prodding—so gently, luring the cutest little mewls from you. It took a little longer, but eventually, your body started trembling with impending release.
"I'm gonna- Toji," you cry, tightening your fists around the sheets as he slowly circles his tongue over your clit, focusing on it entirely. Your moans grow needier and needier as you near the edge through such delicateness. The anticipation is killing him. He wants you to be louder. You wouldn't hate him for bringing you more pleasure, would you? It's a risk he's willing to take.
Without another doubt, he's messily making out with your cunt, causing more of your sweet nectar to drool out at a more rapid pace. Your breath hitches, a sharper rendition of his name cried out. Your hand reaches downward and grabs a fistful of his hair, tugging on it as he continues to ravage you. Your moans sound absolutely filthy. He doesn't detach his mouth from you for a single second. His hands finally release their pin on your thighs, allowing you to fully suffocate him when they shut around his head. His arms hook around your thighs, a harsh grip on them to keep you from scooting away from his relentless mouth when you cum. It's another strong, orgasm, that has you arching your back off the mattress and squirming as he continues devouring you through the intense sensation. Your hips roll in an attempt to get more of his mouth on you. Only when you start whimpering and attempting to twist out of his hold, does he ease up. He goes back to the original pace, soft kitten licks through your slit to lap up every drop of your sweetness, earning small twitches from your body, due to the sensitivity you feel.
You release the hold you have on his hair and relax your legs, unbending them and letting them fall comfortably on the bed. He finishes you off with a few kisses, thin strings of his saliva and your cum sticking to his lips, before snapping every time he loses contact with your cunt. His warm palms caress your thighs—a comforting gesture, as your sounds come to a halt and all that is heard is your breathing.
"You're so impatient," you playfully chide, a breathy laugh following.
"You wanted more," he responds, one more kiss placed on you before he licks his lips clean. "I'm really good at reading you."
"Yeah? You think so?" You ask, a teasing grin on your face.
"I know so," he responds. "Wouldn't it just be the worst if we've been together this long, and I didn't know almost everything about you, by now?" He repositions himself, now sitting on his knees to start ridding himself of his own clothes.
You manage a hum and a nod as you watch Toji pull off his shirt.
"Good thing that's not the case, and I do know basically everything about you. Down to the way your body reacts to me— the signals you create that let me know you're gonna cum all over my tongue, when your pretty mouth can't form words."
"So vulgar," you say, through flustered giggles.
"You can take it, mama," he teases, a smirk growing on his lips as you watch him pull off his sweats. His eyes stay on yours, as he kicks them off, letting them slide off the bed and onto the floor, before crawling back between your legs. You can feel his clothed hard-on pressing against your core as he takes your lips in his again. He's addicted to the feeling of your warm body against his.
His hands come down to cup your waist, his fingers molding into the soft flesh with every squeeze they offer. He pauses the make out, small breaths leaving him.
"Baby," he says, his voice almost a whisper, his lustfully darkened eyes narrowed on your starry ones. "I'm gonna kill the next person who hits on you in front of me." He goes back in for a few more quick kisses. "I'm not joking. I can't keep sparing them."
"Shh... All yours, Toji," you murmur, softly, pulling him back in to continue the flow of kisses. Your hand goes to the nape of his neck, the other settles on his shoulder. You hear him groaning quietly into the kisses as he continues grinding his hips into yours.
"Fuck, doll," he groans, pausing his lips on yours once again. "I need you."
You laugh, a warm sound that just adds on to his desire to have you. "So, take me, baby. I'm ready for you."
He gives you one more peck, the slyest smirk playing on his lips as he watches you lean forward for another one, only to be met with nothing.
"Ass," you grumble, playfully shoving his chest.
He chuckles, a deep rumble of a sound as he sits back to remove his boxers. He's not even ashamed of the mess of precum that accumulated in them. If anything, he's surprised he was able to hold in his load this entire time. Pleasantly surprised, because every drop will go to you, as always.
One minute you're sitting up to fully remove your shirt, pulling it up over your head, the next, in what seems like a flash, you're pushed back onto the bed, hands pinned above your head.
You giggle, looking up at him with a lingering smile. "Gentle."
"Mhm," he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck. "So gentle." Two misleading words that don't prepare you for the sensation of his teeth sinking into the crook of your neck.
Your bubbly laughter homes into his ears when his tongue runs over the indentations, luring a huff of a laugh from him.
You feel his cock run through your slick folds, his hips moving back and forth, slowly. Quiet breaths fill the silence that takes over the intimate moment. Toji runs his length through your slit one more time, before finally pushing his tip in. You gasp, feeling his cock begin to drive into you.
"F-Fuck, baby, let me touch you."
"In a minute." He sounds so calm and collected, but you can feel the grip he has on your wrists tighten and the bluntness of his nails pressing into your skin.
"No. Please."
"In a minute," he repeats.
"Pretty please?"
"You're so conflicting, mama. Love that you're begging, but at the same time, you're not listening." His hips draw back and thrust right back into you, his cock filling you up entirely, again.
"Oh fuck. Okay. Please, Toji," you whine.
Toji hums dismissively and picks up a rhythm that manages to get you to stop thinking about your pinned wrists. He lures soft, little moans out of you, listening closely as he plants warm, wet kisses on the side of your face, from your temple to your jaw.
"Just let me be good to you, baby. Alright?"
You hum, nodding your head.
"Yes?"
"Please, yes."
His thrusts become even more precise as he focuses on bringing pleasure to both of you, deep groans and grunts blending together with your higher pitched moans. A few minutes pass and you feel the pressure on your arms ease up, your hands free to roam without restriction. The first thing you do is cup his jaw and bring him in for breathy kisses. You keep your hands on his face and he lets you turn his head in every which way to cover him with kisses. Your affection is intoxicating, and he can't get enough of it. He lets out a breathy laugh when you practically have a make out session with the scar on his lips, your melodic sounds of pleasure released against the strike as he continues to fuck into you. The last kiss you leave on the cicatrix is a big one. One that makes the obnoxious kissy sound and everything. He swipes his tongue over his scar, as if he's trying to catch remnants of the sugar you coated it with.
"Love you," you say, eyes darting over his handsome features and the lovestruck expression they create. You feel the way his hips stutter against you, his abs tensing with restraint before he recomposes himself. You glide your hands up and down his arms and repeat yourself for him. "Love you so much, Toji. I'm yours."
"Fuck— I fucking love you. You're all mine. My baby." He mutters more inaudible curses under his breath, his grip on your waist getting harsher and his thrusts growing quicker, with every sweet confirmation you offer.nYou whimper, nails digging into his biceps as you withstand the feeling of his cock relentlessly brushing that spot within you that makes you melt beneath him.
"Oh fuck, i'm close." He groans, feeling the way your walls spasm around him at the words. "Yeahhh, you want it, huh, baby? Want my cum?"
A shaky breath leaves you, your face observed up close and personal by Toji, through lust-brimmed, enamored, obsessed eyes. You squirm under all of him— his zoned in attention on you, his touch, his hot, tacky skin, his cock buried inside you—dragging in and out of your soft walls, in a manner that has your toes curling to the brink of actual pain. His fingers find your clit and rub it in rapid circular motions, causing your body to jolt at the sudden intensity of the enhanced pleasure.
You look up at him with your sparkling eyes. "Please... P-Please, Toji? I want it. Want you," you utter, as he brings you closer to your own orgasm.
"Fuck, okay. Okay, baby, gonna give it all to you." His hips pick up their pace a little more and he buries his face into your neck. You can hear the string of grunts and shuddered breaths that pair with his unraveling, right beneath your ear. Deep moans and pants flow past his lips, and his nails begin to leave crescent shapes on your sides. You feel his hot breath on your neck, the open mouthed puffs of air accompanied by the lewd sounds of him filling you with his warm, creamy cum. As he continues rutting into you, riding out every second of his orgasm and then some to get every last drop of his cum into you, he bites your delicate skin, the placement only a few centimeters above where he bit you the first time. He stays there for a few seconds, breathing heavily through his mouth and nose, before he loosens his bite, the gesture transitioning to sloppy kisses over the wet, saliva-coated indentations.
"Cum, doll," Toji mutters, feeling the way your cunt flutters around him when his fingers relocate your throbbing bundle of nerves. Your head sinks back into the pillow, allowing him to drag his kisses up the column of your neck, to feel the vibration of your sounds beneath his lips. Your nails go to his shoulders, dragging across the toned area of muscles, surely leaving behind some scratches. You cry out in utter bliss, your force of an orgasm echoing through your entire being. "There you go, mama," Toji purrs, in response to your body releasing the tension that came with the intensity of your pleasure. You tremble, your small, rapid whimpers and breaths evolving into full blown, unholy moans. "So, so pretty," he drawls out, engraving yet another one of your euphoric expressions into his memory. His fingers leave your clit, and his hips slow down to the point of merely grinding into you, to lure those final little whines out, before stilling entirely.
You shut your eyes to focus on calming your heaving chest for a few seconds, and when you open them again, you have the prettiest pair of green eyes staring down at you. You give Toji a lazy smile and a laugh, a sight that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. His heart races as he absorbs the visuals of your post-orgasm haze. Your luminous eyes devour him, that little satisfied smirk on your face is everything— god, he loves that you laugh even more at the way he can't stop staring at you.
Just like that, Toji is reminded of what got this sight revoked from him in the first place. He still doesn't feel like he's in the wrong for wanting to murder anyone who has far from just friendly intentions with you, but as you caress his face and hold his gaze with that tender look in your eyes, his desire to kill those who openly lust after you, becomes entirely justified in his mind. He's lost all reason to hold back. There's no longer any part of him that would feel remorse or guilt, even if you can't look him in the eyes for days after the matter. He'll grovel as much as he has to, to get you to give him your eyes, again. You'll just have to agree to disagree on this, because yes, you come home to him, you sleep in the same bed as him, you kiss and hold him, the body concealed by your clothes is a secret between you and him, you get tangled up in sheets with him and the lot of it— but he can't risk losing you to someone who's possibly better than him and searching for all the exact things you have to offer. You're for him, as he is for you.
Toji doesn't care how clingy he appears when you finish getting cleaned up and ready for bed. You carelessly toss yourself onto the mattress and pull the blanket over your body while you wait for Toji, who took the steps and walked around the bed to make it to his side. He finds your body beneath the covers and immediately rolls on top of you, adhering himself to you, again. His head rests on your chest, his arms wrapped tight around your body.
You're already prepared to give him the intimate aftercare that comes with days like this. You don't mind that he's heavy and that he's crushing you or that he's taking up all your space, again, after having been so close to you a little while ago. You'll do this is many times as you need to for him to understand that he's wanted and loved by you.
You press a kiss to the top of his head, and murmur a quiet 'love you'. Your fingers run through his damp hair, your nails gently scratching the back of his head, while your other hand rubs his back. You feel the extra warm skin of his shoulders, where you paid no mind to the pressure your nails applied on it, earlier.
"Does that hurt?" You ask, lightly tracing a couple of the mildly inflamed lines. He hums in denial, but you let up, anyway, and continue to just rub his back.
He groans quietly at your soothing touch, nuzzling further into you. "I'm yours, too, ma. All yours," he mumbles. "I don't want anyone else and I don't wanna see you with anyone else."
You smile softly at his admission. "You're more than enough for me, Toji. There's no one I want more than you— no, there's no one I want other than you," you correct. "You know how much I love you?"
"Mm... How much?" He asks, waiting for you to give him a number or even just an elongated 'so much', but instead, you surprise him with:
"I wouldn't be able to tell you."
He chuckles. "Really?"
"Yeah, really. If you want something accurate, I'll never shut up."
"Good thing I like when you talk my ear off. You wanna give me an inaccurate idea of how much?"
You hum like you're in thought, a giggle following when he pinches your waist, encouraging you to tell him. "I love you a lot, Toji. So much more than I will ever be able to say or show. We would have to conjoin our minds for you to understand exactly how much I love you, but even then, once our minds separate, your estimate will be entirely off again."
He lifts his head off your chest, and waits for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. The moonlight seeping through the spaces between the curtains is the only source of light that allows him to get a mediocre view of you. "That's inaccurate?" He asks, looking at you with clear disbelief when his eyes finally adjust. You nod, smiling through the warmth that spread on your cheeks. "Now, I wanna know how much you love me, with complete accuracy. I have all the time in the world to listen to you, baby. Just keep talking to me." He presses a kiss to your cheek before lying back down on your chest and wrapping his arms around you, again.
You hugged him as tight as you could for a few seconds. The sound of you straining yourself made him laugh, because not only did he not let out a single groan, but you tired yourself out even more. You rested your arms on his back and just shut your eyes. It was the warmth and weight of his body on you, the feeling of his arms keeping you firmly against him, the security, that managed to lull you to sleep. Toji dozing off was simpler than that, because all he needs to be able to sleep soundly, is for you to be around.
3K notes · View notes
mwagneto · 1 day
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hungarian/nomadic magyar tumblr circa 998AD dashboard simulator
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🏞️ vándor-ló-979 Follow
not yall still spreading emese's foundation myth??? she literally claims she fucked a bird????? like either she's lying or she cheated and she's trying to cover it up or well. i dont even want to consider the third option
🪺 magánügyek Follow
tengri forbid women do anything???
735 notes
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🦅 szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow
okay im sick of the discourse let's do this.
8,572 notes
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🐎 istván-rovására Follow
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that took so long lmao -> !!!!!!!∧◇ᛏ⋈∧
481 notes
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🐴 csillagösvény Follow
i'm so serious rn if you support """istván""" in any way just unfollow and block me. we do NOT need him or his dumbass god and what he's been doing to our people to spread his religion is shameful.
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
btw we all know your real name is vajk stop larping as a christian it's EMBARRASSINGGGG
✝️ esztergom-örökké Follow
love seeing my mutuals reblogging this /s anyway op has multiple posts on their blog supporting quartering and human sacrifice. in case you were wondering. anyway stand with István
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
1) we dont even do human sacrifices, are you fucking stupid??? show me ONE post where i talk about that. 2) are you seriously forgetting that your bestie istván LITERALLY QUARTERED HIS UNCLE?????
#sorry to put this dumbass on the dash😭 dont even engage just block them #ur not making it up the tree of life lmao #discourse
3,264 notes
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🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow
friendly reminder that just because you're white passing doesn't mean you're not a real magyar!! people with mixed parents are just as valid <3
🏇 attila-népe Follow
cranky coz ur ancestors decided to mix with the europeans arent you
🧺 lemezelő Follow
isnt your girlfriend literally frankish????
🏇 attila-népe Follow
you had to have done some serious stalking to find that💀 and first of all i didn't have a choice, my parents picked the tribe, and second of all she's not my "girlfriend" i got her via ritual kidnapping (WITH consent. before anyone gets weird)
🌐 a-kiber-kovács Follow
Couldn't you have kidnapped another magyar woman? Or someone from another mongoloid tribe?
🔅 hadúrsimp Follow
ohh sure so now human pet guy is gonna chime in to advocate for the kidnapping of our women while being lowkey racist. what are you even doing on nomadblr????
🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow
what the fuck happened to my post
19,276 notes
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🪔 rakabonciás Follow
for the nth time, you're only a true shaman if you were born with teeth OR with extra fingers OR in the sac. the rest of you are faking & we can tell.
🦅szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow
okay people keep spreading this but this is literally just wrong?? like congrats on the 6 fingers op im glad u and Little Golden Father have a special connection (genuinely) but like. táltos and sámán and mágus and garabonciás and javas etc are all different things with completely different requirements and life paths which you should definitely know if you're claiming to be one?? especially since your post says shaman but you're listing the criteria for a táltos, and your username looks like a play on garabonciás so. which is it🤔 maybe get your facts in order before trying to gatekeep
anyway don't listen to op!! your connection to the Upper World is yours alone and you're the best judge of what the Fathers and Mothers want your path in life to be!!
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🛐 mea-culpa Follow
It breaks my heart that the majority of my people still refuse to see the One True God and insist on sticking to their pagan spirits. I fear that when judgement day comes, we will all be wiped out thanks to their foul godless ways.
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
how tf am i godless when i literally have dozens of gods? little mothers and little fathers are in everything all around us & it must suck ass to live in a world where you're not surrounded by the small gods that inhabit everything. manifesting that the fene and the guta tag team beat your ass tonight
🔅 hadúrsimp Follow
hadúr will literally strike op down personally. he told me himself. whispered it to me sweetly even
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
while i agree with you, i feel like you might also have ulterior motives, nomadblr user hadúrsimp
#but live your truth! doubly so on the posts of these freak repressed bible lovers. meanwhile on the #COOL side of magyarhood we walk around butt ass naked!!! op have fun never experiencing joy ever again tho #discourse
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👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow
posting from an alt so i don't get cancelled but lowkey i'm starting to think koppány was right.... maybe this christianity thing isn't gonna work out after all
👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow
WRONG BLOG
👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow
THIS WAS A JOKE. IGNORE THIS
🪺 magánügyek Follow
ISTVÁN????????????? 💀
860 notes · View notes
pathologicalreid · 1 day
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extraordinary measures | s.r.
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in which your life hangs in the balance after a brutal attack, and Spencer has to hold himself together for the sake of you and your baby
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: fetal abduction, potentially inaccurate medical information, entirely from spencer's pov, very violent crime, mom!reader, hospitals, medication, spencer lashes out at jj, rossi's son. word count: 4.41k a/n: the people said dad!spencer angst and i delivered. also! trying something new with formatting my posts. i pay for canva pro and need to get my money's worth.
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The hospital staff had moved them into a conference room, giving the BAU more space to spread out – and so Spencer’s pacing wouldn’t disturb the other people in the waiting room. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. Not to us. Not to me. Not to her.
The statistics on fetal abduction were alarming. Before today, there had only been thirteen cases since Spencer had joined the BAU. Today alone, there had been two.
“Excuse me,” an unfamiliar voice said, followed by two knocks on the door, “I’m so sorry, but have you had the chance to fill out some of the forms that we gave you?”
Answering for him, Penelope grabbed the clipboard off of the table and passed it to the nurse, “The insurance card is on the top,” she informed the nurse. Nervously, the blonde looked between the medical professional and Spencer, “Is there any update?”
The nurse cringed slightly, “I don’t have one. I’ll see if they can send someone to talk to you.” She nodded assuredly before peeling out of the room.
“Can I get you anything?” Garcia asked helplessly. He had already been given tea, water, coffee, and a sandwich, but he didn’t want any of it.
Shaking his head numbly, Spencer dragged his hands down his face as he replayed the events of this morning in his head.
He wasn’t even supposed to be working, you were due any day now, but Emily had called him with the case and gave him the choice of working. He was supposed to go with you to the check-up, but you had encouraged him to go save a life.
The woman who had been found this morning had her abdomen crudely cut open and her baby was born via a botched cesarean section, but her baby was too premature and didn’t make it. They were both found in an alley near the hospital by a garbage man. Then, while he and Luke were at the medical examiner’s office, his phone started to ring.
You had been discovered, bleeding out, outside of your obstetrician’s office, and if you hadn’t been so close to a building full of doctors, you probably wouldn’t have made it as far as surgery right now. The fact that you had been brought to surgery should have been enough to give him hope, but he hasn’t been raised to be hopeful, he was raised to be pragmatic. The reality of the situation was that in cases of fetal abduction, the mothers rarely made it out the other side.
He was left with Garcia to keep him company, she stayed as a watchdog, mainly looking through traffic footage on her laptop as she made sure Spencer didn’t go entirely off the rails. “You’re going to burn a hole in the floor,” she said offhandedly, begging Spencer to just sit down for a moment.
With a huff, he took a seat next to Penelope, leaning his head back on the taupe drywall, “I don’t know what to do,” he confessed.
“We’re going to wait, we are not going to catastrophize, and we will listen to any and all updates that the doctors give us,” she said determinedly, nodding her head as she did so. “We only know what we know and assuming the worst will just lead to feeling worse.”
Closing his eyes, he agreed, listening to the bustle of the hospital from inside the secluded, makeshift waiting space. He wished he knew more about your status when you came in, there were the crime scene photos – which Penelope was under strict orders not to show him – and a quick mention from a resident about blood loss, but nothing else.
“Dr. Reid?” A new voice said, snapping him out of his stupor as he rose to his feet, staring at the doctor who came in with his scrub cap on, “I’m afraid there isn’t much news. Things are still touch and go. They’re hopeful that they can get the bleeding under control, once they do that, we’ll know more. I’ll come out and let you know, alright?”
With the doctor leaving, Garcia reopened her laptop, “You see? We can’t assume the worst because we just don’t know enough yet.”
“Garcia,” he interrupted, hopeful for just a moment of silence to digest the new information – if you could even call it that.
Nodding succinctly, she returned to her work, “Right, okay.”
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With the arrival of JJ, Penelope left to check in at the office, and since a profiler was bound to know more information, he asked JJ for an update. His baby had to be almost three hours old now, and he knew nothing about them.
He was left disappointed, there was no information on the UnSub or the baby, “What’s the point of it anyway?”
“Everyone is working on it, Spence. No one is going to rest until this case is closed,” JJ tried to reassure him.
Spencer wasn’t sure he was ever truly going to rest again, “Where is someone supposed to go with a newborn baby? The umbilical cord has to be still attached.” Statistically, women were more likely to commit cesarean abductions, and they usually did so after the loss of their own child or because they told someone they were pregnant and needed to produce a baby. “No one can tell me anything about my child, JJ, don’t you understand that? Can’t you try to understand how that feels?”
Bracing herself, JJ nodded, “You’re angry, I get it, you-“
“No, you don’t. My wife is bleeding out in surgery, and I have no fucking clue where our baby is. I have never met them. I don’t know if I have a son or a daughter or if they’re alive and you have the nerve to tell me that you ‘get it’?” He peered over at the blonde profiler. You should’ve been the first person to hold your baby, and instead, you might never live to find out what happened to you.
She was silent for a moment, “You’re right. I- I can’t even begin to process what you’re feeling right now, but all we can do is keep working on the case.”
Dropping his head in his hands, Spencer shook his head, “Then go work on the case,” he insisted, “I don’t… I need to be alone right now.”
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Just as the four-hour mark approached, the glass door opened again, and David Rossi walked in.
“Are you here to lecture me?” Spencer asked, his voice raspy from crying in the solitude of the room, he wondered if JJ had told everyone how he lashed out at her.
Crossing one leg over the other, Rossi answered, “Nope,” he said, popping the last syllable. “I’m just here to sit and wait, same as you, kid.”
Nodding, Spencer leaned his head back and closed his eyes as a protection against the fluorescent lights of the hospital, “How did you manage?”
There were some things – life events – that were left unspoken in the BAU. Traumas that people didn’t want uncovered, horrors that the team didn’t need to relive, but Spencer needed answers, and this was the only way he could think to get them. “Manage what?”
“Losing your son,” he answered, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he kept his eyes closed, wondering if he too would lose a child. Birth and death within the same day.
Clearing his throat, Rossi took a moment before responding, and Spencer wasn’t sure if he was appalled at the question or if he simply wasn’t sure how to respond, “Well, I’m not sure I ever really did. Not for a long time, at least,” he admitted.
Digesting the information, Spencer shifted in his seat, “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Everyone just keeps telling me to wait, but…” he chuckled to himself, “Y/N always jokes that if patience is the companion of wisdom, then I have to be the exception.”
He had always been told to wait. Wait for his turn. Wait for the perfect person to show up. He had waited, and he had gotten you, but all of that waiting had led him here. In this beige room where he had signed papers asking doctors to use extraordinary measures to try and save your life.
“Dr. Reid?” One of the doctors from earlier called his name, knocking on the glass door. Instinctively, Spencer stood up, wiping his hands on his pants and looking at the doctor expectantly, “Oh, please,” the doctor said, “Take a seat.”
Hesitantly, Spencer lowered himself back down into the hospital chair, he couldn’t help but feel like that was a bad sign.
“All things considered, your wife is very, very lucky,” the doctor informed him, “She’s not fully out of the woods yet, but they’re setting her up in recovery right now. I’m just waiting on a message from my colleague, and then I’ll be able to bring you up to see her.”
A flurry of questions flew through his mind at once, “What are you still concerned about?” He asked, leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees.
Nodding, the doctor continued, “Y/N lost a lot of blood in the attack. When you factor in the trauma of having a baby and a four-hour surgery, there’s a lot of healing that has to happen, and right now she doesn’t have the strength for it.” His phone chimed, and Spencer jolted, trying not to get his hopes up if it wasn’t about you, “Come with me,” the doctor said.
Rossi offered to let the rest of the team know and Spencer rambled off a random confirmation as he followed the doctor through the doorway, feeling like he was floating. As they walked through the hospital, Spencer grew more and more anxious.
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Your hand was cold. In fact, your hand was so cold that Spencer asked the doctor to turn the volume on your vital monitor up so that he could have the constant reassurance that you were alive.
Blood was being transfused still, he had already forgotten the doctor’s estimate on just how much blood you had lost, but if he had the urge to read through your medical chart, he was sure he could find out. The only problem was, ever since the doctor left, he hadn’t been able to do anything except stare.
Every once in a while, he pinched your index finger, testing the capillary refill time out of his own morbid curiosity while blood was being returned to your body. Agents and officers stood outside of your hospital room in a steady rotation. The BAU wasn’t sure if your life was still in danger, but they weren’t willing to take any risks.
There were countless law enforcement personnel involved in this case now, if not directly investigating the case, they were at least contributing to the search. The Manassas Field Office, DC Metro, the Maryland Police – they were all out there looking. Out the window, he could see news reporters gathering out front to start their afternoon broadcasts.
It had been four hours. Four hours and there was still no word on the baby or the UnSub. The baby would need to eat soon, and Spencer found himself depending on the UnSub to have had the forethought to take care of the newborn.
Every couple of minutes, you would mumble something in your sleep, and he willed you to stay asleep. Selfishly, he wanted you to stay asleep until he knew the baby was safe – until he knew he could have something good to tell you.
Penelope was stationed right outside the door. She likely thought he hadn’t noticed her return, but the clicking of her keyboard gave her away.
Infrequently, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he tried not to concern himself with it. Garcia had made contact with your mom, being sure to reach out to your family before any other news hit the airwaves.
He adjusted the way the nasal cannula rested on your face before bringing your hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles and resting your cold fingers against his cheek, as if his face had the capacity to warm your whole body. Briefly, he wondered if the team would be willing to have a desk agent bring you a blanket from home.
The team would probably find a way to get him a helicopter if he requested it.
Flowers and cards flowed into your hospital room, arriving from people who knew you to people who had seen your story on the news. He had to look away when a small stuffed elephant was delivered by a nurse, knowing that the baby it belonged to was nowhere to be found.
Much to his surprise, he looked away from the stuffed animal just to find you looking back at him. The sorrow in your eyes a staggering reflection of that which could be found in his own. One glance at you and he knew that there was no need for him to break the news to you – you were well aware.
Spencer remained wholly silent as a slew of medical professionals filtered in and out of the room, a cacophony of directives and questions sent your way as tears filled your waterline. He captured your hand in both of his, holding your hand like it was a lifeline to everything he knew as the truth. He was here, you were here, and you were both alive. Tethered to you in the woven web of life, he refused to falter. Not now. Not when you needed him the most.
He answered the questions that you didn’t know the answers to and watched, tight-lipped, as your doctor kept you informed. Dr. Lasher was picking and choosing from your chart, telling you anything pertinent, and leaving out anything that she thought could wait for later.
Once the doctor had cleared through an extensive list of maladies, everyone let you have the room. “Darling,” he whispered, reaching a hand out to adjust the way your hospital gown rested on your shoulder, covering some of the exposed wires.
“There are no leads?” You asked tentatively, the pain in your voice exacerbated by the swelling caused by the breathing tube you’d had during surgery. Your eyes were glassy, and Spencer didn’t know if it was from sorrow or pain or fear. It was a question he was afraid to ask.
He shook his head, “Not yet, but everyone’s looking,” he fed you the same reassurances that had been given to him. The same reassurances that he hadn’t believed.
You moved your hands, laying your palms flat on the sterile white sheets and starting to push yourself up, only to be met with Spencer’s hands guiding you back down to the pillows. “I’ve gotta go,” you mumbled, “I wanna help. Spence, please let me help.” Fresh tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him in desperation.
The way your bottom lip quivered was what broke him, he tilted his head to the side, “You can help just fine from right here, okay?” He looked out into the hallway, wondering which member of the team was around for you to talk to. “I’ll be right back,” he told you, squeezing your hand before retreating to the hallway, never letting you out of his line of sight.
“Hey,” Penelope greeted, the compassion in her voice giving him pause, “How is she?”
Exhausted, terrified, in pain – all applicable at the moment. Spencer thought about answering for a moment before skipping Garcia’s question entirely, “Who’s around for a cognitive?”
You didn’t quite have the energy for a full interview, but you were so adamant about helping that he couldn’t refuse you, not today. “JJ’s one floor up, do you want me to call her for you?”
He thought about it for a moment, he hadn’t handled his last interaction with JJ with the most care, but you needed someone to talk to and it couldn’t be him. “Yeah,” he nodded, “Please.”
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Spencer sat on the edge of your bed, smoothing your hair as he tried to comfort you. In all of the time he’d known you, he’d never need you so defeated.
Not much came out during your cognitive with JJ, either there was a mental block in the way or you hadn’t seen much when you were attacked. Whichever one it was, Spencer was fighting himself internally on whether or not he should be thankful.
“I’m so sorry,” Spencer murmured, keeping his voice low as you fought off sleep. “Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he cooed, “You need to rest.”
You fought sleep with everything you had in you, which wasn’t much anymore. The cognitive interview had gone too long. Your nurse was the one who put her foot down and ended it, even when you wanted to keep going. “It’s not fair,” you cried, slow tears making their way down your cheeks.
Very slowly, Spencer could feel his heart breaking as your exhaustion and desolation worked together to make you as miserable as possible, “I know, lovey. I know,” he assured you as tears filled his eyes.
Glassy eyes looked up at him, “I just wanted to be a mom,” you whispered, your speech slurred with sleep.
Letting his own tears fall to the white sheets of your hospital bed, Spencer nodded, “You are a mom.”
He didn’t add anything. He didn’t have it in him to make a grandiose speech about how you would always be your baby’s mother, and, luckily, he didn’t need to. Your eyes finally fell shut, final tears falling from your face as Spencer found himself grateful that sleep finally took you.
Never leaving your side, Spencer pulled the chair back up next to you, resting his chin on your bed's armrest and watching you sleep. Very slowly, color was beginning to return to your face, yet you still looked so different from when he had left the house that morning.
Unsure how long it had been, Spencer shot up straight when Penelope came rushing to the doorway, placing a finger to his lips, he nodded toward your sleeping form. Even so, the technical analyst waved him over.
Carefully, he slipped his hand out of yours and walked around your bed to Penelope, “What is it?”
Tears filled the blonde’s eyes as she looked up at him, she put both of her hands on his upper arms and cried, “They found your baby. It- they’re pulling up to the ambulance bay right now.”
Spencer’s lips parted in shock, having fully prepared himself for the day to end in undeniable heartbreak. “Are- is the baby okay?”
Penelope nodded, “They’re going up to the NICU right now to get checked out but apparently the EMTs said the baby looks completely unharmed.”
Turning to look at you, still asleep on the bed, Spencer gave Penelope a quick embrace before returning to your bedside, “Sweetheart,” he whispered, trying to wake you up from sleep that you still needed. “Honey,” he said, gently cupping your cheek with his hands as your eyes fluttered open.
You hummed groggily, squinting up at him under the fluorescence of the hospital.
“The baby’s here,” he murmured to you, making sure you didn’t jump up at his words. “They’re headed up to the NICU for a quick check, and-“
“Go,” you cut him off, your eyes wide and full of tears. “Please go hold them, Spence,” you cried, voice rough with sleep.
His shoulders slouched forward slightly, looking between you and Penelope in the doorway, “I’ll stay here,” Penelope offered immediately. “You go, I’ll stay.”
You nodded up at him, closing your eyes as he bent forward to press a kiss to your hairline. “I love you,” you breathed, placing a hand on your chest as if it would slow your racing heart.
“I love you too,” he responded before stepping out of the hospital room, following the directions that Penelope had given him in order to get up to the NICU.
Adrenaline made his stomach churn as he approached the NICU, wondering what he’d say to the people there until someone recognized him as The Dad. He still had to scrub his hands, but they let him through until he saw the bassinet. Even more, he saw the tiny baby kicking its legs inside of the acrylic container.
Emily stood by on high alert, ready to pounce on anyone who even looked at the baby funny, and Spencer just couldn’t stop staring. “Come here,” one of the NICU nurses said to him, obviously having been brought up to speed on the situation. With a smile on her face, she told him, “It’s a girl.”
“A girl,” he breathed, walking right up to the side of the bassinet.
The nurse nodded and adjusted the hat on her head, just slightly too big for the newborn’s head, “If you want, we can get you set up in a chair here, and you can give her a bottle.”
“Please,” he responded, earning another smile from the nurse, who had him take the crying baby in his arms before handing him the prepared bottle.
It broke his heart to watch how quickly she took to the bottle; he still wasn’t sure if she had eaten anything until this. He knew the nipple wouldn’t let her take in too much at a time, but in his subconscious, he was still worried about it being too much for her.
He rocked gently, “Hi, honey,” he cooed down at her.
“She’s a good eater,” the nurse observes, writing something down on a piece of paper. “We’ll keep an eye on her for just a little while, but we know how badly she needs to get down to her mama.”
Setting the now empty bottle down, Spencer looked up at the nurse, “Is she okay?”
The nurse nodded at his concern, “She’s on the small size, but she’s full term. Of course, not everything is going to be noticeable right away, but we did a full newborn exam on her and all of the tests say she’s a perfectly healthy baby.” She looked on as Spencer gently cupped the baby’s head, “Does she have a name?”
You and Spencer had made a deal, he would pick a boy’s name, and you would pick a girl’s name. Smiling softly, he murmured her name to her for the first time, “Genevieve,” he answered. A big name for such a small baby, maybe, but it was the name you had chosen.
He started making his way back down to you, feeling like he was floating through the taupe hallways of the hospital before he finally made it back to your room. Penelope excused herself when he emerged in the hallway.
“Spence,” you whispered, looking up at him with hope in your eyes for the first time since you had woken up after surgery.
Smiling at you, he sat on the edge of your bed, “Five pounds and fifteen ounces. Seventeen and a half inches long. Perfectly healthy.” He glanced behind him as he heard the wheels of the bassinet coming toward your room, turning back to watch your reaction as you saw your baby for the first time.
He was glad for his eidetic memory, he’d never want to forget the way your face lit up with recognition, “Oh, a girl.”
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With the baby settled on your chest, there was nothing better for the two of you to do than watch her sleep. Every once in a while, she’d coo or squawk and immediately capture your every attention all over again. “How are you feeling?” Spencer asked you. The blood transfusions had been completed, leaving you on a course of broad-spectrum antibiotics, fluids, and lots of pain medication – two of which prevented you from breastfeeding. Although, because of her size and traumatic birth, the NICU doctor suggested that some formula would help her grow properly.
You hummed contentedly, “Tired. I hurt just about everywhere,” you admitted, not taking your eyes off of your newborn. “I’m so… just grateful,” you whispered, “Is that odd?”
“No,” he shook his head, “I know exactly what you mean.” For as terrible and horrifying as the entire ordeal was, it could’ve been much worse. He almost lost both of his girls in one day.
“Does the team want to meet her?” You asked, worried about entertaining guests with the baby.
Spencer chuckled softly, keeping his index finger pointed within Genevieve’s reach, testing her palmar reflex, “I’m sure they do, but we’ll wait and see how you feel tomorrow and revisit. Okay?”
Your head bobbed in confirmation, watching as your daughter very slowly woke up, “Hi, Vie,” you greeted her quietly, gently rubbing her back with your fingertips. You didn’t have the strength to fully hold her, but she was more than happy to just lay on you, “Sweet, sleepy girl.”
“Do you want me to take her, and you can get some sleep?” Spencer offered, noticing the way you were trying to hide a yawn from him. “We aren’t going anywhere, we’ll stay right here in this chair,” he reassured you based on the apprehensive look you were giving him.
Slowly, you nodded, helping as best you could and pouting in sympathy when Genevieve – Vie – cried out at the sensation of being moved from her warm spot on her mother’s chest to the warm spot in her father’s arms. Thankfully, the newborn calmed down just as soon as Spencer settled her in his arms, “Don’t go,” you whispered, letting your eyes fall shut as you allowed sleep to wash over you.
He hummed, “We won’t,” he muttered in response.
Sleep took you with little resistance, leaving him with Genevieve in the silence of the hospital room – save for all of the machines that you were still hooked up to.
She wouldn’t be up for much longer herself – newborns spent most of their day sleeping – so Spencer took his opportunity to watch her eyes wander around the hospital room. “You can go back to sleep too, little love. I’ll watch over the both of you,” he spoke to her in a reverent tone and adjusted the hat on her head.  “I’ll keep you safe, Vie. No harm will come to you, not as long as I’m your dad.”
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655 notes · View notes
ellecdc · 2 days
Note
About the onde bed trope… since there aren’t a lot of those, I was wondering if you could write one with reader and wolfstar? Maybe a smut or just something fluff
hi babes! so I got this request right after someone had asked for recommendations for one-bed tropes, which I had only ever read one and shared it. SO, I wanted to remind everyone of the cute wolfstar x reader one bed fic I read by @longlivedelusion, and know that while I'm happy to contribute to this super fun trope with our lovely wolfstar, that it was more than likely inspired by their awesome work linked above!
poly!wolfstar x Potter!reader who have to share a bed [2.8k words]
CW: mutual pining, feelings of 3rd wheeling, fluff, potter family
The hotel was bustling with what appeared to be just as many staff as there were patrons waiting in the lobby.
Bags were being whisked away, key cards were being handed to waiting hands, and nearly every second person was wearing a Manchester United jersey. 
James was positively giddy and practically vibrating with excitement, Lily and Regulus had their faces shoved into Lily’s phone as they (re)read the itinerary they had planned for James’ birthday trip, Remus arched his shoulders as he let his duffle fall to the ground and Sirius murmured promises of a back massage when they got to their room, and you people watched. 
Your parents had given James (and all of his friends) tickets to the Manchester home game and a few nights stay at a posh hotel close to the stadium.
Lily and Regulus, being James’ dutiful partners, planned other things for the lot of you to do while you were here, too.
Right now, however, you wanted nothing more than to get to your room, take a shower to wash the train off of your being, and go to sleep.
Mercifully the check in counter cleared and your group stepped up to the waiting concierge. 
“Hi there! We’re checking in for Potter; group of six.” Lily offered primly as she handed the man a copy of the booking number. 
“Right! Okay, so Potter, two rooms, each with a king, for three nights.” The man read from the screen, looking over in concern when six varied protests sounded from the group.
“No, I’m quite sure it’s meant to be three rooms.” Lily corrected quickly, offering you a worried glance before she nearly leaned over the welcome desk to peer at the computer monitor as if she was ready to take over for the concierge. 
The man hummed as he continued tapping keys and clicking his mouse and scrolling and please for the love of God don’t let there be a mix up.
It was going to be you that was the problem; not Lily and Regulus who were counting on a romantic trip to celebrate their boyfriend, and not Remus and Sirius with their long-established relationship and promises of Remus’ massage.
“The booking is only showing two rooms, uhm, let me just confirm with my manager that I’m not missing anything.” He bumbled awkwardly before standing and all but fleeing from the group of you. 
“It’s probably just a mistake.” James offered quickly as he jostled your shoulder. “With this many people here, the system is probably just lagging.”
But it wasn’t just a mistake and the system wasn’t just lagging and there was very much only two rooms booked under Potter.
“Is there any way we can book a third room? It can go on the same card.” You asked meekly, nervously glancing between the manager and the computer. 
“Unfortunately, the hotel is entirely booked.” She offered you with a pained smile, and just from your survey of the lobby while you’d been waiting in line, you knew that had to be true. 
“Do you have any cots we could have sent up to the rooms?” Lily asked hopefully, earning another grimace from the manager which was all the response you needed.
You could feel the group looking at you awkwardly and you immediately regretted even coming; you should have just left James to celebrate his birthday with his partners and best friends and stayed out of it, but instead, you were the troublesome younger sibling who your parents forced the group to bring along. Maybe you could catch a train back home? Maybe you could catch a train a town or two over and just have your own mini vacation and leave them to their celebrations.
“Don’t worry, bug!” James said as he rubbed your arm roughly before reaching over you to grab the keys to the two rooms from the concierge who was clearly now only waiting for the lot of you to bugger off so he could help the people behind you. “We’ll make this work.”
“You shouldn’t have to make it work, Jamie.” You moaned as your group moved to stand against a wall across the lobby as you all tried to problem solve this. 
“Both rooms have just one bed each, right? Do either of them have a sofa?” Regulus asked first.
“The pictures online didn’t look like it; the rooms had the bed, one grandfather chair, and a desk with a rolling desk chair.” Lily responded. 
“Okay, well, both rooms have king sized beds, we can share.” Sirius offered simply, causing you to nearly whimper.
“I’m not going to impose on anyone’s beds.” You murmured as you stared resolutely at your feet.
“You can share with me! It’ll be like the old days when we’d have a “sleepover” in the living room!” James offered excitedly, and you had to hand it to him for his sense of adventure and enthusiasm, but you couldn’t help but notice the quick glance Lily and Regulus shared.
“It’s your birthday weekend, Jamie, you should get to spend it with your partners.”
“Okayyyy, uhm, what about the girls room together and boys room together?” He offered instead, causing Lily to furrow her brows at him.
“But then two of us will be sharing while four of you will be sharing.” She countered, followed up quickly by Regulus who stated he would not, under any circumstances, be sharing a bed with his brother. 
“No, you’re right, erm, well… Me, Pads, and Moony could share-”
“James, I love you, but you’re terrible at this.” Sirius interrupted before turning his gaze to you. “You should just stay with me and Moons; leave these three to their…canoodling.” He said around a theatrical gag. 
“You guys were probably looking forward to a romantic stay too.” You muttered somewhat petulantly, and that was what nearly brought you to the brink of tears.
Not that you were the figurative sixth wheel, not that you were left without a room and imposing on two relationships, and not even that you felt particularly out of place.
No, the thing that nearly brought you to tears was the fact that you were acting so petulant on your brother's birthday which he had been so incredibly excited for.
You would not ruin this for him, for any of them. 
“No, you know what, sorry, you’re right, Sirius. I’ll pile the extra bedding they keep in the closets and make myself a little nest on the floor, it’ll be like camping!” You decided, pasting on the widest smile you could muster. 
You swore you saw Sirius’ face fall slightly but powered on when James was back to clapping his hands together excitedly. “Brilliant! This will be so fun, and so worth it, bug. Don’t you worry.”
And you were worried, but he didn’t need to know that. 
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“You’re not actually going to sleep on the floor, right doll?” Sirius asked after the hotel door shut with a click behind him as he glanced around the room. 
It was perhaps a bit tight, but if you set up your little nest underneath the window, neither boy should trip over you in the middle of the night should they need to use the loo.
“Oh it’ll be fine.” You offered in what you hoped was convincing nonchalance. 
“I really think the bed is big enough, dove. And Sirius usually latches onto me in the night so you shouldn’t even notice we’re there.” Remus offered gently, watching as you flung the closet doors open to procure the extra bedding. 
“S’not my fault, moons.” Sirius countered as he trailed right on your heels to where you were trying to make your ‘nest’. “You keep the thermostat so sodding low, I’d simply freeze to death if you didn’t share your body heat.”
He ignored your indignant “oi!” as he immediately plucked your pillows and blankets off the floor from where you’d placed them and moved them to the end of the bed. “And, I think you do that on purpose; you like cuddling.” He continued, gently swatting at your hands as you tried to reclaim your makeshift bed. 
“Oh, I love cuddling.” Remus agreed readily, clearly ignoring the fact that you and Sirius were currently in a petty squabble over linens. “What I don’t like is being jolted awake to your ice cold feet being shoved under my thighs at three o'clock in the morning- dove.” He gave you a pointed look with one arched eyebrow as you huffed petulantly and crossed your arms. 
“You are not sleeping on the floor, doll. Your parents paid for the sodding rooms.” Sirius claimed resolutely. 
“They were meant to pay for three rooms so that you two would have some privacy.” You argued.
“You’re really the only one upset about this, babes.” He stated, face softening when you nervously pulled your lip between your teeth. “If you’re worried about space, I’ll take the floor.”
“I don’t want you to take the floor.”
“Then I’ll take-” Remus started, but was interrupted when both you and Sirius spat “you’re not sleeping on the floor, Remus” and “like fuck you’re sleeping on the floor, don’t be ridiculous”, respectively. 
“So those are your choices, sweetheart; I take the floor or we share the bed.” 
After this many years of knowing each other, you knew when Sirius was bluffing, and you knew when it was better to fold; with the no nonsense look that currently adorned his face, you knew that those were, indeed, your only options.
You looked over at the bed wearily; it really was quite large…and you could use your own blanket so that you weren’t encroaching on their space or stealing their blankets. 
The problem was that the bed wasn’t the only problem. It also was very much the fact that you were pretty well completely gone for two of your brothers best friends.
Two of your brothers best friends who were very much dating each other. 
Two of your brothers best friends who were dating each other that you were completely gone for and now forced to share a bed with them. 
Awesome. 
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Sirius just about died when you stepped out of the bathroom with wet hair leaving damp patches on your sleep shirt and your legs on full display thanks to the matching shorts.
He just about died again when you caught him staring at you.
He nearly died a third time when Remus’ pointed clearing of his throat was what finally broke him from the trance you had on him; both he and Remus now red in the face while you looked to be fairing little better as you hid behind your wet hair and fussed with your toiletries instead of looking at either of them.
Sirius felt horribly pathetic - years of living with the Potter’s did absolutely nothing to dim the flame he held for you, nor did the physical space that living with Remus in their own flat for the past few years offered him.
The only thing that made his infatuation slightly less embarrassing was the fact that Remus held a similar flame for you, too. 
So while this was sort of everything he’d ever wanted - spending the night in a bed with two people he was absolutely crazy about - he was equally afraid of making you horribly uncomfortable. 
“Smooth.” Remus muttered as he came up behind Sirius only after you’d gone back into the bathroom to brush your teeth.
Sirius wanted to turn and sneer at his boyfriend. “I know I am” danced on the tip of his tongue; his usual suave blaseness in all its glory rearing its head at the insinuation that Sirius was anything but a certified charmer.
But all that managed to leave Sirius’ lips was a breathy “fuck” as he stared decisively at the space you’d been standing previously.
But before Sirius could spend any (more) time spiralling or Remus could offer words of encouragement (or commiseration), you were tentatively sliding into what the three of you had agreed would be your side.
Your side. 
The sentiment made Sirius stomach dip; after all these years he was finally getting a taste of what he’d always wanted.
Yet it wasn’t enough.
The lights were off and Sirius’ back was pressed into Remus’ chest as they both watched the steady rise and fall of your shoulders as you slept. They’d both felt so tired on the train ride here, yet neither of them could bring themselves to close their eyes when the alternative was getting to see you rest in their bed.
“Is this really happening?” Remus whispered quietly then, causing Sirius to snuggle impossibly further into him.
“Feels like a dream.” Sirius whispered back; his hand itching to reach out and twirl a lock of your drying hair around his finger, to encourage you to roll over so that they could see your pretty face, to pull you into him and hold you close. 
Remus tightened his hold around Sirius and pushed his nose into his shoulder. “We should tell her; need to tell her… this weekend.” 
Sirius shook his head, but it wasn’t in disagreement. Rather, it was in exasperation.
“I can’t believe she can’t tell how crazy we are about her.” 
And Sirius nearly died a fourth time in one night when you seemingly shot up out of a dead sleep and spun to face them. 
“You’re what?” You asked; no hints of sleep in your tone (nor your wild eyes) as you stared at them incredulously. 
“Fuck.” Sirius repeated eloquently as he and Remus both sat up, the latter leaning over to turn on a lamp causing both you and Sirius to wince as your eyes adjusted.
“I thought you were asleep?” Sirius accused then, but you didn’t take the bait. 
“You’re…what about me?” You whispered carefully.
“Crazy.” Remus responded quickly; whether he was braver than Sirius or opting to rip the bandaid off, Sirius didn’t know. “We’re crazy about you.”
You made a breathy sound, almost as if you were going to ask “what” or “why” or “when” before the question died on your lips. 
Sirius stared at you in wait; he didn’t know whether you were about to cry, whether you were going to demand they let you build a ‘nest’ on the floor so you could escape them, or whether you were going to call your folks and ask them to pick you up.
So when your face broke out into a slow, still disbelieving but equally relieved grin, well…he’d be damned. 
“Yeah?” You asked hopefully, eyes swimming with unshed tears as you nervously looked between the two of them. 
“Yeah…” Sirius let out with a breath, daring to reach across the expanse of the bed that the three of you had clearly decided would be a no-man zone and delighting when you eagerly accepted his hand in yours.
“We thought you were asleep, dove.” Remus offered gently, and a shy smile crept across your face as you shook your head, a lone tear trailing down your cheek that your free hand was quick to wipe away.
“Couldn’t.”
“Why not?” Sirius cooed pathetically, rubbing along your knuckles with his thumb as he took your inability to sleep to be a personal offence. 
“Was too busy thinking about how crazy I am about the two of you, too.” You admitted in a whisper, and Sirius wondered if he had even frozen long enough to share more than a 0.35 second glance with Remus before he bodily launched himself and tackled you to the bed before peppering your face with kisses as you squealed.
“You mean-” kisses “to tell me-” more kisses as you giggled “that we could have been doing this” you squealed as he nipped at your collar bone “this whole sodding time!?” 
“Oi!” Remus chided teasingly. “Don’t maul her!” Though his statement was severely undermined when he all but pulled you into his lap to press his own rough kiss to the side of your face. 
“Oh, I’m just getting started.” Sirius threatened with a beaming smile as you looked at him breathlessly; eyes bright, smile wide, and heart full. “We have lost time to make up for.” 
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Enough was enough, quite frankly. The tiptoeing, the dancing, the shy glances, the longing looks - it was all too much.
Something simply needed to be done.
Was it temerarious? Perhaps. Was it conniving? More than slightly. But was it also necessary? Most definitely.
She only hoped that she hadn’t gone too far, is all.
But any worries that Euphemia Potter may have had vanished entirely the second that her phone buzzed with a text from James the next morning that simply read: it worked.
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ohtobeleah · 2 days
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If Logan is one thing, it's protective. and not in a "You're mine and can't do anything for yourself" Toxic way. He's protective in an "I'll literally do anything and everything for you, come hell or high water, I'd throw my over-extended life on the line to keep you safe."
I could see the two of you getting in some sort of car accident. He was the one driving. Something he always insists on doing. You don't often fight him on matters like who does what and when. You enjoy the journey just as much as getting to the destination with Logan in all aspects of life. Just being in each other's presence is enough for you most of the time.
"Y/n?" Logan growls as he comes to. Hell if the impact was enough to rattle him, it had to be enough to be a cause for concern for you. "Honey?" He looks over to where you're slumped in the passenger seat. Not only had you been wearing your seatbelt, but with an instinct to keep you safe, keep you protected from harm's way, Logan had flung his arm across your chest to keep you back against the seat.
"Fuck, Honey, hey--?" Logans reaches over, groaning as he moves. there's shattered glass fragments and twisted aluminium all around you. "I've got you," He taps your cheek softly, trying his best to coax you out of your unconscious state. "I'm here, wake up for me?" Logan seems to be asking questions when in reality it's more of a statement. he needs you to wake up, he needs you to be alright. without you? Logan isn't sure if he could keep living.
"Don't do this to me, please?" He nearly cries as your head lulls to the side, blood dripping from your nose, and your mouth. "I love you," He admits softly while trying to assess the damage done from the impact. You're his girl, why would someone try and take you away from him like this? Had he not been through enough loss? enough hurt?
"Did you just say you love me, Lo?" You mumble as your eyelids flicker. Logan lets out a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding in. "That's kinda sweet, I'm telling your boyfriend." Logan knew you were referring to Wade, but he didn't care. All he cared about was that you were still here with him.
"You're hearing things," Logan replied as a smile crept across his aging face. The salt and pepper beard prevalent on his cheeks is speckled blood. "Don't scare me like that ever again, you hear me?"
"You're the one who's driving," You look across to where Logan is sitting, the pair of you still trapped in a twisted mess. "And I think it's time for you to wake up now." You stare at him a little more seriously than what you'd just been. Logan feels himself slipping back to reality...only to wake up on your lounge, alone.
"Ahhh!" Logan wakes with an audible gasp as his claws eject from between his knuckles. It's something he's become accustomed to. Waking in the middle of the night from nightmares that haunt him from his past. But these ones were new to him. The fear of losing you had begun to creep into his subconscious.
He's sweating, shaking from a heightened level of adrenaline and fear. But your voice cuts through it all.
"You were dreaming again," You speak up from where you're perched on the kitchen bench. Just sitting, drinking a cup of tea. Watching the man who'd stayed the night sleep on your couch because he refused to stay in your bed. "Kept calling my name out, I saw your uh--claws and thought perhaps keeping a safe distance would be practical."
"Come here," Logan sighs in frustration on two fronts. One, from his utterly confronting nightmare. Two, you somehow manage to sneak up on him like no one else can. "Please?" So that's what you do. You pad over in your underwear and perch yourself on Logan's lap. "What happened Lo?" You coo as your fingers card through his locks.
"I don't know what I'd ever do if I lost you, Honey." He replies sincerely, softly. It's a nice juxtaposition to his normal brooding self.
"Good thing I don't have any plans on going anywhere anytime soon, huh?" You whisper through a smile as you gently press your lips against Logans. He accepts the gesture and goes with the flow. Leaning back against the couch as you deepen the kiss. "Come to bed with me?"
"You know I can't--" Logan whispers into your mouth. "But can you stay here for a few minutes?" He counters your offer with his own. "Please?"
"I'm not going anywhere, Lo." You remind him, kissing him gently and ever so slow as Logan melts against you. And for as protective as Logan is, for the first time, someone was just as willing to be his safeguard in return. "You're safe with me."
You keep him safe from himself.
Ilya
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Satin Pillows To Cry On
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CW: coercion with money, age gap(7 yrs), transactional marriage, obsessive/yandere behavior
gn! reader
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You’ve got nothing else, no one else to rely on. 
‘You’re something he bought to keep from growing old.” 
Your clothes are worth small countries. Your cars stacked in 3-level garages. Diamonds, emeralds, pearls hanging from your wrists and ears, satchels made of endangered animal skins, different shoes for each day of the year. 
Your boyfriend of three years spat at your feet when you told him what you were doing. 
“His money can’t love you, not like I can.”
The wedding was only two months away when you broke up with him, told him you couldn’t live in his broke-down apartment anymore, that you couldn’t live with debt trailing wherever you went. You went so far as to make him hate you, to tell him that you never wanted to see him again, that you never loved him, that he better not bother showing up to the wedding. You didn’t want him there, you never wanted to see him again. 
“You’re lying to me; he’s making you say these things, he’s using you against me! You’ve known him what-- two seconds, and you’re going to marry this man?! He’s nearly a decade older than you!” 
Seven years of an age gap or not, he was still a thousand times more independent, wealthy, and a safer choice than your boyfriend. You weren’t some fresh college student new to the world, you had graduated over two years ago, still finding no luck in getting a stable income-- forget about whether or not it was in the field of your degree. 
You left in a single day, fitting all of your scavanged belongings into one of your fiance’s awaiting cars. You left anything worth of value with your ex-boyfriend, knowing he’d find more use out of it than you would. You would even leave the rest of your things there if he could find use for them, but you knew they’d just be one more painful reminder of your betrayal. 
He did as you said, not showing up to your wedding, staying clear, never appearing in your line of sight since the day you left. It made it easier…. For both of you that way. 
And now you were happy-- well, maybe not happy, maybe not even content, but you were… safe. You had everything you needed: a working car, a stable job that you felt productive in, a clean and comforting house to come home to, a spouse. Sure, maybe you didn’t get your new job yourself, or your house or your car-- but did that really matter, in this economy? Who wouldn’t trade their life and their independence for this kind of wealth?
And your husband… he wasn’t all bad. He might have only wanted you for the sake of having you at first, like a new jewel or the latest technological invention. But he was doting and caring in his own way. Maybe just a tiny bit too invested in you, in your schedule and who you talked to. A little too hateful towards your ex-boyfriend, the one who had you before he could. But everyone had character flaws, and on good days you could distract him from his grumpy mood and stress and obsessive behaviors by being the loving and oh so perfect spouse you had trained yourself to be ever since he asked to marry you. 
“Colder than all that gold…” You repeated in your mind, the words your family whispered to each other at your wedding reception only a few feet away from you. 
That was over six months now, though… the honeymoon phase never existed, you rarely saw your husband except for his midnight appearances back from the office, and whenever he would whisk you away for a weekend vacation to savor the time he had with you. For someone more sophisticated, much wealthier, and dare you say handsomer than the average man-- you were surprised to find he didn’t have a line of divorces behind him. 
No; he said, he had been “waiting for you.” whether  you or he knew it, he understood right from the moment of meeting you that you were the one he’d have for the rest of his life, even if it killed him. That severity… scared you. But in a sick sense, it made you feel relieved. Forever? This could be yours, forever? Your family would never have to struggle again, you would never have to worry where your next meal came from?
“I cleared your schedule until tuesday; we’re going to the isles. A mini vacation, you might call it. Get your things.”
He was cold, that was for sure. But, was he any worse than your ex-boyfriend, especially when he was offering you an expensive experience on top of that?
“All right..” You acquiesced. 
And now, you lied sunken into the bed feeling his loving, hot breath on your navel. Going so sweetly slow, so oddly and uncharacteristingly lingering with his touches as he gazes into your eyes. You didn’t like this; didn’t like that when he was cherishing you, making love to you, holding you so intimately, he was appearing… like a husband should. Where did he get the nerve to ignore you everyday, to have hardly any time for you, only to come back and beg for your love when it was convenient for him? 
But you keep your mouth shut, like you should, if you want to keep eating breakfast in bed, keep wearing silk robes while watching the view of the ocean outside your window.
“So beautiful…you’re like a work of art, the kind no amount of money can buy.” 
That was funny, hilarious even. Enough so to make you cry. 
A familiar face passes by the slightly ajar door to distract you, likely one of the housekeepers leaving for the night. But you swear the man’s figure reminds you of someone from your past, someone you loved and left for good. 
Your husband brings back your attention by placing a gentle kiss to your temple, blindly undoing the clasp of the necklace he bought you.
“I’m so lucky… so lucky to have been the one to catch you, forever. No one could’ve done it, not without what I have.”
He wanted you to kiss and caress back, but sometimes lying still was just enough. It was enough for him to witness you, basking in the glow of everything you wore from him, lying in the Egyptian cotton sheets he paid extra for, your body molded to the diet his personal chefs cooked. 
Even as he pushed a knee between your legs, traveling from your navel to your stomach with open-mouthed sucks and kisses in the rawest form of affection, you couldn’t help but turn your face deep into the pillow. So soft, the soft purple shielding your eyes from his tender gaze.
You might’ve given up love, given up everything familiar and those who you’ve cared for-- but at least you had satin pillows to cry on, and the finest jewelry to wipe your tears with. 
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yanf4iry · 3 days
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oh, my dear wife ♡
wc 2.1k
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husband! alhaitham x afab! reader
modern! au. breast play. fingering. oral (fem). overuse of the words ‘my wife’ but he’s in awe. probably overuse of ‘love’ and ‘darling’ too. lovey dovey alhaitham. ‘love making.’ still slightly teasing alhaitham. subtle breeding kink. afab autonomy. unprotected sex (pls be safe!). pls lmk if anythimg has been missed.
there could be spelling/gramma so pls lmk if there’s anything to be fixed mwah <333
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"my darling," alhaitham spoke gently, coming up behind you, his hands lovingly capsuling around your waist as his chin came down to rest upon your shoulder. "i was thinking of ordering a fish curry and a bottle of wine to our room tonight, rather than going down to the restaurant to eat," he continued, expressing his thoughts to you. "just wanna spend the night alone together."
he nuzzled further against your neck, humming softly in contentment as the feeling of your soft skin brushed against his flushed cheeks. "how does that sound?" he asked, turning you around so you were facing him, "i thought it'd be perfect for our first night together as a married couple."
alhaitham gazed down at you lovingly, the smile on his face unmoveable as he mentioned the fact that you were husband and wife. he proposed to you just over a year ago and ever since he's been beyond eager to finally arrive at the day he can officially call you his wife.
"sounds perfect.." you hum back, enjoying the touch of his warm and firm hands against the curve of your waist.
alhaitham pulled away from you softly, going over to the small desk towards the front door of the extremely fancy hotel room you were staying in for the next 10 days. "so what are you thinking, love?" he asks "red or white?" he continues, referring to the wine he previously spoke about ordering.
"red."
"you read my mind," he grins happily before dialing the restaurant downstairs and requesting room service.
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the night eventually started to pass, and you found yourselves curled up on the sofa; you snuggled against his chest and his arm trailed over your shoulder, slowly getting through that bottle of red wine he had ordered just over an hour ago.
you catch him gazing down at you, a look you could only recognise as awe and admiration. "what?" you giggle, a light blush covering your face as your eyes intertwine in an intense gaze.
"you're gorgeous.." alhaitham mumbled, his gaze not budging from your face. "perfect, even," he continued, rubbing his slender hands against the skin of your upper arm.
"i've never been so thankful to have someone in my life, let alone have the same person as my wife; who i intend to spend forever and always with.."
his words struck a chord in your heart, reddening your cheeks. "getting flustered, are we?" alhaitham chuckled, a little smirk on his face, "well get used to it.." he leans down and whispered in your ear, his hot breath causing a shiver to erupt down your spine "you've got a lifetime of compliments just like it."
after a couple moments of silence, his fingers slowly started to edge towards the hem of your shirt, dipping under it slightly to let his fingertips softly caress the skin of your lower stomach. a small sigh left your lips at the feeling, enjoying the gentle and loving touches he often grazed on your skin.
alhaitham cleared his throat, his hand moving up a little, inching ever so closer to your waist. "you know.. umm.." he started up, amusement laced in his voice, "there's still one honeymoon tradition we've not gotten around to doing yet," he continued, a smirk tugging on his lips; even though you couldn't see it, you knew it was there.
"and what would that be?"
he replied with a small tut, shaking his head playfully. "oh.. don't make me say it," he spoke up "you know what i mean."
"and what would you like me to do about it?" you ask, turning your head a little so your gaze was now meeting his.
"let me take you to bed," alhaitham spoke without hesitation, that same look of admiration he had on his face "if you'd be so kind.."
and with that, you found yourself laid out on the bed you shared, his tall, slim body hovering over yours. he leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, yet passionate kiss; full of need and desire, but most importantly, love.
his hands found their way back to the hem of your shirt, fiddling with it slightly, slowly growing more impatient by the second. alhaitham was always, more often than not, gentle in bed but this felt different; not saying he ever lacked passion, but this felt beyond passionate, beyond loving. it was almost as if he craved to be close to you like his entire being needed it.
"may i take it off?" alhaitham asked gently, tugging at your shirt a little, pulling away from your lips so he could look into your eyes; trying to look for any hint of uncertainty or discomfort, and thankfully, he found none.
you nod in response, a small smile painting your face just before he slowly pulled your shirt over your head. you hadn't been wearing a bra in this moment, i mean, what was the need? you were snuggling on the couch with your husband. a deep breath left his throat as he revealed your bare chest.
"i meant it when i said you were perfect, you know?" alhaitham said, voice sounding genuine. he looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. well, to him, you were. you were his wife and there was nothing more precious than that.
"you're only saying that because you're close to getting me naked," you giggle softly, teasing him subtly.
"getting you naked is always a bonus," alhaitham spoke back, "but i truly do mean it, you're perfect," he added, "my perfect, perfect wife."
his hand raised towards your breasts, gently caressing them as his lips moved down to meet yours; them intertwining in a soft and loving dance. "you're so soft.." he mumbled against your lips, pressing his body up against yours.
you could feel his arousal growing against your thigh, the hard-on in his slacks extremely hard to hide as his hips subconsciously moved to gain some friction. his fingers tips came to enclose around your nipple, gently playing with it, his mouth swallowing your tiny moans; he refused to move his lips from yours, desperate to feel you. "i need you so bad.."
slowly, his kisses started moving from your lips and down to your neck, him taking the time to suck and bite the delicate skin there; however, not harsh enough to leave any marks or bruises, he was often careful as he knew they were a pain to cover. your heartbeat quickens and your breath paces as his soft lips edge ever so closer to your breasts, him eventually taking your nipple in his mouth, hand continuing to nurse the other.
quiet moans left your mouth as he pleasured you further, head tilted back a little. alhaitham's gaze raised a little, locking eyes with yours for a few subtle seconds, smirking slightly at how the smallest of touches always managed to get you going. "perfect.." he whispered out once again, never missing a moment to remind you how truly in awe he was of you.
"alhaitham.. please.." you whine out, grinding against his hips a little, resulting in a gentle grunt escaping his lips.
"does my beautiful wife need me?" he asks, his voice slightly teasing, but he knew you loved it when he was at least a little cocky with you during bed. "does she need me as much as i need her?"
his hands trail down to the waistband of the sleep shorts you were wearing, looking up at you once more in search of the consent for him to move on. without hesitation, once he received your permission of course, he pulled them down revealing your embarrassingly soaked core to him.
alhaitham grunted at the sight, his hand coming to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer towards him, kissing your lips gently, fingers needing at the skin of your waist. "my wife.." he whispers against your lips, "i'll make you feel good, okay?" alhaitham continues, "that's all i ever want to do."
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not even moments later, his wet, warm lips were trailing towards your inner thighs, gently littering kisses everywhere but where you truly needed him. his hands were firmly placed on your hips, fingertips dancing along the miniature stretchmarks there.
a small whimper leaves your lips as his mouth wrapped around your throbbing clit; he was a pleaser, and oh god, was he pleasing you right now. he knew what to do with his tongue without a doubt, exploring your wet folds.
"oh- god.." you whine gently, hand moving to his head, gripping at his soft hair as his mouth worked its wonders. "too good.. s-shit-" you manage to gasp out, hips subtly bucking up against his mouth which only made him chuckle lowly against you.
"like that, my wife?" he mumbles against you before indulging in you for much longer. it wasn't long before you found yourself getting closer to your high, the many noises from your lips getting louder and louder by the second.
"mmhm," you moan out, "just like that."
"are you close, baby?" he whispers against you, fingers teasing your entrance a little, edging two digits inside you, stretching you out making your eyes roll back a little from the overwhelming pleasure. "cum for me, my wife-"
and with that, you were clenching around his fingers as he curved them inside you, brushing up against g-spot with every motion he made, giving you almost no time to process anything before you were cumming against his mouth; legs shaking, and mouth wide open.
"fuck- fuck-" you whimper, legs shaking around his head.
alhaitham's head moved from between your legs, a little smirk on his face as he watched the way your body twitched for him. "let me fill you, darling..." he whispers, hands flying to pull down the slacks he was wearing. "i need to be in you," he continued, revealing his hard cock that was evidently desperate for attention.
"alhaitham please.." you whisper out, watching the way his hand slowly tugged on his length, biting your lip in anticipation. "i need you just as bad."
a gentle moan left your lips, accompanied by a similar noise coming from alhaitham, as he pushed the tip of his cock inside you. "good heavens-" he moans out, hands tightly grasped onto your waist as he pushed himself further inside you, not stopping until he was all the way in.
"tell me when i can move, my love.." alhaitham spoke in a hushed voice, smiling down at you as he watched your face contort in pleasure. "you're doing so well."
after a few short moments, you gave him the clear to start moving, and with the way your wet walls were gripping onto his thick cock, you didn't have to tell him twice.
his thrusts were soft but deep, hitting all the places you need him to be, moans falling from both your lips at the pace of his thrusts. "so good-" alhaitham gasped out, feeling your walls clench around him subconsciously "my perfect, beautiful wife," he gritted out between each movement of his hips.
the tip of his length was pressing up against your cervix every chance it got, making you want to squeal from how good it truly felt. "you're so deep.." you choke out, eyes rolling back and teeth dug tightly into your bottom lip.
"hmm?" alhaitham hums back in response, staring down at you as his thrusts remained the same pace; deep and slow, different to how he usually was. with alhaitham sex was always wild, fast and hard, not because he didn't care but because that's the way you both liked it. he loved making you see stars in the most unimaginable ways, but tonight.. he was soft, passionate and gentle like he was almost scared you'd break. he was pouring every ounce of love and feeling he had into it, making it something completely new.
"do you think im deep enough to get you nice and full with my child, my perfect, pretty wife?" he asks, grabbing a hand full of one of your breasts as he makes the effort to push himself inside you with a little more pressure.
the question made you whimper a little, but it was audibly a few octaves higher because of the shock of hearing it. you'd briefly spoken about possibly having kids before, and alhaitham had always said that he'd like them but it was always your choice, but it's not a topic of discussion that came up a lot so it was a surprise to hear those words come out of his mouth.
"would you like that, darling.." he spoke softly, caressing the skin of your lower stomach. "i know we haven't spoken about it much, but i cant help think about how pretty you'd look pregnant."
"my gorgeous, wonderful, perfect wife, all pregnant just for me."
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in-class-daydreams · 11 hours
Text
cw. a lil age gap, but everyone is well over 18 (Gojo and Reader are ~40, Yuta is ~30)
Imagine the way ex-husband Gojo's eye twitches seeing how Yuta Okkotsu treats you.
You and Yuta had only seen each other in passing over the years. In fact, you never even officially met until he was several years out of school on the account of your innate technique causing Rika to go haywire. So while there was always a possibility of you seeing someone after the divorce, Satoru would never in his wildest dreams have guessed who it'd be. He'd heard through the grapevine that you only started seeing more of each other last year.
Satoru has to see you at the biweekly joint staff meetings between the Tokyo and Kyoto schools, made especially awkward after not one, but two (2) post-divorce make outs. The last time he kissed you while you were fighting, you shoved him away and booted him out of the house using your technique. Granted, you kissed him back, but you're not exactly on great terms right now.
So, it's bad enough that he has to see you as much as he does. Even worse is now that everything's out in the open, he has to watch you fawn over someone that's not him.
"You're so sweet!" you cry when Yuta surprises you during your lunch break with takeout from your favorite restaurant. "Thank you so much, but you really didn't have to do all this for me."
Yuta places a hand on the small of your back and guides you towards the door to the courtyard. Adjusting the picnic blanket slung over his shoulder, he asks, "Why not?"
"It's so much effort," you reply.
"For you? Nothing feels like much effort," Yuta says with a cheeky grin.
Satoru just catches a glimpse of you covering your face with your hand - as you always do when you blush - and then the two of you are out the door. It takes all his effort not to gag at how cheesy that was. Never mind how genuine Yuta looked about it.
Of course Satoru had taken you out for lunch while you were together. All kinds of lunches. Mom and pop shops, food stands, upscale restaurants, you'd done it all. Your new suitor wasn't doing anything for you that he hadn't done.
Suitor. What was this, the 1800's?
Suguru appears at his side while he stares after you.
"Was that Yuta?" he asks. "I'm impressed. He's supposed to be at a week-long training in Ibaraki."
Ibaraki? The prefecture that's over two hours away? He came all this way to have lunch with you?
Alright, Satoru never did that. Not that he wouldn't have! He totally would've if he'd, you know, thought of it.
Suguru seems oblivious to the emotional bomb he just dropped on his best friend. "I'm starving. Let's hurry up and go eat. I'm good with anything except KFC," he complains.
It takes a couple tries to get his attention, but Satoru eventually pulls himself out of his thoughts. He comforts himself with the notion that Yuta would be gone by the time he returned.
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Imagine that while Yuta himself may be absent, his presence damn near haunts ex-husband Gojo to death.
You're already back in the meeting room by the time he and Suguru return from lunch, only you now have a full water bottle (he noticed you pout when you drank the last of it earlier), a sleeve of oreos sticking out of your bag, and a cute travel mug full of some hot drink that you definitely didn't have before.
If Satoru wasn't so preoccupied with insisting to himself that, 'I totally did things like that back in the day!' and provided his ex-wife wasn't the woman in question, he'd be thinking, 'Yuta Okkotsu, I was unfamiliar with your game.'
Even more frustrating is how energetic you look. You have your notes out and are nibbling on an oreo, kicking your feet back and forth as if there's not another two and a half hours left of this meeting.
It's not that Satoru doesn't want you to be happy. Quite the opposite, actually, since he'd gladly give his life if he thought he could guarantee your eternal joy and safety. He's just not sure what Yuta has that he didn't. Or doesn't.
"What does she see in him?" Satoru murmurs to himself later, when a bunch of the staff members go out for drinks. You're at the bar laughing with Yuki and Shoko.
He regrets speaking out loud when Sukuna snorts from behind him.
"How much time do we have?" your coworker says with amusement. He slides into the booth, nursing his sake bomb with ice. It's a travesty of a drink, if you ask Satoru, but to each his own.
"Great, it's my least favorite person," Satoru gripes.
Sukuna seems to take great pleasure in Satoru's misery. "I think Okkotsu's earned himself that title."
Now, Satoru hates the taste of alcohol nor is it ever a good idea for someone constantly using a cursed technique to get drunk, but he can't bring himself to care at the moment.
He snatches the drink from Sukuna's hand and downs the whole thing in one go.
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Imagine how baffled ex-husband Gojo is when his son delivers a cursed artifact to him instead of you.
"Where's your mom?" he asks.
Sen hands over the small box covered in talismans while his best friend, Nao, lingers by the office door. Rolling his eyes, he says, "We had a mission in the area, so Sukuna-sensei had us deliver this."
"Not what I asked you, kid," Satoru replies, leaning back in his chair. He gestures for the boys to have a seat, but neither move.
Nao, who has a tendency to stir the pot if he thinks it'll be funny, pipes up, "She's on vacation for a week."
Since when did you take vacations? And why hadn't he heard of this?
"What's she doing for a whole week?" he asks.
Nao replies. "Okkotsu finished his training and whisked her away to some onsen in Obanazawa."
Sen smirks. "That snowy place that looks like it's from Spirited Away? How romantic."
"Super romantic." Stir, stir, stir, Nao Zen'in.
Sen was not a fan of anyone trying to get close to his mom. He'd seen how the divorce hurt you, but so far, Yuta worshipped the ground you walked on, so Sen was at least willing to not be too hostile towards him if it meant antagonizing his father.
Sen and his friend quickly say their goodbyes and head out to do whatever it is high school boys do. Once they're gone, Satoru pulls out his phone and searches 'onsen obanazawa.' The results show Ginzan Onsen, a place with traditional Japanese architecture with a beautiful snowy landscape. But according to the reviews, though a wonderful and charming place, it wasn't from the best onsen in Japan. He wants to scoff at the fact that his supposed 'replacement' chose anything but the best for you, but then he sees where Obanazawa is, which is in Yamagata prefecture.
Where you grew up. Where you and Satoru met.
How had it never occurred to him to bring you back there?
When he mopes on Suguru's couch later that evening, he tells his best friend the whole story. Suguru's delicate features are twisted into a grimace the whole way through.
"Why are you making such an ugly face?" Satoru asks miserably.
"I've never been ugly a moment of my life, Satoru."
"You know what I mean."
Suguru sighs and clicks his tongue. "They're not official?"
"So she keeps saying."
Though reluctant to kick his friend while he's down, Suguru decides that Satoru needs to know so he can mentally prepare himself.
"He's taking her on a romantic trip to a beautiful resort in her home prefecture. They may not be official now, but after a trip like that, there's no way she's coming back without a label. Hell, if they were official, she'd most likely be coming back with a ring."
Hearing that, Satoru contemplates finding a nice spot in the cursed artifact archive and falling into a coma for at least the next thousand years.
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The plot McThickens
Find the other installments of this AU [here] | Find the #gojo sentaro lore [here] | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]
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theotherbuckley · 2 days
Text
Tommy’s dad dies on a Monday.
He checks his emails on a Wednesday. There’s an email from his aunt. It’s only a few sentences. She was always very succinct and to the point.
His dad is dead.
It was a heart attack.
Bastard didn’t even suffer. 
He stares at his laptop screen until the words start to blur together. For an hour, he just sits there, looking at his computer but not really seeing anything at all. His coffee is long since cold. He never even took a sip. 
His mind feels empty, like there’s this fog that’s settled inside, clouding over his thoughts. He’s stuck. His brain doesn’t know how to process this, and neither does his body.
So he stays frozen. Just staring.
He doesn’t notice the time until he feels large arms wrap around him from behind.
“Tommy?” Evan asks. It doesn’t sound like the first time he’s spoken.
“I—“ The words are stuck in his throat. 
Tommy turns around from his chair, blinking a few times, until he manages to say, “My dad died.”
“Are you okay?”
That’s all it takes for Tommy to break.
He opens his mouth, closes. Shakes his head. 
And he just—
Cries.
Full body-wracking sobs overcome his body as he slumps into Evan’s open arms. He shakes, tears streaming down his cheeks as he burrows his face into his boyfriend’s neck. He’s getting snot and tears all over Evan’s shirt but his boyfriend doesn’t complain, just squeezes him tighter as he continues to be overwhelmed by his emotions.
He doesn’t even know why he’s crying. He just can’t seem to stop. 
He cries and trembles in Evan’s arms until he’s run out of tears left to shed. Evan murmurs sweet nothings into his ear, holding him tight and never letting go. 
“I’ve got you. I'm here,” Evan whispers in his ear. 
He feels like he’s run a marathon by the time he’s calmed down enough to pull back from Evan. His hands shake as he wipes the tears from his eyes, Evan’s own warm hands coming to hold his. 
“I don’t— I don’t even know why I’m cry—crying,” Tommy hiccups. He’s sure he must look a mess, red-faced and covered in tears.
Evan gives me a soft look, a small comforting smile on his face as he presses a kiss to Tommy’s forehead.
“You lost your dad. You’re allowed to cry,” Evan says kindly.
Tommy just shakes his head. “But he wasn’t— he wasn’t good.” He has an awful, vile human who never gave two shits about him. Only cared about him being a man, enlisting, stepping up. He doesn't understand why his chest still aches like his loss matters. It doesn't. It doesn't.
Evan wraps his arms around Tommy. He’s practically sitting on him, but Tommy doesn’t mind. Not when it’s Evan.
“He— He was a big part of your life, Tommy,” Evan says, running his fingers through Tommy’s hair. “And now he’s not. You’re allowed to be upset.”
Tommy just nods, collapsing back into Evan, who rubs gentle circles on his back in comfort, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He lets his boyfriend soothe his pain with his touch. He wishes it didn't hurt in the first place. Still doesn't understand why it does. He hated that piece of shit.
He's glad he's dead.
He hiccups as another tear makes it's way down his cheek. Evan squeezes tighter.
“Is there a funeral?” Evan asks softly.
Tommy almost laughs. “There’s no one who cares enough to give him one. He doesn’t even deserve one.”
“But you do,” Evan says sincerely.
That gets Tommy to look up, eyebrows raised in question.
“You deserve to have the closure,” Evan continues. “It’s a lot better than trying to pretend you’re alright when you're not. Trust me.”
“You lost someone?” Tommy asks. Evan’s never talked about it, but maybe—
“No, no. I just know what it feels like to— to bottle your emotions up when it comes to the people who are supposed to love you.”
“I’ll speak to my aunt about a funeral,” Tommy says. Evan gives him a soft smile and a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling him close again, Tommy wasting no time to burrow into the corner of Buck’s neck, soaking up the comfort of his boyfriend.
“I love you,” he murmurs into his shoulder.
“I love you,” Evan repeats back. 
363 notes · View notes
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fwb Art who's absolutely in love with you and obsessed with you and who asked to be your boyfriend many times and taking you on many dates but you kept rejecting until one day he gets to know that you're going on a date with someone else so he tries to stop thay date from happening and showing you who you belong to by having the most passionate sex and finally convincing you to accept you as your boyfriend
you can say you don't want this to be Stanford Art but it is.
You've turned him down so many times. But you can't stay away from him. The way he kisses you, the way he touches you. You're needy for him but you know that you can't be in a relationship with him. He's not good for you, not good for you to be distracted. You're not exactly the dating type and Art is almost ready to be a husband. All your friends think you're insane, you know that they're ready to settle down but we're too young and you want to be carefree for just a while. Art is also so very nice, and sweet and kind and you don't want to hurt him when you inevitable self destruct. You rationalise it to protect yourself, it would be like torturing a puppy. You don't want to waste his time and effort. You're doing this for him.
But you can't keep yourself away from Art. You always end up at his door at the end of the night, and he's so obsessed with you, he'll never tell you no. He just makes you cups of tea and cuddles you and keeps you warm. Giving you everything that you want, whenever you want it. "We're just friends with benefits." You tell him and repeat to yourself and Art nods his head as if to say "i know." He invites you to the bar with him, says Patrick and his new girlfriend will be there but they always seem to mysteriously cancel. Patrick was either the worst friend or just didn't exist. "This is not a date Art." He gets you both drinks. He gives you the "i know" nod, slightly hurt, given you a face, slightly like you've stood on a puppys paw. Art asks to be your boyfriend a lot. And you know that you should cut him off and let him go but you can't help yourself. It's like you and Art are magnets or somehow cosmetically intertwined.
Art walks up to you and your friends standing talking. It kills him because he wants to wrap his hands around you like he did in his bed last night. But because you're just fuck buddies, he can't kiss you. He's not even sure if your friends know that you've been seeing each other for the last while. You try to ignore him as you're continuing the conversation as one of your friends starts speaking to him. "Do you know where youre going? and more importantly, what are you wearing?"
Art's ears perk up at the conversation and you try and ignore him again. "I think we're just going for drinks, nothing special." You say softly. "and then back to his? I'm so jealous, he's so fucking hot. I can't believe he just asked you out." You tried to hold back a wince when she said it. You didn't mean for Art to find out about it, at all. Definitely didn't want him to find out like this. He didn't say anything. You didn't want to look at him and you didn't know when he was looking at you. "You should wear that black dress you wore a few weeks ago... and those boots, you'd look so hot!" Your friend continued but you had already withdrawn from the conversation. You knew that outfit worked because Art wanted to take you to the nearest empty room when he saw you wearing it. "I'll text you later, let you know how it goes." You left the conversation. Art stood, making small talk with your friends.
It was around half past 8 when you were getting ready. You were stupidly nervous. You didn't really go on dates, especially with people you didn't know. And you hadn't heard from Art all day long which made you nervous. You didn't want to hurt Art, you didn't know if Art was hurt. He was sensitive so you could only assume that he was sulking in his room. There was a knock at your door as finished fixing your make up. You looked at yourself in the mirror before answering the door. "Hi Art, what are you doing here?" He looked at your face for a moment before letting your eyes gaze over your body. Your curvy hips and cleavage was on show, dress hitting just above your thighs. Art thought you looked perfect. "Are you not going to invite me in?" Art smiled at you. "uhh... actually I'm just getting ready to go out." You were confused. Had he not heard the conversation earlier? You watched him as he followed you into your room. "Yeah, I know... I just thought I could convince you to stay here." He was being very confident, somewhat dominant which he normally isn't it. "Art, cmon." He sat on the bed as he watched you putting your earring in. "Cmon what?" You stood in front of him as he ran his hands on the outside of your thigh. "tell me, you don't want to cancel on him and stay here with me." You were biting your lip as he touched your thighs. "Art..." His hands rubbed up your body to your hips as he pulled you closer, separating his legs, allowing you to stand in between them.
He starts by kissing your stomach. He looks up at you as he pulls your dress up your thighs slowly, his kiss moving slowly down your body. "You know he can't make you feel as good as I can..." he continued to kiss down your body before placing his kiss on your underwear. Your hands were in his hair, rubbing his head, encouragingly. He started to pull you down your underwear as he guided you to the bed. "Art, he's going to be here soon." He just smiled as he started kissing your neck and his hands started rubbing your clit, dipping his fingers into you as you moan against him. "Good, he can hear how good I make you feel." He started to bite at your collar bone, trying to leave a mark. "Artttt..." you almost moaned. "Thats it, say my name, say who you belong to." He moved his fingers faster until you were begging for him to fuck you. Art was really playing a very good game, making you moan, making you a mess underneath him. "You're so good." He swiftly moved his boxers down and allowed his cock to bounce free as he rubbed it against your wetness. He started to push himself inside of you, inch by inch as you moaned. He kissed your mouth, passionately before moving his kiss back to your neck, down to your chest where he pulled your dress down so your breasts were exposed. He started sucking, licking and biting on your nipples as he slammed into you. "Art, fuck I'm gonna cum." You moaned as he quickened his pace. "That's it, good girl, cum on my cock, cum for me, you're all mines." He moaned as he switched between kissing you and playing with your nipples. "you're so good, fuck, you feel so good." He couldn't stop as he started to fill you the second you let your orgasm go. He continued to kiss you and move the hair out of your face. "You're literally so gorgeous." He whispered in your ear as he held his cock inside of you. "when are you finally going to admit that you were made for me?" he kissed your neck. You sighed. "Art, you know..." Art kissed you again. "Don't do this, whatever your worries are about me, we can do it, together. I want you. All of you and you want me, very clearly." He kept your gaze as he held you. "It's all of me or none of me, I'm not playing seconds." The words hurt you and you got a brief moment to think about this being the last time, that the other option was no Art in your life. "I'm happy to wait." He pulled himself away and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
You were alone for just a moment. You didn't want you and Art to be over. But you thought you knew how you felt, what you wanted but everything Art said and did, just made your heart hurt. You wanted him. You needed him. When you thought he was mad at you, you felt weak and now he's here. Saying it's him or nothing. You thought you had the power, always telling him no to a relationship but being faced without Art, you didn't want to do it. The thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Shit. Your date. This was your sink of swim moment.
Art popped his head out of the bathroom. "should i hide in the bathroom or tell him to go away?" Art was topless looking down at you with just his boxer shorts on. "Tell him to go away, then take your shorts back off?" His face almost lit up. "So you're finally gonna be my girl?" You smirked at him and rolled your eyes. "I'm all yours Donaldson."
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yuurei20 · 3 days
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I heard from someone that Azul is actually very strong although he's not very athletic because he's an octo merman he's mostly muscle they said that Floyd has talked about it in bean fest I wanted to know if Azul being insanely strong was just a headcannon or cannon cause its kinda funny to me azul could carry professor vargas that one event on his own when prof vargas is pure muscle
Hello hello! Thank you for this question! 🐙
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Yes yes! The first information we receive about Azul being stronger than he looks is from Floyd during Beanfest, who explains,
"Who said anything about Azul bein' weak without his magic? He's real strong. He's slow on land and in water, and he's got lousy athletic reflexes, but that doesn't mean he's weak."
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"Azul's bigger than me in the water, and he's got eight huge, heavy limbs. His submission holds are bad news, and he's got crazy grip strength. If he so much as snags you, he can snare you with your arms pinned.
Octopi are, like, all muscle. Seems to me like that wouldn't go poof just 'cause he took a potion to turn himself human.
I'm just spitballin' here, obviously. But all I'm saying is that writing Azul off is a bad idea."
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(All of the above dialogue is 100% accurate to the original game! Floyd's "I'm just spitballin' here" line might make it seems like he is just guessing and doesn't actually know, but his original line is closer to, "I don't know all the details," and sounds more like he knows this information is fact, he just can't give a physiology lesson on how it all works.)
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But Floyd's information is a little vague: he says Azul has "crazy grip strength" and his "submission holds are bad news," but that is the same line where he talks about Azul in his merform--so is he talking about mer-Azul or human-Azul? Or is he not making a distinction because there isn't one?
Can Azul snare people and pin them down on land, or was Floyd half-relating an anecdote from when they lived underwater?
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But then came Book 6 and a line from Azul himself saying that his "arms are quite powerful," unlike Riddle's.
This seems to confirm that Azul is physically stronger than most people, but then comes the thunder spear:
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Riddle asks for help lifting it and Azul struggles under its weight, despite how this would have been the ideal opportunity to illustrate how physically capable Azul really is.
But maybe the thunder spears are a tall order for anyone to lift? They're weapons from the age of the gods--maybe they just weren't designed for humans (or creatures in human form) to lift on their own?
Except:
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There is Leona, who both lifts and wields the thunder spear entirely on his own, twice (he gets help from Jamil the third time).
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But the rules of the thunder spears are unclear: after Team-OctaHearts' spear goes into energy-saving mode Riddle says, "I should be able to handle it now on my own," insinuating that when they are not in attack-mode they are easier to wield.
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Azul carries it at first but, due to his infamously poor stamina, he does eventually give it up to Riddle.
When Azul comments on how easy RIddle makes carrying the spear look Riddle explains, "I spend most of my time learning magic. I have ever since I was born," insinuating that he is using a form of magic (perhaps levitation) to carry it and maybe does not have it physically in his arms at all.
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(Vil explains that the spears are difficult to control in attack-mode due to the amount of energy they give off.)
And that asks questions about levitation that I have always wondered about!
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During Glorious Masquerade Epel is only capable of carrying one crate of apples at a time.
When Malleus levitates an entire apple truck Epel comments, "I'm pretty sure only Malleus could pull off a feat like that…"
Are levitation and physical strength connected? Malleus says that he is physically stronger than humans even without his magic, so he does not serve as a good example.
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Is Epel only capable of levitating one crate of apples because that is the limit of what he would be able to accomplish physically? Or do his magical limitations mirror his physical limitations by coincidence?
We know that Leona is extremely powerful (re: Leona's Power). Is Leona both physically stronger than an octopus mermaid and magically stronger than Azul, or is Azul physically stronger than Leona, but his magic wasn't enough for the spear?
And then there is the fact that Azul is, magically, extremely strong:
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Jade comments that Azul's unique magic is too strong for even him to control (which is why he designed the golden contracts--to artificially rein himself in). Does that apply to all of Azul's magic, or is it just his UM?
Someone with the muscle of an octopus and a magic too strong to be wielded by its own user seems like they should be able to control a thunder spear on their own--but maybe Leona is just that strong? 🦁
To the original question:
Yes! It is canon that Floyd has said that Azul is insanely strong, and Azul himself has repeated it, but--
edit:
Ahhh thank you very much to the anonymous asker who mentioned Azul's Tapis Rouge vignette! 🥳 In-game example of Azul flexing his physical strength!!📝
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And thank you to @basuralindo for the reference to Azul prying Stitch off of the prefect! 🐙 (Azul: "You might've thwarted my efforts entirely if we hadn't been underwater.")
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And thank you again to @basuralindo and @mellosdrawings for the Vargas Camp references!! 📝
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In a vignette we have Azul volunteering to carry a load of wood for Kalim. He pretends to be struggling under the weight in order to leave a lasting impression of his efforts, but as we cannot tell how much wood there is that he is hauling it can be difficult to tell how heavy it truly is--but then there is Vargas👀
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At Trey's request, Jade and Azul are assigned the task of evacuating a bound Grim and Vargas from the mine. Jade takes Grim and runs away, leaving Azul behind alone with the prefect to handle Vargas--did he know that Azul would not struggle with carrying him?💪
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Azul does ask for the prefect's help, but only because he is worried about bumping Vargas' head against the rocks--he does not say anything about struggling to carry him!
And this sounds very similar to a comment from Malleus on carrying Idia and Azul through the narrow stairwells of the bell tower during Glorious Masquerade! 🐉🐙
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m3l0nfl0at · 2 days
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just thinking about you - s. gojo
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Gojo Satoru x GN! Reader ; ANGST, hurt/comfort, spoilers for non manga readers, happy ending, swearing, 1.3k words, GOJO STANS WE UP BCOS HES COMING BACK TODAY!!
summary ; GOJO COMEBACK BCOS I SAID SO
melon’s recommended melody ; little freak - harry styles
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Ever since the day Satoru died, you wanted nothing to do with Jujutsu society. Why would you want anything to do with the society who sold your partner as a mere weapon and nothing more. If it wasn’t for them putting all the pressure on him, maybe he would still be here with you, in your arms. You wonder if there was anything you did wrong leading up to the fight. Maybe not telling him you loved him enough, that he wasn’t just the strongest to you, or telling him to give up Jujutsu society altogether after the multiple incidents with Geto. However, that’s just you being selfish, you knew Gojo wanted to change the society he grew up in and who were you to stop him.
You remember the day he left so vividly, teleporting you to some strange city only to tell you to stay. He caressed your face repeating that he wanted nothing bad to happen to you and this was the only way to keep you safe. That whole night you spent the day in each other’s arms, repeating to him that he was going to win. To which he made a snarky comment saying, he would never lose to an asshole who calls himself “The King of Curses”. You remember that night an ugly feeling in your stomach settled and never went away. If you had to put your finger on it, you think you could call it anxiety. Anxiety, that if Satoru did come back, would he come back as the same person you knew and loved?
What would happen if he killed Sukuna and wasn’t able to save Megumi? Could he live with himself? Would he be able to sleep at night knowing he couldn’t save one of his students? Who was to say Satoru is guaranteed a win to begin with? You had to hold on to a string of false hope that Satoru would be able to defeat someone as strong as Sukuna. Not even letting your brain allow the option to think negatively at a time like this. So that morning you really cemented it into his brain that he will win and he’ll come back to you safe and sound. It was the only thing you could do. In this moment you wish you were a strong Jujutsu Sorcerer like himself. So you could possibly fight beside him, give him a fighting chance but you barely made it to be a grade one sorcerer.
Satoru reassured you saying that he was the strongest, nothing was going to go wrong and he would come back to you unharmed. As he warped back to where the fight was, you went to lie in bed. Not allowing yourself to think about anything else but Satoru winning. Yet, day turned into night and night turned into days. No one called to reassure you he was fine. You thought maybe he’s staying back to make sure his students were okay before making his way to you. Satoru was always one to arrive late for an event but he never once arrived late for anything pertaining to you. A couple of days pass by, as you look at your phone to see Shoko calling you. Your heart drops, palms are sweating, and your knees feel shaky. You were hesitant to answer, Gojo never said Shoko would call you if he won, hell Gojo said he would be with you after he won. So where is he, he won right? He had to have won, winning is in his birthright!
Answering that call was the worst decision of your life, Shoko told you how she had Satoru’s body and intended to use it. She explained the plan, how Gojo agreed to let Yuta use his body. You felt angry at Satoru for not explaining that he had enough doubts to the point where he had to make a backup plan.
Sick to your stomach that he could let himself get used like that beyond his death? What about what you wanted for him, what about how you wanted him here to properly grieve him. You hung up the call on Shoko not wanting to hear anything else, Satoru is dead. Not only did he lose but he left you here with no one, nothing in this stupid city he teleported you to. You walked out of the building, seeing the snow fall, feeling bitterness seep into you. How dare life go on without Satoru Gojo. You balled up the cold snow in your bare hands wanting to feel something, whether it be the cold or the burn in your hand from how freezing the ice was. Yet nothing came, you let go seeing your hand red and red is what you were seeing. “I hate you Satoru Gojo! I hope you hear that up there! How could you do this to me! How could you leave me here alone!” Feeling the cold hit your face as you scream into the wind. You didn’t move, feeling the cold nip at your body that was hot with anger.
After that day, you realized you couldn’t change anything. No outcome could bring Satoru back to you. In this cruel world the only thing you can do after one dies, is live on. You got numerous calls from Shoko choosing to ignore every single one. What could she possibly tell you that would make you feel better? Going outside to watch the snow melt away, hugging your knees. You hoped someone beat “The King of Curses” ass. That bastard had taken Satoru away from you, you’d hope he’d burn in hell. Snapping out of your thoughts when you heard the snow crunching from down the road. You turn around quickly wielding your cursed tool, the worst it could be was a curse but it’s not like you couldn’t handle it. At this point you really couldn’t care if you died, maybe dying would make you feel something you haven’t felt in days.
“Woah, no need to wield your tool!”, you freeze knowing that voice from anywhere. Your frozen state soon turns to anger wanting to kill whatever curse this was playing with you. Not yielding, he steps closer as you slice your tool downward warning whatever that was to not come any closer to you. “Stop right there, whatever you are!”, you have to remind yourself that he was dead. That’s not him, it can’t be, Satoru puts up his hands. “You know if you answered Shoko’s calls you would know I was coming.”, Satoru glances at you but it was no use. Knowing there was nothing more he could say, he lifts up his shirt showing you the scar where his body was cut in half. You falter, he sees your eyes soften just a bit. “Only I know you’re here, I teleported you here. I made sure no curses were in this area before taking you here.”, you drop your tool. Still feeling hesitant, debating if you were dreaming or Satoru was actually in front of you.
“I’m dreaming, the cold finally got to my head. You’re not here Satoru, you’re dead, you’ve been dead. Oh my god, I've got to get out of this town, I’m going crazy.” You cover your face with your hands, rubbing your eyes as hard as you could. Shit, maybe you need to get more sleep because you will not allow yourself to hallucinate like this. Feeling his hands peel your hands off your face, you start tearing up. “I’m here, I’m real.”, you shake your head not believing that this is real. “Am I dead? Is this heaven?”, Satoru laughs, pulling you into a hug. You feel the rumbling in his chest as you lay against it. “I didn’t win or come back unharmed but I told you I would come back to you, didn’t I?”, you allow yourself to feel this moment, scared that this was all a dream. If this was a dream you hoped to never wake up. Wanting to hold onto him forever after almost losing him for good. “I’m here, I’m not leaving anytime soon. I promise.”
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divider credit to @/vase-of-lilies, @/bunnysrph, and @/thecutestgrotto
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ melon's marginalia: idc what happens later today, hes back bcos i said so
@m3l0nfl0at on tumblr. All Rights Reserved. Do not steal, copy, or translate any of my works.
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Text
The fight was ugly. The first fight that you and Eddie had turned from a quiet disagreement to a full blown yelling match.
Truthfully you couldn't remember what the fight was actually about. Something silly, something miniscule that turned into a big thing.
A big argument with some horrible things said; you still couldn't get Eddie's words out of your head.
"Why would this mean anything? It's just sex isn't it?" Eddie snapped and your heart broke into a million tiny pieces. Just sex. Right. Of course that's what you two were.
Truthfully you were a mess and you should have just gone straight back home after storming out of the trailer.
Eddie has tried to go after you but you were faster and ran before he could catch up with you.
Instead you bumped into a few of your friends and hitched a ride to some party that one of Jason Carver's friends were throwing. Robin noticed your tear streaked cheeks and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.
She was the only one of your friends who knew about Eddie; maybe Steve as well as him and Robin were as thick as thieves. Like platonic soulmates or something.
You and Eddie got together two months ago, passing off the hook ups as just mind-blowing sex and that worked at first. That's until you begun to get to know Eddie better and the two of you spent more time together.
Eddie was easy to fall in love with. His reputation portrayed him as mean and scary, satan obsessed and someone people should stay away from.
He was none of those things, he was kind and fiercely loyal to his friends and uncle, he was passionate and badass and really it was no surprise that you fell in love with him.
At least now you know that he doesn't feel the same way, at least you found out now before it was too late and you were even more in love with him than you are now.
Maybe you could just hang with your friends and forget the words that had broken your heart tonight.
At least you hoped that was possible.
❤️
Fuck, you really should have went home. Your head was pounding, the two beers you had made you even more anxious and upset. To make matters worse Tyler Harvey wouldn't leave you alone, he had zeroed in on you from the second you had walked through the door.
As much as you tried to avoid him, he followed you around and it was beginning to give you the creeps.
He manages to corner you when you're trying to get up to the bathroom with Robin. He stinks of beer, smoke and sweat and it turns your stomach a little bit.
Leather, smoke and the hints of woods and musk were your favourite scents in the world right now and that had to do with the man you were trying not to think about.
You cringe away from Tyler but he's so drunk that he doesn't seem to notice, he moves closer to you and you instinctively step back.
"Can you move please? Robin and I need to go upstairs" you ask him but he doesn't appear to be listening.
"Aww why don't you come upstairs with me? I'll take care of you" Tyler smirks but you don't like the look in his eyes and immediately step away from him. Yeah...no thanks. Robin is at your side at once and glares at Tyler.
"Take the hint asshole. She's not interested" Robin gently guides you away but Tyler grabs your arm at the same time and you stumble, landing hard on the floor. It knocks the wind out of you and your body throbs from the contact with the floor.
Tyler scrapers from the scene without even checking to see if you're alright. Robin is cursing out Tyler and helps you up. You're sore, annoyed and just want to go home.
Steve appears out of nowhere and Robin mentions that she called Steve when you mentioned you were getting a migraine. Relief fills you, at least you could go to Steve's for a little while and try and salvage some of the night with him and Robin.
There's a tiny voice inside of you that is aching for Eddie and it's growing stronger. You dismiss the idea, you're sure that Eddie was glad to be rid of you. That thought caused a new throbbing ache in your chest and you hurried outside with Steve and Robin determined not to think about Eddie and his big brown eyes.
❤️
As soon as you're at Steve's he puts in a movie and you settle up on the couch with Robin while Steve makes snacks. Being here is soothing and you rest your head on Robin's
Steve's landline ringing breaks you out of your sleep, Steve hurries to answer it and your heart skips a beat when you realise it's Eddie.
"Yeah, yeah dude she's with me and Robin. Some shit went down at a party we were at... Oh that asshole friend of Jason was being a prick. Yeah Tyler is it? Woah calm down man, she's fine. She's just tired"
You get up which is a little tricky as the sudden movement makes your migraine feel ten times worse but you really want to speak to Eddie.
Steve passes the phone over to you and you smile a tiny bit as Eddie is still ranting about what he wants to do to Tyler.
"Eddie, I'm okay" you murmur and he stops his rant and breathes a sigh of relief.
"Sweetheart. Fuck, I've been so worried princess. I went to your house, then Family Video. I even dropped around Wheeler's house which was a shock for Mama Wheeler to see if you were there. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I was a butthead"
The ache in your chest subsides a little bit and you relax. "I'm sorry too. I'm really sorry" tears spill down your cheeks and it's cathartic to finally let them out.
"I'm going to come and pick you up Kay? I'm not going to relax until I see that you're okay. I'll see you in about ten minutes okay?"
The tension you're feeling begins to disappear and you wait for Eddie to arrive, thanking Robin and Steve for being so amazing tonight.
True to his word Eddie arrives as quickly as he says he would and gives Steve and Robin a quick nod in greeting, he immediately pulls you close to him.
His lips press against hair and he briefly talks to Steve before guiding you out the door and into his van.
You're so exhausted from the nights escapades that you're asleep instantly.
❤️
When you wake up you're in Eddie's bed, Eddie is laying beside you and reading Lord of the Rings - The Two Towers. When he realises you're awake he presses his lips to your forehead and he tucks the covers around you, cuddles up at your side and holds you close.
"I'm sorry I was such a dickhead. You have no idea how much you mean to me, you mean everything to me and I was so scared to tell you. So I lashed out and said stupid shit. Things I didn't mean"
There's something unspoken hanging in the air, a familiar tension that's been playing the two of you for a little while now.
"I thought that you were sick of me and that's why you said those things" you confess and play with a start thread on his plaid shirt.
Eddie's jaw drops and he's silent for a moment, "Princess how could you even think that? You're...shit, I've never felt this way about anyone and it's terrifying trying to think of the right words, wondering if you feel the same way" he pauses as he lets the words sink in.
He's blushing, restless and anxious as his eyes meet yours; You sit up and cup Eddie's cheek with your hand.
"How do you feel about me Eddie?" It feels pretty certain now but you'd like to make sure. You'd like to hear him say it.
"I'm in love with you princess. How can you not see that? I guess I was just scared to tell you because I'm not exactly the perfect guy am I?" He scoffs as he says this and you scowl at the way his eyes turn sad.
"I don't care about that Eddie. Who wants perfect? I don't. I think you're amazing and handsome, you're sweet and kind, a gentleman. You make my heart skip a beat when you look at me and I feel at ease and content when I'm with you" his fingers entwined with yours and he sighs.
"You know so many people think I'm a freak, normally I don't give a fuck but I do care what others think about you" you soften and press gentle kisses over his cheek, the action causes him to smile shyly and his tense body relaxes.
"Eddie I don't give a shit what anyone says or thinks. Are you going to give us up just because of some idiots who don't matter? The only people that matter in this relationship are you and me. I love you Eddie, I'm so in love with you"
He looks up at you stunned and then he kisses you fiercely, "No I'm not giving us up. I love you sweetheart so much. You're my girl and I'm not letting you go because of some dumb assholes opinion"
The two of you spend the rest of the night making up and when you're tucked up in Eddie's arms as he falls asleep, you're left with the gentle feeling of this being where you're meant to be.
This trailer, Eddie's room, his arms around you as his soft snores fill the air. The sound of the wind blowing against the windows as you're lulled to sleep.
This felt like home.
💕
I get to love you
It's the best thing that I'll ever do
I get to love you
It's a promise I'm making to you
Whatever may come, your heart I will choose
Forever I'm yours, forever I do
I get to love you, I get to love you.
I Get To Love You- Ruelle
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rosenclaws · 1 day
Note
Logan Howlett x gn!reader who’s not a mutant, but has a very high precognitive sense (in which they can sense when a ball might hit someone and catch it without looking / or anything similar to the matter heh)
warnings: gn!reader, the reader is crazy flirty with logan, some drunk assholes being dicks, it gets a little suggestive idk how I keep doing this.
a/n: Okay i can’t lie i was struggling a little bit coming up with an idea but i did my best. Shout out to @huffle-punk for helping me ily bitch
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Logan was no stranger to seedy bars. In fact he might call them his home away from home. He just needed an out. A place that actually served alcohol for once. The mansion was nice and all but sometimes the man needed a drink. So he hopped on his motorcycle and rode for a while until he stumbled upon some hole in the wall.
He scoped out the bar as soon as he walked in. Taking note of everyone who was there. It was mostly dead. Some loud assholes by the darts and a few people sitting in the booths but that's about it. He was naturally alert. His kind weren’t always welcome in places like these.
“What can I get for you?" The bartender nods towards him as he sits on one of the bar stools. Logan takes out a 20 and hands it to the guy.
"You got Molson Ex?" The guy nods and cracks one open for him.
"Whiskey sour please." A voice next to him says.
He glances over to see you standing at the bar. Now that peeks his interest. You look too good to be here in a place like this. You catch his glance and smirk.
"Never seen you here before." You take the seat next to him. He was a stranger for sure but a very good looking one. Logan cocks an eyebrow before taking another sip of his beer.
"Not a talker huh handsome?"
"You always this forward with strangers?" Logan asks, slightly amused by your flirting.
"Only when they're hot. You should be flattered."
The bartender comes back with your drink and before you can pay Logan gestures to put it on his tab. You take a sip of your drink and set it down close to his beer. Logan turns his body towards you, letting you see just how built this man was. You bite your lip as you shamelessly look him up and down.
"You got somewhere to be?" Logan asks a playful smirk on his lips.
"Nope."
You don't know how much time has passed since you started talking to Logan. He was one of those mysterious brooding guys, not even a last name as you flirt up a storm. That's okay, you don't need to know his last name. The space between you two got smaller and smaller as the night went on. Moving away from the barstools to the back of the room. More hidden, more private. His hands have found their way to your back. Holding you close as he leans in close.
"Logan..." You hum as you trail your hand up his chest. Gently grabbing onto his shirt. You roll your eyes as the group of guys by the darts start to get rowdier. The more alcohol they have in them the more obnoxious they get.
"We should get out of here." He hums, he registers your words but he doesn't move. Instead leaning closer, his lips ghosting your jaw as he gently nips below your ear.
You body tenses as your hand shoots out before you can even think, catching the dart that was heading directly for Logan's neck. Logan looks at you in slight confusion. How you managed to react so quickly.
"Hey assholes!" You slip out from Logan's arms and march over to them.
"Watch where you're fucking throwing these things." You throw the dart on the table.
"Or what?" One them gets up, he's not as intimidating as he thinks but he's clearly drunk. You roll your eyes and turn to leave. A hand grabs your wrist harshly and pulls you back. In a flash Logan is by your side. Practically ripping the guys hand off you and pushing him into the table.
"Don't fucking touch 'em bub." Logan growls.
Your eyes widen as you see metal peek out from his knuckles. He's a mutant. The drunk guys scramble away from him. You tug on Logan's arm. Noticing stares from the rest of the people, fear in their eyes. "Come on," He sheathes his claws and looks around. Wordlessly he storms out of the bar with you hot on his heels. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a cigar, letting out a small groan as he lights it.
"You alright?" Logan asks, noticing that you've followed him out.
"Yeah I'm okay. Are you?" He takes another puff of his cigar and nods.
"Those are some crazy reflexes."
"Yeah, I don't know I've just always had them but I'm not a..." You trail off as you become unsure if you should say anything.
"A mutant?" He finishes for you. He laughs, shaking his head as he gets on his motorcycle.
"Wait Logan! I, I like you and I'm sorry those assholes ruined our night but I don't want it to end." You place your hand on top of his.
It's been flirty, fun, casual up until now but there's a clear attraction that you can't ignore, you don't want to ignore it.
"You sure you can handle a mutant?" Your hand jerks away as his claws come out. Oh that's how he wants to play it.
"I can handle some kitty claws Logan," You tease, running your fingers along his claws.
"The real question is, can you handle me?"
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hiraethwrote · 1 day
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loner megumi x popular reader masterlist cw: f!reader, aged up characters, college au, fluff, slight alcohol mention, no use of y/n word count: 1k
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There was an unspoken rule in your relationship — passenger princess gets to choose the music. It just so happened that you were the princess 90% of the time. You were more than capable of driving, you just preferred being able to lay your head back, scroll your phone meaninglessly and sing blissfully along to the music.
And though you never said it out loud, you also just preferred your own music — you and Megumi had vastly different preferences in what you listened to. It wasn’t that he had bad taste in music or anything, but his playlist just did not align with the vibes you wanted when on the road.
It mostly consisted of obscure artists who had less than 100 000 monthly listeners or some indie band that you always thought fit best for simply chilling on late summer evenings… Weezer for example, which was someone Megumi had introduced you to.
So while your upbeat music bounced within the car, you subtly glanced over at him to see if there was any frustration resting on his features. If he was fed up with your music, then he did a terrific job of hiding it.
But once every blue moon, Yuji managed to force convince Megumi to join him for a few drinks — with a little help from you, of course.
“Go have fun, babe, and I’ll pick you up when they’re heading out.” He gave you a sad look, hoping for sympathy while he played with your fingers. After a few moments of deliberation, his head slowly started to nod, though he wasn’t too excited about it. He would rather just stay in with you, but you thought it did him good to hang out with someone who wasn’t you.
Three hours later, you were stood outside Yuji’s dormitory complex, watching as Megumi hurried out of the building with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. Once inside the car, he instantly leaned towards you to receive the mandatory kiss whenever you reunited.
“Have fun?” You asked, slowly backing out of the driveway while he pulled out his phone to connect it to the car stereo.
“‘S alright,” he sighed, attention locked on his phone.
“They were going out, right?”
“Yeah, they tried to convince me to ask you to drive.”
“Oh, I could have given them a ride-“
“No, you couldn’t,” he pouted. Turning to look at him, his face was still angled downwards, but the bright light from his phone screen revealed how his cheeks were slowly turning red. You only chucked, amused — but also flattered — of his shy possessiveness.
The music started to play, and your eyebrows narrowed in confusion when you recognised the melody. This wasn’t something from Megumi’s playlist… this was one of the songs you used to put on.
“I didn’t know you liked this song,” you smiled.
He shrugged. “Yeah, I like the lyrics.”
Despite being the driver, you got to indulge in your traditional performance, singing along to the words you knew so well. Your head fell back against the headrest, a small satisfied hum leaving you as the song came to an end.
However, the next song was also one you recognised. Your confused expression returned, turning to look at your boyfriend again, who was simply staring out the window, pretending as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
And when the fifth song in a row was one of yours, you had to ask “is this my playlist?”
“No.” Short, determined, no signs of a lie anywhere in his answer.
“These are songs I usually play.”
“So? It isn’t your playlist.”
The entirety of the drive back to his place was filled with songs you would usually play. Though they all seemed to fall within the calmer spectrum of your music, it was definitely still your music.
The car turned silent when you shut off the engine, looking over to see Megumi resting his head against the glass, steady breathing revealing he had fallen asleep. All the socialising mixed with the few drinks in his system, he was probably exhausted.
You reached over to wake him up, hand stopping right as you were about to touch his arm, when his unlocked phone caught your eye — Spotify on display to reveal the playlist titled ‘her songs I actually like’.
“Cheeky bastard,” you whispered to yourself, causing his eyes to slowly flutter open.
“Hmm?” He breathed quietly, rubbing his eyes before turning to meet your giddy face, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “What?” He mumbled in a tired voice.
“You’re a sap!” You teased.
His eyebrows pinched closer, trying to piece together what you were talking about. “Are we home?”
“Don’t change the topic, mister. You’re secretly a romantic!”
His attention flicked to his bright screen, seeing the playlist he had curated in your honour, a groan slipping out of him immediately. “You weren’t supposed to see.”
“Why? It’s cute!”
“Exactly, it’s gonna make you insufferable.”
It drew out an offended scoff from you as you shoved his arm. “Whatever, you’re the one who made me a playlist.”
“This is what I was talking about,” he groaned again, hurrying out of the car.
“Wait up,” you laughed, rushing out of the car, instantly tugging at his arm when you caught up with him. “I have a few questions about it.”
“I am sure you do.”
“So, how many songs are on it?”
“Quite a few.”
“That’s not a number.”
“A lot.”
“Are there songs of mine you hate?”
“Oh, definitely.”
“Can you show me those?”
“If you really want me to.”
Well into the night, the two of you laid in his bed, talking about music. He told you which songs of yours he could not stand, causing you to laugh uncontrollably when he tried to hum the melody and failing terribly, seeing as he had not been bothered to learn the titles of the ones he hated.
Then he played you his favourites, and explained why — how you seemed to always enjoy those the most when singing along, cheeks strained because you were smiling so much.
And in return, you told him which of his songs you liked — which ones of his you found yourself tapping your foot along to, some of your opinions genuinely surprising him.
Eventually, you both fell asleep with the playlist on in the background.
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tags (taglist is open)
@sad-darksoul ノ @nyahctrl ノ @ssetsuka ノ @aceakariii ノ @chxlexauriana
@ps-forgetmenot ノ @thejujvtsupost ノ @acowboykisser ノ @rixo-19
@aestheticallyvini ノ @iheartlinds ノ @rory-cakes ノ @tiffanyandrson
@madaqueue ノ @lemonnotade ノ @six-eyed-samurai ノ @gdamnackerman
@hiraethwa
a/n
surprise post. just a cute lil something <3 he is so casually cute, the small things yk
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©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited
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radishaur · 19 hours
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༄ kind words ༄
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Warnings: mentions of unwelcome advances in Law's part Genre: fluff Characters: Luffy, Zoro, & Law Summary: How they realize they have feelings for you (words of affirmation edition) Author's Note: It's finally here! These keep getting longer and longer as I get more familiar with each character and the dynamic, especially Law's, but I don't think that's too much of an issue. I also kind of hate Luffy's but couldn't keep redoing it, so maybe I'll edit it later. Happy reading as I begin working on the next part!
masterlist
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Luffy is great at giving compliments because he just says whatever he's thinking.
He gets complimented a lot as well. He's always running around and saving people, intentionally or not, so he's probably heard his fair share of compliments. I think hearing a compliment that's more deep and genuine, that comes from someone who knows him deeply, would be more meaningful than anything and would make him recognize his feelings.
~
Not every day on the Sunny was a fun adventure.
Setting out to sail across the whole world and strive for their individual goals there was bound to be hardship. Sometimes it came in the form of grueling battles with their latest enemy. Other times it was internal conflicts or disputes, simple disagreements or heated arguments.
This time, it was grief.
After so many months traveling together, the crew had learned how to tell when one of them was upset about something and needed space. Today, it had been Nami. For the past few days, her mood had been off. She'd been more quick to anger and had spent more time than was strictly necessary tending to her orange trees. Then today, she'd been even worse, snapping at Sanji's normal overbearing lovey behavior and brooding to herself under the shade of her grove.
It didn't take him long to realize what was bothering her.
Nami only ever got like this when she was thinking about Bellemere, which meant today must be the anniversary of when everything happened. The crew had spent most of the day giving her her space, allowing her to process what she was very clearly feeling. After a while, he took it upon himself to cheer her up. He made silly faces and played some of her favorite games on the deck, goading her into joining them by making bets he knew he would lose. He'd even secretly asked Sanji to incorporate oranges into their dinner. By the end of the night, Nami was laughing and she seemed a lot lighter, like whatever was weighing her down had lessened some.
Now, it was late at night, and the only sounds that could be heard on the Sunny were the lapping of waves against the ship and the snores of his crew as they slept. All except for him.
Sleep was avoiding him, so he decided that he would be much better off just joining whoever was on watch and maybe having some fun. He made his way up to the crow's nest and was happy to find you sitting on the bench, looking out across the sea.
"Oh, hi Luffy," you said, your voice quiet.
"Hi!" he said, sitting excitedly next to you on the bench as you looked out across the sea once more. "I couldn't sleep so I decided to come out and have some fun!"
You smiled, always amused by his antics.
"Well, unfortunately, there's no fun here. I'm on watch, remember?"
He pouted, knowing you were right but still disappointed anyways. You laughed at him as he whined and complained, but he didn't actually intend on distracting you, so after a while, he quieted down and let you focus.
"I hope Nami is feeling better," you said, resting your head on the arm you propped up on the window. You were frowning slightly, your eyes unfocused as your worry made itself visible on your face.
"She'll be ok, she's Nami! She's strong," he replied, no doubt in his mind that tomorrow she would be the same old Nami she had always been. "She might be sad now, but it's not forever. She has us to help her."
You hummed in agreement, a small smile on your face. He smiled himself, happy to see you smiling instead of with a frown on your face. He felt so lucky to have found a group who cared so deeply about each other.
"All that stuff you did today. It was to cheer her up, wasn't it."
You said it like a statement more than a question and he found himself smiling at how observant you were. "You figured it out. You're so smart!"
You laughed at him once again, his own laughter joining you as you said, "Of course I did. I know you wouldn't have made those bets under normal circumstances."
They had been stupidly dumb bets that left no chance for him to win and he found himself giggling as he remembered how Nami had perked up upon hearing him agree to them. He loved his crew more than anything, so what was a few beri down the drain? Your laughter subsided as you got lost in thought once more. You seemed like you were debating saying something and when you seemed to have made up your mind, he found himself sitting up straighter as you turned to look at him.
"You're a lot smarter than people give you credit for," you said, a small smile on your face and a playful admiration in your eyes.
He's not quite sure what to say to that. He's always been called stupid and to everyone's credit, he is. He doesn't think very often, preferring to act on instinct and figure out the rest of the plan later. He's been known to not read the room, to zone out during important world lessons, and to shout out the first thing that comes to mind. He doesn't think anyone has ever called him smart and for the first time in maybe his whole life, he's speechless.
"I guess that's probably not what you were expecting me to say, huh?" you teased, a light smile making its way onto your face.
He collects himself and asks, slightly incredulously, the question that's first in his mind. "Why do you think that?"
"Well, you just told me you did all that stuff to cheer Nami up, right? Someone stupid wouldn't be able to put together why she was upset and what would make her feel better. You pay attention when it counts and you're a lot more emotionally intelligent than people realize," you explain, relaxing slightly as you look out at the ocean once more. "Today it was Nami, but I've watched you help lots of people like that. Vivi, Robin, Sanji, even me. Maybe you don't say it out loud, but you pick up on people's emotions and what they need the most in that moment."
He listens as you talk and slowly realizes that you're right. He's always had a way of reading people and knowing what they really want or need, but he's never really connected it to intelligence. He always thought it was just his own special kind of stupid.
"I guess that makes me a genius!" he exclaimed, laughing heartily as your eyes widened in shock before laughing along with him.
"Maybe you are stupid after all," you say, but there's no malice in the words as you keep laughing at him.
Finally, your watch shift is over and the sun peeks up over the horizon. He'd stayed with you the entire time, just talking and goofing around until he realized how much time had passed and how tired he was. His dreams that night are filled with you and when he wakes up, your words are still floating around in his mind. Knowing that you think he's smart makes him feel funny and he thinks that maybe he should finally turn his ability to recognize people's feelings inward.
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Zoro doesn't throw out compliments or encouragement left and right, he only says something if he really means it.
I think he's received his fair share of compliments, although I doubt he puts much stock in them unless they come from someone he respects. If he doesn't think there's any stock in the compliment, or on that same token an insult, why bother giving it attention? For this reason, I think getting a compliment or reassurance from you would rattle him a little and cause him to have an aha moment.
~
The town that the Sunny docked in isn't too interesting to Zoro, aside from the bar he's nestled into for the past few hours. He has a few empty glasses in front of him and he's almost done with his current one when he sees the door open.
He's not surprised when he sees multiple of the crew walk in, quickly noticing him in the corner and making their way to him. You're among them, talking to Robin about something that elicits a small laugh out of her. Begrudgingly, he scoots over and makes room for everyone in his booth as they smoosh in.
"I knew we'd find you here!" you say, the last to slide in so you're right across from him. "Already deep into your drinks, as expected."
"Shut it, woman," he grumbles, his brows furrowing as he finishes his drink and sets the cup down on the table. You laugh, looking at Robin as Usopp reluctantly hands Nami some beri. He feels his eye twitch in irritation as he notices the exchange. "Are you betting on me?"
Usopp gulps at the glare he sends his way and Nami simply smiles, dollar signs practically lighting up in her eyes as she answers, "Yep! I bet that you were already 3 drinks deep and I was right."
"We've barely even arrived! I thought-" Usopp protests, attempting to explain himself.
"You both are insufferable!"
His exclamation elicits another laugh out of you as Robin simply lifts a hand to her mouth to hide the amusement that is no doubt there. He wants to be annoyed, and he is, but he's been traveling with the lot of you for long enough that he can't really be upset, at least that genuinely. He simply huffs, waving down a server to ask for another glass.
The rest leap over each other to order their own drinks, some alcoholic, some not, and fall into easy chatter with each other. Periodically, he catches your eyes and you send him a smile, but he doesn't insert himself in the conversations, much preferring to listen. Eventually, Nami gets tired of just sitting in the bar and decides to go shopping. Usopp and Robin decide to accompany her, but you decide to stay behind. You wave, watching them go as he takes his previous spot in the booth back.
"Not in the shopping mood?" he asks, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.
"No, I'd much rather stay here with my favorite swordsman," you tease. He bristles, knowing that you're just poking him for fun, but he can't stop himself from blushing, taking a long sip from his glass to hide the blush he can feel on his cheeks.
"You're worse than that damn cook," he mumbles, his glass now sufficiently empty.
You laugh at that.
"Now that's just a lie."
He can't deny that, the corner of his lips twisting up into a smile. He's spent enough time traveling with you to know that you don't act like that with everyone, just him. The notion that you reserve this behavior for just him is both agitating and yet satisfying. He feels something possessive lick at his heart but ignores it, waving at the server for yet another drink.
He asks you about what you've been up to on the island since they docked and you happily tell him all about it. It hasn't been long so you don't have much to say and it isn't long before the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. After a while, you finally talk again and it's not what he's expecting.
"I know you'll become the greatest swordsman, Zoro."
He sputters, the sip he was taking spilling all over himself as he coughs, trying to catch his breath. He can feel his ears heating up with embarrassment and sputters, "Where the hell did that come from?"
When you look at him, your face is set in firm determination, but your eyes are soft, filled with a fondness he wishes you would direct at him more often.
"Those pirates we fought yesterday," you explain.
He thinks for a moment before he's reminded of what you're referring to. On their way to this island, they had run into a rival ship following the same course. While they hadn't intended to battle them, the ship fired at them as soon as they were in range, so they had no other choice. He remembers the fight being fairly easy, each member of the crew handling their fair share of pirates.
He also remembers one of their crew having some rather nasty words to say to him.
"You're delusional if you think you can become the greatest swordsman," he had spat, struggling to breathe. "You'll see it eventually. Even if you won this battle, you'll never achieve your dream."
He hadn't paid much attention to the words. He was confident in his own abilities and his opponent had been defeated easily, so there wasn't any point in taking his words to heart. He hadn't thought anyone was close enough to hear it and he certainly hadn't brought it up, quickly forgetting about it.
He smirked then, letting the full force of his pride show in the grin as he said, "That loser wouldn't know what it takes to be the greatest swordsman even if it smacked him in the face."
"That doesn't make any sense," you say, your face wrinkling as you giggle at his statement.
He takes another sip as your laughter dies out.
"I'm not worried about what a crap swordsman has to say about me and my dream," he says, his voice a lot more serious now as he thinks about the promise he made all those years ago. "I will become the world's greatest swordsman or die trying."
"You'll do it. I know you will."
You don't say anything after that, seemingly having said everything you intended to, but your words linger with him. The thought that you had heard the man's words and felt it was important enough to dispute them made his heart feel weird. He had never doubted himself, even when he maybe should have. He'd always been sure that his will, determination, and hard work would take him to exactly where he was supposed to be. Still, hearing your words of encouragement, hearing your genuine belief in his ability, it affected him in a way he wasn't expecting.
"You will too," he says, his voice barely above a murmur.
A few seconds go by where you don't say anything and he wonders if you'd even heard him, but one glance at you tells him that you had. You're not looking at him, your eyes averted as if you're embarrassed and your lips are curved into a small, satisfied smile. The sight makes his heart stop and he almost goes to clutch his chest before the feeling quickly passes.
Before the moment can linger, you're shooting back into conversation with him. Despite his best efforts to pay attention, he finds that his attention is drawn back again and again to your words. He knows that the crew believes in his dreams just as much as he believes in theirs. It's part of why he's so willing to protect their dreams just as fiercely as his own, but for some reason knowing that you believe in him so much really sticks with him.
He thinks about it for the rest of the day as well as late into the night when they're all back on the Sunny and setting off for the next island. He doesn't like being distracted, so he mulls over why your compliment holds so much weight for him. He values your opinion, but you're also not a swordsman, so theoretically there shouldn't be that much weight to your words. When he finally realizes, it feels like everything clicks into place and so many things start to make sense.
He acts like nothing has changed, wanting time to sit with the feelings before he decides what to do about them, but he finds it hard now that he understands the full weight of his regard for you.
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Law rarely ever gives out compliments, rather preferring to show how he feels with his actions.
I think he receives a few compliments here and there, but he's built an intimidating presence and image, so I think they're far and few between. However, I think if you took him off guard with a meaningful compliment, especially if its one that he hasn't heard before, it would make him start to think about his feelings towards you.
~
"Captain, we have a problem."
Law sighs, all of the worst-case scenarios running through his mind as he turns to face Sachi. They're docked at a port town so that they can restock the Polar Tang, preparing for another few weeks underwater. It's familiar and something that the crew should be familiar with by this point. They have a routine, a schedule that rarely changes, that details who goes with who to go get what. In theory, it should go perfectly smoothly.
It never does.
"What is it, Sachi?" he asks, his grip on Kikoku tightening slightly as Sachi walks up to him with the list of crewmates and jobs in hand.
"Well, you said that nobody is allowed to go alone into town right? For safety?" he asks, only resuming once Law has hummed in agreement. "Right, well uh, unfortunately, Penguin is sick today which means his partner doesn't have anyone to go with, which wouldn't be an issue since usually we have at least one group of three but, well, they're also sick so-"
Law grumbles under his breath about getting to the damn point, grabbing the sheet from Sachi's hands to just look at the issue himself. Sachi gulps, sensing his irritation, and nervously rubs the back of his neck. The problem becomes clear very easily. His beloved crew had partied a little too hard the last few nights and now two of them were sick, leaving no group of three to split up and someone unaccompanied. He looks for Penguin's name to see who's alone and feels his heart flutter slightly when he sees your name scrawled out next to it.
"Our only two options are to either make one group get two things, which would set us back at least an hour, or...," Sachi says, trailing off slightly. The unspoken second option is clear. Law always spend their restock days on the ship. The higher his bounty gets, the higher the chance that he gets recognized, so he always finds it easier and safer for him to stay behind.
"I'll go," he relents, watching as the tension in Sachi's shoulders dissipates.
"Great. Thanks, Captain!"
Sachi disappears before he can change his mind. He sighs, looking around the collection of his crew until he finally finds you in the mix. He makes his way over, watching as you converse with Bepo, catching the very end of your sentence.
"-seems like I'll be alone today. Sachi said he would look into it, but everyone already has their pairs so I don't know who could take his place."
"That would be me," he answers, watching as both Bepo and you finally notice his approach.
"Oh! Uh, are you sure? Don't you usually spend the day on the Tang doing research?" you ask.
He ignores your improper name for the Polar Tang as he explains the situation to you. You nod, smiling as you say, "I see. Well, I'm glad to have your company then, Captain!"
He's taken aback by your words but decides to just move forward instead of dwelling on them, so he turns around and shouts, "Let's go."
"Shouldn't you probably change?"
He stops, looking down at his attire as you add, "As much as it suits you, it doesn't really hide the fact that you're a pirate, let alone our Captain."
He can't really argue with that. The Heart Pirates logo is front and center on his shirt and Kikaku is certainly not doing him any favors either. He tells you to wait and then quickly shambles himself into his room to change. He has to dig really deep in his closet before he finds a shirt that doesn't have his symbol front and center, but once he does he leaves Kikaku leaning against his wall and shambles back up to you.
By the time he's changed and came back, most of his crew is gone. You're quicker to notice him this time as a result and the two of you finally head into town.
"What are we in charge of?" he asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets now that they're not holding his sword.
"We're in charge of the medicinal herbs, Captain," you answer.
"Just Law is fine," he says, his hand fidgeting slightly as he adds, "No use in me changing if you're just going to use my title."
He sees you smile softly out of the corner of his eyes. "Right. Law it is, then."
His ears burn slightly as you say his name so effortlessly, but he brushes it off quickly and continues into town. It's not hard to find the store you're looking for and he lets you take the lead as you begin listing off the various herbs you need. It's not long before the two of you are walking through town once more, heading towards the submarine.
"Oh, look! That art is gorgeous."
He stops walking as he turns to look at what you're pointing at. There's a small stall in the marketplace's square that's selling paintings of all different sizes and mediums. He sees your eyes light up as you look at them and isn't surprised when you say, "Wait here, I'm going to go buy one."
He huffs, leaning against the wall of a nearby building where he can see the stall. He'd like to pretend that today had purely been an inconvenience, but he can't find it in himself to be that upset. While it was inconvenient that he wasn't able to spend the time studying the most recent medical book he had been interested in, the day had been pleasant. You'd made pleasant conversation with him while walking in town and your bright demeanor always seems to calm him down.
He looks back over to the stall, curious about what painting had caught your eyes, but feels his heart jolt when he doesn't see any sign of you. He stands up to his full height, hoping to catch any glimpse of you, but he still doesn't see anything. He curses to himself for letting his guard down and allowing you to somehow slip away and starts searching for you with his observation haki.
He picks up your signature in an alleyway and feels his gut churning. Not wanting to draw attention to himself by using his devil fruit powers, he quickly makes his way to where you are. As he gets closer, he hears you pleading with someone.
"Look, I'm really not interested and I have someone waiting for me, so-"
"Surely I can show you a better time than them, hm?"
He doesn't recognize the second voice but he doesn't need to to know what's going on. He feels anger burn in him as he finally turns a corner and sees a guy caging your body against the wall with both of his arms.
"I already told you, I'm not looking for that. Please let me go," you say, your hands clutching the bag of herbs you'd bought earlier as well as what looks to be whatever painting you had bought at the stall. He also sees the man take a step closer and open his mouth to talk, so he takes the opportunity to interrupt.
"You heard them," he says, his voice like venom as he enunciates, "Let them go."
The man looks at him, sizing him up as he takes a step back and lets his arms drop. "What are you, a good samaritan? Buzz off," he scoffs, turning his head back to you, clearly intending to ignore him.
He doesn't know what comes over him as he finds himself stepping closer and punching the man square on the side of his face. The man, clearly caught off guard, stumbles slightly. He doesn't give him any time to recover as he steps forward, putting himself in between you and the man whose face was now swelling up.
"What the hell?" he shouts, cradling his face as he finally catches his balance.
He can see the punch coming but knows that you're standing right behind him, so he only shifts slightly so that the punch only hits him in the shoulder. A moment afterward, it dawns on him that he can just get rid of the man, so he does.
"You're lucky I don't have my sword, or you'd be getting much worse than this," he seethes, holding his hand out as he says his classic phrase and sends the man shambling into the ocean. In his place, a mossy stone drops to the ground, echoing in the now almost empty alleyway.
When he turns around, you're staring at him speechless. He frowns slightly as he gives you a once over, checking for any visible signs of harm.
"I'm ok," you finally say, your voice shaky before you cough slightly and repeat, voice calm, "I'm ok. Just unnerved."
He doesn't take his chances and calls another room, switching you both closer to the Polar Tang. His guilt at letting you out of his sight and allowing this guy to drag you off eats at him as the two of you approach the ship. Once inside, he shambles the two of you to his examination room, pointing to the table and saying, "Sit. I want to check for injuries with the proper equipment."
You don't fight him as you make your way towards the table. You're still holding the bag and the painting until he gently takes them from you, placing them next to you on the table.
"I'm really ok La- I mean Captain," you begin, correcting yourself back to his title now that it's just the two of you.
He finds himself missing his name from you but keeps the comment to himself. He's supposed to be checking you for injuries. He's supposed to be assessing your well-being, which is only in question because of his own negligence. He frowns to himself and continues to check you for injuries without answering.
You let him, still assuring him that you're fine, that he only grabbed your arm for a moment at the stall, but he doesn't stop until he's sure that there's nothing wrong.
He sighs, finally stepping back from the table. His guilt still eats at him regardless as he goes over everything he did wrong. "I'm sorry, I should have been watching more carefully. No, I should have just come with you."
You simply smile at him in response and say, "It's my fault. I was the one who stepped away."
He doesn't have anything to say to that. He knows it's true, you did step away despite it being an explicit rule not to, but he can't deny his part in it as well. He curls his fists as the silence continues.
"Why didn't you dodge his punch?" you ask, your voice quiet.
He's surprised by the question, but also by how quickly his cheeks warm up at his answer. He looks off to the side, hiding behind his hat as he says, "You were right behind me. If I moved, he would have just punched you."
You have the audacity to laugh, loud and full as if he had just told you the funniest joke you'd ever heard and he can't help but scowl.
"You know," you start, laughter still floating in your voice, "For someone with such a cold exterior, you sure are kind."
The compliment catches him off guard. His face whips towards you as his eyes open in shock, the faint blush now burning bright red across his whole face. He meets your eyes and he doesn't see any hint of a joke.
He's heard himself called a lot of things. Scary, cold, bitter, even downright malicious, but never kind. It sends shivers up his spine as the word settles somewhere under his skin. You think he's kind. Kind.
"You're my subordinate. I'm not being kind, I'm just doing my job as your Captain," he corrects, not wanting you to misunderstand his intentions.
Your laugh this time is softer, more full of fondness, but it rustles him all the same. "You really are kind though," you insist. He's not ready for you to continue, barely able to handle the few words you've said, but that's never stopped you before. "I think you care a lot more than you want us to think. You wouldn't worry so much otherwise. Besides, you're always going out of your way to protect us. I think that makes you kind."
He doesn't know what to say, so he tries to navigate back into familiar territory. He takes a deep breath and calms his nerves, grabbing the bag of medical herbs from your side and turning around to begin putting them away. "Well, since I've checked and you don't have any injuries, there's no reason for you to stay."
He hears you shuffling around as he begins unpacking the herbs from the bag and chances a glance over at you one more time. He regrets it immediately.
You're looking at him like you can see right through him. You have your painting tucked under your arm as you look over your shoulder at him in the doorway and you're still smiling at him as if he didn't just ignore your comment and dismiss you rather rudely. It makes his heart ache, wanting to prove you right. To prove that he is kind, that he's worthy of your opinion of him, that he's worthy of your praise.
"Thank you, Captain. I enjoyed your company today."
With that, you disappear down the hallway, presumably back to your shared room to hang up your new picture. He stares at the spot you left long after you've gone, your words echoing in his mind. They rattle around in his heart until they finally settle, leaving a warm comfort he didn't know he craved.
You think he's kind.
That thought plagues his mind for the rest of the day. His guilt is completely forgotten, his mind too consumed by your compliment to make any room for it. He finds himself unable to even focus on reading the medical book that night that he missed out on reading earlier. Your words and the simple fact that you truly believed them chip away at his resolve until he finally has to come to terms with why it affects him so much. He mumbles your name, his hand clutching his heart as it beats, solidifying what he'd been ignoring for a long, long time now.
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ღ radishaur — i do not own any of these characters. do not plagiarize. please enjoy and remember to be respectful! 
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