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#like is home just a place he eats sleeps and lives in or does it carry any meaning beyond that at this point
annie-creates · 1 day
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Life without you
Pairing: Abby Anderson x reader
Genre: fluff
Words: 1000
Note: This is a cute little comfort fluffy fic.
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With a heavy sigh you close the door of your small apartment in the Firefly base, shrugging your jacket off and placing your shoes by the door. The living room is quiet and dark, not even the kitchenette light left on. No wonder the place is vacant, it must be long past midnight at this point. Not having the energy to even eat you quickly brush your teeth changing into the pajamas you left in the bathroom this morning. You’re trying to keep quiet, not wanting to disturb the night peace of the place. Carefully you open the bedroom door, your girlfriends form steadily breathing on her side of bed.
You whine in pain as you sit on your side of the bed trying to relieve your tensed up muscles, the mattress dipping under your weight. With the many people who kept arriving at your camp, a lot of them needed your help as a doctor. Count in your regular patients and those who got hurt during patrols and hunting and you were overwhelmed with work. Sleep was a foreign concept to you at this point, your body running solely on caffeine and cold showers. The rare nights when you could take the time to actually go home and sleep you returned deep into the night and left before sunrise, hardy even having the time for a conversation with your girlfriend.
“Hi.” Comes from behind you and you feel the duvets shifting.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up.” You apologize in a tender voice.
“You didn’t.” But it’s clearly not true. “A lot of work?”
“A crazy lot of work.” You admit crawling into bed, Abby offering her strong embrace to you. “I wouldn’t even wish upon anyone to see it.”
“That bad?” She chuckles amused.
“Nah, even worse.” Is all you say because the last thing you want to talk about when finally coming home is your never-ending work again.
Your mind goes back to a year ago when Abby joined the fireflies, needing your medical help herself. She was a much different person back then, hurt and skinny, but also guarded and insecure. She came out of her shell a lot over the time, being an amazing companion, endlessly supportive and caring. She always understood when you had too much work or needed her to reassure you in your skills. Her hair had grown out to a shot bob now and she built her muscles into a strong frame.
“When was the last time you slept?” She asks watching the dark bags under your beautiful eyes.
“Um, Monday? What day is it?” You answer unsure, your mind and eyes already too heavy to hold a meaningful conversation.
“Thursday.” From her vice it’s clear Abby doesn’t approve of this, but all she does is tighten her hold on you.
She carefully caresses your back and you play with her short hair. You told her how beautiful she’d look with it longer, but she’s adamant on not letting it grow longer than her collar bones. It’s practical, won’t get in her way in a fight, she always says, but you can see she has deeper reasons not to want long hair she’s not yet ready to share with you. As you’re falling into slumber, a harsh knock on the front door startles you awake.
“Really?” You complain under your breath getting up to open the door before your girlfriend can stop you.
You open the door to find the west group’s captain on the other side, tapping his foot impatiently. You can already guess where this is going, waving your sleep a goodbye in your head for another night. Sometimes it felt like the planet would stop turning and freeze over if you took just thirty minutes to have a break. You contemplate shutting the door in his face but you’re just not that kind of person, besides there could be an actual emergency needing your attention.
“What can I do for you?” You offer instead.
“I need you to come look at one of our guys, he got an arrow to his knee and…” He keeps rumbling.
“Do you know what time it is!?” shutting him up your girlfriend inserts herself into the door frame, her arms already folded over her broad chest in anger. “You have like ten other doctors to look after him, let this one have a night of sleep, Jesus Christ.”
“But he’s…” He tries to argue with her, not knowing it’s equivalent to signing your own death certificate.
“He’s not going to die till morning. For fucks sake.” Not letting him continue she shuts the door with a harsh swing. “You really need to learn how to say no sometimes.” She admonishes you being in a rage.
“Thank you, my knight in a shining armor.” It’s only half joke because you know deep down she’s right and people need to stop using you so much. “What would I do without you.”
“Die of sleep deprivation.” The look on her face is serious but you see it in her eyes she’s not actually mad at you.
Hugging her neck you give her a loving kiss, content you might actually get some sleep in tonight now. She picks you up forcing you to hang your lets around her waist and carries you back to bed, wrapping herself around you like a snake to stop you from getting up again and also because she loves your affection and scent. It wasn’t hard to get sleepy again in her warm embrace full of love and care.
“Now sleep.” She commands you and you have no intention to disobey her.
Sometimes you really didn’t know what you’d do without her, but she felt equally lost in the world without you. She couldn’t let you get yourself hurt one way or another, partly because she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if you weren’t by her side. At this point she couldn’t imagine her life without you.
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bluegarners · 1 year
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feeling mentally ill about dick grayson's concept of home.... like he literally can never go home
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alexthetrashyracoon · 1 month
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Whenever Simon returns home from any kind of deployment, but especially the long ones, he follows a very specific routine and you are there to greet him
Your shared flat is dark when he comes home, not many sounds to be heard, the windows had been sound proofed since your home was located a very busy street.
So Simon just stands in the doorway, door closed and locked, and does nothing for a whole minute.
He just takes in the different smells he missed, the smells that weren’t death and demise but so uniquely yours.
You smelled of home and peace, at least for him.
Next he kicks of his shoes and throws his bag to the ground, he could unpack it in the morning and hushes through the dark flat, as quiet as a mouse, to not wake you up, he makes his way in the kitchen, finding his favorite dinner in a Tupperware container in the fridge, waiting to be heated up.
It tastes better than Simon remembers, he wishes it was fresh and not warmed up but beggars can’t be choosers, right?
So he eat the food, enjoying the warmth of his tongue, too used to the rations he got on the field. It’s perfectly seasoned, not too salty or too spicy or anything, god, Simon loves your food. 
With every bite Simon takes his body relaxes more and more, slowly understanding that he was home again and that you wanted him still with you, even with how long he is always absent.
He sees it in the food you have prepared, Simon knows how much you hate cooking the meat and the vegetables, it takes always way too long you usually complain so Simon only gets it to special occasions.
Returning home has to be one of them.
When the plate is empty, Simon contemplates either to take a shower or to wait for tomorrow when he can take one with you.
He decides against it, having taken one before he left base this morning and he wasn’t even smelling that bad at the moment.
You wake up to rustling in the room, and no matter how hard Simon tries to be quiet, it’s like his presence is a natural clock to you, and you watch him for a moment before calling his name.
A soft and careful whisper, knowing he could still be in another headspace, one where his instincts are tuned on survival, not living.
He turns to look over his shoulder and smiles before crawling into the bed with you, halfway dressed but none of you mind.
Simon crawls between your legs, touching them with his fingertips, leaving goosebumps in their wakes.
“You’re real.” He whispers, leaning down to place his lips against your stomach. “You’re here.”
“I am here.” You reply and run your nails through his blond hair. “I am real.”
He lays down next to you and cradles your body against his, making sure to hold onto every inch of your body to keep you safe and warm. “I am home.” He whispers into your hair and not a second later he falls asleep.
You almost break your neck to pull the blanket over your bodies and smiles at his sleeping form. “You are home.”
Thank you for 100 Followers <3
And Requests are open if you like?
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peaches-creek · 4 months
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When he walks through the door, you are cooking. Smells like something Italian but maybe not. He hears the bubbling of a pot and a searing of a pan. He crouches as he takes off his boots, caked in dirt and stinking of something foreign. He can’t greet you after a month like this, covered in grease and smelling of gunpowder and sweat. You heard him drop his duffle bag. He hears do drop the spoon you were using and the pitter-patter of your feet coming to greet him. Your smiling face turns the corner.
“You’re home.” You gently say as you walk over to him. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into your arms with his face in your neck. You pull his mask off and give a kiss to his temple.
“I smell.” He says.
“Everyone smells,” she quips, “lemme hold you for a minute.” He lets her do exactly that.
After a minute or so he tells her she needs to finish cooking, and that he needs to shower. They can have a meal together and then take a well deserved nap together.
While he’s in the shower he takes his time decompressing. Trying to become Simon after a month of being Lt. Ghost. He thinks of what you might be cooking instead of the mistake he made that almost costed Price his life. He uses your conditioner and gingerbread body wash, knowing that you wouldn’t mind. You never do. It shocks him, every time, when he thinks of how much you Love him. You know what he does, and you still call him your “cutie-patootie.”
By the time he’s out of the shower, dinner is on the table, warm and on his favorite blue plates. You made him lemon breaded chicken and garlic parmesan pasta, his second favorite dish, first being his mother’s meatloaf.
“You smell familiar.” You laugh.
“This smells great,” he states, “not as good as me though.”
You place a kiss on his lips.
“Okay now that you have kissed the chef, you may eat your meal.” You move to the other side of the table, sitting across from him.
“Catch me up, what did I miss?” He says.
You spend the next half an hour talking his ear off as he shovels food into his face. He prefers that, not only does he like hearing your voice but it also helps him settle in. Hearing all the things that you did around the house, putting up new pictures, the ones that you took when you guys went to see the Eiffel Tower. You also got a few new plants, and told him that you waited for him to get home so you could name them together. You also said how you started watching some new documentary that he had to see.
He spent his whole life moving from one place to another, barely living. Now he has you. You move him and he moves you. Once he was finished with his plate, you took it to the sink and placed it on top of the others, you can do those later, it’s time to put your man to bed. He deserves it.
“Okay now, let’s get you to bed.” You pull him up and drag him to your shared bed. It’s quite a funny thing to see, such a large man getting dragged through the halls just to be tucked into bed.
You reach your destination. You let go of his hand and pull the covers back. You settle yourself in first, waving your hand to tell him to come in. You then maneuver him to put his head on your chest.
“All settled in?” You ask. He nods his head. No words needed. He was exactly where he needed to be. You begin to rub his back as he slowly finds himself falling into a sweet sleep, courtesy of you.
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rninies · 3 months
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✮ sleeping over - gojo satoru
synopsis: gojo satoru finally convinces you to stay over his place.
warnings: fluff, gn!reader, pouty gojo, reader loves teasing him — wc: 698
notes: new fic after idk how many days yipee hey people
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satoru dislikes staying at home sometimes. it’s not about how fancy his house is or even how comfortable it is. no, it’s about not having you in the house. he loves your company a lot and is always so dependent on you. he loves hugging you, kissing you, touching you — satoru loves your presence so much that he feels like he can’t live without you (it’s such an exaggeration you say to him when he says that to you).
“y/n, baby, honey,” satoru whines. he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back down onto his lap as you are about to stand up. “are you going to stay over tonight?”
“…mm, maybe next time,” you reply, and satoru groans.
“you always say next time, though.” satoru pouts, resting his chin on your shoulder. “come on. just this once. we’ve been dating for four months now! it’s gotta happen someday.” the way he tightens his grip on your waist is a silent beg for you to stay. “please?”
you sigh, finally giving in. “okay, fine.” satoru gasps, happy. “but you will be taking care of dinner tonight.”
“okay!” satoru says in excitement. “what do you want? sushi? pizza? pasta? say anything and you’ll get it!”
you stifled a laugh. “hm, you can just make anything you want. i don’t mind.”
“okay. i’ll make us some kitsune udon.” satoru says. you nod in agreement.
satoru lets go of you, allowing you to move away from him. he takes the ingredients out and starts cooking. you silently admire satoru from the couch, looking at him cutting up the ingredients, boiling the water, and waiting for the udon to finish. as soon as he finishes, he sets the two bowls down on the table, clapping his hands in satisfaction.
“dinner’s ready!” satoru exclaims. you stand up, the smell of kitsune udon filling your nose. “mm, it smells amazing, toru!”
“of course it does.” satoru smugly says. “i’m the best cook after all. the best one you’ll ever meet in the entire world.”
“pft-” you giggled. “yeah, okay whatever you say, master chef satoru.” satoru frowns, not taking the insult (as he would call it) very well. however, instead of refuting you, he sits down at the left side of the table, far from you, and starts eating quietly. “why are you sitting so far away from me?”
“no reason why.” satoru shrugs, continuing to eat his udon. “why? you got a problem with that?”
you suppress the smile from forming on your face, knowing the reason behind this. “no. just wondering why.”
satoru frowns once more, upset at the lack of reaction. he stands up and sits next to you, slamming his bowl on the table, and spilling a little bit of the soup. “i can never get to you can i?”
“nope.” you say, popping the ‘p’. “you’re just too cute when you’re mad.”
“i hate you,” satoru mumbles. “i hate you with my every soul. i regret inviting you to stay over.”
“yeah, okay,” you say, finishing your udon. “wanna watch a movie after this?”
“yes.” satoru replies immediately. you both finish your meal, satoru immediately takes your bowl to wash it. “you can go pick the movie. if you pick the same barbie movie-”
“i am definitely watching barbie: princess charm school,” you say and rush to the couch. satoru chases after you and the both of you grab the remote, fighting over it. “hey-! come on, give me the remote, toru!”
“no way! i am not watching that movie for the tenth time this week and it’s only tuesday!” satoru says. “let me watch something i’ve been wanting to watch already! come on, let’s watch horror!”
“no way!” you exclaim, pulling the remote harder. “you know how much i hate horror! you’re the one who asked me to pick the movie for tonight so you better let me watch barbie!”
satoru pulls the remote back and it actually leaves your hand, making you lose your balance. you gasp, trying to catch your balance but you fail. satoru quickly catches you and the both of you fall on the couch. unsurprisingly, you fall on top of satoru, to which he is very happy about. “hey.” he says with a smile on his face.
“don’t say anything.” you frowned, though you were in a really comfortable position. “don’t move, actually. i’m really comfortable.”
“what?” satoru laughs. “at least let me be comfortable.” he holds you gently as he moves back to the couch. “there. and since i’m a nice host, i’ll let you watch barbie.”
“really? yeay!” your eyes sparkled happily. you grab the remote and play it. “just admit you like this movie. it’s a fun one!”
“yeah, sure.” satoru’s eyes are on you, watching the pretty smile on your face widen as the introduction to the movie starts. “i do like it.”
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taglist: @planetnini @xintre @kyoghurts @sad-darksoul (send an ask to be added!) <3
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ohmygraves · 3 months
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the first time you and ghost became roommates, he didn't have a lot of things.
he had his essentials, packed in a duffel bag and like, two moving boxes and that's it. he didn't even have his own furniture or pots and pans, so the two of you didn't cook for the first few weeks living together. he seems perfectly content with just living with the furniture that came with the apartment, an old beat up sofa and dirty stained dining table, together with a few chairs and old mattresses in each bedroom. you made it a goal to get rid of the smelly bed as soon as possible, working your arse off to afford new beds for the sake of your back.
ghost, or well, simon, don't feel the need to own too many things. he thinks it's a nuisance, since well it'll be tiring to pack so many things when he needs to move again for some reason or another. even when he stayed in the barracks, his room was always the most bare out of everyone.
you were the opposite, of course. you liked having lots of personal items and memorabilia, or just trinkets that you like in general. your shared flat is full of your items, posters hung up on the wall, framed pictures, potted plants, consoles and books, whatever you have. it felt like the place was only occupied by you, and with how often simon was away on deployments and missions, it might as well be.
you both split duties when he's around. you cook, he does dishes. you take out the trash, he cleans the bathroom. you tidy things up and he'd mop/vacuum it. he insisted that you cook since he's not much of a cook himself (which, explains why he doesn't have a single kitchen utensils in his stuff) and that you're better at cooking than him. he'd gladly deal with all the dirty jobs for you, wouldn't be the worst thing he did anyway.
you and simon get groceries separately (his "groceries" consisting of some type of booze and maybe toiletries, perhaps some snacks if he's feeling fancy), but very rarely you go together with him to tesco or something. you always have to remind him to note whatever things needed to be replaced at your shared flat, so that you don't have to go multiple times just to get a bottle of dish soap or toilet paper.
you two bicker like an old married couple sometimes, because he's a smart ass and would tease you, and you'd get mad at him for eating your things or using your soap/shampoo.
sometimes you wondered if rooming with simon was a bad idea, but he had always made sure to keep your job easy for you except for a few minor inconveniences he did on purpose just so you'd scold him. he helped move furniture and do the heavy jobs for you, and not to mention he leaves you alone, never nosy or get too friendly with you. although at the same time, he expected you to do the same for him.
if he tells you when he's coming back after missions, you'd get him a treat when he gets home, some beer already chilling in the refrigerator and his favorite snacks on the counter, together with his favorite takeout dinner (of course, you'd ask for the money back. you're not made of money if you're rooming with someone). some snarky note like "shower first before you sleep, stinky" or "it's 30 pounds for everything, you're welcome".
simon didn't think much of it, but he definitely took you for granted. you're a nice roommate, you two get along, and you're a great cook. you made sure to feed him whenever possible (because you're convinced he'd actually forget to eat when he's alone, considering his groceries as mentioned before), and not to mention you made his masks and balaclava smell nice and clean when you do laundry.
you'd patiently help him sew, teach him how to mend his clothes when he has the time (which is still a funny sight seeing how small the needles looked between his thick massive fingers). he always gets frustrated, telling you that you did a much better job than his lousy stitches that wouldn't even hold up after one wear. you'd sew all tears and holes on his masks and clothes, patch the holes up when you could.
in return, he'd bring some of your favorite snacks home. he always said something along the lines that it was on sale, or that it's buy one get one free, but you noted that he always brought home your favorite things after you mended his clothes, or helped him in some way. you didn't mind, you liked the snacks and it's nice that he shows his gratitude in this way.
you try to ignore the thumping of your heart every time he hands you things while saying "reckon you'd like this."
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satoruhour · 4 months
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a/n: not sure if other countries have rubbish chutes but my country does! i have to get out of my house to go to the common floor chute to throw my rubbish so this is just a little drabble based on that + spider-man!gojo :) / tagging @osaemu @jabamin @shotorus @hyomagiri @mysugu ✶
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“yes, yes! i’ll take out the trash—” you’re shouting to your mom when you’re called upon again, the third time within ten minutes to take the trash out. through your one-sided airpods (your left one always dies first), you can hear your mom tying the plastic bag and cleaning up at the sink.
it’s always been her bringing it to the chute outside your house; occasionally, you’d help but routine has never really let you do it, so later when you’re awkwardly tucking your phone into your pocket and listening to charlie burg’s voice through the right airpod, you can’t help the grimace that takes over your features at the wetness all over the trash bag.
“oh, it’s just water; stop being dramatic!” your mom chastises whilst on her nightly cup of water, gulping down the beverage before nodding towards the master bedroom, “i’m gonna go to sleep first.”
you hum in a half-hearted response, a little annoyed that you were interrupted from your lazing around but you still manage a soft goodnight when she disappears into the room and the house falls quiet. apart from the background classical music that plays from the stereo in the room and the laughter of the older kids downstairs outside, you’re living in a world of both music and silence, feeling a little disoriented by the one-sided song.
the walk to the outdoor chute is short in your oversized puffer jacket, flip-flops seemingly slapping against the floor in attempts of waking up all your neighbours beside you but thankfully they don’t seem to mind when you walk past their homes. it’s cold, feeling the snow that beats into the open corridors that lead to the rubbish chute. beside it, there’s a ledge that overlooks the other buildings, too.
with one swift step to the foot lever, the chute opens and you’re dumping the trash bag into the dirty, stained metal device and with a listening ear, you grin when you hear the bag travel through the tunnel and reach the bottom with a big plunk!, not really realising the ledge now held something.
or someone.
“h—”
if your slippers didn’t wake the neighbours up, your scream definitely did when spiderman himself hops off the ledge and leaps forward to place his palm over your mouth. it only fuels your desire to scream even more before you remember that your damn boyfriend is the vigilante that the police are looking for and citizens are rooting for more and more and that calms your racing heart just a bit.
but you still give him his due treatment . .
“what!” smack. “the!” smack. “fuck!” smack. “were!” smack. “you!” smack. “thinking?!” smack.
. . even if the widening of his spider-man mask eyes were adorable.
“sorry! sorry, sorry—” spider-man!gojo only continues to apologise but you can tell he’s enjoying it at least a little, hands gripping your biceps to help you to centre yourself. and as you predicted, once your boyfriend pulls off his mask, there’s a shit-eating grin and a cheeky glint in his eyes.
you muster the most unimpressed face you can — “really? i’m starting to think you’re not really sorry,” your mouth twists when you roll your eyes, getting ready to make a show of heading back into your house before he brings you into his arms. even with a hint of faux protest from you, you’re melting into his embrace, grumbling into his chest.
there’s a hint of wetness along his suit that you feel against your body, probably from the snow outside, but mostly you can feel the cold air against your hair and laboured breaths in your ear.
“i am! i missed you . .” he mumbles, suited fingers gripping your body tight against him like you were an apparition, “i just wanted to, uhm—”
it’s rare that you see your boyfriend having such a hard time with words, but it’s a cute sight when he pulls away and stumbles in his sentences and quickly removes the backpack that he’s webbed to the wall outside. there’s a noise of surprise from you as you watch him crawl outside on all fours and rip the backpack, scrambling to remove something from it.
and you’re so caught off-guard — in his hands are a ruined bouquet of flowers and a mixtape he’s put together for you — that you giggle at the state of it and coo at his downcast expression. he’s looking in the bag, outside, anywhere for what might’ve been the culprit to make the flowers turn out that way until he realises he had bought them a tad bit early and had been swinging around with it the whole day.
“aw . . satoru, they’re still pretty!” you take the gift with grateful hands, something you cherish despite his busy schedule of school and fighting villains. “but maybe don’t go on missions when you’ve got fresh flowers in your bag?”
satoru whines at that as he instinctively webs his backpack again, sulking until you’re leaping forward to give him another tight hug. alas, you would’ve preferred the comfort of his familiar hoodie but you can settle for the spandex of his suit as you squeeze him tight, ignoring the cold air that seeps into your bones.
“thank you, thank you ’toru . .” you smile, pulling away slightly before you take in the state of him. you didn’t have much time before, but now you can fully appreciate his white stark hair that matches the snow outside and the blue of his eyes that mirror his suit.
“it’s the thought that counts right?” he asks awkwardly, scratching his head with the hand that clutches his mask.
you burst out laughing, “yes. yes it indeed is,” you smoothen out his hair, but not before you’re forming an idea, “i’ll— i’ll go put these in water and see if i can salvage them. you, stay here.”
with one peck to his cheek, you’re off back to your house but the bouquet of flowers is only left on your bedside table. in your hands are something else, a scarf and beanie that you take back to the area of the rubbish chute.
it’s not a place you deem romantic, but you’d never pass up a surprise visit from your superhero boyfriend. when you get back he’s removing the fallen petals from his bag, interrupting his activity when you place the scarf around his neck.
“here,” you smile, wrapping it around once and tucking in the ends, “it’s cold.”
satoru looks at you like everything good in the world, a bright grin breaking through when your eyes meet his in the midst of your adjusting.
“just so you know, you might not see this scarf ever again, sweetness.”
you laugh, “why? cause it’s got my scent all over it?”
gojo shrugs and gestures, “partially, but also it might fall off while i’m doing big boy things and swingin’ around in the neighbourhood.”
you push his shoulder lightly and joke, “if my scarf touches the city ground, you’re never hearing from me again.”
and all he does is cross his heart and hold out his hand, “i humbly hold your promise to my heart, your royal highness.”
gently you pull him towards you with the scarf ends, careful not to choke him. there, your lips collide with his glossed ones that manage to stay like that despite the cold weather, while your chapped ones only surprise him. but he swallows the shock soon enough, humming into the kiss softly as he wraps his suited arms around you. you’re so warm, puffer jacket and all and his neck is already heating up from the scarf and his flustered state, enough heat to fuel him through the night.
when oxygen becomes scarce you find that you need to pull away, met again with his pretty eyes that soften just by looking at you, but you both know that he needs to go when the notifications on his phone don’t stop. it’s probably his trackers notifying him about the villain, so you help him put on his mask, making sure the eye holes fit exactly where it needs to go and the sewing lines up with the rest of his suit. the beanie goes on last.
“baby— i . . i just needed to come see you before i fight green goblin,” he mumbles, brushing hair from your face and even with the barrier between the both of you, you know he’s smiling under, “some good luck would suffice, don’t ya think?”
“it would. now, go.” you pat his cheek, pulling away reluctantly as he slings his backpack and you suddenly feel cold again. “stay safe, spider-man.”
satoru cannot wait until he’s in your arms again, so he lunges forward and pulls his mask up just to his nose to give you one last kiss and you indulge him; when your eyes open, he’s already on the ledge.
“merry christmas, baby.” you can see the familiar stunning smile and a soft confession before he’s hopping off and you’re running to it to watch him swing away with a loud, lovesick laugh that sounds a little too much like the star student, gojo satoru, but it doesn’t matter when you know you’re the only one who knows his secret.
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part two
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yoichiris · 1 year
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better than letting go | nagi seishiro x reader
✩ accidental sugar daddy nagi ✩ pro-player!nagi, roommates au, angst to fluff, heavy pining, miscommunication
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"just go live with nagi," reo says offhandedly, "if you clean up after him, he'll let you stay there forever."
you open your mouth to refute the suggestion, because reo knows how you feel about nagi, knows you couldn't possibly stay in an enclosed space with him hours on day on end without jumping him... but before you do, nagi himself interrupts.
"i'm okay with that," he replies in his usual laid-back voice.
you glare at him because you think he sounds more excited about the cleaning part.
"you're going to be homeless," reo shrugs, "why not?"
you return your glare at reo, "why can't you just house me in one of your billion-dollar properties."
"then i'd have to ask my old man for permission," he waves you off like the asshole he is, "no thanks."
"what's wrong with living with me?" nagi wonders, and you hate him for acting like he wants to live with you so badly.
"look, just clean nagi's dirty underwear for the next year while you finish your degree and you won't have to worry about a thing," reo explains, as if there aren't other factors like your five-year infatuation with nagi, and maybe the fact that nagi lives like he doesn't know what a vacuum does.
you sigh, thinking about the end of your lease and the astronomical increase in rent incoming, and how much you don't want to work your stupid part-time job, and give in.
of course it's not that bad. all you had to do was keep your feelings to yourself.
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"nagi," you hiss, "nagi, wake up, you're going to be late!"
he only stirs, covers tucked under his chin, as if he's hiding from you. you inch the door wider, stepping into his room hesitantly. he doesn't even make a move.
"nagi," you whine, crouching at the side of his bed.
he makes a sound of acknowledgment but keeps his eyes closed, so you sit cross-legged on the floor, watching his sleeping form. he's so cute like this, you think, yearning.
it's been a week since you moved in with nagi. in a lot of ways, he's exactly what you thought he would be like in private: he's rarely home, and when he is, he's quiet.
you thought he would spend more time in his room, under the covers, but you realize quickly he's furnished his couch with the coziest throw and likes to curl under there when he is home.
it makes your heart warm when you come home to see nagi, his toes sticking out from underneath the blanket, waiting for you to eat dinner.
"...what time is it?" you hear him mumble.
your heart skips a beat when he opens his eyes, groggy with sleep, and touches your arm. you sigh shakily.
"too late," you smile softly at him, "i'll prep your pre-workout so you can take it with you, okay?"
"thanks," he tells you, his voice raspy.
he smiles back at you and reaches out, poking you in the forehead. when you feel his fingers touch your skin, you think you'll drop dead right there.
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"are you gonna move out after you graduate?" reo asks, nine months into your arrangement.
you've been avoiding even thinking about it. you're busy with graduation, you justify to yourself, you don't have time to look for a new place yet.
"hm?" you hum innocently, "i dunno. haven't had time to think about it."
"nagi asked me 'bout it," he mentions casually, and you freeze. is he counting the days down until you leave?
you and nagi have settled into a daily routine: you wake him up, he goes to practice, you study after class, and when he comes back late at night, he hangs out with you for an hour before he has to sleep. mostly, you and nagi sit on either end of the couch, sharing the cozy throw, and read manga.
it's lulled you into a false sense of security, you think.
"oh," is all you manage to say. maybe he finds you bothersome? maybe he wants his own space back?
reo hits you over the head, lightly. "what's that face for? it's been going good living with nagi, right?"
and it was. it was everything you had dreamed of, and it shocked you how well you got along with nagi. you think of how, in early mornings when both of you (mostly you) are rushing out the door, bumping hips in the kitchen, even then it seems like you were working together.
"yep," you reply, sipping your iced coffee, "too good."
reo takes a bite of his food, and suggests, "maybe you two should just keep living together. you can split rent or something."
"can't rely on nagi forever," you protest.
"why not?" he says, just like he did when he had first suggested this whole thing, "isn't that what you want?"
you kick him under the table, angry that he was bringing your feelings up now. yes, you want to scream, it is. but nothing has changed between you and nagi, nothing at all.
you're always trying to keep your feelings in check: when he peers over your shoulder as you're cooking, the warmth of his body hot asgainst yours. or how adorable he looks when he comes out of the shower, his shaggy hair falling over his eyes, his face shiny. those are the times your feelings want to burst.
"just talk to nagi about it," reo nudges. you're not sure if he's talking about the housing or the feelings.
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you're curled up with nagi on the couch when you muster the courage to say anything. your legs are touching his under the blanket, and you feel as if that might connect you to him.
there's a month left until you graduate, which is absolutely not enough time for you to find a place to live, but you were scared. you hear the victory sounds of nagi's mobile game, so you decide now's better than never.
"so," you start, and his gaze drifts over to you, "i haven't really found a new place to live yet."
it's quiet. "s'okay," nagi mumbles, not even looking up from his phone, "you can move out whenever."
well, at least that answers your question on whether or not he wants you to move out. at least he wasn't pushing you out the door, you tell yourself.
you don't know what else to say. do you want me to leave so badly? you want to ask. can't i stay with you? you think, desperate. but those words don't leave your mouth.
"are you coming to my graduation?" you ask lightly, and regret it when you realize that you've opened yourself up again.
he shrugs. "dunno my prac schedule yet, but reo's going right?" he replies, as if reo could replace him.
you feel cold despite the blanket, and sink deeper into the couch, feeling drained. from the corner of your eye, you see nagi tapping away at his phone, signaling to you that he's still deep in his game. you take your legs away, knowing he wouldn't even notice.
"yep," you say and awkwardly crawl out of your warm spot on the couch. "i'm gonna go to bed first, nagi."
"g'night," he replies, finally looking up as you pass him with your head bowed. he watches you walk back to your room, and doesn't take his eyes off of you until you close the door behind you.
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you eventually begged reo to find you an empty unit in one of his father's rental properties.
he had been insistent you just talk to nagi, as if he knew something you didn't, but you had to explain that you did, and nagi had no objections to you moving out, and you weren't going to wait until he shoved you out the door to move on.
it has been so awkward since that small conversation you'd had with nagi. maybe it was you, feeling out of place, like you had reached a point of no return.
waking him up in the mornings were now rushed, gently pushing him awake and scurrying off before he was fully awake. leaving his pre-workout on the counter instead of handing it to him. sitting at the kitchen table under the guise of studying instead of curling up on the couch with him.
it's not that he'd changed, you knew, it's that you couldn't keep playing pretend with your feelings anymore.
you hear the front door click as nagi walks into the apartment.
"hey," he says, pushing open the door to your room, "i'm home."
you turn from your position at the front of your closet, where you were just about to take out your suitcase. "oh, hey," you reply lamely, "welcome home."
he hovers, something he's never really done, as if he knows you have something to say, as if he had something to say. the words were stuck in your throat.
"reo told me you're moving out," nagi finally tells you.
traitor, you curse at reo. "uh, yeah," you smile tightly, "i didn't want to keep bothering you, so..."
"you're not bothering me," he replies, maybe a little too quickly, but you don't notice.
there's another silence. what else can you say?
"you don't have to leave," nagi continues, "i don't mind if you stay here."
but do you want me to stay? you want to ask. the way he says it so casually, as if it didn't matter whether you stayed or not, only solidified your decision to be away from him. at least then you could just be his friend without delusions of sharing a life with him so intimately.
"nah," you try to keep your voice steady, "it's probably better this way."
"i like living with you, though," nagi shuffles his hair uncomfortably as he says it.
you laugh, maybe a little bitterly, "because i cook and clean for you?"
"no," he says quickly, looking flustered, "no, i just like it when you're here."
but why? you want to scream. your heart pounds, because you feel like you're close to something, but at the same time it feels so far. sometimes you're convinced that he knows about your feelings, that sometimes you two are talking about them even though the topic is unrelated.
"it was nice," you settle on saying, as if it wasn't life changing, "but i can afford living on my own now."
"i don't want you to leave," nagi almost sounds like he's whining, and your heart skips another beat.
"why not?" you say, frustrated, breathless, "we can't just keep living together forever."
"what if i want to?" he says, and you feel like the conversation has become out of control.
your mind is racing. what is happening right now, you try to breathe through your nose. what is he talking about right now, you try to ask yourself.
"nagi—" you stop yourself, trying to get a grip, "what are you saying?"
you're looking at him now and you're surprised by the determination in his eyes. it's what he looks like when he's really focused, like he is when he plays soccer.
"i want to live with you forever," he declares, sounding defiant, as if that wasn't what you wanted.
but you're not sure what it means. you only know that five years is a long time to be holding onto your feelings.
"i don't understand," you mumble, staring at the floor, quieter than before, "i love you, nagi. not as a friend. so no, i can't just live with you forever."
you feel him before you see him, his body towering over you. when you look up, he's pouting. he puts his hand on top of your head, gentle, warm.
"why do you look so sad," he wonders, as if he hadn't heard what you just said, "that's why i want to live with you forever, dummy."
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you wake up to nagi wrapped around you.
"sei," you groan, turning in his arms to look at his sleeping face, "you're heavy."
he mutters, groggy, incoherent, and you can't help but press a kiss to his nose. his hair is falling all over his face, but your eyes memorize every slope. he squeezes you harder.
"why are you awake so early," he mutters, nudging your chest with his head, "it's my day off."
you soothe your hand down his bare back, feeling the tight muscles underneath your fingers. he works so hard, and his days off are so rare. you wiggle some more, to loosen his arms.
"i know," you smile, "but let me go make breakfast, kay? i'm hungry."
he shakes his head and whines. "no," he refuses, "just go back to sleep."
you relax, unable to tell him no. mornings with nagi often go like this, except that you usually have enough self-control to get him up. but sometimes, you remember what it was like wanting him so bad, that now you remind yourself to enjoy it.
as a partner, nagi is clingy, vulnerable. but he's also determined, and sometimes, the intensity with which he wants you catches you off guard.
"y/n," he calls, his breath hot against your neck, "i'm happy you're here."
you close your eyes, nodding. "me, too."
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5K notes · View notes
goldenlikedayl1ght · 6 months
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lover, you should've come over - m. schmidt
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a/n: you guys should have seen this one coming! as always i appreciate any likes and reblogs and hope you enjoy :) warnings: suggestive themes, big angst, lots of talk about tattoos and pain and needles, mike having horrible anxiety and commitment issues, reader is mostly gender neutral except for one thing ! tattoo aftercare, hurt/comfort, kissing word count: 3.6k summary: you get a tattoo, and it terrifies mike. mostly because he realizes how much you love him. pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader now playing: lover, you should've come over - jeff buckley "my body turns and yearns/for a sleep that won't ever come/it's never over/my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder."
Penny has done almost all of your tattoos, save for the stick and poke star you gave yourself while you were way too high to be handling that sort of equipment, and a few flash designs you’ve gotten for holidays. And usually, you keep it simple and easy, pitching a design idea and getting a finished stencil a few hours later.
But this time, you go into the shop a few months before you plan to get the tattoo and describe to her what you want. She’s shocked that you want a half sleeve—It’s a big step, she tells you, and it’ll mean sitting for a few hours while she does her work. It’ll be painful, and the design will take a few weeks to get made, because she wants to give you the best possible design.
She does good work. When you visit again in about three weeks, you put down a deposit and make an official date to get it done. October 9th.
You go home that night to your small, but warm home to find your boyfriend trying to make chicken parm. His goal all year has been to learn how to cook, not just to make things out of a box. You know a bit better how to cook, but you let him improve his skills, always providing helpful, gentle critiques.
Abby is worse at being gentle.
She’s brutal with her brother’s cooking, and even though Mike loves your gentle words, he appreciates Abby’s feedback, and just wants her to eat a full plate of food before bed each night.
Tonight, his food smells good. You mentioned about a month ago how you missed your mom’s chicken parm, and since then, he’s been reading and researching different recipes at work. Ever since he quit working at Freddy’s, he’s put down the book of dreams and has picked up cookbooks, working his way up slowly.
You tell him he’ll be making Thanksgiving Dinner in no time. You kiss his jaw when you say that, and later, he returns the favor by placing a kiss to your shoulder.
You go to him, standing in the kitchen, as he squints at the recipe book in front of him. He wears washed blue jeans, an old Foo Fighters tee shirt and a pair of blue fuzzy socks. A towel hangs over his shoulder as he mutters to himself, as he gets ready to put some garlic bread in the oven.
You’re still in your work clothes, though, it’s not as if you’re wearing anything fancy. Just a different pair of jeans, and a tee shirt with your shop’s logo on it. Your hair is messy, and you smell vaguely of dirt. The smell has become comforting to him in his time knowing you.
You step closer to him, a hand resting gently on his shoulder. He relaxes at your touch.
“Hey, Mike.” You say softly, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“Hey, how was your day?”
“Not too bad. The food smells pretty good.”
“You think so?” His voice is hopeful, especially since he’s trying to live up to your memories of the dish as a kid. It’s his way of thanking you for being so good to him while he’s gotten his shit together.
“Mhm. I’m gonna go wash up and have Abby help me set the table.” You tell him. You kiss his jaw quickly before heading off to the bathroom to scrub the dirt from beneath your fingernails. You wash your face and arms too and begin to realize how domestic this all is.
You never saw yourself having kids, and never thought of yourself dating someone who did.
And you still never think about having kids, but you did find yourself treating Abby as if she is your own. This has nothing to do with how much you adore her brother. Abby is just easy to love. You wonder if anyone’s ever told her that.
When your work boots find themselves at the end of your bed, you change into a muscle tee. You’re awfully fond of them. You find a pair of Mike’s fuzzy socks and slip them on too. You take a moment to stare at your shoulder in the mirror, imagining how it’ll look when ink covers it. Most of your tattoos are on your legs, and for a long time, this arm has been bare of any ink. You’ve been saving it for this project for years.
You go to Abby’s room and knock gently before entering. You find her painting at this aisle you got for her birthday. She’s been working on this painting for a few days now, and it’s turning out quite nice.
“Hey, Abs.” You say softly, and she puts her paintbrush down to give you this big, toothy grin. “Go wash up and help me set the table?” You ask.
“Sure.” She hums and starts to skip along to the bathroom, but you stop her at the door.
“And remember, even if Mike’s food is bad, what do we say?”
“Mm, this food is so good and not horrible at all!”
“Abby.”
She sighs.
“This is unlike anything you’ve made before, and I appreciate the effort?”
“That’s it.” You let her go wash up, and then go to set the table.
When Mike eventually serves dinner, you’re starved. You don’t care if it’s bad, or if it’s burnt, you know you’ll like it because you weren’t able to take a lunch break that day. But it genuinely looks good.
He cuts up Abby’s food and puts the plate in front of her before sitting down and looking to you two for a reaction. You take a bite, and you have to pause.
Did Mike really cook something not just edible, but… good?
Not fine, not decent, really good.
“Mike, this is—”
“Amazing!” Abby gasps, going in for another bite. His cheeks flush.
“You guys don’t have to pretend, it’s alright—”
“No, Mike, we’re not pretending, it’s really good!” You defend, going in for a second bite yourself. “Try it!”
He does, and he even looks shocked at the quality of the food he’s produced. And it sets the mood for the whole dinner, until you eventually blurt out,
“I booked a tattoo appointment for next week.”
“What are you getting?” Mike can’t ever admit this to you, but he adores your tattoos. He thinks the placement of them are all wonderful, even if they’re smaller. He likes to kiss them, to trace his fingers over them, to just admire them in the summer.
“It’s a surprise.” You tell him. Owning your own shop and being your own boss has its perks. You have no worries about people judging you for your half sleeve, deciding that you can just ban them from your shop.
Your conversation drifts off and you focus on other things. When you’re done, you and Mike begin to clean up with him, letting some of the pan soak in the sink. You sit on the counter, drying some of the plates as Mike rinses.
“Thank you for dinner.” You tell him.
“I’m glad you liked it.” Comfortable silence fills the room. “You’re really not gonna tell me what you’re getting?”
“I told you, it’s a surprise.” You smile softly. He dries his hand and steps between your legs. His hands land on either side of you, caging you in.
“Tease.” He mumbled, leaning forward, and kissing your shoulder. A hand goes to his hair, your fingers tangling in his locks.
“I’m not teasing, I’m just being a little secretive.” You tell him, playing with his hair. You’re a fan of the scruff he’s been growing out lately.
“Isn’t it gonna hurt?”
“Yeah, but I’ll take breaks and remember to eat.” You tell him. “This isn’t my first tattoo, Mike.”
“I know, baby.” He says softly, “I just get worried—”
“You get worried about me? And yet, when I’m worried about you, you ignore me but—” He cuts you off with a kiss, and your hands land on his jaw, the scruff tickling your face.
• • •
The ink swirls around your shoulder, a moth wrapping around your shoulder and reaching to the top of your arm. Vines wrap around the moth, as flowers bloom in different places. Your birth flower is one of them, as well as your mother’s. You also place Abby and Mike’s around the moth, maybe protecting it. Thorns poke out of some of the vines, and the ink covers your shoulder, and down to just above your elbow.
You got it done on a Saturday afternoon, leaving late enough so Mike could sleep in without having to deal with Abby, but being able to give them some time to relax together.
It takes a few hours, and by the end of it, you’re exhausted. As with all your other tattoos, you’re sore, but this is a new type of sore. You ache for Mike’s hands on you, to hold you and kiss your shoulders, even though he can’t kiss your left shoulder for a few days.
The second skin will remain on your arm for a day or two, and then you’ll have to go through the process of moisturizing your tattoo.
You have Penny take lots of photos of it before you head home, Mike and Abby both waiting in anticipation for you to come home and show them your new ink. You’re excited to show them, since there’s a connection to them in the art. 
When you open the door, Abby runs to you and immediately starts to look for the ink in question. She gasps when she sees it, all wrapped up on your arm.
“It’s a moth,” You tell her, “With my favorite plants.” You crouch down to point out different plans in the works. “These are my mom’s birth flowers, they’re carnations.” You tell her, “Do you know what these are?” You point to another flower.
Abby shakes her head, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the fresh, raw flesh of the person she considers to be her caregiver.
“They’re lily of the valley flowers. They’re your birth flower.” You reach out and tuck hair behind her ear. Then, you point to the third flower. “And these? They’re honey suckles. They’re Mike’s birth flower.”
Mike watches your interaction, listening to your explanation of the tattoo. Suddenly, this anxiety pools in his chest. You’ve been living together for a few months, but somehow a symbol of him and Abby being engraved on your skin makes things all too real.
He could cry.
“Did you get the flowers because you’re a flower person?” You grin, knowing she doesn’t remember the title of your job.
“Botanist, you mean? Sort of, but you two mean a lot to me, and I wanted to tribute something to you guys.” You confess.
She grins and turns to look at Mike.
“I wanna be a tattoo artist when I’m older.” Mike is pale with anxiety.
He wants to tell you it looks good, that it’s brilliantly done, but he doesn’t find it in himself. He wants to run, to abandon this relationship at the door, to never speak to you again to avoid the fact that he wants you desperately and thinks he might marry you one day.
He walks off to the bathroom, and he’s unsure if it’s to throw up or to cry.
You’re disappointed, because you wanted him to like it desperately, since this tattoo is now on you forever, and you wanted it to be a tribute to him. It almost hurts you that he doesn’t love it. Or at least pretend to. Instead, his disdain is visible on his face, and you do your best to turn your attention back to Abby.
“Wanna help me make dinner?” You smile softly, and she nods.
“Did your tattoo hurt?” She acts gently.
“Yeah, but with a good artist it goes quickly, and they don’t aim to torture you.” You explain, as you begin to make mac and cheese.
As she sets the table, you turn back to her and ask, “Can you go get Mike for dinner?” She nods and skips along to your bedroom, where Mike sits on the bed, frustrated with himself.
“Mike?” She asks gently. “We’re making mac and cheese.”
“I’m not hungry.” He says softly, and Abby can just tell something isn’t right.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t feel well..”
“Oh…” she suspects this is a lie.
“I’m sorry. Tell them I said sorry.” Tears prick Mike’s eyes. He’s unsure why he’s like this, and why he can’t just admire your tattoo and love you and tell you how much you mean to him. But he can’t. He gets the words out. He wants to love you so badly but something in him demands to not let him be happy.
He lays on the bed and tries to stay quiet as he cries.
• • •
Hours later, you sit at the table anxiously, your hands tapping on the wood, a cold bowl of Mac and Cheese on the table. You decide to get up to clean up dinner, and just as you do, soft steps creep out of the bedroom and into the kitchen area.
Mike stands and stares at the cold dinner that he feels bad for rejecting. He should just tell you what’s bothering him. Instead, his gaze turns and looks at you, doing the dishes.
“You didn’t have to make dinner.”
“You didn’t seem well, and Abby needed to eat.”
This comment sparks a much larger fire in Mike, and he isn’t sure why he’s angered by how much you care about his sister, his world.
“You aren’t her mom, you don’t have any reason to make her dinner or put her to bed—”
“Yeah, Mike, well, You’re not really her dad.” You glare. “I’ve taken care of her for months, fed her, made sure she’s taken care of, I’ve picked her up from school, and now suddenly, you’ve decided I have no right to just care about her? Fuck you, if you don’t love me anymore, then don’t take it out on your sister, talk to me like a god damn grown up and stop acting like a child.” You spit, angrily turning back around to keep doing your dishes so that Mike doesn’t see your red face or your tears.
With your back turned, he can see the moth on your shoulder blade, and he aches to trace the lines of your tattoos, kissing the skin around it. But cotton fills his mouth every time he tries to sew the gap between you two.
And your words strike him. He knows why you might think he doesn’t love you anymore, but he does. He loves you deeply and finds himself enamored with you, and yet he can’t even compliment this tattoo that you have obviously put a ton of time, effort and money into.
“I’m sorry—” You start, but he cuts you off.
“I think we should give each other some space.” The words hit you like a ton of brick, and you’re ready to get on your hands and knees and beg him, beg him to not leave, beg him to forgive you (for what, you don’t know), beg him to touch you, beg him to want you.
“What..?”
“I just think I need some space.” He said softly, leaning against the kitchen doorway. You want to ask if he’s hungry, to kiss away all the sadness in the worry lines of his face.
You nod, bite your tongue. He wants to hold you and tell you he doesn’t mean it.
“I’ll sleep on the couch.” You mumble, sighing softly. You also plan to leave early before Mike gets up.
Mike steps towards you, maybe to apologize. You step past him to go get pajamas from your dresser, not letting him grasp onto you. You don’t want him to apologize now. You want him to sit in his regret and you want to sit in your anger.
As you attempt to fall asleep that night, you pray Abby didn’t hear your conversation with him.
Both of you try to drift to sleep and salt streams from your eyes and into your ears.
• • •
A few days pass. Your tattoo starts to heal, and you take the second skin off your shoulder and arm and begin the process of aftercare.
You and Mike exchanged a total of about thirty words over the next few days. Abby noticed your angst towards each other and tried to get the two of you to make up. She figured that Mike was being an idiot, and just needed to apologize.
She was right, but he didn’t want to admit that to his kid sister.
It’s hell. You have to pretend that you don’t want to beg for his forgiveness, but you know that neither of you are blameless. Your pride tells you not to be the first one to cave. His anxiety tells him that you hate him.
When he gets home one afternoon from work, you’re napping in bed. He knows the couch isn’t that comfortable and he’s sure you’re home because you’d mentioned to Abby that you weren’t feeling well. You probably didn’t expect to still be asleep when he got home.
But you’re wearing one of his shirts. He kisses your head and leaves a glass of water and cold medicine on the nightstand, before going to make himself busy somewhere else, as if not to disrupt your rest.
He takes one last glance at you before he leaves.
One night, he comes home from work late. You take it as an opportunity to take a hot shower after putting Abby to bed and taking a few minutes to sit in the bedroom that you missed while sleeping on the couch.
Besides, your bones ached from that uncomfortable couch while you were spoiled, used to Mike’s warm bed.
You barely hear the front door open as you continue your nightly routine. You need to apply lotion to your tattoo, to keep it moisturized as it heals. But you find yourself struggling to reach your shoulder.
Mike watches you from the doorway of the bedroom, biting his lip. The bags around his eyes have grown darker since your fight.
He takes off his boots first, and then strips his top down to an undershirt, then takes off his jeans. If you weren’t so busy, you’d acknowledge how handsome he looked in just his boxers and a gray tee shirt.
The bed dips behind you, as he sits behind you. You stop what you’re doing.
“Give me the lotion.” He says softly, and with a sigh of defeat, maybe even a bit of relief, you hand him the lotion. He squirts some lotion on his hands, then begins to rub it into your skin. You shudder at the contact, and he feels tears in his eyes again. He missed you. “I’m sorry I didn’t say I liked your tattoo. I love it.”
“I’m sorry I said you didn’t love me, and I’m sorry I said you weren’t Abby’s dad.”
“But I’m not—”
“But you are her parent.”
“So are you.”
A silence fills the room.
“What happened on Saturday?”
“I got anxious when I saw Abby and I’s birth flowers on you. Like how much I loved you was just engraved in your skin, and I didn’t know what to do with it. I didn’t mean to push you away, I was just terrified. Terrified that you’re going to leave. Terrified that I won’t be able to protect you.” His voice cracks at the end, and he leans his head against your shoulder that isn’t inked.
Your head turns to kiss his head.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know..” he says softly, but a part of him doesn’t believe it. You and Abby, you’re the only ones who have stayed, the only ones he’s been able to save. He doesn’t know who he is without the two of you. “I’m sorry, I was such a dick.”
“Yeah, but so was I.” You tell him.
“I love your tattoo. I love all of your tattoos. All of them. I love kissing them. I’m desperate for this one to heal so I can kiss this shoulder again.”
“Thank you for helping me with it. It itches like a son of a bitch.” You tell him, a weak smile on your face. Tears stain your shirt.
“Can we go back to normal now? I’ve missed you.”
“I miss you so much.” You turn and wrap your arms around him, the warmth radiating from his body as he holds you close. You wonder if either of you will ever be able to let yourselves be loved.
You hope to let each other try.
You kiss him, salty tears mixing, as you hold him close. He’s careful of your tattoo, not wanting to scratch or hurt you. He’s gentle in a way that betrays him. He desires you in this way that transcends want or need, something that is vital, as if it were breathing.
Yet his hands remain respectful. Gentle. You’re the one that adjusts your position to be over him, as you gently push him back against the bed, kissing him deeper.
He decides he will marry you someday. That maybe the idea of being with you for the rest of his life isn’t scary.
Not when you kiss him like that.
1K notes · View notes
garoujo · 11 months
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✩ ˛˚ . 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓟𝓡𝓔𝓣𝓔𝓝𝓓 𝓣𝓞 𝓑𝓔 𝓐𝓢𝓛𝓔𝓔𝓟 𝓐𝓡𝓞𝓤𝓝𝓓 𝓣𝓗𝓔𝓜 & 𝓨𝓞𝓤𝓡 𝓒𝓗𝓘𝓛𝓓𝓡𝓔𝓝 feat. JUJUTSU KAISEN!
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ characters: gojo satoru, itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, nanami kento & geto suguru!
warnings! sfw, dad!au, all characters written age 22+, f!reader (they’re referred to as ‘mommy’) ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! guys i literally found these hcs written & finished at the very bottom of my drafts so i’m posting idc, theyre v old & short so they may suck but pls accept my love!
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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU
you hear him gossiping to your daughter who’s only a toddler when they return home, hearing her gasp dramatically at his words as they get closer. “sweet thi— oh?” gojo cuts himself off, followed by a few seconds of silence before you hear him whisper “hm, looks like mommy’s all tired out, princess. maybe we should just forget movie night and eat dessert before dinner.”
his words are goading and you try to hide the pout on your lips when they’re followed by a few of his heavy footsteps as he approaches you, like he’s trying to size you up for a reaction — looking for it as he pays careful attention to your features like he doesn’t have ever inch of you mapped out by memory.
it seems like an instant before they’re by the side of the couch, crouching down slightly to place a gentle kiss to your cheek, soft despite the way his lips linger on the skin as they move against you — enough for you to be able to feel the signature smirk you can only assume paints his pretty features right.
“really, sweet girl? i thought you knew me better than to pretend to be asleep.” gojo drawls and you almost jolt when he whips the blanket off of you with a gasp. “awake? all this time? princess i just don’t think they wanted to watch movies with us.” his tone laced with teasing as his lips curl into a smug grin — while you watch him turn to your daughter with a hand on his hip, yes you’re roped into it, not that you’re complaining.
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✩ ˛˚ . ITADORI YUUJI
you hear their shared footsteps running up the hall as you quickly pull the blanket over your body, closing your eyes just as they burst through the door, closely followed by a gasp from your husband before you hear your son copy him — you always found it charming the way he truly seen him as his idol.
“oh no, mommy’s asleep so we gotta be quiet okay?” yuuji whisper shouts, a smaller voice piping up after with a just as excitable “bu’ you said we should never sleep with no goodnigh’ kiss.” your son tries to whisper back and you want to laugh at how loud they’re both talking while also trying to be quiet.
“you’re right! good job remembering!” you’re trying your best to bite back the smile you can feel twitch at your lips — the interaction making you feel warm in the best sort of way, but you hear them both begin to approach you before there’s a suspicious silence and you wonder if you’ve been caught.
“okay you go first then i’ll go!” you finally hear your husband say and you want to smile when you feel your sons lips press against your cheek before he pulls away again, whispering as he does “goodnigh’ mommy” followed by yuuji’s shortly after with a “goodnight baby.” hearing them leave after with a very quiet high five “wanna play a game now?”
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✩ ˛˚ . NANAMI KENTO
you hear your husband’s chuckle as he returns home from picking up your daughter from school, your daughter rambling about what she learned before they enter the living room, noticing you asleep on the couch before nanami shushes her gently.
“how about you tell me all about it in the kitchen, princess? let’s let your mom rest.” he grumbles and it’s silent for a moment until you hear a cabinet close, feeling the familiar touch of your husbands lips on your skin when he leans down to place a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“sleep well, sweetheart.” nanami breathes, calloused thumb smoothing over your cheek soothingly incase he woke you, but allowing your daughter to kiss the same place he did before she’s copying her dads movements and tracing over the same spot with her smaller hand.
“that’s it, good job, princess. you want to help daddy make them some tea?” he grumbles, followed by a whispered “yes” before they move quietly to the kitchen.
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✩ ˛˚ . FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
it’s quiet when you hear megumi and your daughter return home from school, her smaller hand still wrapped in his bigger one as he carries her pink bag pack over his shoulder with a pout on his lips (he knows he spoils her).
but as soon as they meet your figure draped so dreamily on the couch, pretending to be asleep — all sound dies down before you’re only met with light shuffling, the noise accompanied by the feeling of a soft blanket being draped over you a few moments later.
“like this.” megumi whispers, tucking it underneath you gently, he’s being careful not to wake you and you can’t deny the way it makes your heart swell. but not as much as it does when you feel the same movements on the other side — except by a smaller pair of hands this time and you can almost imagine the soft, proud smile on his face with the little. “is mommy warm now?”
your daughter tries to whisper, the sound comes out a little louder than intended, but you don’t mind when you hear your husband huff out a laugh after. “almost.” megumi hums, silence following his words before you feel him rest his lips along your forehead a few moments later with a soft breath. “there, perfect.”
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✩ ˛˚ . GETO SUGURU
you hear the gentle of hum of geto’s soft laugh as he returns home with your daughter after the school run, both of their shared footsteps shuffling down the hallway as you work to quickly make yourself look comfortable on the couch. you lie back, pulling the blankets up to your chin just a few moments before their careful steps stop in the doorway, followed by a gentle shhh from your dark haired boyfriend as you hear them both fall silent.
“is mommy sleeping?” your daughter asks before it’s followed by a set of heavy steps—confirming that’s it’s exactly who you think it is when you sense his presence squat down at the side of the couch as his dark eyes probably settle on your features.
“seems that way.” geto grunts and you give it a few moments, hoping he hasn’t picked up on your little act before you feel his fingertips brush along your cheek, followed by a sigh before he’s falling into his place beside you softly. he moves you carefully until you’re pressed in his lap and you feel his other arm raise as your daughter asks “what’re you doing?” despite the way she approaches anyway.
“hm? i think i should get to cuddle with my favourite girls. cmeer.” and you think maybe you should keep up your little act a while longer as you nuzzle yourself into his chest with a content sigh when his lips press softly against your temple. but then he speaks against your skin and you can’t help the way you have to bite back a grin. “you really think you can trick me, pretty girl? i thought you knew me better than that.”
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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withleeknow · 29 days
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how he would take care of you during shark week. ⤷ chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin
pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, lil fluff, lil angst, mentions of physical pain bc it's shark week and we're cramping lol ok, unedited bc i wrote this a couple months ago and i just wanted to post smth today and i'm currently half asleep word count: 0.4k
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi
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minho comes home to a quiet house, four of his favorite beings nowhere to be found. he takes off his shoes, hangs up his jacket, put his keys where he can easily fetch them the next morning, and ventures into the living room. though, he soon stops in his tracks when his eyes find the couch situated in the middle of the room.
there’s a human-sized lump completely hidden under a fleece blanket on the cream-colored sofa, surrounded by soonie, doongie, and dori, all curled up and sleeping peacefully.
doesn’t take a genius to figure out what the lump is.
you, his love.
minho approaches the couch with careful footsteps and a pretty good guess as to why you’ve resorted to being a lump for the day. the tracker app on his phone did notify him that it should happen any day now.
when he sits down by your feet, soonie shoots up with a hiss before calming down immediately afterward, upon the realization that it's just his other owner.
“hey,” minho calls softly, placing a hand on your leg. “you sleeping?”
there’s a grunt, then the lump moves. he assumes it’s you shaking your head under there.
“does it hurt?” he asks.
the lump shifts again - a nod, he thinks - but this time, it’s accompanied by a softer sound, nearly a whimper.
he sighs, because he hates to see you in pain. hates that this helpless feeling has become a monthly visitor in your home. the first two days are often the worst for you.
“i’ll be right back,” he says, and again, he doesn’t get anything other than an incoherent noise, but it’s not like he was expecting a verbal response anyway.
minho returns a few minutes later with all of the essentials that you were in too much discomfort to get yourself. your trusty heating pad, a glass of warm water and pills, your favorite mango almond chocolate, a fluffy pillow so your neck doesn’t hurt from lying on the couch for too long.
peeling the blanket off so that he can prop the pillow under your head and give you the heating pad, he practically winces when he sees the pained expression on your face. you open your eyes to find him, and you look like you're close to crying. this month must be worse than usual.
“i’ll make you something to eat and then you can take your painkillers,” he tells you.
“thank you.” the words come out weak, but minho knows you mean them.
soft lips press themselves against your forehead, full of love and an unspoken i wish i could do more for you.
“i love you. give me twenty minutes, okay?”
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permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki @astronomicallyyy @alm334 @lashaemorow (italicized = can’t tag)
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 02.04.2024]
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bet-on-me-13 · 10 months
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Stranded Danny AU
Danny gets pulled into a faraway Dimension by a Villain one day, just after the events of Phantom Planet. He is barely 15.
He has no way to get back, but he does manage to unlock the power to make Portals. Unfortunately, none of the dimensions he ends up in are his own, and none have enough Ectoplasm to open portals for very long. It takes up to a week to scrounge up enough Ecto to open a single Portal into the next dimension over.
And none of these worlds have Technology strong enough to take him home either. The few times he did find some tech that could potentially get him home, it never worked or it was destroyed before he could finish it.
He spends well over 30 years of his own Personal Timeline trying to get back to his home dimension, constantly gathering scraps of Ectoplasm and Tech until the day he eventually collected enough to build a safe way home.
But time does not pass the same across dimensions.
What to him was a 30 year long Journey, was actually just 10 for his home Dimension.
And they had to move on without him.
Sam became a Business Woman who used her money to fund Nature Preservation Organizations. She hired Pamela Isley and helped her through her powers when she became Poison Ivy (still a Villain, but secretly working for Sam)
Tucker got a high ranking job at Star Labs, and helped Cyborg come to terms with his new life when he became a cyborg. He even helped upgrade his tech a few times.
Jazz became a successful Psychiatrist, and now works under Daina Lance as one of the Justice League's top Therapists, specifically their Child Psychologist for young Heroes
Ellie took his place as a Hero and became the new protector of Amity after he dissappear. After the Justice League was formed, she joined them and became one of their best members, always working and nor really taking many breaks.
They always wondered what happened to Danny, and spent many years trying to figure out what happened to him, but never succeeded. They finally began to assume that he was fully dead after a few years of searching. They had enough time to come to terms with it.
...
So one night, while a 22 yr old Ellie is resting on one of her rare days off, she gets called in by the League about a possible Dimensional Breach near her Home Town. JLD was deployed to investigate, and she was asked to tag along since she was the Resident Hero of the area.
But she refuses, thinking it's just some random ghost trying to enter the Living Realm illegally after she began regulating the Portal. JLD would be able to handle it on their own, let her sleep on her day off!
Meanwhile, JLD has located the spot where the Dimensional Breach is about to appear. They surround the Area, and prepare to interrogate whoever is about to appear, or deal with them if need be.
Space begins to tear apart as the fabric of Reality breaks apart at the seams. And from that wound in existence, an Adult Danny steps out. He is 44 years old, and looks like a less buff version of Dan without the mustache (basically imagine Danny as Ford Pines from Gravity Falls)
The JLD can sense that he is strong, but not too much so. It feels like he is powerful, but like that power has been starved for a while.
"Who are you?" Asks Wonderwoman, ready to jump into battle if needed. "What are your intentions in this World?"
Danny ignores them. He is staring into the Night Sky, eyes wide. The Constellations he hadn't seen in 30 years were there. The stars were in the right locations. He takes a deep breath, tasting the amount of Ectoplasm in thr Air. This is it. He's home. He's finally home.
"Finally" He says breathlessly. A slightly manic Grin on his face.
"What the hell does that mean?" Demands Constantine. The grin had unsettled him, and he began preparing a few spells just to be sure.
Danny ignored him again, this time deciding to close his eyes and finally eat his fill of Ectoplasm for the first time in 30 years. He was ravenous, this was the first decent Meal of Ectoplasm he had been able to have in 30 years. He was giddy, he was so happy to finally be home.
However the Heroes didn't know what was happening. All they knew was that some guy had ripped a hole in reality, said "finally" with a crazy grin on his face, and started emitting a dangerous amount of Death Energy for no apparent reason.
Constantine reacts on impulse, trying to cast a Banishing Spell on this guy.
Danny, feeling the spell begin to pull him away from his home after he had just found it again after Thirty. Fucking. Years. Does something that he would consider reasonable.
He quickly dashes over to Constantine and slams him through a tree.
This sparks a fight between Danny and the JLD. And at first he is having some serious trouble, but as he continues to feed on Ectoplasm and recover his strength, he becomes progressively more Powerful. It comes to the point where the JLD can't keep up anymore, and call in Backup.
Ellie was enjoying her night off, but the desperate Call from JLD about a powerful Entity at the edge of Amity finally got her going.
She rushes over and slams into Danny just as he is about to attack Constantine again. Neither of them recognize eachother, since they have changed since they were kids (Danny moreso) and continue to Duke it out.
Ellie is trying to banter with him, but Danny is really angry at this point. So he resorts to his final attack, his Ghostly Wail.
He levels a good chuck of the Forest, and in the end he is standing over Ellie as his anger fades. He says "Sorry" and he starts taking a look around him to see if there is anybody else.
Ellie is on the ground, shaken because she recognized that power.
She gets up, and asks "Danny?"
Danny finally gets a good look at her and says, and says "Ellie?"
Meanwhile JLD still has ringing in their ears and thinks that Ellie just called Danny "Daddy"
(Which makes sense because of the new age difference)
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bigification · 2 months
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Spiked
Friday,
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I feel strong, but these protein shakes haven't been helping my bulk as much as I want. I'm still too skinny. Maybe I should give them more time though, I've only been taking them for a couple weeks after all. I'll try bumping it up to two a day, and I'll eat more, that should help.
I pick up my phone as I leave the gym and stare at the Grindr app. Should I? Is it fair to Dean that I keep bringing back guys to our place. This would be the fourth time this week, I think I can hold off for his sake. Anyway, I put away my phone and head back to my apartment.
"How was the workout?" Dean asked when I got home. I'm shocked, he's never really been interested in my workouts before. We used to go together before we were roommates but now that we live together, the gym is a rare activity we do apart. Besides, he hasn't really been going that much recently.
"Oh, it was good... I'm just not bulking as much as I want to." I reply.
"That must be why you got those protein shakes, huh?"
Why is he taking so much notice of this stuff now? We can share the shakes if he really wants to, he might just be trying to motivate himself to get back in the gym. But he could just ask if that's what he wants. "Ya, I'm gonna try to drink more, maybe that'll help." I say as I go to the fridge and grab one.
"That's good." Dean says in a flat tone, he usually does this when he's lost interest in a conversation.
I get distracted from the conversation anyway as I drink the shake. Something seems different about it, it's got a bit of a bitter aftertaste now. I figure it's probably just me getting tired of the taste and shrug it off.
Saturday,
I wake up in a cold sweat. This was unusual given that I get up every day at this time to go to the gym. I look to the clock and it's... 10 o'clock. Holy shit, I slept in. I'm usually at the gym by 8. I calm down a bit when I remember it's Saturday, so I have nothing to do anyway.
I roll out of bed and hobble my way to the bathroom. My head is spinning and my stomach is growling, I felt hungover. I didn't drink last night did I? I don't really remember. However, all of that leaves my mind in an instant when I look in the mirror. I rub my eyes and look again. Where do I even begin. An itchy beard now covers my face, despite the fact that I shaved yesterday morning. My sweat glistened on my distended stomach, my six pack buried under a soft bloat. My pecs are swollen and slightly rounded.
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What the fuck. My mind is trying to process what's happening, but it can't. I turn to the side and see the subtle S shape in my stomach and my ass. Was it the shake? It couldn't have been, it hasn't done shit for me in weeks and now it does this! You know what, this is fine. I pinch my stomach. It's mostly bloated, just a small layer of fat, nothing I can't work off in a couple weeks. If anything this will give me a head start on my bulk.
I throw on some of my loose gym clothes that do a decent job at hiding my physique, but I still look different. I grab my gym back and try to sneak out, I don't want Dean seeing me like this. I quickly try to rush out the door, but I stop dead in my tracks when I hear Dean.
"I didn't know you were still home, you usually leave before I get up." He says nonchalantly.
"Oh ya... I just decided to sleep in today." I pull my bag to cover my stomach.
"Okay, have fun at the gym. Nice beard by the way, when did you decide to grow it out."
"I've just been a bit lazy with shaving it, that's all." I'm sweating buckets.
"Well it looks good, you should keep it." He smiles at me.
I can feel myself blush, so I smile and get out as quickly as possible. I chug a protein shake on the way to the gym, noting that bitter aftertaste again. It's probably nothing, I have bigger issues to deal with.
Once I start my workout, I feel pretty self conscious about my body. I know no one else could know that something is off, but I still feel off. But as the workout goes on, I start feeling more and more comfortable. I start hitting more reps than I ever have before, though cardio is a bit of a slog. It doesn't matter, I feel surprisingly great. I finish off the workout great, and flex in the mirror for a bit of a confidence boost.
I drink another shake on the way home. As I get home, Dean seems to be waiting for me. He asks how my workout was again. He's acting so weird again. I decide to spend the rest of the day out, drinking the night away. I am bulking after all.
Sunday,
I wake up feeling like I got hit by a truck, with no memory of how much I drank last night. I've never felt like this after a night out though. The more I think about it, the more my mind points me to the shakes. They have to have something to do with this. I don't have time for this right now though, I have to get to the gym.
I brush my teeth and shave, I'm shocked at the beard I grew in just two days. I try throwing on some clothes, but I feel some resistance. My largest gym shirt no longer fits, there's always a sliver of skin showing and it goes past my belly button when I reach up. My shorts fit a bit better, but they hug my ass very tight. I think I'll have to buy some new clothes on the way home.
The workout goes similarly to yesterday. I start self conscious of the fact that my belly is showing and my shorts look like they're about to rip. But the worry escapes my mind when I destroy my routine. I feel so strong.
I feel great by the time my workout ends. I head to the locker room and take off my shirt. Yeesh, I have a full on beer belly now. This is no longer just a bloat, my stomach is covered in a thick layer of fat. I didn't even know you could gain this much fat in only a couple of days, and I'm not even eating that much. And what's with the beard, I shaved this morning and it's already coming back in. Although my arms are looking massive, I could even feel my sleeves stretch from my biceps when I was working out. I stare at my belly a bit as I think about what to do.
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I throw on my shirt again and head out. I pull up to a clothing store and pick out a few loose gym clothes that should fit me if I bulk even more.
"Hi, where are the change rooms." I ask an employee.
"Oh.." he pauses for a moment, looking at my belly. I notice that my shirt is riding up more than it was this morning. I instinctively cover my exposed belly with my arms and shrivel up in embarrassment.
"Just over there sir." He awkwardly points to the back of the store.
I grab a few larger clothes on the way out and leave the store as fast as humanly possible. I instinctively down another shake on the way home. Dean didn't say anything to me when I got home, but he glanced at me and then looked away. He is acting so strange.
I woke up in the middle of the night, there was a rattling coming from the kitchen. I walk out to investigate and see Dean doing something with the protein shakes. Is he secretly drinking them at night? He could just ask and I would give some to him. But I see him pour something into the shake and then close it back up again before putting them back in the fridge. What the hell? I try to think of what he could be doing. He stashes something away in the bottom of the cupboard and starts walking back to his bedroom. I quickly hide in my room until I hear his door close, and then I go back to the kitchen to investigate. I look at the protein shakes in the fridge and notice their seals have been broken, I can't believe I never noticed that. I move over to the cupboard and find a small bag with white powder in it. It looks like coke, but why the fuck would Dean put coke in my shakes. And besides, I don't think fat, muscle, and hair growth are symptoms of coke. Maybe I'll give him a taste of his own medicine. I go back to the fridge and pull out the jug of orange juice that Dean drinks every morning. I have no idea how much he put in my shakes, so I just pour a bunch in. I kind of feel like a secret agent, sneaking in a mysterious powder into his drink. I would feel worse, but he already did this to me so I'm fine ignoring my morals this time.
I head to bed, lying awake in my bed for a while. Thinking about what I just did, thinking about the results. It's making it hard to fall asleep, but I eventually do.
Monday,
I wake up feeling better than I had the past few days. I go through my normal routine, throw on my gym clothes, and grab a bite to eat. When I open the fridge, i see the orange juice and protein shakes and I'm reminded of my situation. Every morning I get a few moments of blissful ignorance before it's ripped away. I think for a bit, then grab a couple shakes and put in my bag. I'm kinda liking this new me, the strong me, and the belly is definitely growing on me. I catch my reflection in the mirror as I head out, I'm really committing to this aren't I? I ask myself as I look at the bushy beard that has engulfed my face and the belly and moobs that are unmistakable under my shirt. I smile and then head to the gym.
Every day that I spend at the gym, I get less self conscious. I almost forget about the fact that my hairy gut I exposed to the world whenever I reach up. I only care about the fact that I have been increasing the weight on my workouts every day and it feels amazing.
I take a shower and get dressed for work... Oh shit. I never bought work clothes that fit me, I'm reminded when I try in vain to button up my dress shirt. I stop by the store again and grab a couple shirts and pairs of pants. The thought of the protein shake in my car makes me think of the future, so I buy a few clothes in larger sizes too.
I barely make it to work on time. The day went by fast, but all I could remember were the stares and the comments from coworkers. "You forget to shave this morning Santa?" "Might want to lay off the doughnuts in the break room buddy." "We're concerned about your health." "Did you forget to stop bulking?" That was all I heard today. It was embarrassing at first, but it soon turned to encouraging. Each sly comment just makes me want to grow more. It honestly makes me realize how much I'm enjoying growing, and makes me even more excited to see what happens to Dean. It was hard to keep my dick in my pants today, I think the only reason no one noticed was because they were too busy staring at my gut.
I make it back home after work and dress down to my underwear first thing. Damn I am getting hairy, I run my hands through the forest of hair that has grown all over my body. As I'm doing so, an amazing idea runs through my mind. I'm gonna surprise Dean. There's no way I can hide the changes in my body regardless of how baggy my clothes are, so I'm just gonna show it off. I lay down on the couch by the front door, still only in my underwear, and I wait for him to show up.
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"I'm hom- Oh hey..." Dean stutters as he sees me.
"Hey bud, what's up." I say nonchalantly.
"Just tired from work, where are your clothes?"
"I had a crazy workout today, just figured I'd air out a bit. Ever since I started this bulk, things have really taken off for me at the gym." I say while I rub my gut. In trying my best to make him uncomfortable and it seems to be working.
"Okay, well if you need me I'll be in my room." He quickly scurries into his room.
I just chuckle to myself and continue rubbing my belly. I wonder if there's any leftovers in the fridge?
Tuesday,
Same old same old. Get out of bed, get dressed, shave, grab a shake and head to the gym.
I feel so imposing at the gym now. I think I've gotten taller, because I look down on almost every now. I have a beard and a deeper voice than I used to, and not to mention the big gut and strong biceps. I'm like the biggest guy here, and people treat me like it. Women and men stare, and people tend to let me use the machines I want. I also notice myself grunting when I work out, I wonder if the entire gym can hear it. Anyway, the point is I feel amazing. This is the first day I dropped cardio because who fucking needs it, I sure don't. Now I focus purely on mass gain. I'm tired of holding back and I don't care what other people think, I want more.
I arrived at work, rocking far more confidence than I did yesterday, and people noticed. I don't care if they stare or comment, and I don't care that my dress shirt is already too small for me. People even asked me how I gained as much muscle as it did that fast. I just tell them to eat a shit ton and drink protein shakes, but maybe once the jig is up with Dean I'll ask him how to get the powder. I certainly wouldn't mind seeing some of the men at work blow up like I did. This is not the time to think about it though, it's getting hard to hide my boner at work. The only thing hiding it when I sit down is my gut.
I get home and notice Dean is home too. He must have stayed home, I wonder if it's because of the powder. He won't seem to leave his room though, so I'll have to wait until tomorrow to see the results.
I just decide to change into some comfortable clothes and eat my heart out. Though I'm shocked at how small my once 'baggy' clothes are. They barely fit past my stomach, and they ride up past my belly button when I lift my arms.
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Fuck I'm getting fat. There is nothing hotter to me right now than the thought of my body growing. I make my way to the kitchen and grab a few more shakes and start chugging, feeling my dick harden with each gulp. I feel like a fucking pig, what has come over me. The shake is dribbling down my beard and onto my shirt, but I can't stop. Once I've had enough protein shakes for a lifetime, I stumble to my room and promptly fall asleep.
Wednesday,
I wake up in a pool of sweat, similar to a couple days ago. My mouth tastes awful and my body feels heavy. I question what happened last night as I roll myself out of bed. I drag myself to the bathroom and freeze in shock at my image in the mirror. Holy shit. I pull up my shirt to see a massive ball belly, covered in a thick layer of hair. I pull my shirt up further and see a pair of soft man tits that now lay on my gut. Every part of my body looks swollen, my arms, my hands, even my face looks puffy.
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I let out a loud burp that reeks of protein shake, and suddenly I remember last. I walk to the kitchen and see six empty protein shakes on the table. I chuckle in a surprisingly deep voice before opening the fridge and grabbing a shake. I down it before getting ready to head to the gym. I put on my largest gym shirt and it only reaches halfway around my gut, I try to put on my shorts but I can't get them to cover the top of my ass crack. That's alright, I don't particularly care if anyone sees, it's their fault for looking.
I spend the day at the gym enjoying all the attention from shocked gym goers. They watch in amazement or contempt as this fatass walks around like he owns the gym.
I go to work with a similar energy, though I do have a dress shirt that still barely fits me so at least I'm not half naked going to work. My clothes still leave little to my coworkers imaginations, as I confidently strut my fatass around the office.
I get home and stand in shock as I walk through the door. Is that Dean!? Across the living room stands a morbidly obese man wearing nothing but boots, a baseball cap, and a ripped towel around his waist.
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"You did this to me!" The man yells in a gruff southern accent.
"Dean, is that you?" I respond.
"Yea, you dumbass! You gave me some of that powder didn't ya." He turns to face me and reveals the damage the powder did to his body.
"Hey you did it to me first! I was only returning the favour."
"I only put I bit into your shakes, how much did'ya give me!? Look what it's done to me!" He grabs a handful of the fat on his belly, and it jiggles like jello.
"Well I didn't know how much to give you."
"And you're only s'posed to take it when you're workin out, otherwise it only grows fat and not muscle. Beside, why d'ya keep drinking it after you knew?" He asks
"Because I like me this way, it just felt good to get revenge. Why did you even do it in the first place?" I ask in return.
"Because I thought if you got fat you'd stop hooking up with so many guys, and you'd notice me. It was only s'posed to be a bit, but then you started drinkin the shakes like crazy and now look at ya." He responds in a genuine voice. I don't know what to say, so I stand silent. He grabs his phone and approaches me. "This is what I looked like 2 days ago!" He shows me a picture of himself. "I was so happy that I could finally grow a beard. Little did I know why."
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"This is what I looked like yesterday." He shows me another photo. "My hair was falling out and my hairline was receding. I woke up looking like I was pregnant, and my pants couldn't fit anymore."
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"I was so scared that I ate some of that powder, but I didn't know what to do, so I stayed in my room all day and drank nothing but orange juice. Then I woke up this morning as a bald 350 pound man. That's when I knew you put that powder in my orange juice." He seems frantic.
I didn't know what to do, so I grabbed him and kissed him. "I never realized how hot your accent is until now." I say as I pull away from the kiss, he smiles in return. In the moment, another terribly amazing idea comes to my head. I grab the bag of powder he had left on the table and pour some of the powder into his mouth before snorting some myself. He looks at me in shock for a moment before swallowing it. I smile before dragging his fatass to my tiny king sized bed.
Then next Monday,
I just hit 300 today. I still go to the gym everyday, so that keeps my gut from growing out of control. Though I have had some interesting conversations with my family since. But the shocked faces of my family when they see me and their concerned comments if my weight gain only fuels the fire. Though my dad seems to be the only one who says he likes the new me, says I look manlier. It's funny coming from the next fattest man in the family, only behind me of course.
The scale stopped working on Dean after last Thursday, but he has to be pushing 500. I really gave him an insane dose of that powder, and the more fat he got the less capable he was to workout and thus reduce the fat gained. He just sits around and pigs out all day now, and I wouldn't want him any other way. I usually bring home a few meals from a couple fast food restaurants for his first dinner, and when I feel up to it, I'll add a little bit of powder to his meal.
I'm also enjoying work far more. I told all the men at my work about the powder, and within a few days I was seeing results. Some became as fat as Dean by the end of the week, clearly they neglected the part where it said to workout while consuming the powder. Some look like me, with big arms and an even bigger belly. And some have just become muscle beasts, almost like they spent hours a day at the gym. I also feel more imposing at work, people respect me more, even if half of them are bigger than me now. It even helped me get a raise, which funds all of the fast food trips for Dean and I. One day I hope to be the big boss with a silver bushy beard and hulking gut that spills out of my suit.
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heartfullofleeches · 2 months
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"A tour of my room :)"
-
"Is it on? The red light is flashing so..... Hi! It's so nice to meet you whoever you are... My name is Y/n and..... This is my room! Red gave me permission to record this video after they told me what a camera is. My head still hurts a little from all the crying I had to do to convince them to let me keep this- but I'm okay! What should I show you first?....hm...."
You take a quick look of your surroundings - the hollow ping of metal hitting the poles of your bed catching your ear, steering your gaze towards your weighted wrists.
"My bracelets! Red gave them to me my first night home. The leash is to make sure I don't wander off. I used to do that a lot actually. It's long enough I can comfortably walk around the kitchen, the bathroom, and Red's room. Those are pretty much all the places I need to go. If I pull my bed away from the wall, I can almost touch the front-"
Knock- knock- knock-
Only three... Not them....
.....
"Moving on! As you can see under me, this is my bed. I don't use it much since Red likes when I sleep with them. If you look really close riiight there - you can see Red carved our names into the headboard. They've carved our named into a lot of things we own. I think it's their favorite hobby."
You point upwards at your caretaker's beautiful craftsmanship. Heavy pounds channels through the walls - the frame of your bed imitating the knocks at the front door as it taps your bedroom wall in an that dreaded sound-
Knock, knock, knock-
"Over here is my dresser, where I keep most of my things."
Sliding off the edge of the bed, you recenter your new camera towards your dresser. You knew Red cleaned while you were asleep so there wasn't much on top of the furniture besides a stuffed fox they gifted you your first night home, and a spool of wool rendered useless due to sharp tears in the fabric. There were some picture frames as well, but those were more for Red than anything. The less you had to see your face the better
"I really wanted to try knitting like Red does, but my claws always tear the wool. Next to that is Mr. Rabbit. Red said they got him when they were little and it helped them feel less scared - so they gave it to me to make me free better. I don't want to hurt him so he sleeps here. Above my dresser is the list of rules Red has for me. It's really short - because they said I'm a good person. Red is still teaching me how to read, but i still remember what they told me-"
You pick up the camera, angling it up at the tapestry as you speak
"No eating on the couch-"
"Clean your teeth after every meal."
"Ignore any voices that are not Red's."
"The only time you're allowed to enter the basement is if your teeth start to feel itchy."
"And lastly.... Do not open the front door unless you hear the special knock we created together."
The last one is easy to follow.
"Help! Please, somebody- help! My boyfriend is hurt, I can't stop the bleeding. We were attacked some maniac in this... fucked up mask. Please - open the fucking door!"
You walk to the opposite side of the room, facing away from the window.
"Red.... Red doesn't let me do a lot of things. They were so mad at me when they found me cleaning the storage closet, but their mood changed so fast when they saw I found this... They said it's a music player. I like when they play music from their phone. They said when I'm too scared to watch t.v in the living room to drown out the noises I can just play one of these these...re....reco...."
Knock.
"Go away!"
Go away, go away- Why can't they just leave you alone. Why can't they understand it's better this way? Whatever Red will do.... It's better than..... Red. Where's Red? Why aren't they home yet? You're scared. Scared of what you'll do. Where is Red? Red - Red, please come home. I'm so hungry.
Dinner... Dinner is right outside, but you're a good person - just like they said. You'll wait for Red. They'll probably be home at any second - cries that loud could be heard for miles in a place like this. You just have to wait.
"I.....I guess I just put the record in here, then. Red is gonna be so proud of me for doing this by myself. Thank you for everything you do for me, Red..... I hope you all liked my tour!"
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mrswint3rs · 5 months
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Forbidden Fruit
pairings- dbf! toji x Fem! reader
summary- your dads lowlife best friend comes to stay with you and your father for a while. your feelings of annoyance and hatred toward him turn into something more.
a/n - i had a good plot planned out until i actually started writing this so im sorry ab the randomness
            NSFW WARNING :
                    contains- age gap (reader is early 20's, toji is early 40's bc i said so), unprotected sex, daddy kink, hair pulling , degrading
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
To put it lightly, Toji is a complete ass. He's an aging bachelor who has no future plans, a drinking problem which he tries to hide from your father, can't hold a steady job, and basically mooches off your father's financial generosity. He's loud and obnoxious, always trying to pick a fight with you over something stupid. Whenever your dad isn't there, he acts like he owns the place and makes up his own rules. He's the worst houseguest ever, and you kind of just want to punch him in the face. But then again, he's your dad's best friend, you've known him for years, so you have to be nice to him.
It's been a little over a month now since Toji has been staying with you and your dad. His presence has been a constant irritation, and it's hard to understand what exactly your dad sees in him. He seems to believe that anything he does should be accepted without question, and he constantly pokes and prods at you.  It's been a struggle for you to feel comfortable in your own home ever since he started staying with you. He seems to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, without any thought for the people around him. He sleeps on your couch, stays up eating your food, and makes no effort to clean up after himself.  And he's constantly giving you a hard time about being an adult and still living with your dad. He tells you how you should have moved out ages ago, as if he has the right.
You know Toji is an absolute jerk. You loathe him and everything he stands for, so why do you keep finding yourself staring at his perfect figure? His muscular arms, his broad shoulders, his rock-hard abs, his thick thighs. His masculine face, and that cocky, all knowing grin of his. You can't seem to take your eyes off of him, and you hate that you find yourself attracted to him despite knowing who he really is on the inside. You hate that you crave his attention, that you want him to notice you. You know it's wrong to desire him in any way. He's your fathers friend, almost twice your age. And you had a boyfriend.
And yet, you can't help yourself. Leaving your room at night to 'get a glass of water' just to steal a glance at him. Sprawled out on your couch wearing only his tight boxers that showed his outline.
Purposefully leaving your door open when you changed clothes, hoping he'd be watching (which he often was.) Your actions grew desperate over time.
You were disgusted with yourself. So ashamed, thrusting your fingers into your needy cunt, pitifully whining at the fact that your little fingers could never fulfill your needs like his rough, manly ones probably could. Struggling to get off, the guilt looming over you but at the same time feeling so good. The thought of the cocky, ever teasing, older man bringing you to orgasm every time without fail. He was like forbidden fruit. Right there but you wouldn't dare try and taste. As badly as you wanted to, there was just no way.
or so you thought.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
While your dad was out at work, you find yourself alone in the house with Toji. It all started with a glance. Just a look.
That's what lead to you now, squealing into the couch cushions. Panties dropped down to your ankles and your skirt pushed up over your ass. His massive form stood behind you, one hand roughly holding you up by your hair, the other rapidly rubbing at your sensitive nub. "Such a fucking slut," he groans, "bet your little boyfriend can't even reach this far into you, hm princess? So fuckin' tight...it's like you've never even been fucked."
"A-ah...mnn Toji!" you whimper.
His cock stretches you. He was bigger than you ever would have imagined, his girth molding your walls into his shape. "Dirty girl, look at ya', drunk on your father's friends' cock."
His degrading only drove you crazier. Your knees grew weaker, legs wobbling so much you thought you'd fall, his strong hold keeps you positioned as you were. Making you feel every agonizing inch of his thickness. His bulbous tip rutting into your weak spots as he jackhammers into you with no remorse. You could barely even keep your eyes open, your voice coming out in half screams of his name.Your back arched into him as he hit that angle just right.
The stimulation of both your gspot and clit was breathtaking. Your brain went dumb with every stroke. You weren't even worried about how wrong it all was. You could only feel. Feel as the older man used your drenched pussy like his own personal fleshlight.
Your orgasm steadily crept, you couldn't hold it in even if you wanted to. "Mn..gonna cum daddy.." you thoughtlessly mewled.
The use of the new title stirred something within him, going straight to his cock. His head tilted back with a low grunt, "Good fuckin' girl...call me that again."
"Feels s' good daddy...ahh-mnn, I can't take it..." you babble.
He completely loses it. Hips stuttering, grip tightness. "Fuck princess, cum w' me. Cum all over daddy's cock, baby. c'mon." he was practically pleading, trying so hard to keep going and not finish so soon. But you brought out a whole other side to him. Even with all your previous tempting, he never thought he'd be here, balls deep in his best friends daughter. your tight cunt was just too good. he didn't care about the consequences. he wanted you for far too long.
He shoves your head into the cushions, muffling your sweet cries as you cream all over his length. Your quivering and whiny moans forced his own climax, making him spill deep inside. "Oh my fucking god.." he let out an elongated moan, as he filled you up, practically trembling at the release he felt. Steadily pumping his cum into you.
He relaxes his grip on your hair, slowing the roll of his hips as he tries to ground himself. He lowers you onto the couch as he slips out of you, collapsing along side you.
"y' alright, princess?" you weakly nod, mulling over to snuggle up to him. Toji takes you into his bulky arms, holding you against his chest. You melt into him, listening to the rapid beating of his heart, and his heavy breathing. Your eyes flutter shut, growing more and more tired.
Noticing, he shifts a bit, "Hey, don't be fallin asleep on me princess," he laughs, "lets get ya' cleaned up before your dad gets home."
mlist
part 2 here!!
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atlasnessie · 3 months
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being with CHUUYA means being one another’s biggest supporters. the mafia is a scary place, it isn’t for the kind hearted and you know this well. it also isn’t a place for romance, though, it seems as if executive CHUUYA NAKAHARA does mind, just don’t embarrass him. “hey, you’re back. are you hurt anywhere ..? wha — i wasn’t waiting for you !! i just happen to be here. yeah yeah, whatever. get to the medics if you’re hurt. i’ll walk you.”
CHUUYA doesn’t have a lot of free time; coming home around five in the morning and then going back to work around eight. if he’s lucky, he’ll come home early and get a decent four hours of sleep. during those hours of rest, he can’t seem to grasp sleep the way he wants it. but seeing you, home earlier than him and bundled up with the blanket on your shared bed, CHUUYAS muscles relax. maybe he’ll get a few extra hours tonight. “hm ? sorry doll, did i wake you ? no ? alright. quit chatting, go back to bed. i’ll tell ‘ya how my day went when you wake up later, ‘kay ? love you.”
CHUUYA takes his job as a mafioso and a lover very seriously, understanding the concept of separating work from his home and love life. though, on days off, he’ll convince mori to give you one too, spending the day together. CHUUYA would buy you anything and everything. he knows you can pay with your own money, the mafia treats the both of you far too well, but he’s gotta spoil you every now and then, right ? “let’s go here. are you seriously askin’ why ? there was something you were eyeballing this fuckin’ whole week … don’t say you ‘don’t need it,’ love. come on, before it’s gone.”
CHUUYA NAKAHARA, once a strange fifteen year-old you met and rumored to be the vessel of arahabaki. he isn’t human, people would tell you, but you thought otherwise. his emotions raged like fire, pure and true. and for the longest time until dazai’s mysterious departure, you admired him from afar. CHUUYA wasn’t a ‘diamond in the rough,’ he was born as ‘the’ diamond, living amongst rocks and rubble that would crack into nothing. how you and CHUUYA came to be still remains a mystery to you. perhaps it was when you cried when dazai left and he tried to comfort you, telling you a bastard like him isn’t worth crying over, or when he dragged you all the way back to the headquarters when you were weak and shot in the legs during a mission. however it was, you knew it was meant to be, you and CHUUYA. hearts linked and intertwined, born and made to be with one another, like needle, like thread. “hiya, dollface. boss wanted to drop these off to you. he said you can do them tomorrow. when you’re done with everything, gimme a call and we’ll go out to eat. ‘ya cravin’ anything ?”
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