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#I'll respond to any more asks in the morning
donuts4evry1 · 1 year
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Hi!!! I love your account with all of its fabulous jellyfish information. And I wanted to know, where are you getting aforementioned fabulous jellyfish information? Is there a book or a website or documentary or smth? Do you have any recommendations?
Tysm and I CANT WAIT for the advanced quiz :DD
Oh!! I'm glad you enjoy it ^-^
I get my jellyfish research from a variety of places, actually. But since I'm kind of obsessed with collecting my information in one place, asks like these are my cup of tea :)
My main source of jellyfish lore comes from Wikipedia. Just like the legendary Hank Green, I ended up downloading Firefox's tree-tab extension so I can organize the tabs by natural taxonomic order. It's really quite relaxing, actually.
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Wikipedia, understandably, isn't always the best source though (Take the pages for Cephea cephea and Atolla wyvillei for example. The Cephea cephea page is almost entirely blatant misinformation while the Atolla wyvillei contains an incorrect and misleading throwaway line)
That's why the next logical step is simple- Wikipedia references! This serves as a beginning into further jellyfish research.
Let's take the reference page for the Aurelia aurita, for example:
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The information citing citation 14 was super interesting, so I pulled it up on another tab to read it, and got this:
Then I just had a field day reading it all.
One big site that's used as a reference on Wikipedia is humorously named WorMS (World Registry of Marine Species), which goes into the specific classification of pretty much every jellyfish taxon (it is very. VERY comprehensive). It'll tell you how many species are in a genus, what scientific name has become synonomized with another, and even link to the original documents that describe the species (though they may be written in a different language and come in a scan- so tough luck if you don't understand the language since um... it's pretty hard to translate a scan).
Eventually that wasn't enough, though, so I branched out into searching scientific articles myself. My personal favourite website to do this on is ResearchGate, since the UI is the easiest for me to use, but I get plenty of research from other sites and publishers. (And pssst, if you can't access papers through a school or an institution, there's always sci-hub and libgen 😉)
The rest just depends on to how savvy you are with google. I despise normal reporting articles on jellyfish (Most can't tell the difference between them anyways), so I skip those and simply go to the jellyfish papers themselves lol. I've found out a lot of interesting things about jellyfish just by searching random questions on google.
Um, but I suppose I do have extra stuff to add.
Apparently, making a video game for jellyfish is a surefire way to learn more about them (especially when you write them as sapient beings lol). You start to crave niche, specific knowledge of them- like um... If they sleep or not, or what things can make them sleep.
Um... Another thing I've learned about jellyfish? The japanese are absolutely OBSESSED with their jellyfish. Their jellyfish spotlight sites are incredibly detailed (if not a bit region-specific), and I honestly trust them more than I trust our English-speaking sites.
In particular, I adore kurage-ya.com and gogo zoo aquarium, though you definitely will not be able to read anything unless you have a good translator (Kurage-ya is written in such an adorable voice.... and gogo zoo is incredibly detailed. I suggest going onto both for full coverage of your jellyfish knowledge, though)
(I also suggest going on different languages of Wikipedia- you can learn SO much stuff that normal Wikipedia doesn't give to you. Like the Chrysaora pacifica and Nemophilema nomurai have more robust Japanese pages, and the Spanish page for Order Semaeostomeae is a lot more beefed up, haha...)
To learn more about niche jellyfish facts, I also suggest looking through jellyfish husbandry sites (Especially jellyfish warehouse- travis knows so much more about jellyfish than I do it's actually pretty crazy).
As for Jellyfish documentaries? I only know of a few good ones, but I'll list them here:
youtube
youtube
youtube
youtube
^^ (not a documentary, but the jellyfish warehouse is friggin awesome and they even have a youtube channel)
Umm... So yeah that's pretty much all the things I got for free.
I think any jellyfan would suggest Lisa-Ann Gerswhin's book, Jellyfish: A Natural History.
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I'm pretty sure you can find it in any major bookstore or whatever (online, at least), but it goes super in-depth about pretty much everything you need to know about jellyfish.
She goes SUPER in-depth about things like jellyfish life cycle, jellyfish anatomy, jellyfish ecology- and SO, SO MUCH MORE. She doesn't stay in Phylum Cnidaria, either, branching out into Ctenophora and even Chorodata(?) (Since Salps/tunicates are also there ig).
If you want to learn about specific jellyfish species, however, I would honestly just stick to Google and write it yourself. She only highlights about 40 different jellyfish species, and only mentions the textually relevant things in their bio. I would use the book just to learn about jellyfish basics, tbh (since it primes you to learn about the more technical jellyfish language you'll inevitably encounter in jellyfish articles). Overall, though, Lisa-Ann Gershwin's book is incredibly detailed, in-depth, and gorgeous and I could not recommend it more to anyone.
Other than that tho? All the English jellyfish books kinda suck, and I'm seriously considering branching out to japanese books instead (There's one that focuses on 114 species of jellyfish and you can bet your manus that I'm salivating over it rn i am enamoured with Japanese jellyfish culture)
Erm... Anyways?
TLDR;
Wikipedia is a good place to start. Reading Published Scientific articles is where you can get the bulk of your information, but Jellyfish-dedicated Websites will also be pretty knowledgeable as well.
There are a choice few Youtube documentaries you can watch, but if you want to read an actual book, Jellyfish: A Natural History is your best bet.
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wonryllis · 2 months
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☆ ᵎᵎ ENHYPEN COMING HOME TO FIND YOU ASLEEP.
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╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇.
𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen in whipped era 𖥔 ݁ fluff, soft soft softtt LIB? fem!reader word count `719 PLS REBLOG!!
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𝗹𝗲𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴 he knows you stay up late waiting for him, this time he finds your figure laid against the soft cushion in a weirdly adorable position. heeseung quietly tiptoes to have a closer look, taking his time to admire your sleeping face. oh he so wishes to keep coming home to you like this. he'd sit beside you and tell you things he could never have said to your face, his deepest thoughts. apologizing for things he could've done better and thanking you for being with him and loving him.
i think i will love you forever, i want to.
𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴 he is so used to it, at least he thinks he's so used to it but everytime he comes home to find you passed out on the couch, or on the carpet slightly lolling to the side the book in your hands almost falling off, he feels the same butterflies he did when it first happened. if you aren't in your pajamas already, best believe he'll change you himself, not wanting to disturb your sleep and put you to bed like magic fairy. he'll join you in later, and if you accidentally stir awake he'll put you back to sleep.
shh, go back to sleep love, i'm right here.
𝘀𝗶𝗺 𝗷𝗮𝗲𝘆𝘂𝗻 this guy has a field trip range of emotions upon seeing you asleep after a long day of work. he feels this fuzzy and warm feeling watching the one he loves sleep so peacefully, and on the other hand he's so excited to just join you. if you're on the couch he'll squeeze himself in whatever space he finds and cuddle you into the morning and if you're on the bed, he'll leech onto you leaving more than half the mattress empty while he snuggles into his baby on your side of the bed.
mmm, love having you in my arms like this
𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻 outwardly he's so nonchalant at first, just coming up to your passed out figure and picking you up to get you to the bed, a smile on the tip of his lips. however the moment you nuzzle into him in a soft whine, he's so putty feeling his heart skip beats, his breath staggering like boy is damn smitten. placing you on the bed he'll quietly pull the covers on, a sneaky kiss on the lips and then leave the room to calm himself down, maybe even scream silently a little with the way you get him nervous over nothing.
fuck, she's so damn adorable i'll melt.
𝗸𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝘄𝗼𝗼 he'll text you to ask if you're awake and if you don't respond he knows you're out. he'd definitely softly speak about his day even though you're not listening. complimenting you as he always does of how pretty you manage to look all the time. will sing you a bunch of songs if you wake up, holding you close and tracing over your features, smiling so wide all the tiredness of the day washes away. also makes sure to wake up before you to again admire your sleeping face.
you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.
𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻 asleep or not, jungwon is always careful when he walks through the door, softly opening and closing it. tiptoeing inside as quietly as he possibly can, and when he spots you asleep on the couch he'll put everything down to bring you to bed. carrying you like the most precious thing, laying you on the mattress and immediately leaning over to leave kisses all over. if you stir awake he's getting in and cuddling you back to sleep, hands caressing your head gently.
it's just me baby, you looked so cute couldn't help it.
𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘂𝗿𝗮 𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗶 will absolutely not switch on anything or make any sound and obviously will carry you to bed if you're passed out somewhere else. he'll kinda avoid looking at your face, until he cannot help it and god help him because once he does he'll be glued, eyes staring non stop. he can't believe someone so beautiful loves him, and all these complicated emotions come at once. he's overwhelmed and so whipped, he'd play around with your hair deep in these thoughts until sleep comes to him too.
how did i manage to have someone like you?
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taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz
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lilithandherharlots · 10 months
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Too shy to tell you
miguel o’hara x fem!reader
Miguel hides your heals in hopes of making you forget you ever owned a pair...he confesses about his theft during a hot and heavy night of sex.
Warnings: This might be interpreted as possessive or an unhealthy bond. Though its supposed to be just a very shy and respectful Miguel who let's loose during sex.:]
Authors note: I am not a writer!! This is my first time righting fanfic.. like.. ever!!! So don't attack me. Though honest, constructive criticism is something that I would love to hear. Sorry if there are spelling mistakes. Also, I don't know how to put proper description..... enjoy!!!!
:::
"Miggy?" I call out to my boyfriend who's currently towering over the coffee machine, waiting for it to brew.
"Yes, my love?" He responds with a look over his shoulder.
"Have you seen my black pointed heals? I can't seem to find them."
"No. Have you checked by the door?" He was lying.
He was lying. He was lying, and he didn't feel bad about it. The truth was he had stuffed them in the highest cupboard of the laundry room. He knew you couldn't reach it. He liked it that way. He couldn't let you open it since he had stuffed at least 4 pairs of heals in there.
"No miggy, they aren't here." You say after checking everywhere by the front door.
"Idk what to say, baby... we have to leave soon. Just throw on a different pair and I'll buy you some new ones later."
He was a liar... and he was damn good at it... until he wasn't.
:::
It was 2am. This insanity started hours ago, but Miguel's stamina wouldn't let down. Your soft moans could fuel him till sun rise, and he would love to do this forever. But unlike him, you have limits. Limits to your ability to stay strong, or at least keep yourself up right. But he doesn't really care. Your begs for a break won't succeed with a constantly starving man like him.
"One more round, please baby... please. I need you." His desperate begs caress your tear stained cheeks as he whispers them softly, leaning over you and filling you with sloppy thrust.
"Miguel- please.. It's too much.." You whine as you try to pull away, gripping desperately onto the sheets.
"Last one.... I promise..." he lies.
He said the same thing the last 4 rounds. If he could have it his way he'd continue. But he knew you couldn't keep going for much longer, so he used this opportunity to tell you what he couldn't bring himself to say otherwise.
"I lied..." he confesses. Watching your tits bounce with every rough trust, keeping himself busy while you tried to form a reply. It took you a while, but you managed to let out a soft hum, waiting for him to explain himself further.
"I took them. Your heels.. I fucking hate those things.." he thrust get faster as he says it. Hoping to make your brain foggy enough to not remember his confessions in the morning.
"I like your height, so why do you wear those weird things?" His heart felt lighter as he told you.
"I like that your height forces you to get on your tippy toes every time you want a kiss from me.. and even then, I have to bend over to reach you.... I like that you rely on me to reach those high shelves. Every time you ask me, you grow as red as a rose...."
You can feel his movements speed up. You can barely hear him... your mind fuzzy from pleasure. Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin felt like white noise at this point. The dim shadow of his frame covering you completely.
"You're so small under me.. your body falls any way I bend it..." At his point, he was just speaking the first thing to cross his mind.
You didn't hear him, and he knew it. Seconds later, you feel his weight shift, the mattress by your head sinking under his heavy hand as he leaned in and whispered.
"Please don't take that away from me."
His words were demanding. He felt exactly what he said. Even though your eyes were shut tight, you knew his eyes were locked on you. His breath heavy, as if he just confessed a dirty secret. He kinda did...
"Promise me.... Promise me you won't wear them and I'll help you cum."
As tired as you were. You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. So you give in.
"F-fine... I promise."
"You promise what?" He smirked hearing your whiney voice.
"I promise I won't wear the heels!!"
The pleasure he got from you saying that was immense. He shifted his weight once more as he changed your position like a marionette doll. Spreading your legs apart. His hands wrapped around your thighs, and his claws dug into your skin. The stinging pain of it was a wake-up call, causing you to gasp for air.
This position caused him to go deeper. The sticky mess from your previous rounds was being pushed out of your aching hole. The sound of his hips hitting your ass grew louder with every precise thrust. They got louder and louder until they stopped. Your thighs had clenched closed as you hit that high you were chasing. And you took him with you. Tightening around his pulsing cock in a way that made him fill you to the brim once more.
He watched your body shake. Your hips jerking forward. He would usually take that as his sign to keep going, but your fucked out face was telling him you couldn't take another thrust.
"You did great my love..... my little angel~" He cooed gentle praises as he rubbed your claw marked thighs.
"I'll buy you the cutest flats."
:::
A thing he didn't know.. is that you lied, too. His secret cupboard was emptied, and your heal collection was restored... and yes.. he pouted in silence.
The end
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writersdrug · 8 days
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Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 2
<- Previous - Next ->
Warnings: light cursing, light nsfw, Simon being the tiniest bit of a creep
A/N: so originally this was just a fluffy thought I had a few weeks ago... it's slowly turning into a longer, multi-chapter series, and Simon is a bit darker than I had intended him to be... but the story is still going to stay relatively normal (there will be full NSFW further down the line, lol)!
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Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.
here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.
Simon.
You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.
Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!
Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?
See you soon!
You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.
So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.
Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.
she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.
Simon.
You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.
You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.
Understood. Thanks again!
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"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.
You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.
You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?
"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."
You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.
"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."
You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"
Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"
"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.
He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."
You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"
Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.
He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.
But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.
"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."
"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."
He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...
He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.
You faltered. "Sorry...?"
"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"
You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.
"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.
He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.
"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.
"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.
"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"
He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."
Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.
"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.
Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.
He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.
But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?
He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-
Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.
Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."
He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.
He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.
Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.
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Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae
Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!
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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months
Text
wayne's got him
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'wayne adopts steve' rated g wc: 680 cw: migraines tags: hurt/comfort, established relationship, fluff
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Steve's head was pulsing, a sharp pain shooting from his eyes to his neck, sitting at his jaw for minutes at a time.
He hadn't had a migraine this bad in a while, and definitely not since Eddie had started working. He didn't have anyone here to help, and Robin would be at work until the afternoon.
He slowly rolled over in bed, wincing as the pain got worse from the movement.
He couldn't contain the whimper he let out as he tried to settle again, his head hurting too much in every position to try to get comfortable.
"Steve? Y'alright?" Wayne's voice was probably a normal volume, but it felt like shards of glass in his ears, against his eyes.
Apparently, his responding whimper was enough to have Wayne opening the door and coming into the bedroom.
"You dyin'?" Wayne whispered, seemingly sensing that every noise was too much.
"No," Steve managed to say. "Migraine."
Wayne didn't respond at first and Steve couldn't keep his eyes open. What little light was coming through the window felt like the sun was shining two feet in front of him.
And then the light was gone, the room was nearly pitch black, and Wayne's footsteps were getting closer to the bed.
"Gonna get you some water and meds. Hungry?" He whispered.
Steve shook his head once, barely.
He may have passed out for a minute or two because the next thing he knows, he's being slowly lifted enough to take a sip from the glass that's being held against his lips.
"Just a few small sips, son. The meds are crushed up in it," Wayne whispered.
Steve did his best, dribbling some when he accidentally opened his mouth too far.
Wayne wiped his mouth and chin after with a towel hanging off the chair by the bed.
"Called Eddie to let him know, told him I got ya."
"'S okay."
"I got ya, I said. Lay back, I got the ice pack."
Steve did what he asked, sighing with relief when the ice pack was placed on his forehead.
"That better?" Wayne asked.
"Mhm."
"Leave it for ten minutes and then I'll switch it out with the hot water bottle."
Eddie must've told him that helps.
Their day wore on, Steve sleeping when he could find some relief, letting Wayne nurse him back to health when he couldn't.
By the time Eddie got home, Steve's head was in Wayne's lap while he slowly massaged his temple.
"Any better?" Eddie whispered.
"A bit," Steve replied softly. "He did the ice and heat."
"Of course he did. That's where I learned it from," Eddie smiled softly at him.
"You go get cleaned up and then take over," Wayne said to Eddie. "I got him."
Eddie kissed Steve's forehead before walking to the shower to wash off the day.
Steve closed his eyes again, trying to fend off the nausea of the smell of chemicals from the mechanic shop that always lingered on Eddie after a shift.
"Stinks, don't he?" Wayne asked quietly.
Steve smiled.
"A little. 'S okay."
"Smells hurt worse though, don't they?"
"Yeah."
"He's still got some learnin'. But I got ya both 'til he does."
Steve turned his head to look at Wayne.
"Why are you helping me? Weren't you tired after your shift?" Steve asked, realizing for the first time that Wayne had just gotten home from his night shift when he found Steve miserable that morning.
He'd been awake for more than 24 hours now, and didn't seem even remotely worried about himself.
"Cuz you're my boy. I love ya and if ya need me, I'm gonna be here."
Steve felt his eyes start to burn with incoming tears, his throat closing against a sob.
"But-"
"No buts. You got me same as Ed, and if I could, I'd adopt you too. Okay?"
"Okay."
By the time Eddie made it back into the bedroom, Steve was asleep, and Wayne's eyes were drooping closed.
Eddie didn't have the heart to make Wayne get up.
It'd be okay; He had Steve.
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nomnomnoona · 6 months
Text
ATEEZ: The Morning After (aka Round 2 from the night before) HYUNG LINE
Adult OT8 imagine drabbles. Minors, please do not interact. You can read the maknae line of this theme here.
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The warmth of the daylight slipping between the split of the curtains hits your cheek as you lay beneath the softest duvet. You toss, attempting to dodge the daylight, but instead the movement wakes you. You stretch, allowing your eyes to gently flutter open when you kick off the covers. The cool breeze kisses your skin and you lightly shiver, not yet fully aware.
As your eyes open, you notice a silhouette sitting against the light of the sheer layer of the curtain. The silhouette was seated quite close to the bed, the duvet spilling out to their feet.
Then the smell of coffee steals away that last moment of slumber as you are jolted by the realization that the relaxed, seated silhouette had chuckled. You remembered who he was.
You look down with a hyper awareness that you're fully nude. In a panic, you reach for the duvet with your legs, but he kicks it aside.
"Hongjoong," you scolded, grabbing the pillow beneath your head to cover yourself up. The bed was now bare. He had completely kicked off the duvet while you sat up, hugging the pillow with your arms and legs.
"Good morning to you too," he chuckled. As your eyes adjusted, you noticed more details. He was in the bath robe of the hotel, one leg crossed over the other, his cup of coffee in one hand, while he held open a magazine in the other.
"Don't you have work?" you asked, trying to scoot to the edge of the bed with the pillow in place.
He wasn't paying attention to the conversation, "Where's the modesty coming from? You had no problem letting me watch you squirm while you were sprawled out beneath me last night."
"I'm sober now," you tried to defend yourself, hoping he didn't notice you blush.
He smirked, "Silly," a scoff followed, "You didn't touch any of the alcohol I ordered."
Hongjoong put the coffee down and stood to walk passed you to the bathroom. He entered and you heard the shower running.
"Can I go first?" you called.
Hongjoong didn't respond.
You walked up to the bathroom, but before you could even reach for the door, Hongjoong opened it and stood in the doorway. His eyes travelled to the pillow you were hugging for dear life.
He reached over to you and your knee-jerk reaction was to flinch, thinking he was going to yank the pillow from you. Instead, he gently placed the end of his bathrobe's tie into your palm, closing your fingers in to hold onto it.
"Get in," he gestured to the bathtub, "Since you can't remember last night, I'll remind you."
Hongjoong turned around and walked towards the tub while you held onto the tie, his robe unraveling in his wake.
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It came as a complete surprise to you that someone as obsessively clean as Seonghwa made you feel so dirty--but not in the filthy way.
"Come here," Seonghwa had snaked his arms around your waste to pull your body against his. You didn't flinch. You liked it--heck--you loved it. Seonghwa was slender but strong, gentle yet firm. He was the type who made every effort to be in the same rhythm and heartbeat as you were.
If you weren't done, he wouldn't be. If you were at your climax, he would be right there with you. The man's seduction technique was pure synchronicity. He never left you alone. He was always right there with you.
So even if it took him a long time to wake up, you waited for him and stayed by his side to let him know you'd be right there with him too.
"I'm glad you waited for me," he said, his voice now muffled because he had buried his nose in your hair. "I love your smell. This is how I want to wake up."
"What do I smell like?" you asked.
"Sex," he drawled. But before you could reply, his hand was between your legs, "Breakfast?"
"Do we order in or--" never mind. He didn't mean coffee.
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You stretched and then woke when Yunho's side of the bed was empty. Feeling a bit lonely, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, trying to gain a little more awareness so you could figure out where he was.
You stood up, not bothering to cover up, following the sound of the faucet in the bathroom. It was your first time sleeping over at Yunho's and he had been a bit nervous about you staying over. He had been going above and beyond recently to be hospitable, so you weren't surprised when you found him drawing you a bath.
"You're up," he jumped up, putting the bath bomb on the counter as he all but rushed over and let you sit on the edge of the tub. Before you could even speak, he pulled up a small basin with warm water and a towel, dipping in the towel and wringing it before he reached over between your legs.
"What are you doing?" you said with a laugh, tickled by the way he cleaned your thighs.
"I'm sorry I fell asleep right away," okay. Yunho must have looked up after care. This guy was really going the extra mile. You placed your hand on his.
"I feel comfortable," you assured him. "Come on," you stood, he looked confused as you guided him to stand. He towered over you.
"Take it off," you said with a smile as you tugged the hem of his shirt. "That's an expensive bath bomb," you laughed a little, "We should make the most of it."
With no less than stars in his eyes, he hurried to yank his shirt over his head, toss the bath bomb in, and pull you into an eager, delicious kiss, guiding you into the tub with him.
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Yeosang was probably the most confusing person you have ever slept with. It was a good kind of confusion, because you were nothing short of satisfied, but confusing nonetheless.
When you had met Yeosang, he was almost the textbook definition of "baby girl". He was sweet, gentle, and he even had a delicate laugh.
A few drinks down the line, he was beginning to flop onto your couch like a stuffed animal. You had offered him your couch for the night because he was much too drunk to drive. On top of that, you were also absolutely enamored with him. He was so beautiful, so fascinating to watch. You could have watched him sleep.
And then he pulled off his long-sleeved sweater.
His forearms were practically carved as his veins moved with every motion of his fingers. His arms were solid as rocks and your inebriated memory reminded you that your eyes tried to follow his veins from his forearm to his bicep to his neck.
You were seated next to him on the couch, stunned silent as he threw his head back, irritated that he chose to wear such fitted jeans tonight. Yeosang began to roughly yank his belt off, but failed.
Your last memory was the moment he grabbed your wrist and placed your hand on his buckle, his almost baritone voice demanding, "Take it off."
"What happened?" was his next question, 11:00 in the morning, clutching his temple as he sat across you at your dining table.
You poured him a tall glass of water and shrugged. You were intoxicated, sure, but not so much that you would forget the way he flat out fucked you senseless. You could still feel his iron grip on your hips. It was as though they were about to bruise.
Of course, it was wonderful. You would do it again in a heartbeat. You knew that he was someone who could get it from you anytime he asked.
You turned around and brought over toast, eggs, and a few sausages when your eyes locked with his. Your heart skipped a beat because he just had the most knowing smirk on his face.
He remembered.
"I'll have one egg," he said. "But if you're not yet sore," he pushed his empty plate forward, "I'll have two so I have enough energy to make sure you bruise this time."
Without a second thought, you straight up poured all four eggs you made onto his plate.
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Maknae line here
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awearywritersworld · 3 months
Text
the day of my execution
sukuna x reader summary: gojo, yuuji, and sukuna discuss what happened at the store. sukuna begins to consider your mortality like never before and takes care of you when you're sick. w/c: 2.7k tags/warnings: fluff. mentions of attempted kidnapping. banter. reader has the flu. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: sorry for disappearing for so long, but here is the long awaited next chapter. i've put a second a/n at the end, so i hope you'll read it. please excuse me talking out of my ass trying to rationalize my application of jujutsu, but if gege does it, so can i. i hope it kind of makes sense though. series masterlist // masterlist
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truthfully, yuuji expects his wednesday morning to be as uneventful as any other, but when he stands in front of the bathroom sink to brush his teeth, his eyes are not the only ones staring back at him.
"what d'ya want?" he groans. "it's too early for this."
"we need to talk."
sukuna doesn't give his vessel a chance to respond before he begins recounting the events of the previous night, a story which has yuuji's face cycling between surprise, worry, and dismay. "the man claimed someone sent him?"
"that's what i said," sukuna responds impatiently.
"why would anyone be after her? i don't understand."
"would it kill you to use your brain for once?" sukuna questions, having had the entirety of the night to ponder the situation. "think, idiot. who would be interested in using her in some ploy? against you. against... us."
yuuji's eyes widen. "the higher ups?
"no one else would be so brazen."
it strikes sukuna as ironic that just days after he relayed the cruelness he endured at the hands of jujutsu society's higher ups a millenia ago, you too almost became one of their victims. it's a reality that he despises.
"i should call gojo—"
"that is out of the question."
"do you want to keep her safe or not?"
sukuna scoffs. "this is how we keep her safe. if the higher ups are after her, we can't trust other sorcerers."
yuuji almost seems offended on gojo's behalf. after all, he's known him for the better part of a decade. "i'd trust gojo with my life."
"well this isn't your life we're talking about. this is much more important."
yuuji chuckles. "i know. that's exactly why we need help."
before sukuna can protest, yuuji's dialing his old sensei and asking to meet somewhere they can speak privately.
that's how they end up at a small bakery on the outskirts of tokyo, sukuna relaying the story for the second time that morning.
once he finishes, gojo leans back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head. "well, i don't think you're wrong about the higher ups being involved."
"so what are we supposed to do?" yuuji asks. "they might use her to get to me, but you don't think the higher ups would actually put her life in danger, do you?"
though yuuji's question is directed toward gojo, it isn't him that answers.
"you're as naive as ever," sukuna scoffs. "they'll stop at nothing to achieve their own ends."
gojo grimaces, a silent agreement with the assertion. "i can do some poking around, see who ordered it to be done."
"and what exactly is that going to do? there's no reasoning with them."
"a fact i am well aware of," the white haired man narrows his eyes at the king of curses. "but there is leverage in power, something i happen to have more of than anybody—"
"almost anybody—"
"so as the strongest, i'll take care of this as soon as i can."
"hey, um, so as productive as all the dick measuring is," yuuji interrupts. "it doesn't keep her safe in the meantime."
"i have an idea in that regard," sukuna says. "it's an ancient practice, and while it doesn't offer any protective measures, it will allow me to find her if they make another attempt like last night."
gojo leans forward, clearly interested to hear more.
"i can imbue a talisman with a part of myself and if she wears it, it will act as a beacon for her location."
"with part of yourself? as in, your cursed energy?" yuuji speculates. "wouldn't that do more harm than good? attract cursed spirits and whatever?"
"no, i'm not a fool. it's not cursed energy."
sukuna is hesitant to clarify further. he'd done something similar when creating his fingers, but it was different then. it was a selfish endeavor to preserve his life long after it was his time to die. it was a dark sort of jujutsu, one meant only to bring destruction.
but intention is important in sorcery. it can change the very essence of the practice.
for the first time in his life, sukuna is acting selflessly, concerned only with your protection. it's a pure sort of jujutsu this time around, one that allows him to impart a piece of himself that isn't tainted by cursed energy.
and because of that, that part of him would be unprotected. it'd leave him uniquely vulnerable. it's a steep and dangerous measure. that's why the practice had been forgotten long before the modern age.
"then what could it possibly be?" it's quiet for a moment as yuuji's question hangs in the air.
"it's your soul, isn't it?" the disbelief lacing gojo's voice is quite plain, but he's heard whispers of such techniques. "you'd give her a piece of your soul."
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sukuna's never been one for unfinished business, so it's no surprise when he finds himself on the couch, intent on finishing the stranger. besides, it had become clear he'd been focusing on the wrong aspects of the book when he first began reading it.
he's three chapters from the end when he hears a loud shatter from the kitchen, followed by a sharp gasp. the broken glass hasn't even finished sliding across the floor before he's at your side.
"what happened?" the alarm in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you.
"nothing, nothing," you assure him. "i just dropped my cup."
crouching down, you reach for one of the bigger pieces before your hand is swiftly smacked away. "don't."
"it's fine. it's only a little glass."
when you reach for it again, he grabs your wrist. "you troublesome little thing. do you ever listen?"
"i don't make a habit of it."
"i know. the question was rhetorical."
sukuna's already noticed the shards of glass surrounding your bare feet, so he wastes no time in picking you up and placing you on the countertop.
"don't move." he says it in such a way that, for once, you don't even think about disobeying him.
he all but stomps out of the room, returning moments later with a broom and dust pan. there's a small smile playing on your lips as you watch him gather the larger pieces before sweeping up the rest.
and you know, it's really not fair. sukuna could even call it a cosmic injustice, the way he has to worry about broken glass and fragile fingertips.
but he likes you and he likes the pads of your fingers, particularly the way they feel against his skin and run through his hair, so he swallows his pride.
it's been consuming him lately— the fact that you are just as easily broken as the glass that littered the kitchen tile. he never considered just how many ways there are for a human to die until you were nearly taken from him.
so once he's done, he rests the broom and dustpan against the wall and stands in front of you, his hips situated between your knees.
reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a necklace and your mouth falls open in shock. a delicate chain is threaded around his fingers, while its ruby pendant dangles in the air. "i want you to have this."
"what.. what is it?"
he snorts. "you don't know what a necklace is?"
you let out a breath of a laugh. "of course i do. i'm just surprised."
you hold up your palm and he places the necklace there gently. inspecting the gem, you notice it bears a striking resemblance to the color of his eyes.
strangely, it's almost as if it's heavier than it should be— like it's weighed down by some importance beyond your comprehension.
"it's beautiful," you tell him honestly. "are you sure?"
"sure of what?"
"that i should have it."
he pauses before responding, taking in the way you're so gingerly holding it. he's scared you've realized what he's actually giving you. that you're repulsed by it.
he's hesitant when he asks, "why would you think otherwise?"
"i didn't do anything to deserve something like this."
sukuna breathes a sigh of relief. "you are ever the fool."
his hands find your hips, pulling you off the counter and onto your feet. he plucks the necklace from your hand, then shifts to stand behind you.
moving your hair to the side, his fingers brush lightly against your skin. "the necklace is undeserving of adorning your neck. not the other way around."
and he knows it's the truth. a piece of him, attached to a creature so lovely she should be out of his reach... well, that's just unseemly, isn't it?
"but promise me something anyway."
"anything," you say without delay.
he situates the chain around your neck, the pendant lying in the space where your collarbones meet, and fastens the clasp. when you turn to face him, you're met with an alarmingly grave expression.
"promise you won't ever take it off."
you fiddle with the ruby somewhat nervously, feeling as if you're missing some important piece of the puzzle.
you nod in response to his request, but it isn't enough for him.
"say it."
"i promise."
he can see that you're biting back questions, so he explains, "if you're wearing that, i'll always know where to find you."
it finally dawns on you, for the first time, how much the incident at the store truly affected him. it's not the way he ended those men that clued you in, nor is it the way he pleaded with you to forgive him.
it happens in this moment. it's the gentleness of his voice, despite his underlying desperation. it's the way he's watching you carefully, as if you're likely to disappear. it's the fact he wouldn't let you clean up a mess of your own making, because he can't stand the thought of seeing you bleed.
"i... i don't know what to say."
"well, that's a first."
"shut up," you punch his shoulder. "you're ruining the moment."
"right, my bad," he chuckles and glances down at the gemstone. "do you like it?"
you let out a breath. "of course. i love it."
he smiles at your words— soft and genuine— truly a rare sight. "good."
you notice that he's looking at you. really looking at you. his eyes shift away from yours and over to each of your temples. then down to your nose. your mouth. even your chin.
he takes in every detail and he feels like he's in your debt simply for gazing at your countenance.
you almost regret it when your hands curl around the collar of his shirt and pull his lips to yours. you should have savored his smile, spent time committing it to memory.
although, that's soon forgotten as you feel the curve of his mouth deepen while his lips move against yours.
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it isn't until day three of your ceaseless coughing and sneezing that sukuna adds them to his list— broken glass, fragile fingertips, coughs, and sniffles.
his concern is clear from the way he dotes on you. he brings you cold cloths, makes you tea, massages your neck, runs you baths.
now he's on his way to a twenty four hour pharmacy to pick up more medicine to reduce your fever, and while it's only a block away, he's still doing it alone.
but not even for a moment does he consider running off to burn the world's largest city to the ground. the streets are crawling with people, but he finds himself avoiding them more than anything.
he has to get back to you after all.
the only thought on his mind other than you is the ending of the stranger. the main character, while awaiting his beheading from his prison cell, conveys his final words to readers:
for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, i opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. finding it so much like myself— so like a brother, really— i felt that i had been happy and that i was happy again. for everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, i had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators on the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate.
in sukuna's first life, perhaps this line would have resonated with him. it was a life where he had resolved himself to the idea that nothing really mattered, because the alternative was too painful. it didn't matter that jujutsu society betrayed him. it didn't matter that he stole people's lives out from under them. it didn't matter that he was alone.
and while he would have never surrendered himself to execution, if that had been his fate, he would have preferred to go out surrounded by living reminders of all he had accomplished. surrounded by all the people he had ruined.
however, when he imagines such an occurrence happening in his present life, there is only one face throughout the entire crowd and it belongs to you.
the very thought makes him sick with grief.
looking up, he realizes that there are no stars in tokyo anymore, that there is no feeling of indifference when it comes to you, and that there is no happiness to be had when you are not by his side.
he knows he'll never shed another drop of innocent blood if it means you'll always have that look of adoration in your eyes when your gaze falls on him.
so his trip to the pharmacy is short and hurried.
opening your apartment door, he's careful to be quiet in case you're sleeping, but he finds you peering at him from the couch.
your hair is disheveled. there's a sheen of sweat across your forehead. your eyes are beyond tired. your shirt is wrinkled.
you're still the most pleasing thing he's ever laid eyes on.
"you're back," you rasp.
"i'm back," he affirms, slipping off his shoes.
you sit up and quickly regret it, your hand coming to rest against your stomach. "god, i feel like i'm gonna puke."
"charming."
you use all your strength to throw a pillow at him, which he easily catches before tossing something small in your direction— a ginger chew to help with the nausea.
you unwrap it and pop it in your mouth. "thanks."
he hums in response, settling down in the spot beside you. once he pulls the medicine from the bag, it's followed by two bottles. "got you these, too."
recognizing them as your favorite drink, your exhausted and delirious brain makes your eyes well up with grateful tears. "you're so sweet."
"yeah, whatever. don't get used to it."
"but you are. you're sweet and kind, except i'm the only one who knows it," you pause before continuing, your head falling onto his shoulder. "why is that?"
he contemplates denying that he possesses any such quality, but decides against it. "you're the only one who's ever cared to know."
he can feel the heat of your temple through his shirt, so he opens the box of fever reducers and pops out two tablets before handing them to you. "take these. you're burning up."
you do as he says without protest. standing up and stretching your arms above your head, sukuna's eyes wander to where your shirt rides up and reveals your stomach.
"c'mon, let's go to bed," you yawn.
he follows after you wordlessly, carelessly pulling off his shirt and climbing into bed beside you. curling up against his side, your head comes to rest on his chest and it's quiet for a few passing moments.
"you can't see the stars from tokyo anymore."
"what?" you ask sleepily.
"the stars. there's too much light to see them from here."
"oh, yeah. we can take a trip to the mountains soon. you can see them pretty well from there."
"i'll hold you to that."
and so with the promise of a beautiful night sky, with the company of someone who means the world to him, and with the feeling of your body pressed against his— sukuna feels that he had been happy and that he was happy again.
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a/n 2: hey! so i'm sorry again for stopping updates without really saying anything. i think i just needed to step away from tumblr and writing for a while because i was getting a bit overwhelmed. i was also a little unsure about the direction of this chapter. i was struggling to incorporate the necklace part without it seeming cheesy or weird. that being said, thanks as always to everyone for your support of this series. it's really heartwarming and much appreciated. if you have any feedback, i'd love to hear! i'm not sure when the next update will be, but i'll do my best to keep you guys posted. all my love - m<3
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suashii · 1 year
Text
୨♡୧ YOU TURN ME ON LIKE A LIGHT SWITCH — things you do that unintentionally turn them on.
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featuring. itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser.
warnings. f!reader, established relationships, fingering, breast play, oral (m!receiving), a little bit of subby kaiser. all characters written 18+.
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₊˚ପ⊹ ITOSHI RIN
waking up without you in bed is a rare occurrence for rin. it's normal for him to rise before you and your absence would have worried him if it weren't for the noise coming from the kitchen. he tosses the comforter aside, swinging his legs over the mattress before pulling a pair of sweats out from his dresser. after the elastic is tied neatly, he starts toward the kitchen where he's sure he'll find you.
sure enough, the refrigerator is open and most of your figure is hidden behind the door. the sound of his approaching footsteps makes your head turn. you greet him with a smile. "good morning, rin."
"morning," he returns.
"want some coffee?" you ask, closing the door of the fridge with your hip. the action warrants rin a good view of you. to his surprise, you're wearing his dress shirt from last night. only a few buttons in are clasped in the middle, leaving your collarbone and the top of your chest on display. the shirt just barely covers your ass and he can see a peek of your pink, lacey panties beneath the garment.
"earth to rin. coffee?" you ask with a laugh, sparing him a glance from your place in front of the counter. you can tell his mind is elsewhere when he still fails to respond and, instead, walks over to stand behind you. your task becomes much more difficult when his arms wrap around you, lithe fingers dropping to toy with the hem of your panties.
the cool feel of his fingers creeping between your legs makes you shiver and causes you to think of the night before when they were buried in your cunt and rubbing sweet circles against your clit. you don't remember how many times he had you come undone on just his fingers before he pulled out his cock. you abruptly clear your throat in a weak attempt to concentrate on the topic at hand. "still waiting for an answer, rin."
he hums against your neck, pressing himself closer to you, effectively trapping you between the counter and his body. it's impossible to ignore the feel of his erection against your ass and any intention you have to focus on breakfast is out the window. "coffee can wait, i want you now."
₊˚ପ⊹ SHIDOU RYUSEI
steam seeps from the bathroom as you open the door, soft hums filling the silence of your shared bedroom while you grab the bottle of lotion from your vanity. a dip at the end of the mattress draws shidou's magenta eyes up from his phone, to your mostly naked figure. other than the short, fluff towel wrapped around your torso, the expanse of your skin is on display.
that much catches his attention but the water dripping down from wet hair is what keeps it. small drops of moisture roll down your neck and over the top of your breasts before soaking into the fabric of the towel. it makes shidou imagine what lies beneath the cloth, makes him wonder if your nipples are hard and what they'd feel like between his fingers. the thoughts make the blood rush down to his dick, a smirk curling the corners of his lips upward.
you're smoothing lotion on your legs when he meets you at the edge of the bed. there's a look in his eyes that screams no good but you try to pay him no mind, rubbing the moisturizer into your skin. though, it's difficult to ignore him when his arms wrap around your waist and his lips latch onto your neck.
you lightheartedly attempt to swat him away but your efforts go unnoticed as your boyfriend continues to leave a trail of kisses up your pulse. a large hand comes up from your midsection to paw at your tits.
"ryusei." his name is meant to come out firmly but your voice is a lot more breathy than it was supposed to be. you clear your throat before continuing. "cut it out, i just showered."
"i'll make it quick," shidou breathes against your skin. it makes the hairs on the back of your neck raise and chips away at your resolve. you can feel his smile against you as he speaks his next words. "and i'll even pull out."
₊˚ପ⊹ NAGI SEISHIRO
it never takes long for nagi to get ready and he's usually able to waste time on his phone while you finish putting yourself together. though, today, his phone sits on the bedside table hooked up to the charger and a cloud boredom lingers over the snowy-haired man's head. with a sigh he turns from his spot on the bed so that he's facing where you're sat at your vanity. quietly watching you should make the time go by faster.
he isn't particularly knowledgeable about makeup, but he silently follows each of your movements, watches you pat what he thinks is blush onto your cheeks and paint your eyelashes with mascara. he doesn't think much of it, that is, until you get to your lips.
his own part as you glide the applicator along the plump of yours, leaving a shiny gloss in its wake. it reminds him of the way your lips look when they're smeared with his precum only moments before you take his aching cock in your mouth.
the thought alone makes his pants feel tighter. it makes him wish the two of you were doing something else right now—that your lips were sticky with something that wasn't lipgloss. he wants to feel the warmth of your mouth around him, feel your tongue trace over each raised vein.
you catch sight of nagi's blank stare in the reflection of your mirror. returning the brush back to its tube, you rub your lips together before asking, "penny for your thoughts?"
"what?" he blinks?
"you're staring, sei," you tell him, meeting his eye in the mirror. "does my makeup look bad? is it too much?"
"no," he clears his throat, "it's pretty."
you hum and nod, eyes falling yo where his hand not-so-discreetly adjusts his pants. the bulge pressing against the cotton is hard to miss. you grin, spinning around on your stool to face him. "want me to handle that before we leave?"
₊˚ପ⊹ MICHAEL KAISER
kaiser isn't so easily distracted, especially not when he's on the field—even if it is merely for practice. though, staying focused has become more difficult since you joined the team as an athletic trainer. your presence on the field has exposed a new side of you, one that michael hasn't had the pleasure of seeing before but can certainly get used to.
he's supposed to be running drills now but his eyes keep drifting back to your figure on the sidelines. he can't hear your conversation well, not unless he happens to be passing by, but from the bits he can gather, you're not happy. gone is the honeyed voice he's grown used to. it's replaced by one that's much more firm and demanding, one that would tell anyone you mean business.
you yelling isn't all that catches his attention—your stance does, too. your arms are crossed against your chest, feet firmly planted in the grass. even though you're looking up at the man, you carry yourself as though it's the other way around. no wonder his teammate on the receiving end of your lecturing looks so uneasy.
the thought of being in his poor teammates shoes make the blood rush to kaiser's cock. he can't put his finger on why, but just imagining being at your mercy is enough to divert his attention from what he's meant to be doing.
the moment you send the man away, kaiser is rushing over to you, hopeful that some of your frustration from the interaction is lingering. he knows how adamant you are about keeping your personal and work life separate, so, in an attempt to be sure that you're still a little annoyed, he approaches you from behind, wrapping you in a loose hug. "damn, you're sexy when you're angry."
"not the time or place, kaiser," you grumble.
something about you giving him the cold shoulder turns him on even more. there's no way he's going to be able to make it through practice in this state, not when the only thing he can think about is being beneath you.
"come on, no one will mind if we step away for a bit." a grin pulls at his lips with his next words. "maybe i can help you blow off some steam."
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immajustvibehere · 7 months
Text
Touch Starved Arthur x fem!touchy Reader (Part 2)
Pairing: hh!Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader (fluffly)
Part1 here!
summary: Arthur takes you and Jack out camping for two nights. Both of you have to battle your feelings for each other until you finally....
warnings: one bed trope, fluff, domestic bliss
6000 words
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In the manner of Arthur’s approach, you knew he was up to something. His big hands rested on his gun belt, his expression was casual. His attempt to appear relaxed was almost perfect. You weren’t fooled so easily, though. By the smug grin that started to appear on your face as Arthur came closer, he understood that you had sensed his unease from a mile away. Your intuition was exceptional, and Arthur silently cursed himself for his own transparency. And suddenly, there were his subtle tells…the scratching of his neck, the scrunching of his nose, the restlessness of his fingers caressing the leather of the belt.
"Hey, what's up?", you asked and propped your head up with your elbow resting on the table.
"Uhm...I have a proposition to make", Arthur awkwardly sat down at the table. Thankfully, barely anyone else was around to witness this encounter. The sun hadn’t risen yet and people were only slowly crawling out of their beds. In fact, Arthur still saw the remnants of sleep in your features but the steaming mug of coffee in front of you suggested that you were diligently combating it.
"I'm all ears."
Arthur couldn’t help but detect the playful undertone in your voice. You had grown more comfortable around each other the last few days and weeks and some banter and teasing were commonplace by now, particularly in the presence of others. But when you found yourselves alone, which hadn’t really happened since last time, you’d feel like there was a more genuine connection and care for each other than either of you would normally let on.
"Ya can say no if ya don't want to but-...well, I already talked to Abigail. She said she was fine with it", Arthur started. You had no clue what he was on about, but he pressed on, "I suggested we take out Jack for a night or two. The boy needs to see something aside this patch of land and I thought...if you would wanna tag along? You know, I was fine fishing with him but I'm not sure if I'd be any good at the other stuff."
"Yes, of course", you immediately replied. Arthur wasn't sure why he had expected a rejection or a dismissal that he was stupid to suggest such a thing. You actually looked pleasantly surprised about the idea.
You smiled: "It's not just Jack, you know? I haven't left camp since we moved here, so I'll get to see some of the country too!"
"Okay, sure", Arthur said, still somewhat in surprise about what you had just agreed to. But his surprise soon gave way to a sense of anticipation, especially when he noticed enthusiasm. He couldn’t supress a warm chuckle, evidently relieved that everything had worked out.
You briefly discussed the logistics, and Arthur settled on a plan: a night between Dewberry Creek and Ringneck Creek for the first stop, followed by, if Jack was up for it, a night in a room at the Rhodes Saloon.
The following day, you were all packed up. Your horse carried a rolled-up tent, large enough to accommodate the three of you. Jack rode with Arthur, he was the experienced rider after all and would be much greater use in keeping the child from sliding off the horse. It was a fine day, the morning sun was veiled behind some clouds, offering a respite from the usual stifling heat. Rain wasn’t to be expected, the clouds looked like they would clear sooner or later.
For the ride, Jack was dead silent for ten minutes at a time but then asked any question he could come up with. Arthur appreciated your willingness to respond, particularly when faced with Jack’s more challenging inquiries that needed to be tailored for a child’s understanding. Arthur was outright impressed at your skill in addressing his questions, and kept silent, even if Jack wanted his view on something specifically.
It was a smooth ride. Once you had passed the first creek you kept looking for an ideal spot to build your camp. You watched happily how Arthur pretended to discuss the area with Jack, granting him the final say in where to put up the tent. Arthur was responsible for the tent while you went off with Jack to look for firewood. When you returned, the tent had been putt up and Arthur had already gotten out the fishing gear.
"Are we fishing again?", Jack asked with curiously.
"Well, we gotta eat something", Arthur answered.
"But fishing's boring!" Jack said back and Arthur chuckled warmly. The last time he took the boy fishing, it was anything but uneventful, though he understood that a four-year-old wasn't so keen on standing still and waiting.
You squatted in front of Jack: "Why don't you take your toys with you to the water? You can play and Arthur and I'll do the boring waiting."
"Mh, okay."
You walked over to Ringneck Creek. Arthur settled on the same spot he had been to while fishing with Javier a while back. It had a good overlook of the place, so Jack could play in the distance, while still being in eye- and earshot. You and Arthur sat down next to each other, not saying anything and prepping the fishing rod. Even when there were no words exchanges, both of you felt comfortable in each other’s presence. Arthur felt your eyes on him as he pierced a tiny bit of cheese through the hook and handed the rod to you.
“The fish get cheese for lunch? That’s mighty fine, don’t you think?”, you joked.
“This cheese? It has been mouldy for days now. It won’t do us any good. But for fish? The stinker, the better”, Arthur explained and added in a mumble, “Or so I’ve heard…”
You both threw out your line and before you quipped: “So you keep your mouldy cheese in your satchel with the rest of your food?”
Arthur watched the rings expanding around his line, then swallowed quickly before looking you in the eye. Not very convinced he answered: “No…?”
He had expected a lesson on proper food hygiene, but you only grinned cheekily: “Glad I took care of food for this trip. But you really shouldn’t do that, you know? Next time you leave camp for more than a day, I’ll pack you something.”
“Ya don’t have to do that, really”, Arthur replied out of politeness, but the idea of you walking up to him with a sandwich to take on his journeys sent tingles to his chest.
“Mh. I insist”, you said, “I’ll have to take care of you if your stomach goes mad, so I’d rather prevent that. Not that I wouldn’t like to take care of you. Don’t you never keep an injury or sickness a secret in front of me, got it?”
“Yes ma’am”, Arthur said, “You sound like Miss Grimshaw, it’s good yer away from camp for a while”, Arthur joked. Deep down, he knew that you didn’t want to control him, but that you sincerely cared for his well-being. Something Arthur couldn’t quite understand. Of course, he would do the same for you – but that’s different because he had already figured out that he liked your attention more than anyone else. No, that he liked you more than anyone else. Arthur got a little lost in his own thoughts. He wasn’t yet entirely sure about his feelings for you. Mainly because he wasn’t sure how you felt. You were so kind and caring for everyone in the gang, he sadly doubted that he was anything special.
“I missed spending some time with you. Sorry that it’s so hard to sneak away from camp”, you said after a while, bringing Arthur back to reality.
“Doesn’t matter”, Arthur mumbled. He was embarrassed that he felt his cheeks getting warm, “We got away now, didn’t we? I feel almost bad that I take up so much of yer time.”
“Please don’t”, you laughed, looking at the man next to you with a smile.
“I think I saw Sean shed a tear when he heard that you’d be away from camp for two days”, Arthur mentioned.
“Yeah. I think he’s sweet on me”, you said so casually, that Arthur was caught off guard, staring at you in disbelieve.
Arthur cleared his throat before he slowly said: “I thought he and Karen…?”
“Well, Karen is good for one thing”, you said with an ambiguous smile, not meaning serious offence with those words, “I’m good for another.”
From the distance, you heard Jack calling for ‘uncle Arthur’. Arthur sighed with a smile and handed you his finishing rod.
“Yer okay to watch that?”, he asked.
“Sure, go ahead”, you encouraged him.
Jack wanted Arthur’s help to balance on a dead tree. It was wholesome to see how Arthur helped him up on the trunk and then held his hand so he would have an easier time balancing. Then the boy would sit on Arthur’s shoulders and break a smooth looking branch from a tree, using it to play swords fighting with Arthur. You knew that Arthur was gentle with Jack and compared to some men in the gang, even to John if you were honest, he was doing a great job. Still, you hadn’t dreamt that he'd be ready to take on a whole swords fight, pretending to get stabbed when Jack’s twig poked his leg. You noticed Arthur’s stolen glances in your direction. It was as if he wanted to make sure you were watching, though you didn’t have the impression that he only played along to impress you. Arthur seemed to genuinely enjoy it.
“Caught anything yet?”, Arthur’s voice woke you up from your daydreams when he walked up to you after a while.
“No…”, you answered and admitted, “I was a little distracted.”
“Ain’t blamin’ ya. We gave you a hell of a show”, Arthur said and took his spot next to you again. Luckily, a few fish bit later on and by the time you walked back to your tent, a fire could be built and the fish were grilled. A lot of time had passed, and the sun was already low in the sky. Jack demanded to be read to from his favourite book. After you had read a few pages and Jack had settled in to listen to some more, you handed the book to Arthur. He had been busy with stoking the fire and cleaning the grit, so he was a little caught off guard by the action.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”, he asked.
“Read to the boy”, you answered with a grin.
“Why can’t you?”, Arthur asked, his eyebrows raised in wonder.
“My throat is starting to feel sore”, you lied so obviously, that even Jack could have seen through it, “besides; I want someone to read to me too.”
Arthur considered the situation for a moment before giving in. The last time he read a book to someone…well, he wasn’t sure. Was it to Jamie when he was still a little boy or to Isaac? Did he ever even read out to Isaac? Arthur was prompted into opening the book when you suddenly snuggled up to him. But that alone made him lose his voice for a moment, so he had to collect himself before starting to read.
You loved how raspy Arthur’s voice would get when he was nervous, but it soon smoothed out and he had barely read for ten minutes when you had to stop him, because Jack had fallen asleep.
“’s barely even dark…”, Arthur commented after he had carried the boy to his bedroll in the tent.
“He did have an eventful day”, you said, and Arthur had to agree. The bottle of whiskey Arthur had brought was soon opened up and half was gone by the time you could make out the first stars in the sky. A lot of your conversation was just recollecting the day or commenting on happenings on the last few days, but after some silence, Arthur started a new conversation.
"Maybe, if ya told me what the other men ask you to do, I'd feel less a fool for asking ya fer something", Arthur suggested. The undertone of his voice revealed curiosity, but he had tried to keep that intent hidden. You were surprised that he remembered what you had talked about the last time it was just the two of us.
"You're unbelievable!", you exclaimed and giggled so light-heartedly. Arthur's heart melted when he saw the crinkles around your eyes. "You just want the gang's gossip!", you accused him.
"No! I'm just sayin'", Arthur shrugged with a smile, "It would really help a lot."
You looked at him, his blue-greenish eyes staring right back at you. You were an avid eye-contact holder, it was required for your role in the gang. But no pair of eyes ever compared to Arthur's. It was his turn to catch your gaze wandering to his lips, he also noticed how your eyes fluttered, when they looked up again, and then briefly away, as if you considered something.
"Fine. I'll tell you some. But I won't tell you who asked me for what."
"Sure."
"Mhhh...it's not the craziest stuff, if you’re expecting that. Most men like when I play with their hair. Or head scratches. I told you I was good at them! Someone likes it when I feed them. Like...you know...we go pick some berries and I feed them. It can be really,...domestic, I suppose. But then it becomes a lot of fun because we try to throw the berries into each other mouths, trying to catch them. It’s great..."
You got slightly embarrassed. When you spend time with other men from the gang, you always tried to give them an experience that made them happy. Some of it was oddly intimate. It didn't bother you much, but now, speaking about it with Arthur, you somehow started to worry that you'd be worth less in his eyes. Just because you have done those things with his friends. It wasn't like you slept with them. No, none, with very few exceptional instances, have ever been inappropriate.
You were silent for a while, those thoughts taking over quickly. And yet, what should it matter? It’s just Arthur, it was okay if he knew that side of you.
You sighed deeply, still finding Arthur’s eyes glued to your lips.
"Some of them like to show off to me. It's real stupid stuff. Like 'look how quick I can draw' or 'check out this piece of wood I whittled'. I suppose these are just things they are mildly proud at...but embarrassed to show someone. I...like that, though. It's really cute and reveals something about the person. There is always something to praise or enjoy about it. And they really appreciate it."
Arthur stared into the fire, nodding his head slowly.
After a while, he started with: "I ehrm-..." Then he pulled out his journal.
"It's nothing special either...", he flipped through some pages, only to reveal a double-sided sketch of Clemen's Point. A beautiful sketch, well-observed with depth and detail. You knew Arthur kept a journal – you never knew he drew in it! And from all the sketches the other men had ever shown you, most of them could have been done better by Jack, this was honestly impressive.
"Arthur-"
"I know, 's silly", and he was about to close the journal when you snatched it out of his hand and placed it in your lap. Not daring to flip the page but studying the sketch in front of you.
"Are you kidding? It's fucking amazing."
When Arthur looked at you in disbelieve, you doubled down: "Fuck you, man. I can't even pick out things I like to praise because the whole damn thing's just-!"
"Yer teasing me..."
"Am not! When someone shows me a drawing, I often have to guess, like ‘Oh, that’s a nice bison you drew.’ And then they correct me and go like ‘It’s supposed to be a dog.’ and we have a good laugh about it…but this…Is that Dutch's horse?", you asked, pointing at the little white stallion. Arthur confirmed it. You started to point at things, accurately identifying what it was. John's tent, the chicken coop, even the figure in the distance, that only was a vague outline of a person, you identified as if you had been there when it was drawn.
"You have more drawings in there?", you asked.
"Sure. But- wait", he took the journal back, carefully skipping the pages where he had sketched you, which had happened suspiciously often recently, and only showing you the landscapes and animals. You never expected that Arthur had an eye for things like that. A doe was captured perfectly in its shy manner. A funny looking cabin, a crooked tree. For all those things, Arthur stopped and took his time to draw them. It was stunning. You felt like he had given you a better idea of what sort of a man he actually is. To say you liked that version of him, was an understatement and you started to realise this with every sketch of ducks or fish he presented to you.
"When you find someone, someone you really like. And start a family...you could draw and sell those pictures, you know?"
Arthur was shocked. Firstly, why you knew about his wish to start a family, and secondly, that you suggested his drawings are nearly good enough for anyone to pay money for.
"Y/n", Arthur lamented, almost with a painful voice. As if you were that naive girl that had no idea about how life works. That there could never be a family for him, never a different life than shooting and robbing to get to some money.
"Have you ever painted? Like with colour and a paintbrush?", you interrupted.
"Ain't worth it. I'd be no good with colour. And it's too expensive."
"When's your birthday?", you asked out of the blue. You were determined. If you had to work your ass off for it or drop to your knees in front of Miss Grimshaw, you'd get this man a paintbrush.
"No", Arthur said firmly.
"Come on!", you quipped.
"Stop it. It's just a stupid thing I do to pass some time it ain't-"
"But I love them!", you interrupted, "I really do. Every single one you showed me."
"Clearly, something ain’t right in your head then", Arthur joked and put his journal away.
"You are a charming man, Mr. Morgan," you teased back, bumping into his shoulder.
As if your words had confirmed Arthur's accusation, he comically tapped your forehead with his index finger: "Really messed up, aren't you?"
"Why?", you said, switching gears and skilfully capturing Arthur's finger that had went for another tap. It took both of your hands to open Arthur's hand, not that he resisted, but his hands were huge. And with your guidance, Arthur's hand cupped your cheek. "Is it because I like to spend time with you? Do you think one has to be mad to enjoy that? Because if you do think that...I have to give you ten reasons why you are wrong."
Arthur barely listened to your words. His senses were hyper focused on his hand which was touching your cheek. Warm and soft. Not smooth like a perfect hide, but skin isn't perfect. Hell, his hand must be mighty uncomfortable. It was calloused, beaten up, scarred. There was no rational reason why you would snuggle your face into it like it was a pillow you readied for a night's sleep.
With pleasure you watched how often he blinked, how flustered he became, how his hand twitched in excitement under your touch. As careful as you were some butterfly, Arthur’s thumb dared to caress your cheek. The movement was so small, it was like he didn’t even want you to notice that you he had dared to do that. Somehow, this rough and hardened outlaw was a real sensitive guy. A sensitive guy who made your stomach flutter.
"I'll head to bed and join Jack, you coming too?", you asked, guiding Arthur's hand into your lap and holding in lightly with your two hands.
"Imma...t-take care of the fire a little longer", Arthur answered with coarse voice, his throat entirely dried up.
"M'kay", you smiled and stood up without letting go of Arthur's hand. Halfway in the process of standing up you halted, pressing a light kiss on Arthur's cheek and whispered good night, before finally letting go and walking off to the tent.
Though you were exhausted, it was tricky to sleep. You listened to Arthur who was still attending the fire, walking up and down, whispering to the horses and occasionally took a swig from the bottle. Jack slept at the side of the tent, you had taken the spot in the middle. No matter how long it felt until sleep finally took over, Arthur crawled into the tent ten minutes later, only to find out that you had messed with the sleeping set-up. It wasn’t the way he had arranged it, namely, a very inequal distribution of blankets and ‘pillows’ (rolled-up jackets or other garments). Arthur had planned to spend the night without a blanket, so you and Jack had two. But you had given up one of yours, which neatly waited on Arthur’s bedroll for him.
“She ain’t gonna make this easy for me”, Arthur thought, before lying down.
-
“Uncle Arthur!”, Jack squatted next to the man who was still fast asleep. Well, until the boy started to shake him with all his might, though it barely rattled the man.
“Aunt y/n told me to wake you”, Jack smiled innocently. Arthur was trying to grasp the situation. For a fleeting moment, he thought there was danger nearby. Then he had been confused about why Jack was there. Only slowly, as Jack left the tent and the rays of sunshine hit his face, he remembered that he had went out camping with you and the boy. And clearly, he had overslept.
Arthur crawled out of the tent and stood up with a groan, stretching his tired limbs. The smell of coffee had reached his nose before he looked down to see Jack walking towards him, a half-filled cup in his hands.
“For you”, he exclaimed. Arthur took the mug and mumbled his thanks, looking up a little to finally lay eyes on you. The fire was on, the percolator boiling with water, and he saw that you were in the process of readying a little pan for some eggs you had apparently taken from camp.
“Good morning”, you said with a big smile.
“Sorry I overslept…”, Arthur grumbled, sitting down by the fire.
“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you could catch up on some sleep.”
Breakfast was nice. You scrambled some eggs, garmented them with herbs you had collected earlier and re-filled Arthur’s mug. Jack was happy after eating a few bites and then playing with his toys in the distance. Arthur and you discussed the rest of the day and decided you would take your time, see if Jack was up for a ride and a stroll through Rhodes and spending another night at the Saloon.
Later, Jack helped you with washing the dishes at the creek. You managed to talk him into throwing a wet rag at Arthur, which he answered by throwing the rag back at you. This started a game of dogde or catch the rag. You laughed a lot. By mid-day you were on your horses, carefully navigating the shadows to escape the relentless sun. After one very slow hour of riding, with breaks whenever Jack discovered something interesting on the ground that needed further investigation, you arrived in Rhodes. After restocking on groceries, you made your way to the saloon, finding it relatively quiet and peaceful still.
“Can I help you, folks?”, the bartender asked, leaning on the counter.
“A room, please”, Arthur stated briefly. The bartender considered you for a moment, his eyes wandered from Arthur to you and finally your hand that rested protectively on Jack’s shoulder.
“We have a special deal for families. Spacious room, enough beds and a discount on a bath”, the bartender explained, opening the ledger where he kept track of which rooms were taken.
“Sounds great!”, you chimed in happily before Arthur could do as much as open his mouth.
“There you go. Walk up the stairs behind there, first door on the right”, the bartender handed you the keys, “Just let me know when you want the water heated up.”
“Will do, thanks!”, you answered. Your free arm was quickly intertwined with Arthur, who was taken by surprise. He stiffened a little but walked off with you and Jack rather convincingly.
“Whoa! This bed is huge!”, exclaimed Jack when you walked into the room.
“Ain’t for you though, little man”, Arthur chuckled. The room was equipped with a bed that was big enough to fit a couple and a toddler, but there was still a children-sized one in the corner. Arthur noticed how your arm slipped away from his as you entered the room, dropping some of your luggage onto the floor.
“Luxurious, isn’t it?”, you smiled. It was definitely better than the rooms you’d get in Valentine and probably even cleaner than the other ones the saloon had to offer. Jack was settling in, testing how bouncy his mattress was and unpacking his toys while Arthur walked up to you, clearing his throat.
“Yer fine with sharin’ a bed?”, he asked.
You raised an eyebrow: “We shared a tent last night, and that was a much tighter fit, wouldn’t you say so?”
“I guess…”, Arthur felt a little helpless. Sharing a bed felt more domestic and intimate than sharing the same tent. Also, Jack wouldn’t be all snuggled up to you, but in his own bed at some distance. Frankly, Arthur was excited. You watched his frown, not quite sure if its origin was because of discomfort or simple nervosity.
“Are you okay with that? I could bring my bedroll and-“, you wanted to suggest, but Arthur was quick to interrupt you: “I just didn’t know if you were fine with it. I don’t want ya to feel uncomfortable.”
“Don’t worry about me”, you smiled, “I’ll go down and ask for a bath. Abigail will be glad I we bring the boy back cleaner than he was before.”
Arthur was alone in the room for nearly an hour, before you and Jack appeared with damp hair, smelling of soap. It was decided that Arthur would also make use of the warmed-up water, and as he went off to the bathroom, you and Jack set your plan in motion.
By the time Arthur returned he was met with a sight that initially puzzled him. The two of you had transformed the little corner with Jack’s bed using the limited resources available to you, creating a makeshift fort out of pillows and blankets. Jack’s small bed had been turned into a cozy cave of sorts, sheltered from the outside world to the point where you needed a lantern to read a book within.
Arthur didn’t even see you at first, he only heard Jack’s bubbly giggle and you shushing him. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to play along and pretend that he didn’t know where you were…like some sort of hide-and-seek. But he decided against it, instead sighing happily, and sitting down on the big bed.
“I can hear ya, ya know?”, he said gently.
“No you can’t!”, Jack said back.
“Should have built it bigger, doesn’t look like I’ll fit underneath there”, Arthur commented. Now, you peeked out. Arthur saw how you opened a mouth, but something stopped you for a moment. His hair was wet and slicked back. He hadn’t even bothered putting on his shirt, but instead only wore his pants and union suit underneath. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to button it all the way up. It hugged his muscles perfectly. You knew he was in good shape, but you hadn’t expected THIS.
“Shouldn’t have grown so big then”, you finally said, a fine blush on your cheeks.
As the evening advanced, you had read several chapters to Jack, lulling him into slumber. You then quietly slipped into the bed beside Arthur. After some casual conversation which both of you skilfully and awkwardly used to get closer to each other, Arthur asked something that had been on his mind for a while: "What do you get out of it? All the nurturing and caring for everyone in the gang? Has any one of them ever done right by you?"
"Well...I have a place to stay and sleep. I don't have to worry too much about earning money. And I like making others happy."
Arthur didn't like that. A place to sleep and food, he felt like, shouldn't be things you had to earn by listening to the complaints of others all the time.
"All you get is hearing the troubles of some dirty, foolish outlaws. Ain’t really a life, is it?"
"Some make me happy too", you admitted, quietly. You realised how Arthur tensed up slightly.
"I get to know y'all. Don't you think that's a privilege? For a woman my age? Others can't simply walk around in the street, offer some hand-holding a listenin' and expect this to pay for their meals."
"You want to do this for the rest if your life?", Arthur asked. You scanned his body, focusing on the dark hair that grew on his chest.
"No", you whispered, and gently, you put your hand on his chest. You felt his heart, no, you saw how it beat, the skin of his chest swiftly moving in an up and down movement.
Arthur...was different than the others. You didn't know if it was that there was an actual difference, or if it just felt differently. But the way he treated you, the way he held you...it was so gentle. Like it was touch meant for a lifetime. The others were slightly more prudish, because they knew they had a couple of hours with you and maybe they'd be shot and die the next day. Somehow...not Arthur. When he pulled you closer into a hug, it was always the same, as if it was a welcome back, a coming home. There was no holding onto it, because he sorts of knew you would always be there. And you wanted it to be like that too. Because you, as tricky it was to admit, had feelings for this man.
Now it was you who caught Arthur staring, staring at the unsure movements your lips made as you searched for something to say. Maybe to explain what this all meant to you.
"Do you think it's ridiculous, what I do?", you asked. You wanted to know Arthur's opinion, truly.
"What? No."
"Really?"
"Hell, we'd be a bunch of degenerates if ya didn't keep us together. Yer ignoring Micah. For good reasons, I gotta say, and look what a slimy no-good he is. We'd be all like that if it wasn't for you", Arthur said. There was humour in his voice, but he meant what he had said. You smiled slightly.
"I wish I had come to you earlier", Arthur said.
"We are making up for the lost time, aren't we?", you said and leaned into him. The gesture seemed so familiar that Arthur wrapped his arms around you with barely any thought. Arthur watched your fingers as they trailed through his hair on his chest, never resting somewhere for long but tracing lines from his collar bones to where his beard started on his neck.
“Do you mind?”, you whispered, your fingers resting on a button of his suit.
Arthur subtly shook his head and watched how you unbuttoned one button after another. You had him slip out of the sleeves so the suit could be pulled further down, now exposing his entire abdomen to you.
There was no way he could hide his hitched breath. Your touch tickled pleasantly as your fingers explored his skin. He was enjoying those careful attentions, you'd trace around bruises and old scars, Arthur was focused on how it felt differently, the abused flesh and the scar tissue that had lost sensitivity. He noticed, either for the first time ever, or he had forgotten in the meantime, how ticklish he was on his side, under the ribs. He had no urge to laugh, but his body reacted to your touch differently, squirming when your skin brushed over his. Arthur noticed that you took a liking to those reactions, because he felt the corner of your mouth, which was pressed into his arm as you leaned into him, curl into a smile.
It was quiet. Sometimes the yells of a bar fight could be heard or someone hammering on the piano, but that aside, it was only Jack's silent snores that disturbed the peace.
"Arthur?", you whispered and sat up.
"Mhm?", Arthur looked sleepy. It wasn't even that late yet, but something about the situation was making him sleepy in the best way. You said nothing more. You only put your hand on his cheek, briefly caressing his stubble.
"Would it be okay if I kissed you?", you asked.
For a few moments, Arthur's mind went completely blank. He only breathed a shaky "Yeah" and your lips brushed his already.
Instantly, Arthur's hands pulled you in closer. You were close, lips brushing, breathing each other's air. It was all you needed, before both of you finally pressed into each other.
You knew Arthur was gentle, but this sort of tenderness took even you by surprise. And Arthur- well, he was pretty sure he was dreaming. When was the last time he had kissed a woman? No, when was the last time he kissed a woman and felt like his heart was about to explode in his chest. He had craved this ever since the night you spent together. And by the way your hands wandered to his hair, fingers running through his strands, he knew you had wanted it just as much.
It was a soft kiss and both of you looked sort of surprised when it had ended. Arthur sat up slightly and pulled you on his lap, which earned him a happy grin. You started to pepper the man in front of you with kisses. Super light, as if a breeze was brushing his forehead, his cheek, his nose, under his ear, the corner of his lips. You had lost count, stirred on by a blushing Arthur underneath you.
"D-don't ya think that's enough?", Arthur said, kind of trying to dodge your kisses, but not really.
"Nope. You deserve this!", you said, but when you headed for his nose, Arthur managed to turn it into a proper kiss again.
Then you sank on his chest, lying on top of him with his arms wrapped around you.
For Arthur, this was a weird feeling at first. But he loved how your weight pressed him down into the mattress and how your hands always found a piece of his body to caress and tickle. He was embarrassed about how dry his mouth and throat became again, all of a sudden. He was convinced you realized how often he had to swallow and how hesitant he still was to move his hands any further down than the small of your back. Though if you noticed, you were very understanding. You clearly heard his heart hammering in his chest and waited patiently for it to calm down before speaking again.
"Can I tell you something silly?”, you said, lost in thoughts.
"Sure"
"I liked it when the bartender referred to us as family."
"Me too", and his hold on you became ever so tighter.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
@eyelovie @t3rritorial-piss1ngs @daenerysluvrr @cookiesandcreaminthetardis @tem60 @freshoutthewomb2 @itswormtrain @ineedyoubadly @lea-khena @anawkwardartistandgamer @pheesupremacy @tahitiansiguesss @c2ss1e @alyxhasonsocks @kagemaruzest69 @agaritas @lonesome-ranger @joelmillers-gf
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fyorina · 15 days
Text
ᡣ𐭩 OFFICE ESCAPADES
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: dazai decides to take advantage of everyone leaving the office for lunch to get some much needed time with you. you know it's a mistake, and that you're going to get caught, but you can't bring yourself to deny him—you never can. (wordcount: 1kish; nsfw)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: i was going to give you guys a long one shot today but i got cold feet unfortunately </3 maybe next week i'll have the balls to post it. for now, take a lil drabble i wrote
GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, public ??? not sex but it was getting heated
“They’ll all be back any minute,” you whisper, voice breathless as you feel Dazai’s lips drag down your neck, soft and wet as he sucks and nips at your skin. 
He only responds with a hum, and you know your words probably aren't even even registering through his head. You think that you should be more insistent—push him back and get off of his lap, because Kunikida will be livid if he comes back to the office to find the two of you in a compromising position, and Yosano and Ranpo will never let you hear the end of it. But it’s hard to focus with Dazai’s tongue tracing patterns on your neck, with his fingers digging into your hips as he grinds you down on his cock.
His touch is dizzying, fogging your mind of all common sense, and he’s been testing your limits all morning so really, how can you blame yourself for finally giving in to a little release?
It started with subtle brushes and lingering touches that set your skin aflame, then came the lidded stares as he watched you instead of doing his work, and finally, just before lunch break, when you went into the kitchen to grab some water, he followed you right in under the guise of grabbing a snack from one of the upper cabinets. He caged you against the counter and pressed his body against yours as he reached above you, the outline of his cock pressing into your ass for a few seconds too long before Kunikida started yelling for Dazai to hurry up. 
“It’s fine, bella,” he finally murmurs against your skin, acknowledging your words. “Relax.”
“It’s not-“ You try to say, but Dazai doesn’t even give you the chance to finish the sentence, lifting his head from your neck to capture your lips with his. 
And if his touches are dizzying, his kisses are addicting. Your eyes flutter shut when you feel his lips moving against yours, painfully slow but you feel like you can’t even breathe, tongue brushing along your lower lip to get you to part them for him. You think you could kiss him forever and never get enough of it. 
His hands slip beneath your shirt, warm palms sliding up and down your sides as if to try to calm you down.  
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, breath hot against your lips as his eyes trace yours, lidded and hazy. “Heaven-sent.”
“Osamu,” you protest, a bit flustered. Dazai is always poetic and flowery with his compliments but heaven-sent?
Dazai lets out a soft noise, you can’t tell if it’s a moan or a shaky breath as his hips jerk up enough to make your body shudder. God, this is so bad, you know it and you know he knows it even if he won't admit it. This needs to stop before anyone walks in but neither of you can drag yourself away from the other.
“It’s the truth,” he replies, reverence dripping from his tone as he stares up at you, dark eyes wide with an emotion so intense that it has your breath catching. “You’re divine, utterly angelic. You’re not meant to be with someone like me. I’ll ruin you.”
You can’t tell if it’s a warning, a threat or a promise—maybe a combination of all three. Your fingers trace his cheekbones as you cup his face, eyes searching his as you ask with a teasing smile, “What if I want you to?”
The reaction is instantaneous—Dazai’s eyes darken, pupils dilating as he stares up at you. His grip on your hips tightens just a bit. 
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Dazai rasps, his voice is a bit lower, a far cry from the loud dramatic tone he usually took—heat pools in your lower stomach as you let out a soft puff of air.
“I do,” you reply, leaning down to nip his jaw, relishing in the way he instinctively lets his head fall back, baring his throat for you. You kiss down to where his bandages peek out from under his shirt, before trailing back up to the spot behind his ear that makes him writhe, smiling against his skin when you hear the soft, pitched moan that spills from his lips. “I want you to ruin me, Osamu. In every possible way you can.” 
Dazai’s lips part to respond, but he doesn’t get the chance. The office doors slam open and Kunikida is shouting: “You two have no decency!”
You throw yourself off of Dazai’s lap, flustered and hot as you fix your shirt and make your way back over to your own desk, ignoring Yosano’s cat calls and Ranpo’s snickering.
Your fingers tremble as you log back into your computer, but it’s hard to concentrate when you can feel Dazai’s gaze on you even as Kunikida shouts at him. 
You peek over one last time—he’s resting his head on on his hand as he stares in your direction, gaze lidded and so intense that you can barely bring yourself to imagine the thoughts that might be running through his head. 
When he catches you looking, the corner of his lip quirks up into a smirk, and you think, balefully, that there’s no way you’re going to last another six hours of work with him looking at you like this.
And more importantly, there’s no way you’re going to survive the night with him now that he's being given six hours to come up with countless ways to ruin you. 
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stariikis · 29 days
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what's your ETA?
synopsis ; in a crowded train headed towards your friend's art showcase, you and your boyfriend are caught in an awkward position.
pairing ; non-idol!nishimura riki x fem!reader genre ; fluff, established rs, literal forced proximity wc ; 1180 warnings ; kissing (a lil bit in public), lots of teasing, and mentions of height difference..
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“I swear, if you make one more cup of coffee and insist you have to drink it before we go, I'll personally push you onto the train tracks.”
Nearly spitting out his beverage, Riki swallows abruptly and coughs. “Now, I would say I’m used to your violent tendencies, but that’s just gory. But I’d honestly like to see it.” His eyes shine with an unsettling excitement that has you blinking rapidly. 
“You won’t be alive to see it…” You tilt your head and feign confusion. In reality, this is both your way of flirty banter. Since Riki just loves to tease you, you believe it’s only fair that you should be allowed to tease back. However, your version of teasing is questionably rude at times, way worse than any fireball of quips Riki showers you with. 
“You wanna go or not?” Riki sighs, his mug making a clunking sound on the table when he puts it down. “I’m ready to just sit here and argue with you until night — I’m not the one desperate to see Sunoo’s art exhibition.” 
“No, I swear it’s not because I’m desperate to go. You’re the one who’s closer to him though?” You shake your head and frown in bewilderment. “Fake friend.” 
Riki whips around in his seat. “Pick me!”
”Bad boyfriend!” You erupt into laughter and lunge forward to ruffle his hair. 
Playing along, Riki gets up and pushes you gently away from him. But at the same time his fingers grab ahold of your wrist, holding you close, like he doesn’t really mean it. He’s casting the bait, eyes that look deeply and adoringly into yours glimmering with enthusiasm. 
“You’re taking it to heart. Don’t take it to heart,” he murmurs, and leans in to kiss you, voice dropping down to a low. “Pathological liar.” Before you have time to protest, he giggles, hugging you close as if daring you to spit out another one of your alleged, ‘lies’. 
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When you both reach the station, its difficult to see through the sardine-packed crowd of people in front of you. “It… is so crowded,” you tiptoe to be able to whisper in Riki’s ear – and even that’s not enough, he has to lean down with a huff of amusement for you to reach. “Why is it so crowded today?” 
Shrugging his shoulders loosely, Riki slips his hand into yours, squeezing it tight. “You’re the one who wanted to go to this art show.” He mutters quietly. “Kim Sunoo’s, no less. You know we can just ask him to conduct a private show for us?” 
“Is supporting your friends a concept nonexistent to you?” You snap, feigning irritation but responding by rubbing your thumb over his. Your boyfriend pretends to be hurt by this, staggering backwards as much as he can in the crowd. His free hand clutching his chest, the playful atmosphere set by your banter fades when he looks at you. Wearing a gentle smile, he leads you into the train when the doors and gates slide open. 
He manages to secure you both a spot along the wall near the right-hand-side doors. You can tell by the guilt in his eyes that he wants to find you a seat too, but you’re probably going to get dirty looks from the elderlies if you do so. Luckily, he saves you the social torture and doesn’t force you to take a seat. 
The first few stops the train makes are still bearable. Riki is squashed a little too close for comfort at times, caging you in against the wall while you just stare ahead as if nothing’s happening. You ignore the tingles the situations send, all the way from your neurons down to your toes. However, when the crowd dissolves as they alight at their respective stations, you can breathe a sigh of relief. 
Like usual, Riki makes a snide remark about your morning breath (even though you’re quite certain your dental routine is competent), and returns to scroll on his phone. What disheartens you, though, is how genuinely uninterested he seems in Sunoo’s exhibit. And how bored he seems to be, despite being here with you. 
There’s a nonchalant faze across his face as he scrolls social media, leaning in close with a hand adjusting its grip on the grab bar next to you. You tilt your head, chest starting to ache. Does he really not care as much as you’d like to think he does? To not even feel an ounce of excitement in this moment? 
The train screeches to a halt as if agreeing with your intrusive thoughts. There’s still a long way to travel downtown to where the exhibit is held, and unfortunately for you, this is the most crowded station the train has stopped at by far. So many people pour into the carriage that it’s not even five seconds before Riki’s whole body is pressed up against yours. 
He drops the arm holding his phone down to his side. 
People are pushing you on both sides, and suddenly there’s a wave of gratefulness that you’re not stuck in the middle of the carriage. As if your current situation isn’t painful enough. Your boyfriend can’t meet your eyes, and it’s not surprising. With your noses mere inches apart (only because of the height difference), even you, usually assertive and confident, have to look into the distance. 
“Sorry…” Riki says in a hushed tone, moving his lips closer to your ear. His head has practically dropped down onto your shoulder, and you can feel yourself filled with vigorous tremors. He slips his phone into his back pocket, and the hand previously holding it snakes protectively around your waist. You blink up at him, expecting a warm look down, but all you’re met with is narrowed eyes carefully scanning the surroundings. 
His neck still dipped downwards, he hugs you close when the final few people slip into the train. Clearly feeling you shaking, he hums soothingly into your ear, “you’re safe”. “You have me.” “Don’t be too scared.” Anything else he says goes in one ear and goes out the other. 
Because. In such a situation, what would you expect your boyfriend to proceed to do? a), Accept fate and stay in position, b), shyly turn away from the deathly awkwardness, or c), giggle and tilt his head to pepper kisses along your neck? 
Riki chose C. 
He’s so gross, you think, but only when you’re stumbling out the train and running all the way to Sunoo’s exhibit to save yourself from remembering the situation more. Why did he ever do that? I should have shoved him away and called him a pervert and acted as if I didn’t know him. 
What a lie — when he was pressing a final kiss against your cheek your first thought wasn’t even remotely close to wanting to shove him away. Rather, you had pouted, arms wrapped around his neck, because he’s going to have to make up for being both indifferent towards you and making you so late. 
(It is never really his fault.)
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thank you for reading! i'm so sorry for the lack of uploads recently, life has just gotten a little bit busier and i finally got a lil break so i decided to write this prompt i thought of a while back!
more of my works >
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kentopedia · 8 months
Text
dating port mafia boss dazai
contents: f!reader, implied violence, mostly dazai spoiling you so much, dazai is very soft in this, one litte nsfw scene !!
note: this reeks of self indulgence :,) my current obsession is pmboss!dazai being so sweet & gentle to his s/o
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it goes without saying that if you're in the port mafia when you start dating dazai, he’ll probably want you to take less work in the field.
bc his main goal is keeping you safe, and he constantly worries about you when you're going on dangerous missions !!
though, sometimes you miss being in all the action. so, dazai will send you on missions with chuuya or akutagawa from time to time
he still worries, but he has no doubt they can keep you safe!!
he hates being nervous about whether or not you’ll come back to him, but he never wants you to feel like you're a prisoner in your own home.
if you want to go with him, anywhere or anytime, to any meeting, you just have to ask!
bc he trusts you completely <3 and he also knows you can take care of yourself.
if you want to work in other parts of the mafia, whether that be in training, intelligence, or behind the scenes work, dazai doesn’t care
he pretends to be uncompromising on some issues, but you can convince him of anything with a pretty smile.
but, if you're not in the port mafia, he (unfortunately) will make sure you have a bodyguard with you almost everywhere.
you insist its not necessary, but he knows he's made a lot of enemies that would love to use him against you. :(
though dazai has his moments of insanity (lol), he doesn't want to drive you away from him.
if you say its too much, he'll figure out something else. another way to keep you safe.
eventually, you come live with him, so that takes care of that.
dazai spoils you senseless !!
if he's ever late for a mission, he always comes back with something for you.
sometimes its flowers, sometimes its something even more elaborate
loves loves loves giving you jewelry
but everything he buys is very thoughtful!
he doesn't buy you expensive gifts just to flaunt money
its more that there isn't a price tag on things to him. if he sees something he thinks you'll like, it'll be yours, no matter the cost <3
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"i'm home!" you said cheerfully, dropping your bag off by the door as you shouted to dazai through the penthouse.
the sound echoed back, and dazai didn't respond.
with a yawn, you headed towards your bedroom, stretching your muscles as you walked. the weather had been miserable that week, and between the heat and the rain, you were feeling more tired than ever.
what you longed for was a nice hot shower and a night in dazai's arms.
"osamu?" you said again, but the apartment remained quiet. there was no one in your bedroom when you opened the door.
you sighed, disappointed that he wasn't home to lay with you as you took a nap. though, your attention was quickly diverted by the newest addition to your bed.
a soft brown teddy bear, the same color as dazai's eyes, held a card, and a dark velvet box, paired with a bouquet of fresh flowers on your nightstand.
the note was short, but it was enough, and you couldn't help but smile as you read it.
i have to go out of the city for tonight. i'll be back in the morning. sorry i can't be with you, my darling. here's a little apology gift. i love you. - osamu
as usual, the gift was anything but small.
you flipped open the delicate box to reveal a gold necklace, a deep ruby dangling from the chain in the shape of a heart.
for a moment, you did nothing more than stare at the glittering gem that was edged by smaller diamonds, and you swelled with more love than your chest could handle.
carefully, you set the box down, wondering what you ever did to deserve something so beautiful. as much as you wanted to wear it immediately, you'd wait until osamu was back so he could help you put it on.
instead, you placed the card and the necklace by the flowers, and climbed into bed with the stuffed animal. as you nestled deeper into the comforter, curling your arms around the bear, you realized dazai had sprayed it with his cologne before he left.
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dazai isn't the best about telling you how he feels. he is so much better at showing it.
if it isn't obvious, he loves buying you gifts! he has so much money as the port mafia boss, and he has no idea what to do with it. why not spend it on you!!
if you see an outfit in the store window that you like, dazai will have it tailored to your precise measurements. (which he has memorized, of course).
he loves shopping for you.
when he buys you pretty dresses, lingerie, and so on, all the other women in the store are swooning over him.
he knows exactly what you like and don't.
even if he thinks you'd look so beautiful in something, he knows your sense of style.
dazai doesn't want you to ever feel obligated to wear something just bc he picked it out for you.
of course, dazai always gives you his card to go shopping
and to get your nails done! he's obsessed with how pretty your hands look after getting a fresh set <3
he's loves them whatever color/design you think looks best. but i'd be lying if i said he wasn't obsessed with red nails.
dazai really loves the way they looked wrapped around his-
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you rested your head on dazai's shoulder, letting your hands gently splay across his knee, your fingertips moving in a listless, delicate pattern.
though a film played before you, it was forgotten quickly, dazai's breath catching as he exhaled a laugh. "what are you doing?" he asked, and you smiled innocently, drifting your hand further up his thigh.
"nothing."
he blinked at you with wide brown eyes and swallowed, his throat bobbing as you reached his hip. you wrapped a delicate finger around his zipper, pulling it down slowly.
"nothing, hm?" he countered.
you turned to face him, sweeter now, as you tugged at his waistband. though dazai feigned disinterest for a moment, you felt him twitch beneath the thin layer of clothing.
his focus drifted down to your much softer hand, perfectly manicured and smaller than his own. he seemed fascinated, for a moment, by the way your fingers were moving. "your nails look pretty, love."
"i know.” you grinned. dazai's hips shifted, and you lowered his waistband, pressing a line of kisses up his neck slowly, teasing him.
you freed his cock, aching and hard, from his pants, and wrapped your hand around him. dazai let out a small gasp, though he watched as you lazily stroked him, the action perfected from experience.
"you're so pretty, 'samu." you watched his face turn red as he tried hard not to fall apart under your touch.
it was reassuring, really, to know that the most powerful man in the city was wrapped around your finger.
"not as pretty as you, baby," he said, but the word came out strained, raspy as you tightened your fist, running your teeth across the taut vein in his neck.
you laughed and moved onto his lap, kicking the remote off the couch before straddling him. his eyes melted into hearts as he stared up at you, begging for a kiss.
"you’ve been so busy this week,” you frowned. “i wanna make you feel good."
dazai jerked into you, breathing stifled as you brush your thumb over the tip. "you always do." his smile was affectionate, but his touch was desperate, digging into your sides. he was already searching for some sort of release.
"so impatient," you said, but you indulged him with a kiss anyway, his hands fisting in your hair as your tongue met his.
he breathed into you mouth, hot and heavy. "fuck," dazai hissed, lifting your hips to slip off your pajama shorts. "it's hard not to be when you're so fucking perfect, sweetheart. i need to be inside you."
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dazai loves loves loves taking you out to expensive restaurants <3
he's not a big fan of crowds, though, so he'll rent out the entire place instead, just to get a private room for the two of you.
and if you don't feel like going out, but you want a nice meal, he'll hire a chef for the evening. one that specializes in whatever type of food you want
dazai's not the best cook, but he’ll do often, just because it makes you happy
he gets so much better over time, though.
whatever you want, he'll make it for you! and if he can't, he'll definitely find someone who can.
but! back to dazai letting you use his account to buy anything.
when you go to any shop associated with the mafia, everything is on the house
bc if the boss is going to funnel money into their pockets, the least they could do is give his girl some gifts !!
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"is this... going to be all for you today, miss?" the cashier said, looking at the stack of clothing skeptically. he rang up price tag after price tag, watching as the numbers grew exponentially on the screen.
you nodded, smiling politely as he read off the total, a number that no average person would be able to spend reasonably in one go.
but dazai said you could get whatever you wanted for your birthday, and you hadn't let yourself indulge in a shopping spree for a while. so you'd picked up anything that suited you nicely and decided not to worry.
"how will you be paying today?"
you handed over the card, and the cashier read the name, glancing up at you with skeptical eyes.
"dazai osamu?"
you smiled sweetly. "it's my boyfriend's card."
though, the name had caught the attention of an older salesman across the room, and he was to the cashier in two swift steps, knocking him on the back of the head.
"dumbass," the older man swiped the card from the cashier before he could swipe the payment. "don't you know who she is?"
it took the man three more times of reading dazai's name across the plastic for it to click.
"i'm so sorry," he said, wide eyes suddenly anxious. "i had no idea you were—"
"it's okay. don't worry." you smiled, shrugging. "i won't tell him."
you meant it as a joke, but that only seemed to make the younger cashier more nervous.
"we'll take care of everything for you." the elderly salesman said, holding out the card to return it. "it's on us."
"really?" you pinched your eyebrows together, concerned. the bill was steep. it seemed unfair to let them take such a hit to profits. "at least let me pay for some of it.”
"no, don't worry about it. the boss said it was your birthday, so whatever you want, its yours."
for a moment, you weren't sure what to say. though, realizing that this store was just one of the many in yokohama that partnerned with dazai, you finally succumbed to a smile, and accepted their kindness.
you took dazai's card back and slipped it into your purse. "thank you so much.” you said sincerely, turning to leave with a small wave as you gathered up the bags and bags of clothes. "it was nice to meet you. i'll come back soon!"
though they said nothing, they both stared back at you with wide eyes, as most people did when they found out you were the one that had captured dazai's heart.
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when dazai finds out how much you love to read, he clears out an entire floor of the port mafia headquarters to make you a library
its done far too elaborately, with classical decorations, a very intricate chandelier, and a view that looks over the entire city
there are special editions, original copies of your favorite books, books in languages you can't even read and so on
he went a little overboard, but he was just so excited to show you :(
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"osamu." you stare, blinking at the vast room, not really sure what to say other than his name.
"what?" he's pouting instantly, wondering if he made a mistake, and you didn't like to read as much as he thought. "do you not like it?"
you don't think your heart has ever felt so full before, and you manage a shaky smile, wondering how it didn't split your face in two. "this is too much. you did all this for me?"
and he seems surprised you would even ask such a silly question, because why wouldn't he give you something you've always wanted? "if it makes you feel better, i'll tell you i did it for myself."
you laugh, and then you're launching yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. you nearly cry, because even though he spoils you far too much, this is the most thoughtful gift you've ever received.
"thank you." you whisper, kissing him all over his face, and he smiles, his cheeks warm from your affection.
dazai leads you to a shelf after that, pointing out a few novels that have his name scribbled in the front cover, all with varying states of penmanship.
he's collected all his favorite books there for you, hopeful you'll read them first.
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dazai places you next to him in every mafia meeting
if you're going to be his partner, you're also going to be his equal <3
and he knows that you can keep everyone in the mafia in line. he trusts you to be in charge when he's not there
bc everyone in the mafia likes you more than dazai anyway! (except maybe akutagawa)
and yes, dazai is the sweetest to you <3 but certainly not to everyone else
he disposes of people that bother you... far too quickly
the man at the store made you uncomfortable? he doesn't live in the city anymore. someone was too handsy? they'll lose a few fingers.
but if someone in the mafia says even one unkind word to you, you'll never see them again.
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"sweetheart, what's wrong?"
you sniffed, wiping the tears from your eyes as his hands snuck around your waist. he pulled you closer towards him, sliding next to you on the bed.
"it's nothing." you swallowed, but your eyes were still glassy no matter how hard you tried to stop crying. "i shouldn't get so worked up about things people say."
"hey," he coaxed your hands away from your face, tilting your chin up. "if it's upsetting you, it's a big deal to me, my love."
you said nothing for a moment, but dazai remained patient, smiling softly at you as he stroked your cheek.
never able to resist the gentleness that he showered only you in, you sighed. "some people just said…” you trailed off, almost not wanting to tell him. it seemed embarrassing, in some way, to say something lewd about yourself, even if you were merely repeating the words.
“said what?”
you chewed the inside of your lip before sighing, knowing dazai wouldn’t let the issue rest until you told him.
“they just said that you only kept me around to fuck me.” you dropped your gaze to your hands for a moment, letting them rest limply in your lap. “that i was just some stupid bitch you’d leave behind soon.”
you watched the smile slowly fall from his lips, his eyes hardening with a fury that wasn't directed at you.
"you know that's not true." he held your hands tightly, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. "tell me that you know that."
you managed something of a smile. "i know. i really do know how much you love me. doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt my feelings.”
he nodded, somewhat satisfied as the cloudiness began to clear from your face. "who was it? if you don't know they're name, just describe them." his expression was icy, dangerous, even if his hands were soft.
"osamu, i told you it doesn't matter—" you frowned, looking away before he interrupted.
“it does fucking matter." his words came out sharp. "those men work for me, and i'm not going to let them treat you like that. they've got no business being here if they can't respect you."
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at the end of the day, dazai's reputation remains very much intact. he will always be feared in the city, despite exposing himself as a man who's so so in love
but everyone in the mafia is secretly pleased to see him a little happier, even if its just around you.
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Self Love Is Hard.
Lucifer Morningstar x Fem Reader     
CW: Angst, Negative Body Image, Fluff, Self-Harm Mention.     
Synopsis: You would think that when the King of Hell himself chose you as his love, that any doubts you had about yourself would vanish... but one night the thoughts rear its ugly head once more.   Word Count: 3,481
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The night was unusually quiet in the hotel. Most mornings were left with redemption exercises that Charlie had planned with the staff and guests, while the night most people stuck together having fun. Usually, you would be with Lucifer in his workshop, reading in your chair while he worked on his little duck creations. Music would be playing on the radio that Alastor had given you that you begged Lucifer to let you keep. You usually looked forward to most nights knowing it would just be you and Lucifer together, though quiet, enjoying each other's company.     
Tonight, though it was different, Lucifer was still in the Greed ring dealing with Mammon's temper tantrum over the loss of Fizzarolli, and Lucifer had to deal with the consequences of it. You knew Mammon's temper was one that Lucifer didn't want to deal with, but you had convinced him to go after Ozzie texted you about the ordeal.     
Staring at your phone, you scrolled through the messages to Lucifer with a frown.     
12:51pm: How is it going with Mammon?     
No response     
5:22pm: Alastor found a cat today, Charlie decided to keep it as a hotel pet!     
No response     
8:07pm: Any idea when you're going to be back tonight?     
Seen     
Lucifer hadn't been responding all day, and though you knew it was because he was dealing with his duties, you couldn't help but feel a bit saddened by it. Usually, he would respond with a witty comeback about how Mammon was an asshole or make a snide remark about Alastor. Instead, though you were met with the word 'Seen' at the end of your last message that was sent hours ago. It was now rounding to eleven thirty at night, and you had thought he would be back by now.     
Most of his meetings didn't last this long, you know from past meetings, what if this time something had gone wrong? What if he got hurt in the Greed ring? Could he get hurt? That thought never crossed your mind as you never seen this man injured before. He was the most powerful being in all of Hell, could he truly be hurt? If he was... especially in Greed what would happen? You knew there was a place called Ransom, would they try to take him there? Sell him off to Charlie for a huge fee?!     
All those thoughts ended quickly as your phone dinged to life indicating you got a message. Quickly, you sat up opening the message app seeing it was a message from Lucifer.     
Luci-Love: Sorry duckling, Ozzie asked me to join him in Lust for a few drinks and to catch up. I'll be home later tonight.      
You read the message, your frown deepening as you typed out a message and deleted it a few times. Your mind was beginning to race as to what he would be doing in Lust. You knew of the Succubuses that had tried to get with him last time you and him went to Lust together. It was for an anniversary dinner a few months back.     
~ ~ ~ ~ ~     
"That woman over there won't stop ogling you." You huffed as you took a sip of your red wine glaring daggers to the woman staring at Lucifer. Ever since you two entered Lust, you could feel their stares at your boyfriend, feel the way their jealousy grew as Lucifer had pulled you closer to him. You weren't usually one to be jealous, but you couldn't help but feel that envy tug in your chest. The demons of Lust were quite beautiful, sexy even if you were honest, so the fact that they were making heart eyes to the man you were with annoyed you.     
"And that man won't stop staring at me either, but you don't seem to mind that." Lucifer smirked puffing his chest out as he knew he was being stared at by so many. Why wouldn't they want to stare at the King of Hell, he was a sight to behold! Especially tonight with the way he was dressed. Instead of his usual royal garb of his white suit, he was in a deep red tuxedo with black trims. His usual white top hat, left at home for the evening, leaving his blond locks styled perfectly back.     
You cocked an eyebrow to him as he looked at you with a slight smirk on his lips before you felt him take your hands from across the table you sat at. He gave them a gentle squeeze looking into your eyes. "But darling, my eyes are on only you." He hummed, pulling your hand up to his mouth giving your knuckles a gentle kiss.     
The simple gesture helped to calm your jealous rage down for the moment, not wanting to ruin your anniversary with him. Though the nagging feeling in your chest didn't waver as the waitress flirted with Lucifer, and he seemed to flirt back. He later explained he was simply being nice and didn't hesitate to show you just who he devoted himself to that night.     
~ ~ ~ ~ ~      
That nagging feeling was back in your chest as you remembered the Lust ring. A thought tickling the back of your head wondering how many demons were trying their hand at being with Lucifer since you weren't there. How many imps were throwing themselves at him? You knew that Lucifer was loyal, but you couldn't help the doubt that creeped in through the silence.     
With a groan, you set your phone down rubbing your face with your hands. You could feel your mind slowly slipping as you imagined what the women who were fawning over Lucifer probably looked like. Gorgeous tall women no doubt with thin waists and bigger assets that would tempt the weak. You knew your body was nothing compared to theirs. You were barely even average in your eyes.     
'What does Lucifer even see in me?' Your mind wandered as you moved off the bed, your bare feet hitting the cold wooden floor of your shared bedroom. You slipped your feet into Lucifer's duck slippers as you grabbed the robe off the headboard and wrapped it around yourself.     
You slowly walked towards the bathroom wanting to splash some water on your face. Lose the thoughts that were beginning to eat away at you. Before meeting Lucifer, you struggled to love yourself. You couldn't see what he did, how he seemed to worship your body and love every inch of you. How he was always enamored by your apparent beauty that you struggled to see yourself.     
Though through the past almost two years of being with him, he has made you feel beautiful. He reminded you daily how much he adored you and loved you. How you were the only woman he ever wanted to see.      
'If that's true, then why wouldn't he just come home? Why go to Lust?' The thought filled your head as you walked into the bathroom flipping the light on. Your eyes went to the mirror and stared over yourself. Your hand tracing your cheeks that seemed too puffy, your fingers tracing your jaw that seemed to jut out too much. Your eyes watched your movements, seeming so dull as they looked lower. Even with the robe on, your eyes were able to pick out the stomach rolls.      
Instinctively, you looked down at your stomach, and sucked it in the best you could. It wasn't enough. You could still see your stomach jutting out, mocking you. Your hands grabbed at the extra flesh that was there, squeezing at it as your vision blurred with tears. The women in Lust didn't have this pudge, they didn't have this extra weight around their waists. They didn't have to worry about how their bodies looked in clothes. They didn't have to worry about making sure their skin was fully covered to hide away the stretch marks like you did.    
You wished you could just cut the extra flesh off, just grab the scissors that laid in the bathroom drawer and chop away the fat that you were so easily able to grab.     
Your hands were shaking now as you looked back to the mirror in front of you, watching your tears roll off your round cheeks. Even your tears were hideous. How did other people cry and not look as awful as you did right now. The longer you stared at yourself in the mirror, the more the tears seemed to blur your vision.     
'Hideous beast, he pities you.' That same nagging voice mocked you in the back of your mind. That had to be it, Lucifer only felt pity for you... was only keeping you around till someone better came along or came back. Your mind drifting to Lilith now, the woman who left Lucifer all those years ago.     
You had seen images of her, she was breathtaking. Tall, thin and gorgeous with long blonde hair. She radiated beauty. Lucifer and her had been married for eons before you two met, did he still miss her? Did he still find her more beautiful than you?    
The phone buzzed from the other room indicating you had a new message which snapped you out of your thoughts, even for a moment. With a deep inhale, you left the bathroom, forgetting why you even went in there in the first place as you walked to the bed grabbing your phone. You were expecting it to be Lucifer, saying he would be home soon. Instead, though, it was just Charlie texting the hotel group chat with a new idea for tomorrow's lesson.    
With a quick grunt, you threw your phone across the room watching it slam against the wall by a photo of you and Lucifer. It was a photo of the two of you sitting in a garden together, you are laying across his lap happily giggling at whatever he had been saying at the time. The look in both of your gazes was filled with nothing but love and admiration. The longer you stared at the photo though, the more you were nitpicking each imperfection you saw.   
Your hair was too frizzy, your face was too round, the way you were squinting gave you what seemed to be crow lines.    
As you stared, your eyes moved to the photo on the dresser. It was a smaller framed photo of Lucifer with Charlie and Lilith. He had offered to get rid of it, but you thought it was a sweet memento for him to have. At the time you at least thought so, but now as you walked up to it and lifted the photo you stared at the other woman in the frame. How did Lucifer go from someone like her, to someone like you? It didn't make sense to you.    
As time passed, your mind continued down the dark path of self-hatred and you found yourself sitting on the bedroom floor, your robe long lost leaving you in just your pajama shorts and tank top. In front of you was a broken mirror, shattered after you punched your own reflection. It was obvious that you should clean your bleeding fist, but you couldn't bring yourself to. Maybe you should at least clean the broken mirror before Lucifer comes home. The idea of even moving, though it seemed too much to do, all that seemed to help was sitting on the plush carpet, hugging your legs as you stared at the broken reflection now.   
The sound of whirring seemed to snap you out of your thoughts as your eyes looked up seeing the gold and red portal appearing in the room. Through the portal, you saw the purple blue sky of the Lust ring and heard people laughing and having fun. Then, coming into view was Lucifer wearing his usual white and red clothes, except his jacket hung around his arm, and his sleeves were rolled up. The buttons of his white and red pinstripe vest were undone as well, revealing the white undershirt he wore.   
After a moment the portal closed, and the room returned to the darkness it had been for the past hour or so as you sulked in the corner.    
"Darling, are you awake?" Lucifer asked as he set his coat down on the chair. He didn't notice you weren't in bed yet. He didn't see the broken mirror that you cursed yourself for not cleaning up. Nor did he see you in all your broken glory, eyes red and puffy from crying. Your eyes watched his movements as he moved to the bed only to notice you weren't there. "Darling?" His voice called out till his eyes finally found you.  
In an instant, the lights to the bedroom snapped on as he looked at you, his vermilion eyes filling with fright. He took in the scene of the broken mirror in front of you, staring at the broken shards on the floor. His eyes then moved to your body that was trembling, hugging yourself with a bloodied fist. Then his eyes met yours, and the fright filled with a deep sadness as he finally noticed how miserable you looked.  
"Oh darling..." He whispered as he walked over to you kneeling taking your hands into his. He examined the wound on your hand, noting the tiny shards of glass that glistened in the blood. He looked upset seeing the injury you had caused yourself, his mind wondering what made you do this.  
For the first time in hours, you finally spoke, your voice cracking as you did from disuse "I-I'm sorry." You were sorry now, regretting how you felt, regretting all the thoughts you had knowing this was upsetting Lucifer now. You acted reckless, in your emotions, and now after a long day, Lucifer had to see you wallowing in your pity.   
His eyes moved from your hands to your eyes as you spoke. One of his hands tenderly reaching out to cup your cheek to comfort you while the other still held your injured hand, cradling it in his own. "Let's get you cleaned up yeah?" He spoke so gently, as though if he was too loud, you'd break once more. He was obviously concerned about the injury, wanting to make sure it was dealt with before he found out what happened.  
You didn't fight him as he helped you to your feet, all the energy you had at this point was focused on not crying once again at how soft he was being with you. You didn't fight as he took you into the bathroom, nor as he guided you to sit on the edge of the bathtub. The cold porcelain of the tub seems to help ground you from the spiraling thoughts in your mind.   
Lucifer gently let your hand go as he began searching the cabinet for the first aid kit, muttering under his breath about how it seemed to have grown legs and moved. "Other... Cabinet" you told him, pointing with your good hand at the other cabinet door that he hadn't checked. He glanced over at you with a thankful smile before he grabbed the first aid kit from the other cupboard and sat beside you on the bathtub.  
He was gentle as he picked the glass out with tweezers, and careful as he applied the antiseptic onto the wound cleaning it out. The silence of the whole procedure was eating away at you, worried about what he was thinking. He probably thought you were a mess; he probably was annoyed that he had to deal with your mistakes. The fear of him leaving you poking at your mind as tears began to prick at your eyes.  
Once your hand was properly cleaned and wrapped, Lucifer brought your hand to his lips, and gave it a gentle kiss. His deep red eyes staring into your own, and those thoughts faded immediately. He didn't look angry or annoyed like you were thinking, instead, his eyes were filled with love and care. Just like in the bedroom, he brought his other hand to your face, wiping away the tear that had escaped your eyes with his thumb gliding across your cheek.  
"What's wrong Dove?" He spoke so softly still, calling you by your favorite nickname he had given you. "What happened to the mirror in the bedroom?"  
Your gaze finally broke from his as you looked away, looking anywhere else than his eyes. How do you explain to someone who loves you so much, that you doubted that love? How do you explain to someone who reminds you of your beauty daily, that you hated your body? The words seemed to be stuck in your throat, but Lucifer waited, he didn't push as the silence festered between both of you.  
The man before you simply kept his hand on your cheek providing a subtle comfort as his thumb continued to caress at your tears wiping them away with each swipe. You couldn't speak still, instead moving your hand to your cheek, holding his. His smile was sad, worried about what was eating away at your mind. 
"Speak to me Dove... What is hurting you so badly?" He finally pressed the issue after you didn't answer his first questions. All he wanted to know was what was causing you so much grief, so much pain to have you shatter the floor length mirror in your shared bedroom.  
When he left this morning, you were happy. You both had shared a tender moment wrapped in each other's arms before he left to go deal with Mammon. Now though, you were like a hallow shell of yourself, and from the damage from the mirror, Lucifer had an inkling of an idea as to why. 
This wasn't the first time you spiraled in your relationship together. He has comforted you just as much as you had comforted him in the time you two were together. He knew firsthand just how bad your mind could be to yourself. The nights where he hugged your crying form for hours proved that. Though he has never seen you this bad before. Just how long had you been alone with your thoughts?  
The silence seemed to just grow more between you two, before finally, the tension in your throat keeping you from talking seemed to loosen. With a shaky inhale of breath, you looked at his eyes which stared at yours still waiting for an answer.  
"Why me?" You began, your hand leaving his that was still against your cheek and instead fidgeted in your lap as your eyes left his. "There are so many other women out there who are far better suited for you..." That tight knot was back gripping your throat once more making it hard to speak, but you pushed through. "S-so many more women wh-who are more beautiful. M-more appealing, More-"  
Your voice was cut off as Lucifer's lips pressed against yours gently silencing you immediately. After a moment he pulled back, his other hand now coming to hold your other cheek. 
"My love, there is no one in either Heaven nor in Hell whose beauty can outweigh your own. Even if there was, you are the only woman I desire." He spoke slowly and quietly, staring deep into your own eyes. One of his hands moved and took yours, pressing it against his chest. "My heart beats for you, and for you alone." His other hand moved and took your injured hand tenderly, bringing it to his mouth kissing it once more.  
These are words you have heard him say before, words uttered during past spirals. Words he would remind you of every chance he could, no matter how much you couldn't believe them yourself. You knew he was being genuine each time, his eyes holding no falsehoods, his voice never faltering as he spoke. It was the truth, and you never understood just why.  
"You are the one I want to spend eternity with no matter the cost. The one who holds my heart in such tangles. I thought when I fell from Heaven, that would be the last time I ever fell. Then you stumbled into my life, and I fell even harder, and I do every single day. It's because you mean so much to me my little dove." He went on, taking the hand against his chest, and brought it up to his lips as well, kissing both of your hands. 
The tears in your eyes now weren't from the pain you felt anymore, but from his words. Your partner was perfect in your eyes, always knowing the right things to say, the right movements to do. He knew the words that you needed to hear, and didn't hesitate to let you know every thought.  
Without another word you leapt at him, wrapping your arms around his chest, knocking the two of you into the bathtub. The dam broke as he in turn wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. You wept in his arms, burying your face in his shoulder. Lucifer’s hand brushed through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp to comfort you silently, letting you release the emotions you were dealing with.    How foolish you had been to let your thoughts get the better of you. How foolish you were to doubt the love this man had for you. You knew deep down you didn’t deserve him, yet he would beg to differ and would deny those thoughts of yours. He would even counter that he didn’t deserve you. When he fell from Heaven, he didn’t think he would be deserving of such love as yours’s, yet you love him day in and day out by choice, and he didn't think he deserved it either.    After some time had passed, you had finally calmed down in his arms. Lucifer's hand not leaving your head as he continued to caress your hair, placing a soft kiss on your temple. Your tears finally had dried up, or well dried more so on Lucifer's red and white vest. Lucifer took the time to sit you both up in the bathtub, having you sit on his lap with one more kiss to your forehead. "Let's not go punching mirrors anymore, okay? If you need an outlet for that rage, we can ask Satan for some pointers." He joked as he stood up lifting you with him in his arms, carrying you as though you were weightless. You couldn't help but choke out a laugh nodding as you laid your head against his shoulder. "I learned my lesson... Mirrors fucking hurt." You responded as he carried you into the bedroom. You both would be okay, even if some days are harder than the other, you both had each other to help soften the blow of those hatred filled thoughts. Even if self love was sometimes hard, you knew that even if you couldn't love yourself, Lucifer had enough love to give you in replace of it.
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woso-dreamzzz · 1 month
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Miracle
Aitana Bonmatí x Baby!Reader
Summary: You're a miracle
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Aitana didn't take days off.
That was something Keira knew.
Aitana refused to take days off even when she was sick and injured. She always arrives ready and willing to train even though everyone knows that she'd just be sent home.
It's why this past week has been strange.
Aitana didn't come into training once. There was no hide or hair of the girl. Her phone immediately went to voicemail. The lights in her house were always off.
If there weren't still Bonmatí shirts in the kit room then Keira could almost believe Aitana never existed.
It was strange and off putting, especially because whenever she asked, Jona would respond that Aitana was off for personal reasons.
None of it made any sense until all of a sudden it did.
Keira was running later, tripping over her own feet as she hurries out of her car. She slams the door shut as she hefts her training bag over her shoulder.
The sound of another door slamming shut shocks her and she whips her head up to see which of her teammates would be having to run laps with her.
She spots Aitana though.
Aitana who is juggling three different bags and a baby.
"Aitana?" Keira asks," Are you okay?"
Aitana looks half to tears as one of the bags fall. She shakes her head.
"I've got it," Keira says," Come on. Let's get you inside."
Aitana doesn't speak as they both make their way to the empty locker room. She doesn't really do anything apart from occasionally holding you closer, breathing in your soft baby smell and pulling back with tears in her eyes.
"So..." Keira feels awkward. This wasn't how she thought her day would be going. "Are you babysitting?"
Aitana's bottom lip wobbles as she glances at you, shaking her head and Keira doesn't push about it anymore.
"Are you training today?" She asks instead," Or is this just a visit?"
"Training." It's the first word Aitana's said to her all morning and Keira counts it as a small victory.
Her friend looks distraught but you seem fairly happy on her hip.
You're sucking on your fingers and looking around, eyes wide as you garble out half words and sounds. Your happy smiling face changes though when you notice Aitana isn't smiling.
Your whole face scrunches up and you recklessly lean towards her to press what is more an open-mouthed breath than an actual kiss to her cheek.
That causes the tiniest of smiles to appear on Aitana's face. "Sí, thank you, estrella."
You giggle, kicking your little legs as Aitana moves to exit the locker room, Keira hurrying to trail behind.
Jona welcomes them both warmly and seems to forget Keira being late in exchange for greeting you.
"If you still need time," He says to Aitana," Then you're welcome to take more time off."
"No," Aitana says," I need to be back on the pitch. I...We need normalcy. The books said I need to establish a routine."
"If you need help-"
"Jona, I'll be fine."
"Of course you will but you're not alone in this. I'll help. Irene will help. You only need to ask."
"I know."
There's already a space made up for you in the shade. Aitana doesn't question who brought out the playpen to keep you enclosed but she's thankful regardless.
You'd just begun to learn how to get around by rolling and she doesn't want to have to keep one eye on you for the whole of training.
She doesn't have to do it but she finds herself doing it anyway, like she can't bare to be separated from you.
"Hey," Irene says during a little break," I heard what happened."
"From Jona?" Aitana can't help be annoyed. Jona shouldn't be airing out her personal business to anyone.
"Alexia, actually," Irene says," She said you might need some help."
"I don't need help!" Aitana snaps, fists clenched at her side," It's not the first time I've had her! I can cope!"
"Babysitting is different from being her mother."
"I'm not her mother!" Aitana insists," Her parents are going to wake up! They are!"
Paredes look tells Aitana that she thinks it's unlikely and Aitana regrets ever informing the club about what had happened. She should have known they would tell Alexia who, trying to be the ever-helpful captain, would pass on the knowledge to whoever she felt could offer the most support.
Of course, she went to Paredes, the ever-experienced mother of the group. She could have easily gone to Marta too but with her working out how to introduce Caro to her Conejita, she would be too preoccupied to offer help.
"Aitana-"
"Thank you for the offer," Aitana says through gritted teeth," But I don't need it."
She storms off then, turning on her heel. She barges past Alexia who was hovering nearby, intent on giving her a piece of her mind.
Her mouth is already open to hurl an out of character insult at her captain when she catches onto your wailing. It seems you're a bit out of character too today.
You'd slept horribly last night and the night before. You didn't eat well this morning either and you had cried all through the car journey to training. The happiest you'd been was in the locker room with Keira.
Aitana knew it wouldn't last.
But she couldn't work out what was wrong with you. You're weren't hungry. You didn't need a change. You weren't hurt.
You were just sobbing when she picks you up, hiding your face in her neck and wiping your runny nose with her training top.
"What's wrong, estrella?" She coos," What's wrong? What's happened?"
You sniffle a few more times. "Ta-Ta."
"Hmm." Aitana runs a soft hand over your hair. "You just wanted me, huh?"
"Ta-Ta."
"I understand." She sways you side to side until your sobs have turned into little hiccups of emotion and you're looking up at her with wide, teary eyes.
"Just Estrella and her Ta-Ta," She coos," This is very different, isn't it?"
Aitana sits down on the grass, digging around in one of the bags she brought for your bottle. Your parents had begun to try to wean you but the past week has been so stressful already and she doesn't want to do more to unsettle you.
You suckle aimlessly, one of your hands moving to cover the one of Aitana's that's holding your bottle.
She stares ahead as a familiar face sits down next to her.
By now, she knows that her strange behaviour has spread all over the team. Paredes and Alexia both hover uncertainly nearby like they want to offer help again but don't want to wind her up further.
Across the pitch, Aitana can spot Marta and her Conejita doing arts and crafts together.
It sends a stabbing pain into her chest and the words spill out of her mouth before Keira can even ask.
"She's not mine. I mean, she is but not really."
"Aitana, I don't understand."
"Her parents...my friends..." Her throat closes up. "I was babysitting last week for date night and they...A drunk driver hit them."
"I'm sorry. Are they-?"
Aitana shakes her head. "They're in comas. They put me down as Estrella's guardian. I...They...I'm trying my best."
"I'm sure you are. You must love her a lot."
"She's mine," Aitana chokes out," Biologically. She's mine. They-They couldn't get pregnant and I offered to donate an egg and we agreed I'd be fun Tia Ta-Ta..."
"Oh, Aitana..."
The tears are running down her cheeks now and she's can't stop them.
"They were going to have date night with her last week. They said that they'd find something baby friendly but I insisted. It was so close. She could have...Keira, she could have died."
Keira glances at you. You're so comfortable in Aitana's arms and, now that she's really looking, she can see the similarities between the both of you.
You both have the same crying face.
"But she didn't," Keira says," You were looking after her, Aitana. You had her. You kept her safe."
"Ta-Ta?" Your tone is questioning and your little pudgy hands come up to touch her cheeks.
"I'm fine, estrella," She says to you as her phone rings. She already knows who is calling. Somehow, she already knows what they're going to tell her. "Why don't you hang out with your fun Tia Keira? I'll be back in a second."
"Ta-Ta!" You whine as you're shuffled from Aitana to Keira.
"Just a minute. Then it's Ta-Ta and Estrella time."
As she answers the phone, Aitana knows that's it's going to be Ta-Ta and Estrella time forever now.
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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Sending naughty pics to BLLK team?
There was a Chigiri ask for this but I also saw this one so I'll answer them both in this one ask.
Pairing: Yoichi Isagi, Bachira Meguru, Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi, Hyoma Chigiri, Kunigami Rensuke, Mikage Reo, Nagi Seishiro x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, established relationship, nudes, flirting over text, mutual masturbation, phone sex
A/N: I know there are a lot of horror stories in regards to nudes but none of that will be in here don't worry.
Isagi always has his phone in his pocket so he knows the exact moment when you send him something. Now he has gotten photos of you naked before so he knows to check it in private. He once got your pic in the middle of getting ready for a game and had to go take a very fast and cold shower in order to be able to play properly.
Bachira has his cock ready in his hand the moment his you message him that you bought some pretty, new lingerie. He knows that pics are coming next, and oh boy. He already knows he's gonna be making a mess, but why do it all by himself when you can have fun together? And of course you trade pictures when it's done to show the results.
Sae has a special alert on his phone when you call, text or send him pictures. He never opens pictures in public because he always feels like there's someone watching over his shoulder. He would much rather be with you in person but nudes are a good alternative for you two when he's out traveling. And audio too sometimes.
Rin doesn't always see them right away, he rarely ever checks his phone while he's practicing. Usually he checks it afterwards because if you send him pictures of you naked or doing something lewd, well he's gonna take a shower anyways, might as well make it a longer and colder one.
Chigiri sees the photo as soon as you send it but doesn't respond until he's sure he's alone. Gives you a call, telling you how pretty you look on his bed like that. You're already touching yourself to him, and he is clearly, and loudly moaning and grunting from jerking off, all of it in the Team locker room because he can't help himself.
Kunigami was the one who started this by sending you pictures of himself flexing, straight of the shower and with only a towel around his hips. He didn't expect you to respond with a nude and was pretty flabbergasted. Couldn't deny the effect it had on his cock. He called you right away to get your pretty ass over here and help him with it.
Reo doesn't exactly get a nude from you but instead something much better, you wearing nothing but his jersey, your nipples hard and your cunt clearly wet. He doesn't want you take it off, he wants you to fuck yourself with it on, he's imagining it while pumping his cock, barely able to wait until he gets home and spreads your legs.
Nagi likes getting those kinds of photos in the morning more then at any other time of day. They wake him right up, his cock even harder then it was from his wet dream. It's even better if you're willing to text or be on the call with him while he's masturbating, so that he's able to hear you're pretty voice as he reaches his peak.
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nicksolemnlyswears · 6 months
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WELCOME HOME
MASTERLIST
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pairing: opla!mihawk x reader
word count: 3.2k
warnings: 18+, swearing, smut, slight knife play, oral (female receiving), p in v, slight breeding kink
a/n: i got carried away with the fluff at the end. as much as i love smut i also love some domestic ass fluff which is very clear here lol.
i started this a while ago but got busy and only managed to finish it today! next up i’ve got buggy. i actually have two ideas for him. both have smut but the premise is so different lol. let’s just say one has a prominent daddy kink.
this might be very ooc! mihawk, again i’ve only watched the live action. i would like to start the anime but those 1,000 episodes are intimidating to say the least.
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Working for the Marines proved to be useful for Mihawk. His bounty was canceled, and he got to travel and get up to shenanigans that would otherwise bring him trouble.
Mihawk gets to strike pirate after pirate, which benefits him greatly. It gives him the opportunity to search for the one meant to surpass him while getting paid. No one has come close to beating him yet.
After another tedious mission, Mihawk returns home. He opens the grand doors of his castle and leaves his hat and coat by the door. He silently goes deep into the castle and into his bedroom, unhooking Yoru from his back and placing it by the bed.
He removes his boots and pants while keeping his eyes on the figure sprawled on the bed. His dear wife sleeps peacefully on her stomach, her hair casting a halo on the white pillows.
He tries his hardest not to wake you, but you groggily open your eyes as he lays on the bed. He stares back at you apologetically, kissing the back of your head.
"You're back," you sigh, closing your eyes again. Your muscles relax when you see it's your husband who has returned from his latest mission.
Normally, you'd greet him much more enthusiastically. However, the sky outside is still a deep shade of blue, the stars twinkling brightly to shine some light on the otherwise dark room. And you have had a long, exhausting day that is pulling you back to sleep.
"Just got back," he responds softly. His eyes trace over your exposed figure. It's a warm summer night if the sheets crumpled by the end of the bed are any indication.
He was away longer than he expected. It's times like these that he resents his agreement with the Marines. He will resent anything that keeps you away from him. He would take you with him if your circumstances were different, but it's too dangerous. 
You suddenly feel his touch on your back, but pay him no mind as sleep threatens to take you away once more. Mihawk traces your exposed skin with his small blade Kogatana. He likes seeing two of his priced possessions in his grasp.
He'd never dare cut you with it. That's reserved for his enemies. Enemies who would be scared by the mere sight of Mihawk, but you simply melt under his gaze without a worry in the world. The touch of the cold blade familiar and comforting.
"Don't you dare cut through my clothes again, Mihawk," you suddenly threaten when he glides the blade over your night dress. You might be safe from the sharpness of his blades, but your clothes never are.
"Or what?" he asks, lifting your silky nightgown with the blade. Just a bit more tension, and it will cut through the fabric. There's an unmistakable smile on his handsome face.
"Fuck around and find out," you groan, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. Deep down, you know you're not getting any rest anytime soon. Mihawk is clearly in a particular mood.
"Is this how you receive me? With empty threats?" Mihawk teases you. He follows it with a "Tsk, I expected more from you."
"My love, it's four in the morning. My brain isn't working properly, but rest assured it'll come up with something by morning," you huff, burying your face on the pillow.
"I'm dying to find out what you come up with. In the meantime, I'll fuck around." Mihawk says with a tone that warns you he's up to no good.
In an instant, you hear the blade ripping through the material of your nightgown. The cut is clean and precise, exposing your skin to the room's humid air.
"Mihawk!" You groan, annoyed but far from surprised. Another piece of clothing ruined by Kogatana. Add it to the tally.
"Screaming my name already? I've barely touched you," Mihawk chuckles, amused at his joke. He traces his lips down your spine, pressing kisses along the curve of your back.
"Idiot…" you mumble with a small grin. You prop yourself up on your elbows, still on your stomach, looking at your husband over your shoulder.
"All yours, darling," he responds cheekily, biting down on your exposed ass cheek.
"Hey!" You giggle, wiggling under his hold. Mihawk pins you down with his body as he comes back up.
Mihawk brushes your hair over one of your shoulders to dig his head into the crook of your neck, kissing your pulse point. You smile at this, having missed his touch like the familiar scrape of his beard on your skin.
Mihawk gives you enough space to turn around in his grasp. You cup his face and say, "I missed you. A few more days and I would've gone out in search of you." Your thumbs mindlessly rub over his jaw. No matter how much he cuts through your clothes, you love him.
Your actions bring him comfort as he leans into your touch, "My apologies. Will you allow me to make it up to you?"
You pretend to think as he stares you down. His gaze is soft and loving and filled with playfulness. Playfulness that is reserved only for you. "It's the least you can do," you finally respond, touching his lips.
Mihawk closes the gap in an instant, kissing you senseless. He groans into the kiss as he deepens it, his tongue swiping your lips to gain entrance. He grabs your thigh, wrapping it around his waist to have you closer.
Your arms wrap around his back, scratching his skin with your nails as you pull yourself closer. Mihawk's hand comes up to your chest, pulling on the tattered fabric of your nightgown, successfully throwing it somewhere in the room.
"Don't forget you owe me another nightgown," you breathe as Mihawk kisses down your body.
"And a blouse, a skirt, a dress, and many the undergarments. But who is keeping track?" Mihawk says. He's settled between your thighs, placing open-mouthed kisses down your soft stomach.
You prop yourself up to watch him delve lower and lower down your body. He searches for your gaze when he reaches your mound, where he places a small kiss. "I'd much prefer you sleep naked. We can sleep skin to skin."
You smile and shake your head at him, biting your lip in anticipation. "What of the nights you're gone?" You ask, raising an eyebrow.
Mihawk's strong hands grasp your thighs, pulling them open. Maintaining eye contact, he traces his lips over the inside of your thighs, not quite kissing them. His facial hair tickles you and leaves goosebumps in its wake.
Not one to lose an argument, he responds, "More of a reason to stay naked. Makes it easier to touch yourself while you think of me," he purrs. You feel his breath where you need him most.
As you open your mouth to reply with a snarky comment, Mihawk takes his chance. His tongue licks up your slit, tasting you for the first time in weeks.
"Ohh."
Mihawk eats you out like a starved man lost at sea for months. His tongue licks and flicks over your clit repeatedly as his lips wrap around it to suck. You fall back on the bed with your fingers digging into his curls, pulling on them. It only spurs him on as his hips involuntarily thrust into the mattress. Pleasing you turns him on.
"I missed this cunt," he lewdly moans as he kisses the inside of your thigh, lightly biting the area.
"Mihawk," you whine, turning red-faced by his crude words.
He mimics your tone, saying your name. Your ankle digs into his back in response. He's far from hurt as he laughs into your thigh. Having had a taste, he slows it down, taking his time. Enjoying everything about you.
He spreads your lips apart, exposing your pink center to him. Strings of arousal cover you, giving your cunt a pretty sheen. You're easily embarrassed by Mihawk's actions, but your whines do nothing to stop him.
"Fucking beautiful," he purrs, thumb circling over your exposed clit.
Your fingers card through his curls, pulling them back to watch his lustful expression. No one has ever made you feel as desired as Mihawk has.
Soft breaths fall from you as you feel Mihawk's warm tongue gather the slick from your entrance. He gets lost in his pleasure as his fingers dig into your thighs. Obscene wet noises coming from his mouth, mixing with the staccato of your moans.
Each flick of his tongue gets you higher and higher, your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure. You whine as you get closer to your peak, small warnings Mihawk doesn't need as he's learned what each of your tells are. He's adamant about making you cum on his tongue.
It's a matter of time until he feels your legs squeezing his head and your hips bucking into him. Your back arching follows soon after as a loud cry escapes your lips.
Mihawk licks his lips, satisfied, as he pulls slightly away from you. The twitching of your cunt is not missed by his hawk eyes. He presses his palm against your center, easing you down from your high.
He crawls back up your body, kissing your nipples on his way up. You swat him away gently, feeling sensitive.
"My beautiful wife," he says once he's face to face. In his eyes, you're the most beautiful woman in the world. Your skin shines prettily with the afterglow of an orgasm.
"What's gotten into you?" You giggle, giving him exactly what he was looking for. Your smile.
"Can't a man miss his wife?" He asks, nudging your cheek with his nose as he sporadically leaves kisses on your face.
He did miss you, but he's also extremely pussydrunk. Going down on you does as much to him as it does to you, judging by the hard on pressing against your lower stomach.
"He can..." You smile, wrapping your arms around him to caress his back. "Just how much did you miss me?"
You feel his laugh in your ear as he catches your suggestive tone. Nonetheless, he whispers, "I missed you like the sun and moon miss each other."
"You're cheesy," you say, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him flush against you. His cock is between the two of you, a bead of pre dripping onto your skin.
"Don't tell anyone. Or else my reputation be ruined." Mihawk says, pressing his forehead against yours.
"It's our secret," you whisper in response with a kiss on his waiting lips.
Hiking your leg further up his body Mihawk lines himself up and pushes his cock into you. You gasp into the kiss as he fills you up until he bottoms out.
He always starts slow. The drag of your walls against his cock is a memory he never wishes to forget. He swears your cunt feels better each time he has the pleasure of being buried inside you.
His thrusts are slow but deep. He keeps a hand on your leg that's hiked up around his waist while he holds himself up with the other. The way you look up at him with wide, pleading eyes is his favorite sight in the whole wide world. Your soft gasps and cries are a symphony of their own, especially mixed with his own.
His slower pace only lasts so long as he gets lost in the way your cunt chokes his cock. He wants more. He needs more.
His resolve quickly disappears as he picks himself up to kneel on the bed. He easily pulls you closer as you slide down the bed with a yelp. His cock always inside of you.
Mihawk presses your legs up to your chest, grabbing a discarded pillow to place under your ass.
"Much better," he mutters as his hips buck against you tentatively.
"Yeah, 'cause you're not the one folded in half," you begin saying as he snaps his hips, which turns into a moan. The new angle brings tears to your eyes. The tip of his cock hitting that spot that makes you see stars.
"Don't deny it. You like when I manhandle you," he gruffs, picking up the pace of his thrusts. He further presses against the back of your thighs as he looks down when you both meet. His cock wet with both of your juices.
"I'm. Not." You pant between each one of his jerks. You leave it at that, closing your eyes to focus on the sparks of pleasure.
This is Mihawk's favorite position just because of the visual standpoint. He's in total control and gets to gauge your body's reactions.
Your scrunched up eyes as you concentrate on following your release. The biting of your lips to try and remain quiet, yet whimpers betray you. Your chest bouncing pulls him into another trance as he watches your skin blushing and your nipples hardening.
Your eyes squint open as you bring your hand down to your lower abdomen, where you say, "Feel you right here, Mihawk."
Mihawk mutters a curse under his breath. He places his hand on top of yours and asks, "Want me to cum right here too, darling?"
His moves become sharper and more precise as he bullies that spot inside you. "yes. yes. yes. Fill me up, my love," you cry out.
It's all becoming too much for you. You bring your arm up to bite on it and muffle your moans, but he still manages to coax out your voice. Your moans remain a secret in the night, heard only by Mihawk.
It's fucking glorious the way your cunt squeezes his cock when you reach your climax. The rhythmic pulses of your high urging him to continue pushing into you. You try to push him away to get him to go slower, your hands only managing to caress his abdomen before he pins them down.
He is in total control. He just needs a bit more from you. You can take it. You've done it before. Your legs shake both in exhaustion and rapture. His pace is steady as he feeds into that feeling that tightens his balls.
His hands turn to lace his fingers through yours. The sound of skin slapping echoed through the room. With hooded eyes, you watch your husband in all his glory. Trickles of sweat fall down his strong chest, and his curls are a mess atop his head. It all makes him look like a work of art.
Once more, the familiar sensation of pure euphoria washes over you, and it's enough to push Mihawk to reach that place as well. He stills inside you, his hands squeezing yours as he empties himself inside you, just like he promised.
With your hands on his hold, he brings them to his lips to kiss your palms. He follows the path down your arm until he buries his head on your shoulder. He lies there, almost crushing you under his weight, breathing you in. You wrap your arms around him, enjoying the closeness and rubbing your hands up and down his muscular back, rubbing the spots with the most tension from carrying Yoru around.
You talk in hushed whispers as you gain back your energy. It's a hard task, considering you were woken up in the middle of the night, and Mihawk probably hasn't slept in more than 24 hours.
Hours later, you feel the hard patter of footsteps nearing your bedroom. You sit up, preparing yourself despite Mihawk's heavy arm threatening to pull you back down into his embrace.
The door to your bedroom is slammed open with a bang barely second after you manage to slip on your robe.
"Wake up, wake up, it's morning!" Your loud, curly-haired boys scream as they run around the room with wooden swords.
"What's all this ruckus about?" Mihawk groans. Both boys freeze, noticing the other figure sitting up on the bed, "Papa!"
"There are my brats," Mihawk huffs as they let the swords clatter to the ground to climb the bed and throw themselves at him, "I missed the two of you," he says, hugging them and kissing their heads.
You stare lovingly at the scene in front of you. The twins were a result of your honeymoon with Mihawk. Fruits of your love, if you will.
The five-year-olds are the spitting image of their father. Kind reminders of him whenever Mihawk has to go out on a mission.
"Missed you too, Papa."
"I want some snuggles, too!" You exclaim, grabbing the twin closest to you and placing him on your lap to kiss and snuggle. He squirms and laughs as you tickle his belly.
The twins celebrate their dad's back as they cling and climb over him. You let them do as they please, considering it has been you who they've clung to for the past couple of weeks.
"Mama is sick," one of them blurts out to Mihawk, causing you to freeze.
"Mhm, Mama called the doctor to make her better!" The other echoes as you pull him to your lap to shush him.
Mihawk narrows his eyes at you as he listens to the twins ramble. You throw him a sheepish smile and quickly look down at your son, brushing his unruly curls to avoid his gaze.
"Well, Papa is home now. I'll take good care of Mama," Mihawk reassures them. "Why don't the two of you go to the kitchen and gather the ingredients for your favorite?'
"Really?" They ask in unison with excited smiles.
"Absolutely," Mihawk says just as excited, ushering the boys out of the room. As soon as they run out, he turns to you with a raised eyebrow, "Not that I'm a doctor, but you didn't seem sick a while ago."
"I didn't?" You ask incredulously, standing from the bed to sit on the vanity.
Mihawk follows you, knowing you're trying to avoid the conversation. He calls your name, kneeling down on the floor by your seat. "Why did you call the doctor?"
You sigh, mustering the courage to tell him the news. You face him as he settles between your legs. He grabs your hand and places a kiss on the back of it, giving you the courage to tell him.
"We're having another baby," you smile at him, squeezing his hand.
"You're happy?" Mihawk is ecstatic, to say the least, but he recognizes how hard your pregnancy with the twins had been. So, he toned it down for the moment.
"I'm happy," you nod, allowing him the joy of having another kid. It's been six years, and you're ready for another baby. Besides, the boys are growing up so fast that they aren't babies anymore.
Mihawk hugs you from his kneeling position, digging his head into your stomach, "You think we'll have a girl?"
"I have my fingers crossed. There's too much testosterone in this castle. One thing is for sure though, it's the last one," you tell him, kissing his head.
"Come on, darling. We have more space for two or three more..."
You roll your eyes at him and gently push him away, reminding him he has two hyperactive boys downstairs waiting for him.
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