Tumgik
#this is why i can't have fluffy things
lilacs-stash · 4 months
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So uh, remarried Nickcase anyone
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braceletofteeth · 1 year
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After Inwoo escapes prison (because of course he does), Dongsik helps the authorities track him down, making it his number one priority and losing sleep over the investigation.
No one tells him that, but he knows, he knows Inwoo is his responsibility, and if anyone can find the infamous predator, it's got to be him.
More than anything, Dongsik needs Inwoo back in his cell, with his location known at all times. Only that can put his mind at rest.
For this, he's willing to go as far as offering himself as bait. At first, watched by the police, but, when it's clear it won't bring the desired result, he ditches security, going around by himself. Any place where he can be alone, with no one to witness a hunter's ambush to an apparently easy prey.
And then he waits.
And waits.
Lies down wide awake at night, waiting, and startles awake at random hours, still waiting, but Inwoo never once comes for him.
Sometimes Dongsik looks around, wondering if he's being observed from somewhere. Looks around, then looks around again. Wonders if he'd feel something different if Inwoo was close. If his senses would give him a hint. If he'd be able to feel Inwoo's presence under his skin, prickling through his veins and bones.
Instead, he only feels a void, a little larger each day, eating him by bits from the inside out, and wonders, too, if he'd know, if he'd be able to tell, had Inwoo ceased to exist.
(When the first of his new victims is identified as Inwoo's work, Dongsik excuses himself, leaving the operation's room and putting as much distance as he can between him and the detectives. He avoids Bokyung's eyes on the way out, walking past the worried hand extended to hold his arm as if a pitying touch now could set his whole body on fire.
The dam breaks as soon as he locks himself inside his car, safe from everyone's inquiring looks. He bends over the wheel and lets the tears fall, struggling to catch a breath. Painfully self-aware, he sees, clear as crystal, the ocean he feels himself drowning in. It's made of liquid shame, and at the bottom of it, there it is—another abstruse feeling, concealed in the dark.
Relief.)
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somelazyassartist · 2 years
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Sorry I've been posting so much about them lately but they're important to me,,,
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starseternelle · 6 months
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i have been waiting years for you. // @nightstriumph
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__________🏹 HIS WORDS ARE QUIET, DRAWLING. she has heard this sentiment before && she sees how his eyes glaze over. he is in another time, another place. cruelty, in every sense of the word, grips his memory now. hybern's acts of war brought upon his person rip open scabbed over wounds from the mountain. he retreats into himself, she sees. when the pain, the torture, the violence come rearing to the forefront of his mind && the safety of home disappears to the ravages of the past. he had once told her that he had visions of her when amarantha's savagery peaked, that he held onto the images of a nameless hand painting to find comfort in a cold world. he believed in her all those years && so she does not falter now, even as the beast beneath his skin threatens to prowl, to reclaim what was lost. he does not scare her, he never will
🏹__________ THOSE HUMAN HANDS THAT HAUNTED HIS SOUL RISE TO HOLD HIS FACE BETWEEN. storm blue gaze meets starry violet && she can almost swear she feels the room contract around them, until there is no sound but their mixed breathing, no other people in the world except the two. heartbound, sworn, mated. for him, she would brandish every sword to beat back his demons. for him, she would carry the whole sky on her back. ❛   i know.   ❜ her voice is steady, reaching out to him to call him back to himself. back to her. back home. ❛   i'm here now && you will never be without me.   �� in her mind's eye, she tugs the bond. " come back to me, my love. "
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luveline · 5 months
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gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing
thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k
Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated. 
You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong. 
"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?" 
"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks. 
Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach. 
"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong." 
"I'm just trying to figure something out." 
This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance. 
You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein. 
He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?" 
That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop. 
"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something. 
"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself." 
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention." 
He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights. 
Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done? 
You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time. 
I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again. 
You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears. 
This is all so messy, and it's your fault. 
I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me. 
You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid. 
The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help. 
"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?" 
He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go." 
He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention. 
Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up. 
He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell. 
Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you. 
"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it." 
Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry." 
Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel. 
Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug. 
He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes  
He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon. 
His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two. 
"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset " 
"I'm an idiot–" 
"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"
"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–" 
"I shouldn't have–" 
"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away. 
Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up." 
He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into? 
"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me." 
Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says. 
"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile. 
"It's not okay." 
"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even." 
"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked." 
"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?" 
"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back." 
You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better." 
"I know, angel." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you." 
What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful. 
"Does it look really bad?" 
"N–no. You look really pretty," he says. 
"Are my eyes puffy?"
A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already." 
"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to." 
Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid." 
"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask. 
Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not." 
You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure." 
"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."
"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want." 
"Can I give you a hug?" he asks. 
You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it. 
"That feels nice," you mumble. 
He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?" 
"Don't," you warn. 
He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?" 
"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it. 
"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry, angel." 
Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.
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roosterr · 7 months
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Hi idk if you're accepting requests but I literally just read the amnesia fic, and I was wondering if I could request where reader suddenly remembers everything, and sprints around base trying to find them, and just jumps on them crying and apologizing for forgetting them. Just some really fluffy comfort? It's okay if you don't want to write this lol
the 141 when you have amnesia – p2
note: i have received your therapy bills :)
wc: 5.2k
warnings: still a bit angsty I'm sorry I couldn't resist, fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injury and blood, happy endings for all I promise
ao3
[part one]
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✹ john thought your initial reaction was a good sign. you seemed to be taking things well, considering the extent of your injuries, and it was only a matter of time before your memories returned.
✹ your spirits are high when you're reintroduced to the team, and though you don't remember them either you do say they feel familiar, which he takes as a good sign for your recovery.
✹ when you're finally discharged, he takes you home, to the house that the two of you bought together. he shows you the photos of the two of you that decorate the walls, fondly retelling the stories of each one to you even though you were there, and these are your pictures.
✹ if you notice the way he chokes up when you get to your wedding photos, you don't say anything.
✹ like the true gentleman he is, he insists on sleeping on the sofa and leaving you to take the bed, despite your protests about it being his home too. even though you were receptive, he would never risk making you uncomfortable by sleeping in the same bed when he was, essentially, a stranger.
✹ in all your years of marriage, he's never slept on the sofa before. the two of you rarely go to bed without each other, apart from the times you're separated by your job, and consequently he finds himself not getting much rest.
✹ you're still on leave while you're physically recovering from being in a coma, so john has to go to work without you every morning, something he also hasn't done since you got married. he wishes he could bring you with him anyway, just to have you near him, but he knows that's selfish and you still need time.
✹ the base is dull without you.
✹ again, he keeps up the appearance that he's okay, and maybe it's a little more true this time now that you're actually awake, but he still feels your absence like a weight on his shoulders.
✹ the other three are pleased amongst themselves about your recovery, gaz and soap constantly asking him how you are; and he knows they mean well, but it's still irritating because how could you be okay? you don't even remember your own husband, nothing about this is okay.
✹ he keeps his grievances to himself though. he's still their captain, he can't afford to fall apart when he still has a job to do.
✹ he's woken up one night by soft footsteps in the living room. his neck aches as his eyes snap open, every sense on high alert until he realises it's just you. a quiet grunt escapes him as he sits up, massaging his sore muscles from sleeping on the sofa.
✹ when the sound of muffled crying reaches his ears, he's immediately on his feet, his heart racing as he shuffles over to where you're standing with a hand covering your mouth.
✹ he presses a hand to your back, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. you don't look at him, your crying only increasing in volume now you're not worried about waking him.
✹ now that he's right next to you, he sees through the darkness that you're holding one of your wedding photos. it's his favourite picture, the one where he's lifting you with an arm around your waist and you're both gazing into each other's eyes with the most lovestruck expression on your faces.
✹ "i– i know i love you, so wh-why can't i just remember you?" you sputter in between sobs, and you might as well have just ripped his heart out of his chest, because he can't stop the way he breaks down at your words.
✹ john wraps both arms tightly around you, caging you to his chest and nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder while pressing his own tear-stained face into the top of your head.
✹ "it's alright, love–" his voice cracks pitifully, and he's never felt quite as hopeless as he does in this moment. "it'll be alright, you'll remember, i promise…"
✹ he's not sure who he's trying to convince, you or himself as you both sink to the floor in each other's embrace. you stay like that for hours, crying for your lost memory into the early morning.
✹ after that, he can't be bothered to pretend he's okay anymore.
✹ he starts drinking again, shamelessly in the middle of the day and grumbling at gaz and ghost when they wrestle the bottle away from him. he knows you'd disapprove, but the toll of lying to himself and everyone around him has caught up. all he wanted was his partner back, the love of his life, you.
✹ the others try to knock some sense into him, but talking to him becomes like going back and forth with a brick wall. gaz even gets kate on the phone to yell at him, but nothing seems to get through. he orders them to leave him alone, stop asking about you, and it really feels like he's lost hope.
✹ it goes on like this for a week straight, nearly a full month since you first woke up.
✹ and then one boring afternoon, there's a commotion outside his office. john hears cheers and shouts from down the corridor, but he can't bring himself to care enough to investigate.
✹ he's not in the mood to celebrate whatever it is they're cheering about anyway.
✹ john's just about to stand and yell at them to shut up, but then you're suddenly standing at his door, slamming it behind you as you rush over to his desk. his face must be the picture of surprise as he swivels in his chair to follow you as you approach, opening his legs for you to stand between them.
✹ his breath catches in his throat as you cup his face, your touch so tender it has his heart hammering against his sternum like the very first time you touched him all those years ago. he plants his hands firmly on your hips, too afraid of getting his hopes up to say a single word as he watches you get closer.
✹ your face hovers just above his, warm breath fanning over his face as you inch ever closer. he sees your eyes glistening before they flutter shut, brushing your lips against his with an anticipation that has his skin tingling.
✹ when you pull away, his eyes stay closed, but he can hear the smile in your voice when you whisper,
✹ "i remember you now."
✹ his heart might’ve actually stopped at your words, surprise shooting through him like a bolt of lightning as his eyes snap open.
✹ in a second, he's lifting you by the waist and dropping you onto his desk, uncaring for the various papers that he brushes out of the way to make room for you.
✹ he can't stop the overjoyed laugh that rumbles in his chest now he's the one standing between your legs, gripping your face and pushing his lips back against your with all the passion he's been bottling up during your recovery.
✹ you smile into the kiss too, wrapping your arms securely around his neck, running your fingers up his neck and through his hair. it feels like a weight has lifted, something heavy in the back of his mind finally dissipating and allowing him to relax into your hold.
✹ the two of you break away after a moment, keeping him close to you as you press your forehead to his. "i'm sorry that i ever forgot you."
✹ "i can think of a way you can make it up to me, love…"
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✹ you're so apologetic about your amnesia, it breaks his heart all over again. what's worse is that he has no idea what to do; he doesn't want to try and force you to remember, that would just stress you out more, but he wants you to remember him so desperately he feels it ache in his bones.
✹ in the end, he decides to just let things play out. he wants you to recover at your own pace, and not just because of him and how he feels about you.
✹ he also doesn't say a word about your relationship, but with how he initially reacted, he's sure you got the idea. you don't mention it either, which admittedly hurts a little, but he's sure the confusion of waking up to having a boyfriend who's name you don't even know is worse than how he feels about it.
✹ kyle vows to take care of you the moment you're discharged. he takes you to your room, shows you where everything is, makes sure you know where he is should you ever need anything, and he even introduces you to the others again.
✹ you still remember your job and how to do it so, once you're physically well enough, you get right back to it. they carry on as normal, the rest of the taskforce – assimilating you back into their nights of drinking and fucking around as if you'd never left.
✹ kyle still doesn't feel right about it.
✹ he doesn't want to treat you like glass, because you're exactly the same as when he first met you. you're still quick-witted, stubborn, and one of the toughest people he knows, you just… don't know him.
✹ it kills him on the inside, but he stays strong for you; the last thing he wants is to become the mess of a man he was when you were out, he doesn't want you to see him like that. he sorely misses spending his nights with you, and talking endlessly about your days to each other. he sends you longing glances every time you look away, wondering if you'd ever feel the same again.
✹ if you can go back to living normally, why can't he?
✹ but as the weeks go by, kyle notices how you start to withdraw, the loneliness that blocks out the light in your eyes that he loves so much. you fade into the background of conversations, sticking to listening rather than engaging.
✹ you watch them from afar, and he still knows you well enough to know what's going through your head. feeling somehow like you belong and also like an outsider at the same time, wishing you could understand the inside jokes you were a part of.
✹ he wishes more than anything that there was something he could do – make you understand that you're wanted, and you're a valuable part of the team even without your memories, but any time he brings it up you simply brush him off with that far away look in your eyes.
✹ three weeks go by before anything changes.
✹ it's the first time in a while they finally have an afternoon off, so of course they decide to spend it playing football on one of the fields within the bounds of the base. soap and ghost on one team, gaz and the captain on the other, with you spectating and keeping score on the sidelines. 
✹ kyle offered to sit out if you wanted to play, but you'd brushed him off with the excuse of wanting to rest and read your book, laying out your jacket on the grass to sit on.
✹ he could tell you weren't all there, but he didn't know how to help you; so he just reassured you that you could call him over if you needed anything, and left you to guard his own jacket and water bottle before running off to join the game.
✹ the whole time he was sprinting around the field, he couldn't stop looking over to you over by the sidelines. he wasn't with it, he hadn't been since you woke up, really, and the others could tell.
✹ price abruptly calls half-time, clapping gaz on the shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "just talk to 'em, before it eats you alive." he chides, pushing him in your direction before he can think to protest.
✹ with a deep sigh and a glace backwards to the others, who shoo him away without a word, he jogs over to where you're sitting. the way the late afternoon sun hits you just right stops kyle dead in his tracks when he catches how it glows in your eyes. he feels a pull in his chest as he approaches you.
✹ you look up from your book as his shadow reaches you, shooting him a tiny smile as he drops himself next to you. he takes a swig from his water bottle as he catches his breath, extremely conscious of the way your teammates are pretending not to watch him while he comes up with the words.
✹ "so, who's winning then?" you ask, turning so you're facing him. he sees how your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.
✹ "aren't you supposed to be keepin' score?" kyle chuckles, shifting slightly closer to you as you look away with a bashful expression. he allows your hands to brush, wanting nothing more than to lock your fingers together.
✹ "i'm not really paying attention."
✹ there's a beat of silence and that helpless feeling is back as he watches you look back out to the field, where the others are still kicking the ball back and forth.
✹ "how you doin'?" he asks, keeping his voice low as he leans in even closer to you. your mouth opens to respond, that slightly off smile back on your face, but before you can he places his hand fully over yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. "actually."
✹ you sigh, heavy and tired, and bring your gaze back over to his. "it's… hard." you begin, your eyes betraying the internal struggle. "and i'm… i know, before, we were–"
✹ he blinks and you're being sent over backwards by a football flying into your face with a smack that makes kyle's ears ring.
✹ immediately he's crouching over you, helping you sit back up and pressing the sleeve of his jacket to your nose, uncaring for the blood that stains it.
✹ "you alright?" he murmurs, gently holding your face as he inspects your nose. you nod, wincing at the movement, and take the sleeve of his jacket from him.
✹ once he's sure you're okay, his vision turns red with anger. it's pretty obvious who kicked the ball when he whips around to see soap kneeling on the ground with his head in his hands.
✹ "oi!" kyle shouts, sending him a deadly glare as he gets up. "soap, what the fuck!"
✹ the man in question looks up from his hands, an incredibly guilty look on his face. "i'm sorry pal! i dinnae ken what happened!"
✹ "just piss off, you prick!"
✹ kyle looks back to you, crouching down again with a concerned frown; but you're already looking at him, the silhouette of his own form reflected in your wide eyes. your nose is still dripping blood, but you drop his jacket and your hands to your lap anyway, mouth agape as you stare back at him.
✹ "what's wrong? are you–"
✹ you cut him off by tackling him to the ground with your arms around his neck, squeezing a surprised 'oof' from him as you land on top of his chest. one of his hands flies to your waist to steady you, the other carefully cradling your head.
✹ "i remember!" you cry, an elated laugh bubbling up as fresh tears wet your cheeks.
✹ kyle lets out a relieved laugh of his own, craning his neck to plant his lips firmly on yours with an infectious grin. in the background the others groan at the display of affection, but neither of you pay them any mind.
✹ eventually the two of you pull away, a wide smile still plastered on both of your faces as you get up from the grass. he pulls you in with the hand that still hasn't moved from your waist and leans to whisper in your ear,
✹ "fancy kickin' soap's arse?"
✹ "you read my mind."
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soap
✹ johnny's enthusiastic with your recovery. anyone could've guessed that from the moment you woke up he'd be doting, eager to help you in any way you could need.
✹ yes, you didn't remember him, but be was just so ecstatic that you were okay – apart from the amnesia – that he couldn't find it in himself to be disappointed about it. you'd get your memories back soon enough, and then everything would go right back to the way it was.
✹ sometimes he gets a little carried away, forgets that while you are technically in a relationship, he's not much more than a stranger to you right now. more than once you end up having to ask him for some space because he's so incredibly touchy, and you're not sure how to handle it.
✹ you also request a temporary room to sleep in while you recover, separate from him. johnny's not sure how he feels about it.
✹ he feels that sinking feeling in his chest whenever you push him back with a hand on his chest, a polite smile tugging at your lips. it's disheartening, but he tries not to let it get to him. you'll remember soon, and then this will all be in the past.
✹ maybe you'll even laugh about it, how you could ever forget your wonderful boyfriend.
✹ he takes it upon himself to read up on amnesia, so he can better understand how to help you in any way you might need. once he learns that exposure to memories that you've lost can help your recovery, he eagerly convinces you to let him show you places that have meaning to you and your relationship with him.
✹ you agree, and he didn't actually need to do much convincing because you seem just as interested in the idea as him. he knocks on your door the following evening, offering you a single rose before whisking you away with a charming smile.
✹ he takes you on your first date all over again, with the same level of enthusiasm as before. he treats you to dinner at a relatively nice restaurant, telling you all about how the two of you got together in the first place, and memories you have together. he even orders you dessert, recalling with a chuckle how he accidentally guessed your favourite on your actual first date.
✹ once you both finish eating, he guides you by the hand to the canal for the second half of the date, a romantic moonlit stroll by the water. he pulls you close with an arm around your shoulders, meeting your eyes with a fond smile and a blush dusting his cheeks.
✹ "hold on…" you mutter, a pensive expression taking over your face as you stop walking. you turn to gaze at the water, seemingly working something out in your mind. "this… this is where gaz fell into the river that one time, right?"
✹ johnny's heart misses a beat, his eyes lighting up with renewed, excited hope as he grins at you. "you remember?"
✹ "a little, yeah," you smile, dropping your gaze and hands from his with a sorry scratch at the back of your neck. "the rest is still blank, though…"
✹ his smile falters, but he's quick to make sure you don't see his disappointment by pulling you into a reassuring hug. "that's still somethin'! you'll be good as new in nae time!"
✹ the next morning, he finds you and gaz in the rec room on one of the couches, talking animatedly with each other. that familiar shine is in your eyes, the sight johnny's been missing for the last few months. it makes his heart feel light, finally seeing you acting like your normal self again after so long.
✹ he approaches you both, watching you fondly as you talk and laugh with gaz, but his good mood is soured when you only briefly acknowledge his arrival when he sits down across from you, before resuming your conversation with gaz. his brow twitches downwards.
✹ gaz is one of your closest friends, and he’s glad you remembered him. he's happy that you got part of your memory back, even if it wasn't a part that included him.
✹ this was a good thing. you'd remember him soon, he was sure of it.
✹ a few more days pass until anything else notable happens. while you were in the gym together, you told him you felt a headache coming on, so he offered to walk you to the infirmary for some painkillers. the casual conversation you made on the way wouldn't have bothered him before, but he just couldn't shake the image of you and gaz being so comfortable, while he's still stuck on the outside.
✹ he doesn't say anything though. making you feel bad about it won't solve anything, and it's not like you're doing it on purpose, he knows you wouldn't do that to him. you were just excited to have a familiar face, that's all.
✹ while you're waiting for the medic on call, your head suddenly snaps to attention and you get that same pensive look on your face as that night by the river.
✹ "you got something?" johnny asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your upper back. he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he can't help the way his heart flutters with optimism.
✹ you nod, a smile growing on your features. "i remember that time lt. dislocated my shoulder, and price basically forced him apologise to me," you laugh, thankfully facing away from johnny as his lips turn downwards, "god, he was pissed, it was honestly kinda funny."
✹ "what, uhm…" he lightly clears his throat, hoping you don't hear the dejection in his voice, "what about me?"
✹ you meet his eyes again with an apologetic shake of your head. "i'm sorry, soap…"
✹ "yer fine, it's–" he swallows thickly, waving you off with an exaggerated smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "this is good, it's progress."
✹ since then, he's given you more space. it's clear to him that his efforts aren't helping you remember him, it actually feels like it's having the opposite effect. of course, he's glad you remember your friends, but you still don't remember him – your own boyfriend.
✹ it's wrong, and he knows it is, but he's jealous.
✹ he has to watch you carry on like usual, without him. you haven't set foot in the room you used to share together since before you were comatose. he's done his best to disguise how much it hurts, but it still annoys him how no one else seems to notice how wrong it all is. the others don't need you like he does, they don't lay awake at night going over every moment, treasuring the time you called him yours, yearning with every fibre of his being to go back.
✹ it's been a month and a half since you woke up, six weeks of being so close yet so unbearably far from you. he prays to any god that will listen to bring you back to him, allow him to hold you in his arms once more, but nothing ever changes.
✹ the thread he's been hanging on by ever since you went down on that mission gone wrong is one more bad day away from snapping.
✹ he's approached by gaz one morning, while waiting for the others to begin training, who takes it upon himself to ask johnny about how you're recovering. when gaz teases him about how he was the first person you remembered, and johnny thinks he might just strangle him.
✹ "careful, soap, i might steal 'em away," gaz laughs, patting his shoulder with a camaraderie soap scoffs at.
✹ "shut the fuck up." he snarls, his face bunched in a strikingly out of character scowl. his hands twitch at his sides, nails digging painfully into his palms.
✹ gaz blinks, his eyebrows shooting up, clearly taken aback by the hostility from his friend. "alright, i was only jokin', mate."
✹ "aye, well, i'm nae laughin'."
✹ the tension is stifling. he can tell gaz wants to say something more, but he holds his tongue – too worried about upsetting soap any further.
✹ they stand in silence with each other like that for a while, gaz watching him from the corner of his eye while he keeps his gaze firmly on the grass below him.
✹ thankfully, after not too long the uneasy atmosphere is interrupted by a shout from the direction of the building, "johnny!"
✹ his head snaps to attention to see you, grinning uncontrollably and sprinting towards him at full speed.
✹ "wha–" he's caught off guard by how you leap into his arms, hooking your arms around his neck as he stumbles backwards in surprise.
✹ before he has time to question your actions, you're smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss that has johnny's head spinning. he wastes no time in reciprocating, securing one arm around your waist and bringing the other to the back of your head, using it you press you impossibly closer to him as he groans into your mouth.
✹ you reluctantly pull away, just enough to take a shaky breath, but johnny's had stays put on the back of your head. "i'm sorry i forgot, i'm sorry…" you mumble against his lips, dragging your fingers through the unkempt hair of his mohawk.
✹ he drops his head into the juncture of you neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply the scent of you that he's gone so long without. he laughs into you, slightly delirious and just so overjoyed to have you in his arms again that feels his eyes sting with tears.
✹ "i've missed you, bonnie," he chuckles wetly, pressing his lips back to yours in another desperate kiss, "i've missed you so much,"
✹ "i'll never forget you again."
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ghost
✹ he avoids you like the plague.
✹ or he tries to, at least. but truth be told, after spending so much time learning to be vulnerable around you and allowing you into his guarded heart, it's difficult to go back to being a stranger to you.
✹ that, and he doesn't actually want to.
✹ but he needs to. being around you, the love of his life, knowing that you don't remember him, it's like a knife stuck between his ribs. any time he's in the same room as you he finds himself fighting the urge to grab your hand, or press his forehead against you.
✹ he knows you don't want him anymore, the last thing you deserve is a giant of a man – who you're clearly afraid of, even if you won't say it – hanging around you like a shadow.
✹ you're still kind to him, because of course you are, checking in on him and trying to talk to him any opportunity you get. it's nice, sometimes he can even pretend everything is normal when he shares a laugh with you, but then he sees the hesitance in your eyes and he's brought back to the cold reality of the situation.
✹ the weeks drag like this, every fleeting look from you another bleeding wound on his heart.
✹ he keeps it together surprisingly well, all things considered, but the breaking point comes when you find him having a smoke one night, on a bench just outside the barracks.
✹ "simon?" your voice cuts through the silence, his eyes snapping to you as you sit down next to him. he takes another long drag from his cigarette as he watches you, uncertainty in your voice as you continue, "can you tell me about… me? and us?"
✹ no matter how much he thinks he should, he can't look away from your pleading gaze.
✹ "we… you're everything to me," simon mutters, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with the heel of his boot, "i've never felt the way i do with you before, you've helped me more than you could ever know…"
✹ his vision blurs with unshed tears. the sadness on your face starts and ache in his heart, the desire to take you into his arms and just hold you making his skin bristle.
✹ "you don't have to feel the same way, but…" he pulls the balaclava from his head, setting it on the bench in the space between you, bearing his face to you like he always does, "even if you never get your memory back, i'll always love you."
✹ the way you look at him makes it so incredibly difficult not to cry. your eyes are glassy and far away, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth with an expression that screams guilt – but it's not your fault, and he'd never blame you.
✹ you open your mouth to say something, but the words never materialise. the night stays silent, and simon expects it, but it still makes his bones ache with a heaviness that he knows he can't shake.
✹ he stands, picking up his balaclava, and walks quietly past you to the barracks door. there's no fleeting look, not this time. he disappears to his room without another word.
✹ he's not sure how much later it is when he hears a knock on his door. minutes, hours, it didn't matter. it all blends together now.
✹ when he doesn't bother to answer, whoever it is lets themselves in, shutting the door gently behind themselves. he sits up with the intention of chewing them out, but when he opens his eyes they land on your form, curled in on yourself and shuffling quickly over to him.
✹ you're here, in his room, with a face that looks like you've been crying for hours, puffy and tear-stained with bloodshot eyes.
✹ he almost thinks he's dreaming, but the warmth as you wrap your arms around him and bring his face to your chest is too real, too familiar. he brings his arms up  around your waist, releasing a shaky sigh into your skin as he squeezes you tighter against him.
✹ a few hot tears meet the top of his head as you whisper to him the words he's been waiting, longing to hear, rocking gently from side to side.
✹ "i remember, si."
✹ it feels like he can finally rest, like the state of being he's been living in for the last few months melts away with your touch and he feels safe again.
✹ with his grip around your waist, he hoists you onto his bed to lay back down with him, holding you tightly against his chest, your heart right beside his own racing one.
✹ you cradle his face again, pressing your lips to his face over and over, touching every inch of him with your love.
✹ "i'm sorry…" you whisper like a mantra, punctuating every kiss with an apology that makes his throat constrict with the raw emotion he feels. "i'm sorry,"
✹ "don't be…" he mirrors how you hold his face, tangling his legs with yours as he captures your mouth and pours every ounce of passion he has into the way he kisses you. "don't be, love."
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rosinantecigarettes · 7 months
Text
★ ★ WHAT IS LOVE? ★ ★
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what's real love for them. (ft. sanji, law and corazon). part 1/?
content warning: plus sized!reader. mentions of younger law in cora's part. proofread. partially nsfw. size difference. blowjob. overstimulation. cunnilingus. cockwarming. slight belly bulge. slight praise kink.
a.n: my first post! I'm afraid ngl, but I really hope yall like it. Idk why i took so fckn long tho??? I was really lazy I'm sorry sbehwjsvwga
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𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈
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when you care about the little things about him, remembering things he told weeks, even months ago. letting him know you hear and pay attention to everything he says.
when you take him off the kitchen, forcing him to rest, he'll ''complain'' about it, but he's so grateful and head over heels when you massage his tense muscles, letting out a sigh as you reach his sore shoulders.
when you trust enough for him to lay on your fluffy belly, caressing his hair. that was the best nap he ever took.
when you lecture luffy for asking sanji to cook for him so late at night, letting the blonde go to sleep a little earlier. he really loves how you care about his well-being.
when you help him in the kitchen, he insists he don't need help, that you should rest, but you're stubborn, helping him in every way you can. he swears he can't fall in love more that he already did, but you always proved he was terrebly wrong.
when he sees your fucked out expression after eating you out for hours. your throat sore from screaming his name, your hands on his messy hair. "just one more, mon chèri... for me?"
𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐎𝐍
when the first instinct that you have when he fall for the thousand time, is helping him get up and asking if he's okay.
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when he gets home late at night and sees you're sat on the couch with a book in hand, waiting for him so you'll both go to bed together.
when you look into his eyes everytime he smiles, "you look so cute when you smile, rosi" you say, and as his cheeks burns, you smile too, knowing well what you do to him.
when, on one of the nights he can't sleep, you hug him from behind and kiss behind his ear and neck, making him relax in bed; reassuring him with your presence.
when he sees you and law getting along with each other; he sees law opening more with you and he cant help but smile at the sight of you and him talking about "Sora, the warrior of the sea" while law smiles.
when you try to take all of his cock in your mouth, it barely fitting as you look at him all innocent with tears in your eyes. his hand on your hair as he fight back the urge to fuck your face. "that's it cariño... you're doing so well"
𝐋𝐀𝐖
when, in the middle of the night, you go to his office and lay your head on his shoulder, mumbling that the bed is cold without him, leaving him with no choice but to cuddle with you in bed.
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when you're laying on his chest and trace his tattoos, slow and delicate fingertips running through everywhere the black ink is.
when you let him lay on your breasts, his hand passing on your belly while the other arm is around your waist. your right hand is on his raven hair while the other is caressing his back.
when you chuckle while he look serious patching your wound from a recent fight. "what is it?" "you look cute when you're trying to look serious"
when you come into his office, onigiris in hand while you remind him that he have to eat and rest. you're always so good to him... he really dont know what he would do without you.
when you're on his lap, his dick so deep inside you while you try not to move too much. he points at your tummy "you see that, dear? I'm so deep in you... you're so good to me, taking care of me so well..." he says and kiss your neck, leaving you a moaning mess.
4K notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
Text
good boy
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words: 1.5k
warnings: established relationship, marriage, protective!rafe, (guard??) dog, fluffy
“rafe, it's literally two weeks. ill be fine!” you say, folding his clothes, having dumped out his suitcase onto the bed to reorganize it when you saw how he packed it, just chucking things in.
“two weeks where im a hours away from you by plane.” rafe sighs, watching you carefully repack his suitcase as he pouts on the bed, not wanting to leave you.
“you know, cameron, i lived a whole 20 years before meeting you.” you point out, knowing while rafes concern comes from his love for you, it will completely overwhelm what is supposed to be an enjoyable family vacation and leave him miserable the whole time.
“i don't see why you can't just come with me.” rafe groans, flopping back against the bed. you smile and round the bed to where his head is resting against the pillows. you press a smooch to his forehead, rubbing your hand over his head, petting at his soft hair.
“baby, it's just for your family. you know that.” it's not like you don't want to accompany rafe to a tropical paradise, but you would feel way too awkward intruding.
“what if something happens to you? and im not here to protect you? id be the worst fiancee ever.” rafe grabs your head from rubbing his head, holding up the ring on your finger for him to admire.
“nothing will happen. nothing ever happens here.” you laugh. you're not sure what crime is like on the other side of the island, but your neighborhood is incredibly safe.
“im still worried.” rafe sighs. “you in that big house all alone.”
“im gonna spend 99% of the time wedding planning.” you hum, thinking about the tabs pulled open on your laptop of different venues, dresses, and color palettes.
that finally gets rafe to crack a smile. “can't wait to marry you.” rafe says earnestly. he only proposed a month ago, some people would say that you were too young to get married, but rafe knew when you came into his life and turned everything around for him that he had to put a ring on your finger.
“i can't wait either.” you bend down to press a kiss to rafes lips. “but seriously we need to talk about your packing before we tie the knot, why do you only have one pair of shorts packed for an island?”
-- two years later --
“remember those two weeks you left before we were engaged? it's not really much longer. you should go, baby. it's a good opportunity.” you are sat on rafes lap, back pressed against his chest as he scrolls through his email.
“it's just work, and it's a whole lot longer than two weeks. i don't want to leave you here alone for over a month.” rafe closes out of the email, making you sigh.
“i was fine for those two weeks, ill be fine now. promise. i think you should go! it's a big conference.” you turn sideways on his lap so you can look rafe in the eye. “besides, it's still six months away. plenty of time to prepare.”
“prepare?” rafe raises his eyebrows. “so you'd be good with security cams around the whole house and personal security?”
“cameras on the outside and hell no. you don't want some random guys watching after me do you?”
you can see the gears turning in rafes head as he frowns. “yeah, you're right. no men.”
“so you'll go?” you smile. rafe closes his eyes for a brief moment before nodding.
“yay!” you squeal. you're not excited to be left alone, and you love being around your husband more than anything, but the work trip is a big deal, and you know he'll be kicking himself if he misses out on such a good opportunity.
--
“rafey?” you call, eyes sweeping across the living room as you enter your shared home, a head full of fresh highlights.
“hubby?” you call out, continuing deeper into the house until you see movement through the glass door leading towards the backyard, but it's not the typical roll of the ocean against the shore.
“rafe?” you question as you open the door. you expected to find him in his office, where he was before you left for the beauty salon.
rafe smiles, waiting for your eyes to look down, and when you finally see what is sitting at rafes feet, you let out a gasp.
“oh my gosh!” you squeal. 
“wifey, meet max. our new australian shepherd.” rafe gives a command with his hand, that has max running towards you.
you sink to your knees as the young dog excitedly greets you, licking at your hands as you pet him.
“hi maxey.” you coo at the dog, you're guessing around two years old, with max being full size but still having some young features.
“rafe, you didn't tell me you were getting us a dog!” you stand up, max following close behind as you rush to give your husband a hug.
“i have a confession.” rafe says, his hands looped around your waist. you frown, worried that max was just a foster and you'd have to give him back, or that something went wrong with the adoption. you often talked about getting pets before getting married, but wanted to wait a little bit, and then time just slipped away and before you knew it, you were over a year into your marriage. 
“what?” you whine out.
“ive been working with a trainer behind your back. i wanted to make sure max was ready before we chose him for sure. he knows commands, me, your scent, our house. everything. he knows his primary responsibility is to protect you and our property.”
“oh my gosh!” you slap rafe in the chest, surprised that he was able to keep such a secret from you. “how could you do all that without telling me?” you laugh, not angry, but surprised that he was able to orchestrate everything.
you don't wait for rafe to explain how he was able to find so much time, stepping out of his hold to kneel down and continue petting max.
“we have some more training sessions so he can learn with you as well.” rafe further explains, also leaning down to pet max behind the ears as he pants excitedly at his new owners.
--
“what is it maxy?” you ask as he lifts his head up, looking around the living room. “you miss your daddy?”
you sigh as max lets out a sad sounding huff, petting your hand over his head, scratching at his neck which you know is his favorite. rafe has been gone on his business trip for a month now, with only a week and a half left until he returns home.
max suddenly jumps off the couch, eyes on the backyard. he lets out a bark, claws clicking on the hardwood floor as he moves to the glass door. he lets out another bark, making you stand.
“what is it boy?” you ask, looking out the window.
max lets out another bark, this one the familiar territorial bark that he’s practiced in his training with you and rafe. you know the only reason that rafe feels safe enough leaving you home is that max is a great guard dog.
you get closer to the window, squinting your eyes to try and see in the darkness when you sudden jump back with a scream as a squirrel runs across your patio, causing max to bark and run along the glass door until it scatters into the yard.
“holy shit, maxy, you scared the shit out of me.” you press your hand to your chest before kneeling down, scratching behind his ears. “it was just a squirrel.” you reassure him with a pat.
your heart rate is just starting to calm down from the fright when you hear the front door open. max instantly takes off with you following after him, letting out a sigh of relief when you see rafe standing in the foyer.
“baby.” he sighs happily, setting his suitcase down as you run into his arms, pressing your lips together. “i missed you so much.”
“i missed you too, what are you doing home though?” you ask, giving him another kiss before he can answer.
“they didn’t need me for the rest of the week, decided to get home to my lady.” max barks, making rafe lean down to pet him, still holding you up. “and my good boy too, of course.”
“so happy to have you home.” you nuzzle your nose into rafes neck, inhaling the familiar scent that you missed so much. 
“happy to be back with you, wifey.” rafe says, carrying you further into the house.
“oh, and you will be very happy to know maxy did a great job protecting me while you were gone.” you tell rafe. it mostly involved max barking in warning at any delivery guy or car turning around in your driveway, but his presence did help making you feel safer and less loney.
“hopefully not too good.” rafe huffs as he looks at your pet. “can’t have him replacing me now.”
you giggle, surprised rafe can manage to be jealous of your dog. “never.” you swear, pressing another kiss to his lips.
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1K notes · View notes
awearywritersworld · 6 months
Text
"took you long enough"
gojo satoru x reader summary: when you ask your best friend to meet the guy you've been seeing, things don't go quite as planned. w/c: 3.2k tags/warnings: angst to smut with a fluffy ending. 18+. friends to lovers. jealous gojo. curse words. drinking. gojo shoves ur love interest. he's just kind of an ass to him in general. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: i don't often write smut, but i kinda got carried away.. carpe diem, i say masterlist
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gojo is tired of hearing you ramble on about the new guy you've been seeing. he barely even glances at your phone screen when you try to show him a picture you took together.
"you're way out of his league," he states dryly.
"hardly," you scoff. "men don't exactly line up for me like women do for you."
it'd be a lie to claim you didn't have a thing for gojo at one point, but you learned a long time ago that he isn't interested in you that way. it wasn't hard to tell, given his parade of hookups and the occasional two week relationship. you've gotten over it though... for the most part, anyway.
he rolls his eyes. "i assure you that's only because you're shy, princess."
"okay, so you should be rejoicing that your best friend finally landed herself a boyfriend—"
"boyfriend?"
"well.. it's not official yet, but i think he's going to ask me soon!"
your apparent enthusiasm at the prospect leaves a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. of course, it's only because he wants the best for you and this guy certainly isn't it. "you've gone on like two dates."
"'toru, i've been seeing him for almost a month!" when he doesn't respond, you continue speaking. "so... that's why i was sort of hoping you'd come out with us tonight."
he looks at you increduously, "i am not third wheeling."
"you won't be!" you assure. "shoko and kento said they'd come. i just want you to meet him because you're really important to me and i actually think this could go somewhere—"
"alright, alright," he acquiesces, albeit begrudgingly. he's never been able to say no to you.
you squeal with excitement, throwing your arms around his neck in a brief hug. "i can't wait! we're all meeting at seven, i'll text you the address."
after a quick kiss to his cheek, you gather your things, all but running out the door. you weren't going to give him a chance to change his mind.
he stares after you wordlessly, running a hand through his hair while an unfamiliar tightness overcomes his chest.
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when gojo enters the bar, he spots you right away despite the sizable crowd. as he makes his way toward your group, he can't help but notice how pretty you look in your little dress. in fact, you'd look absolutely perfect if it weren't for the fact you have another man's arm around your waist.
wait, what?
your laugh rings out across the room and judging by the smirk on shoko's face, he can tell she's said something you find unreasonably funny. once you spot him, your face lights up and you pull away from your almost boyfriend to give gojo a hug, something that brings him a sense of satisfaction.
"hey, sweetheart," he greets loud enough that the other man can hear. "who's this?"
"satoru, this is shinya!" you're beaming at him expectantly, so gojo has no choice but to extend his hand.
"hey, man." shinya shakes it firmly. "it's great to meet you. my girl's told me a lot about you."
gojo's eye twitches and he decides almost immediately that he finds shinya utterly insufferable. his voice is grating and he's too short and didn't you say you prefer guys with lighter hair—
"nice to meet you, too," gojo responds cooly. "i'm always happy to meet one of her friends."
nanami and shoko share a knowing look, more than prepared to break out their hypothetical popcorn. and boy, is this as good an occasion as any.
the strongest sorcerer isn't one to indulge in liquor, but how can he refrain when he has to be in the same room as shinya? each time he touches you, looks in your direction, calls you some sickening pet name— whenever he breathes in your general vicinity, really— gojo brings his drink up to his lips.
everyone else seems to be getting along, but unfortunately, he grows increasingly snarky with each glass he empties.
shinya asks what you'd like when he goes up for another round and it's 'oh, you don't know her favorite drink? well, i guess you're not as close as we are.'
shinya pulls your chair out for you and it's 'wow, you really got yourself a gentleman, princess.'
shinya mentions that he's fairly well versed in martial arts and it's 'really? maybe we should go out back and spar. i think it'd be fun.'
nanami steps in then, not entirely convinced gojo would hesitate before laying him out. "you can put the measuring tape away, idiot."
shinya is being an impressively good sport, but your anxiety has you emptying glasses in a hasty manner, too. you have no idea what's going on with gojo. you understand that he can be abrasive at times and that communication definitely isn't his strong suit, but his behavior is just absurd. you force an awkward laugh at nanami's comment.
"not that i'm not having, um, a great time and all!" you hiccup before continuing. "but i'd really like to dance. c'mon shinya!"
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nanami and shoko wind up joining you both, which comes as a surprise. neither of them are exactly the partying type (not that you are either), but you're happy to see them having fun. honestly, you can't remember the last time either of them let loose.
you wonder if they also just wanted to escape gojo's snide remarks. now that they aren't ringing in your ear every other minute, your nerves have certainly calmed down a bit. well, until—
"so you do know that he's totally in love with you, right?"
"who?" you question, looking around as if it'd be obvious.
and it is, just not to you.
shinya chuckles. "gojo."
"what?" you bellow, completely dumfounded. "no way! i mean he's not— and i'm not— we're just friends."
"yeah?" he still sounds amused, nodding in gojo's direction. "is that why he looks like that?"
turning toward your table, even you have to admit he looks completely miserable. unbeknownst to you, he's spent the last half hour sending away every woman that approaches him asking to dance. he just isn't in the mood right now. at least, that's what he tells himself.
"er.. he just doesn't get out that much," you try your best to brush it off.
"whatever you say, baby."
you're relieved he doesn't seem terribly bothered by the idea, even if you find it completely implausible. it's true you spend a lot of time together and that you know one another like the back of your hands, but you'd given up any hope of it being more than friendship a long time ago. you'd moved on.
but if that's the case, why did shinya calling you baby suddenly feel so wrong? you convince yourself it must just be the alcohol.
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when the four of you finally stumble back to the table, you realize you've missed last call. though it's probably for the best, as the five of you are certainly in for a nasty hangover the following morning.
it's near closing time, but the crowd has hardly thinned out and the music is still beating loudly in your ears. you're going back to jujutsu tech with your friends rather than home with shinya, so you loudly exchange goodbyes over the music as he gets ready to leave.
"i had a really great time tonight," he tells you. "maybe we could go for dinner tomorrow? there's something i've been wanting to ask you."
"okay!" you agree eagerly, eyes shining. "i'll call you in the morning."
gojo feels his stomach drop, his jaw clenching bitterly. he tries to tell himself to relax because this is what you want, but he just can't seem to get his thoughts straight.
shinya leans down, his lips meeting yours sweetly, and it causes white hot anger to flood gojo's body. it all happens so fast, shinya's ripped away from you with astounding force and he staggers backward. you've been struggling to hear over the noise all night, though you make out each word that follows with striking clarity.
"get the fuck away from her!"
gojo stalks off before anyone has time to process what just happened. he's already half way across the room when you come to your senses.
"'toru!" you call out, taking a step in his direction when he doesn't respond. "satoru!"
you take another step but you're stopped when something pulls you back. you look down to find shinya's hand wrapped around your wrist before your gaze turns up to meet his eye. "look, i really like you, but if you go after him, don't bother calling tomorrow."
the ultimatum is simple, but so is your decision. "i'm sorry."
you run off before he can say anything else, shoving your way through the bar patrons, and follow gojo out the door into the cold air of night.
"satoru!" you shout once more, thankful that his pace is slow enough for you to catch up. he turns to face you when you tug on his sleeve.
you nearly shy away from him, his expression something fierce, but the liquor in your system gives you courage. "what the hell was that? you embarrassed me—"
"i don't fucking care," he spits.
he's never taken such a tone with you, so you throw your hands in the air and exhale impatiently. "what do you mean? you should care! you're my friend, aren't you?"
"that's exactly what i mean. you're supposed to be mine," he growls.
you're not sure how it happens, but the next thing you know, his lips are crashing into yours, your teeth knocking together with the force. his hands paw at your hips, pulling your body against his greedily.
"i can't believe," he mumbles against your lips, "you wasted your time," his hands find your hair, tugging your head back and revealing your neck, "with that fucking loser."
once he's finished speaking, his lips trail across your jaw, landing just below your ear. your eyes flutter open and you're suddenly very aware that you're standing in the middle of a public sidewalk.
"'toru," your voice is breathy, even though you're trying desperately to keep it together. "there are people—"
he pulls away heatedly, his eyes narrowed. "you didn't care when he kissed you in front of everyone."
"yeah, but that was just a peck," you reason, though if he keeps this up, you're worried you might lose your resolve.
"tch, i guess you're right." the familiar sensation of warping through space and time sweeps through your body for a few seconds before your feet meet solid ground again. you don't need to look around to know you're in his bedroom. "we're going to do a lot more than that tonight."
your stomach flips at his words, heat rushing to your core. his lips find your neck once more, leaving sloppy kisses along your skin. "that's what you want right? for me to show you who you belong to?"
you nod weakly, feeling as if you're in a daze.
"ah, ah. use your words, sweetheart."
"yes— ah—" he sucks on the spot just above your collarbone before nipping the delicate skin there. "yes, 'toru."
"then get on the bed," he orders lowly.
and who are you to disobey? you can't honestly say you haven't been dreaming of this for years. his blanket feels cool to the touch, making you realize suddenly how much your skin is already burning with desire.
he kneels beside the bed, wasting no time before pushing up your dress and pulling your legs apart. you see his shoulders fall as he exhales harshly at the sight. his eyes flutter shut when he presses a kiss to your core over the tiny cotton panties you decided to wear.
he's rudely reminded of the possibility that you may have put them on with another man in mind.
"did you let him fuck you?" he interrogates. his eyes don't leave yours as he begins placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thigh.
"n-no!" it's almost embarrassing how vehemently you deny it, but the man between your legs takes great pleasure in your response.
"mm, knew you were a good girl."
he hooks a finger beneath your panties, pulling them down excruciatingly slow. you buck your hips up once he throws them off to the side.
"feeling eager, princess?" he taunts, his breath fanning across your center.
you nod, your legs shaking with anticipation, before remembering what he said about using your words. "please, 'toru. need you so bad."
he can't possibly deny you, not when you beg for him so sweetly. he presses a soft kiss to your swollen bud before flattening his tongue against it, drawing circles there. he groans when your slickness coat his chin.
you whine when his eyes shift up to meet yours and push yourself against him even further. he chuckles against your skin, but truth be told, he's just as eager as you are. he slips one long finger inside of you, relishing in how easily you take it.
"oh—" you cry out as he adds another finger, his tongue pressing against you just a little harder.
his other hand is gripping your thigh roughly, the flesh spilling between his fingers. one of your arms is supporting your weight, but the other reaches out, your fingers threading through his hair.
you're panting now, tugging on his white locks in pleasure. he moans in response and the way your walls are clenching around him lets him know you're close. "c'mon baby, cum for me."
that's all it takes for you to unravel, his name falling from your lips over and over. he doesn't stop until he's sure you've come down from your high.
"you tasted so perfect," he tells you, unbuckling his pants in a hurry and shoving them down his legs.
his shirt and boxers follow quickly thereafter, so you pull your dress over your head. you can't tear your eyes away from his cock, it's long and thick and pretty.
he pushes you back against the bed and crawls on top of you, but then he just stares down at your face. just as you begin to wonder if something is wrong—
"you're so fucking beautiful. have i ever told you that?"
your mind reels for an answer, but you don't have to worry about it for long, as his lips capture yours. you can taste yourself on his tongue
"tell me what you want," he murmurs against your lips as he moves his cock along your slit, coating himself in your wetness.
"need you, 'toru. p-please, i need you to fuck me."
he smiles against your lips as he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing inside slowly. he leans back to find that your eyes are screwed shut and your lips are parted in bliss. he's determine to seer the image into his mind forever.
splitting you open is absolute ecstasy, the noises he's making are proof enough of that. "fuck, princess. fuck."
he nearly whimpers when he bottoms out. "god, you feel so perfect. i could stay in this pussy forever."
your legs wrap around his waist once he begins to pump in and out. "never felt so full, 'toru. it feels s'good."
he shudders at your words and laces his fingers with yours, sweat beading on his forehead as he picks up his pace. his head dips down, his teeth nipping the skin of your neck aggressively.
"p-people are gonna see—"
"i want them to," he rumbles. "want everyone to know how good i made this tight little pussy feel."
you can't argue with him, not when this is the best anyone's ever made you feel. his head shifts even lower, his tongue moving along your nipples in a way that has your back arching off the bed.
he uses the opportunity to snake an arm beneath your lower back, holding your body against himself firmly. the new angle has you mewling his name in the most sinful way.
"you're takin' me so well. like you were made for this cock."
your head's lolling to the side as you fall to pieces beneath him and he can feel himself getting close. "look at me when i fuck you, baby."
you do as he asks, his hips stuttering when he sees the tears of pleasure swimming in your eyes. "you're mine, aren't you? tell me you're mine."
your pussy clenches around his cock so tight it's almost painful. "i'm yours, 'toru. all yours."
"fuck, that's my good girl. gonna cum for me again, hm?"
you nod up at him meekly, too far gone for words, but he doesn't seem to mind this time.
"'i'm close too, sweetheart." his fingers reach down to rub circles on your clit, eliciting a throaty moan from you.
you feel your stomach tighten and you're nearly there, but you don't go over the edge until he begs, "can i fill you up? want to so bad."
you can't find the strength to respond, so you hope the way you tighten your legs around his waist and claw at his back is answer enough.
your head rolls to the side once more, your vision going fuzzy around the edges. he grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning you to face him. "please, baby. wanna see you when i cum—"
he hums your name through a choked moan, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reaches his own high. he collapses on top of you, laying there for a moment before pulling out and rolling onto his back beside you.
no words are shared, both of you trying to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. the silence gives your mind a chance to wander, which is never a good thing.
you consider the fact that gojo's never kept a girl around for more than a week or two— that this probably meant way more to you than it did to him. you sit up feeling stupid and wrap your arms around your chest.
you look around the room in search of your panties, his cum running down your thighs when you stand up to grab them. it's not until you pull them up your legs that he opens his eyes. he props himself up on his elbow, furrowing his eyebrows when you pick up your dress.
"what are you doing?" he asks curiously.
"well, i figured i should go back to my room—"
"what, are you crazy?" he gawks at you. "get your ass back in this bed."
you approach him shyly, your apprehension clear to him. "i mean, you can if you want, but why would you go back to your room?"
"i just didn't know if you... you know.."
"no, i don't know." if you knew him any less, you might think he was intent on torturing you, but it's clear to you that he's genuinely confused.
you sigh. "i just didn't know what this meant for us."
"baby, i didn't think i could make it any more clear." he sits up to grab you by the wrist, tugging you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist. "i'm all yours, so you're stuck with me." he tries to mask the nervousness in his voice when he asks, "is that okay with you?"
you nod, hiding your face in his neck. "took you long enough."
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frenchkisstheabyss · 8 months
Text
♡ SKZ Members Who'd Love Sleeping On Your Belly ♡
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♡ All of the love to @skz-story-request-always-open for asking me to do this adorably fluffy request ♡
While I'm sure any of our OT8 cuties would love cuddling up to a soft belly, these are the four who I think would be in absolute heaven if you let them do it.
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♡ Felix ♡
You let him fall asleep on your belly once and he's refused to do anything else since. At this point, if you even joke about not letting him do it you'll break his heart
Seriously, you can offer him the fluffiest of pillows and he won't touch them because nothing's more comfy than dozing off on you with his favorite song or show in the background
It's never unexpected when he lays on you because he tends to come running at you full force with his arms open and his face lit up, making cute little noises that let you know it's time for cuddles
As much as he enjoys your softness, what really makes it special to him is the closeness and vulnerability he feels when he's curled up against you with your arm around his neck, fingers playing with his hair as sleep takes him
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♡ Bang Chan ♡
His reputation as someone who rarely sleeps is unshakable at this point, insomnia's basically a part of his lore, but he's out like a light the second his cheek meets your belly
Something that always gets him is when you come up beside him while he's working and stroke his cheek, letting him lean his head on you. As someone who's responsible for taking care of so many people, it's nice when it's his turn to be cared for
He can, will, and has fallen asleep in the sitting position because you're so comfy, and having you in his presence is incredibly peaceful for him, quieting the thoughts swirling around in his mind
Nothing's cuter than the look on his face when you wake him up enough to make it to the bed or couch where he can truly settle in, interlocking his body with yours so that you can't go anywhere
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♡ Binnie ♡
This man's obsession with sleeping on your belly is the precise reason why you wake up with random body aches some days
He doesn't care where you are, what you're doing, or what time of day it is. If he feels himself nodding off, he has to find a way to get you into any position necessary for him to get to it
Clearly, he's not particular about if you guys are bent sideways to make it happen but he does have preferences when it comes to what you wear. His favorite thing to see you in is a t-shirt because it means his hands get easier access to squishing your belly
There's nothing remotely sexual about his habit of slipping his hand under your shirt to play with your belly. It's relaxing for him. It also helps that you giggle when he does it a certain way. He could never get tired of that
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♡ Han ♡
He never gets a better night's rest than when he's using your belly as a pillow but going to sleep's rarely, if ever, what he had in mind when he first laid down
It's a good thing though because, with all of the energy he has, he can start to feel burnt out at times and he always knows he can come to you as a safe space to restore his energy since you don't really want anything from him other than, well, him
Even though it's technically your stomach he goes feral if anyone tries to peel him away from you. You're his baby and he's gonna cling to you for dear life for as long as he can
His belly might not be as soft as yours but he constantly insists that you lay on him too so that he can hold you and sing you to sleep, watching over you to make sure you sleep as peacefully as he does
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a-hazbin-reader · 1 month
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I had an alastor ask you can ignore this but what about an alastor x wife!reader where one day one of the readers old friends from their living days manifest in hell it can be angsty or fluffy but I just really wanna see how you think alastor would react to suddenly remembering that the reader had a whole different life before hell and before him
You're an amazing write and I wanna see your take on this, if not thats ok too !! Have a lovely day 🩷
Ooh this is just juicy-
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Alastor being sad, Alastor being jealous
Description: 👆⬆️
Look, Alastor is a smart man who knows you had a life before you met him, before you died
He knows this, he also had a life before you
A rather violent one towards the end there, but still...
But when one of your friends from when you were alive suddenly runs into you???? It suddenly feels like that previous life is coming to slap him in the face
"Y/N? Is that you?"
The way your face lights up with familiarity and you two rush to hug each other, obviously close
It makes him...feel something bad...
The conversation with your friend starts out simple and innocent enough, the two of you catching up with each other
You introduce your husband and Alastor can tell that your friend is surprised, probably not expecting you to be shacked up with the radio demon himself
He preens with your introduction, ready to hear your friend either gush about your amazing husband or shrink away in fear of him
Or at least that's what Alastor assumes the shocked look means
But then your friend mentions something about an old flame of yours and Alastor just kinda??? Gets a white hot flash of anxiety??
You get visibly upset at the mention of them, mumbling something to your friend that Alastor can't hear because he's not listening
You're scolding your friend for bringing up someone you hardly even thought about anymore, someone so unimportant in comparison to your husband
You had someone before him?? Someone you loved and cared about before you died and became stuck in hell?
Would you still go to them now if you had the choice? No, you wouldn't, he's one of the strongest demons in hell. Why would you leave him?
Because you loved people for more than that...
Then your friend is talking to him about your life when you were alive, telling him every stupid, funny, kind thing you did
Everything you enjoyed without him in your life
He's stuck in his own head and hurting his own feelings, the smile on his face painfully tight
"Alastor? Darling?"
Your concerned voice and gentle squeeze on his arm brings him back to reality, your friend having already left without his realizing
"Are you alright? You got quiet on me and that's not like you..."
And he's back to being his charming self, squashing down his ugly emotions
"My apologies my dear~! I just suddenly remembered I must meet Rosie today!"
He's gone before you can even question it, leaving you with a sinking feeling in your gut
The next few days after that Alastor is distant from you even though he's trying to play it off as being busy
Everyone at the hotel can see it and think that you two must be having a fight
You have to reassure them that no, mommy and daddy aren't fighting
He's been off ever since you ran into your friend and they brought up-
...your past...
Oh that stupid man of yours
It takes a lot of work to corner Alastor, he's stupidly clever and always has an excuse to avoid you
You however, did NOT become his wife by giving up easily
One time, he even straight up turned around and ran from you
And you almost fucking caught him if he hadn't cheated and melted away into the shadows
But you manage to catch him in his radio tower, using all your demonic power to sneak up on him
He jumps at the feeling of your arms draping around his neck from behind, feeling your lips on his temple
He's missed being so close to you, he really has
"We need to talk, darling one..."
This is exactly what he's been avoiding though, trying to get his uncomfortable feelings to go away so things can go back to normal between you two
"What is there to talk about, my dear~?"
He's pulling you into his lap, uncharacteristically enthusiastic about giving you affection all of a sudden, kissing up your neck and rubbing your thighs
You know he's trying to seduce you to get out of having to talk about his feelings so you stop him, placing a firm hand on his chest
"You've been avoiding me ever since we ran into my friend."
He visibly cringes at being so obviously caught, his smile strained, sharp teeth clenched tight
"I've simply been busy, I'm sorry if I've been neglecting my little wife..."
He's going in for another kiss, but you pull away with reluctance, you're attracted to your husband after all
You pull on his cheek and sigh, hugging his neck as you lean back to look at him
"Alastor, you know I hate it when you lie to me..."
Now he feels bad, he hates disappointing his wife like this...
"I suppose I have been a bit out of sorts..."
So he does his best to explain to you his uncertainty in your life, wondering if you've simply settled for him because you died
If you would choose your old life over him if ever given the chance, or leave him for a chance at heaven with people from your old life
He won't look at you the entire time he says this, leaning into you and hiding his face in your neck
Just run your fingers through his hair, maybe rub his ears a little, and listen to him vent
He doesn't like being open and vulnerable
"Oh darling, I didn't even know what love really was until I met you. Being here in hell with you has been more fulfilling than any life I had before..."
Not him making a little deer bleat before growling out of embarrassment, clutching you a little tighter
"You wouldn't-"
"Alastor, if anybody even tries to make me leave you, I'll kill them myself."
That makes him chuckle, leaning back to finally look at you
"Oh, you twisted wonderful wife~"
He's literally immediately back to himself after that, almost as though none of it ever happened
You're always surprised by how quickly your husband recovers
Maybe it's just because he trusts you so much, your words alone were enough to reassure him of his place in your world
You meant every word
When your friend comes back to visit you, Alastor actually engages with them this time
He wants to know more about who you used to be now that his confidence in his marriage has been restored
The dude is literally walking around like he got laid for the first time
Angel...shut up...
Holds you close to him the entire time, relaxed as he listens to you and your friend go on about old times
"Wait...you jumped out of a third story window? While being chased by a man with one leg?"
"And LIVED!"
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SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET TO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT
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irisintheafterglow · 5 months
Text
it's all me, just don't go (meet me in the afterglow)
summary: satoru is jealous but refuses to admit it.
wc: 1.2k
cw/tags: gojo x reader, arguing, miscommunication, angst/comfort, established relationship, lowercase because this was originally going to be a short answer to a request but ended up being 1k+ words (oops)
note: welcome back gojo nation, today i offer angst that started as a fluffy co-parenting megumi prompt and turned into...this. based on the jealousy prompts from @creativepromptsforwriting !! hope you enjoy :D
likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3
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"you think i'm jealous? jealousy is not in my vocabulary, babe."
"mhmm, sure. you're not jealous and the sky isn't blue," you fire back without hesitation. what started as a petty argument was beginning to boil your blood a little too hot for comfort, and you couldn't pinpoint why. thoughts poked around in your mind of your boyfriend's arrogance, the need to be the best, and simultaneous fear that you were going to leave him. but, in true satoru fashion, he chose to be an enigma instead of communicating.
"i'm literally the strongest being in existence," he argues and you catch your eye twitch in the rearview mirror. "what would i have to be jealous about?" a part of you wanted to just slam on the brakes to see if he'd go flying forward but decided against it because of the other occupants in the car. as much as they tried to act like they weren't listening, the two kids in the back weren't very good at hiding their snickers of amusement. "like, really. i'm super hot, i'm super strong, i've got the voice of an angel-"
"i'm just saying, satoru. your behavior back there was...weird. i didn't like it," you mutter.
"and i didn't like how that guy was looking at you like you were some kind of dessert in a pastry shop," he counters. "i just...it's fine. you don't get it." your stomach churns unexpectedly at his tone and there's a sharp pain in your heart that you don't anticipate. you know he didn't mean it, but the sternness of his voice was sounding more hostile the longer you talked with him. it made your face hot, not in that butterflies and daydreams kind of way that he normally made you feel. this feeling was foreign and intense, a sensation that made you want to curl up and hide. it was the same feeling as when you were about to exorcise a curse.
when you were about to fight.
"what's that supposed to mean?" the atmosphere of the car changes in an instant and you can feel the effect your five words have on every occupant of the vehicle. megumi and tsumiki's gazes dart upward, eyeing you nervously while a robotic stiffness shoots through satoru's body. "what do i not get?"
"it's nothing," he grits through his teeth, but you're too angry to back down.
"it's not nothing, so spill it," you say and his jaw clenches. "why are you so jealous of some dude at the grocery store?"
"i said i wasn't jealous."
"your actions are saying otherwise." you start relying more on your instinct to drive you back towards jujutsu tech because your brain was starting to shut down.
"what, you don't believe me? why don't you just trust me?" he's on the verge of shouting at you. he never shouts at you. it terrifies you and it makes the two kids in the second row shift uneasily in their car seats. you don't know what else to say; your mind was preoccupied with not crashing the car and trying not to cry from the stifling pressure in the car.
"i-i don't like you right now," you force out. it's the wrong thing to say and you can sense satoru snap before he does.
"please, be my guest. go with your little cashier if you like him so much better," he spits and your body moves before you can register what it's doing. one minute, you're driving down the street toward the school; the next, you're turning into the nearest mini-mall parking lot, putting the car in park, and slamming the driver's side door behind you. you don't know where else to go, but all you know is that you can't stay in that car with satoru when he's like that. he'd never do anything to hurt megs or tsumiki, but being on the road in such a compromised mental state wasn't safe for any of you. so, you start walking.
the sun was nearly down and you knew it would be faster if you just sucked it up and drove the rest of the way, but something about this petty little fight was bringing up memories you didn't want to rehash. after you make it past the first stoplight, the telltale hum of your car's engine pulls up next to you, coming to a stop while you continue in the direction of the school. punching the hazards button, he jumps from the driver's seat onto the sidewalk to call after you, but you shake your head.
"babe. babe, please get back in the car," he pleads and you keep walking. "i'm sorry. please, come back in the car. i'll drive us the rest of the way and we can talk."
"it's fine," you state firmly without looking at him, "i'll walk back."
"i made a mistake. please, please come back in the car." he gently grabs your wrist to stop you and you shoot him a brutal glare from the corner of your eye, seeing him deflate in real-time. "please." smaller footsteps approach from behind him, and your senses snap back into place when you see that megumi and tsumiki followed satoru out of the car.
"he was stupid," tsumiki says and her brother nods in agreement, "really stupid."
"and if you're walking back to school, we're walking with you," megumi declares and the sentiment is enough to finally get you back in the passenger seat, staring out the window for the few agonizing minutes remaining of the drive. once you've turned on the tv and stuck a frozen dinner in the oven for the two children, you make your way to the bathroom to wash your face of its still-burning sensation. you've just finished drying your face in front of the mirror when he trudges in like a kicked puppy. you feel him before you see him, his arms wrapping around your torso and his face disappearing into your neck.
"i'm so sorry," he whispers and you swallow a thick lump in your throat. "i'm so sorry for what i said and what i did and how i made you feel. you were right; i was jealous. just...seeing you live out such a mundane scene as buying groceries reminded me that you could have anyone you wanted." you turn to face him with a puzzled look.
"what do you mean, anyone i wanted?"
"you could be with anyone you wanted," he says quietly. "anyone but me."
"oh," is all you can choke out before you pull him as close as humanly possible, holding him so tightly that he'd be a fool to think you would ever want anyone else.
"you could have any life you wanted," his voice breaks against your skin. "not one where our best friends die before they reach 20 or disappear off the face of the planet. you don't need to have this one. you don't need to stay with me."
"has it ever occurred to you, satoru," you murmur, "that maybe i want to stay with you? forever and after that?"
"why would you do that to yourself?"
"loving you is not a burden, gojo satoru. i would find you in any lifetime and i would love you in every single one," you vow and your chest aches when he sniffles softly.
"i don't deserve you. i really don't."
"maybe you do, maybe you don't, but that's not up to me to decide. so, it doesn't matter because i'm staying."
"you'll stay?"
"forever and after that."
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if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
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strawberrysturniolo · 3 months
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fic reqqq
can you pretty pretty please write a fluffy kind of sleep aid fic w chris where yall cuddle in bed tgth and u start snoozing and he tucks u in and everything🫶 np if not your writing is actually so bomb like everytime i see a new post from u i start foaming @ the mouth like a rabid dog and gnawing on my enclosure 😭
sleepy // bf!chris
soft chris
summary: you spend the day filming with your boyfriend and his brothers and can't wait to go home and snuggle in bed with him.
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The entirety of my day has been spent following my boyfriend, Chris, and his brothers around while they film. 
We started our day by getting lunch at a local diner, did some shopping afterwards at a flea market, then finished the night off with a few rounds at Top Golf.
“Good job, babe!” I cheer my boyfriend on as he makes a perfect swing.
He turns around grinning before handing his club to his brother, Matt. “That was pretty good, right?!” He sits down next to me and tosses his arm around my shoulder. I tilt my head to the left so it lays perfectly on him, and he pulls me closer, kissing the top of my head. When his other brother, Nick, leaves the table to film Matt’s turn, Chris leans into me, whispering, “I really appreciate you coming out with us today.”
My exhaustion is evident. I thoroughly enjoy spending time with them on days where they are filming, and while I’m usually hidden somewhere off-camera to maintain privacy, it’s still fun to watch my boyfriend do something he loves, and interesting to see him at work. I have to say, walking around all day so they can get content in, and now sitting down watching them golf only reminds me of how tired I am. 
“Sleepy, baby?” he asks, nudging me lightly when he sees my eyes falling shut. 
“Mhm,” I hum into his shoulder. 
“I’m sorry. I know it’s been a long day.”
He uses his left hand to carefully push my hair out of my face, using his other hand to pull me closer to him, falling asleep right at the table. 
“Alright Chris,” Nick calls out. “It’s your turn, come on.”
I can feel Chris’ head turn a few times, looking between me and his brothers. “Can you go for me? I don’t really want to get up.”
I struggle to push myself up because of how tired I am, but I manage. “No, go play. We’re almost done anyway. I just need to stick it out until we get home and I’ll sleep well tonight.” 
“Are you sure?” 
I nod, not wanting to kill the mood for them. 
He delicately kisses my forehead before tossing his arms around his brothers, his energy back to 100% when the camera is on him.
One thing about Chris is, no matter how private he wants our relationship to be, he will always find a way to show some sort of PDA when we’re around people. Whether it’s holding my hand, putting an arm around me, having me wear his clothes. He may not fully makeout with me in a public setting, but he’ll still kiss my forehead and hold me in his arms so everyone can see how much he loves me without losing an element of our intimacy. 
The boys finish up their game, and when we head back to Matt’s car, he suggests we go to get a late breakfast tonight. I of course am mid-yawn when this comes up.
“Why don’t we head home?” Chris counters. “We already have a lot of footage from today, and if we need more we still have tomorrow.”
Matt groans, but when Nick sees me half-asleep in the backseat next to him, he sides with Chris. “He’s right. Let me work through this footage tonight and see if we need to go back out tomorrow before we end up with an hour long vlog that will take me an extra day to edit.”
I end up passing out asleep on the drive back despite it only being 15 minutes. I’m lightly shaken awake and greeted by my boyfriend’s hushed whisper. 
“Baby, let’s get you inside okay? We’re home and you can sleep in bed.” He unbuckles my seatbelt and carefully leads me out of the car and inside the house, guiding me downstairs with his arm around me. “Go change into your pajamas.”
I pull out a Fresh Love set from his closet and toss my clothes from today into the hamper while Chris is in the bathroom. He comes out with makeup wipes and pulls one from the package. 
“I can do that,” I say quietly. 
“No, I want to.” He flattens out the makeup wipe and gently rubs my face with it, checking it every few seconds to make sure the product is coming off on it. “You’ve had a long day and it’s partly my fault. Let me do this and then you can brush your teeth and wash your face.”
Another minute passes before Chris discards the now used makeup wipe into the trash. I then head into the bathroom and wash off any remaining makeup and brush my teeth, climbing into bed once I’m done. 
Chris follows me through all those steps, laying in bed next to me and smirking at my choice of pajamas. “I love when you wear these.” I have no energy left in me to speak. I simply nod and hope he can read my mind. His fingers trace my face as I doze off, slowly going in and out of my slumber. His arms wrap around me and pull me into him, and my face nuzzles into his chest. He uses one hand to push the covers into our bodies, tucking us in and keeping us warm while the ceiling fan balances the temperature out. 
He places one more kiss on my head as he rubs his hands over my back.
“I love you so much,” he whispers into my hair. 
I mumble a muffled, “I love you,” back to him before falling asleep for the night, the last thing I remember being him holding me tight and feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. 
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sleepymarimo · 7 months
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𝕨𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤
summary: he didn't mean to push you away so harshly, to build his walls so high, but he didn't expect you to go running to someone else... pairing: zoro x reader, slight law x reader cw: unrequited feelings (or are they?), angst, no comfort an: set in wano, with some minor tweaks! thought of this last night and had to share my pain...oops also, i plan to have some fluffy straw hat stuff out this weekend ♡( ◡‿◡ ) wc: 3.4k
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you'd been harboring feelings for your vice captain, for a while. you never acted on it, his aloof nature making you too nervous to make that jump- to try. even then, you were sure that he had more pressing matters to attend to.
so, you kept it under wraps. you trained and laughed and did everything you were supposed to, did everything right, without letting your feelings get too much in the way. it was manageable, and it made you feel good that you could support your crew, even if it meant holding onto your feelings.
it was the little things that gave you away to him. how your eyes darted away a bit too quickly when he met your gaze, how you sometimes intentionally stood farther away from him in a bid to look inconspicuous, even though it made it so much more obvious. he was as dumb as a rock sometimes, yeah, but not when it came to his crew, not when it came to you. he knew. of course he knew, but he had no reason to call you out on it. clearly you didn't want to discuss it and, as long as it wasn't getting in the way of anything major, he could bear it. it was when your emotions served as a distraction, that things became complicated.
the land of wano brought with it many challenges. most where physical, be it sneaking around the shady capital or handling some rowdy criminals. having crew members split up also made you worried, only heightening your senses and making your brain run rampant with what ifs. it all comes to a sudden standstill when you and brook, on your way to the safe house, walk in on zoro. one of the most beautiful women you've ever seen is snuggled right into his side and you feel a twinge of envy.
your heart does a somersault in your chest, something twisting in your gut at the unusual sight. a part of you, the rational side, knows very well that zoro didn't let people into his personal space with such ease. yet, even with her explanation, your mood can't help but sour. it only worsens when you all sit down and discuss more pressing matters.
the stresses of wano, this whole hiyori situation and her ever present enthusiasm towards the swordsman has you itching to escape. your responses become curt and your hands twitch in your lap. it's not how you should be acting, not given the circumstances, but you can't help it. finally, when there's a break in the conversation, you politely dismiss yourself.
once outside, you take a deep breath and collect your thoughts. leaning against the wall of the safe house, you let out a sigh and stare off at some random point in the distance in a bid to quell your passive aggressive behavior. the sound of the door opening catches you off guard, your arms crossing over your chest as the swordsman approaches you with a hardened expression.
"the hell is up with that look on your face?" he'd grumble, his cold demeanor matching the chill in the air. his arms are crossed, his posture tense. while zoro was one to take things as they came, focusing on the present, he couldn't deny that wano and its secrets were gnawing at him as well. he was irritated, wondering why you'd even bother to think about something as miniscule as feelings while there were enemies and actual threats lurking about. when you don't answer, when he figures you wouldn't even have the guts to bring it up, he huffs. "you think I asked to be cuddled up to like a damn toy?" his eye narrows and he takes a step closer, challenging you. "I don't have feelings for her, or anyone, got it?" the lump in your throat is too large to swallow and you nod, incapable of much else. a torrent of sensations swirl in your chest: embarrassment that he'd been aware of your feelings this whole time, guilt for letting them get in the way, and a bitter resounding sting that came with rejection. with a click of his tongue, he turns back and heads into the safe house, mumbling something about pulling yourself together and focusing on what's important.
you're almost glad when zoro ends up splitting off with hiyori later on, your mind flooded with thoughts. in a bid to defend yourself from further pain, you get your act together and squash down those feelings. you do well to put on a brave and happy face, deciding that, yes, there are some more important matters to attend to.
despite that, it's still hard not to see the samurai a bit differently. you knew he was blunt, even harsh at moments, but his approach to such a sensitive topic was a little much for you to handle. even if his words held some truth, that there were more pressing matters to attend to, the delivery of it just made you feel uneasy and hurt. the rest of your encounters are just as quick, your words just as clipped. if you acted any differently towards him, it wasn't out of malice. subconsciously, you defend yourself from further embarrassment and give him the distance you think he needs. while the chaos ensues, your defense mechanism only serves as a temporary solution. once the dust settled, it would be a different story.
finally, when the horrors of wano are dealt with, you can breathe a minor sigh of relief. in the flower capital, alongside your crew mates, you patiently wait for luffy and zoro to awaken from their slumbers. when they finally do, the air feels lighter
in the wake of it all, your emotions catch up to you, which makes you feel worse since this was supposed to be a joyful moment. it's hard to fight that initial instinct, to head over to zoro and ask if he's alright or if he needs anything. yet, you force yourself to take a step back, even if it does look like his bandages need tending to. it's a lot easier to do so once hiyori reveals that she was the one to help bathe him while he was unconscious, your stomach churning as you look away and walk to a different corner of the room. clearly he had someone looking out for him already. with a polite and slightly forced smile on your face, you find yourself heading over to law, who sits in the corner and chooses to observe the moment rather than partake in any conversation. you'd gotten along well with the surgeon, your relationship only growing stronger as he spent more time with the straw hats. he respected your skills and your perceptiveness, your ability to adapt to the needs of those around you and make them feel at ease. when he hears you approaching, he's naturally wary, but relents and gives you a nod, saying your name as a way of greeting you. satisfied, you take a seat next to him and raise a hand to gesture at his arm. "I know you're a surgeon and all, but d'ya think I can help you with your bandages?" you ask him, sincere and with a soft smile. "y'know, before this whole alliance thing is over and all..." he wants to say no, but the genuine kindness in your eyes has him huffing and looking away. a reddish hue tinges his cheeks and he holds out his arm. "go ahead." his tone fights to maintain its usual indifference, though there's a hint of appreciation laced in. on the opposite side of the room, where hiyori 'fixed' his bandages much too tight, zoro glances over at you. he notes the way you visibly relax around the surgeon, an action that has him growing irritated. he was your crew mate, your nakama, someone who would keep you safe, not that second rate captain. when the bandages cut off his circulation, he growls in frustration and tears some of them off. why weren't you over here doing this for him, when you knew exactly how he liked his bandages? why were you tending to law so gently and giving him that smile, the one you hadn't given him in ages? the swordsman isn't blind. he's been aware of the distance you've put between the two of you, how your 'smile' drops as soon as you turn away from him. as the battles had come to an end, he's now forced to recall the events which occurred at the safe house. he curses as his own shortcomings, his inability to think twice about his actions and how they'll affect the future. turning his attention towards something else, he mentally chides himself. what did he care, after all? he didn't do the whole relationship thing, the whole soft and squishy feelings. he was a swordsman, he had a goal and a crew to protect, including you. his thoughts do little to fight off the twinge of possessiveness he feels when he instinctively looks in your direction and catches sight of you holding law's hand as you secured his bandage. something gnaws at his pride, but he pushes it aside for the sake of maintaining his stoic front.
once everyone is healed, a festival, a grand one, is thrown to celebrate the liberation of wano. lanterns illuminate almost every corner, the scent of food wafting through the air as citizens and samurai and pirates all gather around.
dressed in a lovely kimono of your choice, you're more than eager to join in the revelry. the two bottles of sake that you carry in your hands only highlights your enthusiasm. you'd been hanging around with the crew for a while, smiling and laughing, but your mind was elsewhere. zoro thinks, for a split second, that you'll hand him a bottle. despite his aloof nature, he'd always find himself sharing a drink with you at times like this. yet, when you walk in the opposite direction, your smile beaming, your words have him gritting his teeth. "m'gonna go have a drink with law!" you chirp, your excitement palpable.
zoro's jaw clenches as he watches you walk off, his eyes lingering on your figure before he looks away. something simmers beneath the surface, but he keeps it at bay. it's nami's offhand comment that his frustration threatening to boil over.
"don't have too much fun!" she teases, throwing a cheeky smile your way. the others have the nerve to laugh, to egg you on, all while the swordsman relishes in how the alcohol burns his throat.
his knuckles turn white as he grips the neck of his sake bottle, the glass straining against his hold. a plethora of unfamiliar emotions rattle in his chest, but his bullheadedness and pride have him unwilling to budge, even if he wants to grab your arm and pull you back. it wasn't his place.
even when you're out of sight, his eyes subconsciously work to peer through the crowd in an attempt to catch a glimpse of your kimono, your hair, anything. once again, he scolds himself. he had no place to be so... so what? envious? possessive? he was the one to turn you away, after all. regardless, he can't get your smile out of his head. memories of you flood his mind: the banter and the sparring matches at sunset. all of it. just as quickly, he catches himself, bringing his lips to the bottle in a bid to drown out the bitterness on his tongue.
it's nearly a full hour later when you return to the crew, more than buzzed and clinging to the arm of the raven-haired surgeon. he doesn't seem to mind, his furrowed brows and his apathetic expression doing little to hide the blush dusting his cheeks.
glad to be in the company of your crew mates once more, you turn to law and wrap your arms around his waist, your smile so genuine and radiant it makes zoro's chest ache. "thank you traffy!"
the laughter of the rest of the crew echoes in zoro's ears alongside his own thundering heartbeat and boiling blood. what the hell were you doing? a knot forms in his chest, the unfamiliar sensation bringing him a great sense of unease.
he has to force himself to look away, before he realizes that it's not enough. without excusing himself, he stands and walks off towards a more secluded part of the festival. he needs to get away from whatever all that is. he needs to clear his head and heart and steel himself because he shouldn't be focusing on such things.
if you were any more sober, you would've kept your distance. however, it's in your nature to care, to worry and ensure that your crew mates are okay. that's why, as soon as you register the fact that the swordsman is gone, you release your hold on the surgeon and follow after zoro.
it's almost silent, save for the sounds of the festival off in the distance. the streets in this part of the capital aren't as illuminated, but cast enough of a glow for you to see zoro up ahead.
"zoro?" you mumble, attentive despite the alcohol in your system. "what're you doin' all the way out here?" your words are so genuine and full of concern, which makes it all the harder for zoro to respond.
"huh? what does it look like?" he roughly replies, not even bothering to fully face you as he turns his head to the side. "needed a break from all the noise and drunken idiots."
something bubbles in his throat, a lump of guilt that he swallows for the sake of self-preservation. he knows he has no right to be so callous, but can't help the passive-aggressive comment that slips past his lips. "why don't you just go off with that surgeon of yours? seems like better company."
your stomach drops and you take a step back. something wedges itself into your chest, a sense of anxiety and confusion as your mind briefly flickers back to that moment at the safe house. you'd done everything right, hadn't you? you'd given him space and pushed your feelings aside for the sake of the mission, so why this?
your heart starts to race, unable to look him in the eye as you focus your gaze to the side.
"why're you bein' so mean to me...?" you murmur, your hands nervously fidgeting as you await his answer. you just wanted to make things right.
he has to turn away once he catches the hurt on your face. if you were any more sober, you would've caught how he was the one that was truly nervous. the way you threatened to break down the walls he had built for himself has him needing to take control, even if that meant pushing you away.
"m'just being honest." he says, sharper than he means to. "leave me alone. go and enjoy the rest of the damn festival."
regret and longing make his chest throb, but he keeps on his mask of indifference as he takes a step forward and away from you. he wouldn't budge, couldn't.
meanwhile, you stand there, your inhales slowly turning short and ragged. your lips tremble and you fight to hold back sobs, but shortly after, you start to sniffle.
you hated crying, really crying. the crew had seen you shed silly little tears before, maybe over something cute or emotional, but not this. it's something you usually hide away and display in private, but the nature of the situation and the influence of the alcohol have you shedding an uncontrollable amount of tears.
though you shouldn't be, the utter vulnerability of the moment has you feeling embarrassed. you find solace in your sleeves, the kimono becoming damp with tears that don't seem to end. your cheeks sting, rubbed raw as you hide away from him.
zoro's heart drops.
the sound of your sobs is devastating. guilt claws at his chest, threatening to crack him open. when he turns around, all he can feel is regret. the weight of his words, how he treated you, is almost unbearable and makes him feel disgusted with himself.
his mind is racing, wondering what he should do or say to fix this, but he can't come up with an answer. before he can do anything, his mind goes blank at your next words.
"I wish I never got feelings for you." you choke out, unsure if your words are genuine or if you simply wanted to hurt the swordsman. with your shoulders trembling, you continued to cry into your sleeves. "I should've figured that there was nothing in that heart of yours."
deciding that you couldn't stand being in the same vicinity as him anymore, you run off.
he watches you go, his heart screaming at him to go after you, but he can't. the walls crumble and he can't hide anymore, forcing himself to realize that he cares for you so much that it terrifies him. the air is thick with tension, your sobs echoing through the air until they fade away, replaced by the distant sounds of the festival.
regret, self-loathing and longing all swirl in his chest, a torrent of emotion that threatens to swallow him whole.
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you don't make it back to the ship that night.
you're too embarrassed and ashamed, not feeling safe enough to be vulnerable. you mentally apologize to the crew, hoping that they aren't too worried.
it isn't until the next morning that you return, or rather, you're returned.
the sun barely peeks over the horizon when law walks aboard the thousand sunny go with you cradled in his arms. you're in a deep sleep, completely exhausted and hungover. you're dressed in some of his clothes, your expression peaceful despite what occurred the night before.
other members of the crew gather around, worried about your well-being, but law is quick to say that you were just hungover and must have gotten lost. however, zoro can tell by the sharp look that law gives him that there was more to the story.
the vice captain grits his teeth, shoulders tensing as he watches law gently carry you over to your quarters.
a part of zoro wants to force law to give him answers, to tear you out of his arms so he could cradle you in his. he should've been the one to care for you, to protect you when you were vulnerable, but he hurt you instead. something else nags at him, the fact that you sought solace in someone else's arms.
law comes out of your room, quietly closing the door before walking down the deck. as he walks by zoro, he doesn't stop, but he shoots him another hardened glare. "you're an idiot, roronoa-ya."
oh, zoro knows.
when you finally awaken, you put on a brave face and tell the rest of the crew that you were sorry about your little slip up. you do well to cover it up with a laugh and smile. you build walls of your own, adamant on not getting hurt again.
it's once the crew is happy and satisfied that you make your way back to your room, your head hanging low as you walk by zoro.
your legs come to a stop and you can only hold his gaze for a second before you look away, just wanting to put this chapter behind you. the ache in your chest grows as you wonder what could've been. your voice is small. "look..." you start, hands bunching up into the borrowed shirt you're wearing. "let's just forget this ever happened and stay friends... alright?"
'forget?' he thinks. 'how can I forget that look on your face? the sounds of your sobs? do you think i'd let you go so easily?'
yet, despite the war raging on inside of him, the words stay stuck in his throat.
"yeah." what am i saying? "just friends."
as he watches you walk back to your room, he feels defeated. pathetic. he wants to say more, to show you that he can be the man you deserve, but for now, he sinks back into his usual habits and wonders what could have been.
he knows that he let something precious slip away.
steeling himself, he holds his heavy heart high. a sliver of determination cuts through his clouded mind and he hopes that, one day, he can make things right.
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rogueddie · 2 months
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Hair Care T | 1,749 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is what makes you brave
Steve learnt early on that if he makes his hair all soft, fluffy and big, then girls would play with his hair. He's always loved having people touching his hair.
But after the Demogorgon, after he gets his act together? Suddenly, no one wants to touch his hair. No one comments on it, or even looks at it like they're so much as thinking about it.
And it is driving Steve insane.
"I can't just ask for it!" He complains. "That's weird and- and what if they take it the wrong way? What if I sound too weird or desperate?"
"I'm the wrong person for the weird complaint," Eddie points out. "And I still don't get the problem. What about Robin?"
Robin is convinced that all his little lines, trying to encourage attention towards his hair as subtly as he can, are all pick-up lines.
To be fair to her, she has only ever seen him using said lines when he's flirting. But they're supposed to be little hints, a nudge and a wink. Friendly- playful even.
But, because of that, he has a nasty feeling that she would take any hint or request about his hair as romantic. And the last thing Steve wants to do is make Robin uncomfortable.
"Ok, yeah, I see the problem there," Eddie hums, considering. "What about the kids? El and Max. They adore you and love playing with each others hair."
El had asked to play with his hair once.
She'd heard, somehow, that his hair is 'famous' in Hawkins and had wanted to see why. She encouraged Max to join her, even though she mostly ended up petting him like a dog.
Max had seemed to enjoy it more than El, but not by much, and the snickers from the other kids had been enough for him to refuse to let them "go again".
He's the babysitter, he needs at least some dignity.
"But did you like it?" Eddie presses.
"Well, yeah," Steve mumbles, snuffing his slipper on the carpet. "It was nice or whatever. Not worth the jabs though."
"Why not?"
"I don't know. Didn't feel worth it."
"Hmm..." Eddie pauses again, frowning as he looks him over. "Well... what was it specifically about what they did that was so nice? Has anyone else done that for you?"
Tommy used to play with his hair constantly. He was a quick learner and, with how much Carol visibly and vocally enjoyed watching them, there wasn't any shame.
They both seemed to enjoy themselves more whenever they could convince Steve to sit on the floor, so Tommy could scratch at his head more effectively.
"Which..." Steve pauses, frowning. "In retrospect was probably some weird power play thing. Like, I was the king at school but a dog at home."
"Yikes."
"Yeah."
But they knew exactly what he liked and they were good at it.
Tommy knew that he loves the back of his ears scratched, likes the small strands at his neck tugged. He knew that Steve loved the feeling of fingers brushing his fringe back, especially when he'd get rough and push his head back a little with the motion.
They knew what he needed.
"Well... I could do that," Eddie suggests. "I mean... if you want. It's not like it would be a hardship."
"Really? You wouldn't be uncomfortable?"
"Not at all. As long as you're ok with it, it's all good."
"That- yeah. Yeah, I'm on with that."
That's how it starts.
Steve had sat on the floor, in front of the sofa where Eddie was sat. It reminded him of Tommy for a moment, but Eddie quickly brought him back to the moment with a hand on his shoulder.
"This alright for you?" He asked, squeezing gently when Steve nodded. "Alright. Just let me know if it's bad, too much or you want to stop."
"Okay."
He had thought that would be it, though. Moments when they hung out in private, a thing for them that no one else was allowed in on.
But Eddie starts playing with his hair. All the time.
If he can find an excuse, he abuses it. Even in Family Video, busy with people and customers lining up in front of Robin, right next to them. Eddie just... leans forward, reaches out and pushes his hair back.
He does it so casual, so out in the open, that- somehow- Robin is the only one who gives them a strange look.
On movie nights, he's started putting a pillow down on the floor between his feet. When Steve comes in with popcorn, Eddie gives it a pointed look and raises an eyebrow at him.
It's so much, so often. Steve loves it, has never been so happy for so long. It leaves him feeling high sometimes.
All good things, for him, come to an end though. And his comes in the form of Robin Buckley.
"I'm not saying I have a problem with any of it!" She clarifies, right off the bat. "If it's just a friendship thing, that's amazing. I love how happy you are, really, and I don't want that to go away, and I know-"
"Robs," Steve interrupts. "Slow down. I don't know what you're trying to say."
She stood, staring at him for a moment, seeming to vibrate with her need to speak, before finally blurting out-
"Are you and Eddie dating?"
"Wh- what? No, that's... no. Why do you, uhm, think that?"
"Steve," she whines. "I know about your hair lines, remember? One of them must have worked with how addicted he's got to yours."
"Oh, that... no, that's not what's happened. Those aren't lines, I just... I really like people playing with my hair."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Wait, that still sounds suspicious. He plays with your hair all the time because he knows how much you like it?"
"No one else was going to."
"Oh my god," she rolls her eyes, stepping closer so she lightly tug at his hair. "I would have been doing this all the time if I knew it was ok!"
"Oh, uh, sorry?"
"No apologies, just tell me when you started crushing on Munson."
"How-?"
"I know you, dingus. Apparently not as well as I had hoped I did, but I do. And you're gone on him. When. Did it start?"
The first time Steve realized that he was feeling more than 'friendship feelings' for Eddie was when he was eating at his new trailer.
Wayne had come home early and was surprised to see that Eddie had a guest over.
But Eddie was too busy jumping up, excited to introduce them, to notice.
"Wayne! This is Steve, I've told you about Steve, he's great," Eddie said. "Steve, this is my uncle, Wayne. He's amazing, don't worry, he doesn't bite."
Steve had quickly stood extending an arm, and introduced him properly. He made sure to add a quick 'sir' at the end.
Wayne had quickly dismissed the title, turning to Eddie with a fond look, and said, "what was it you called him? Pr-"
"Shut up," Eddie was fast to interrupt, hands waving around.
And Steve realized that he was feeling hope. He was filled with hope that Eddie had said what his uncle seemed to about to say.
He realized that he wanted Eddie to think of him as pretty. He wanted Eddie to find him so pretty that he told his uncle.
It was a warm feeling, fluttering through his stomach- a feeling that he is all too familiar with.
"I'm gagging," Robin says, monotone. "But that does help."
"Help? How?"
"Uh, because he's obviously into you too!"
"Robs, I don't know..."
"Come on, it'll be easy. He already likes you, so you don't have to try so hard. Just a little thing that lets him know you like him. One of your moves-"
"No, Robs... I'm sure that he likes me too, at least a little, that's not the problem."
"What is them?"
"I... I've never, like... been with a guy. What if I do it wrong?"
"Steve," Robin grabs both of his shoulders. "He likes you. All you have to be is yourself."
"I don't know if I c-"
"You can, and you will. We'll think of a plan that cannot fail, you'll put on your brave pants, and we'll kick this problems ass."
"My brave pants? It's brave face."
"No, I mean those pants that you're always saying make your ass look good. Those are your brave pants."
"... Ok, yeah, they are."
It doesn't take them long to settle in a plan. It's simple, easy. It shouldn't give Steve enough time to doubt himself.
Eddie arrives on time, knocking on the door at the exact time it turns four p.m.
"Hi!" Steve greets, wincing at how overenthusiastic he is. "Come in."
"You alright?"
"Yeah, fine, just... slow day. Too much energy. Come on, I made too much food earlier if you want some."
"You know I'll never turn down free food, Stevie."
Over dinner, Steve starts to finally relax. Eddie is, as always, easy to talk too.
When they step into the living room, Steve snatches the pillow off Eddie before he can put it on the floor and places it in Eddies lap instead.
"Oh, uh," Eddie stutters, eyebrows high, staring down at Steve who did not hesitate to rest his head on the pillow in his lap. "You- yeah?"
"Yeah," Steve agrees. "You alright with this?"
"Yes- yeah, this- of course."
"Great!"
Steve stretches to the coffee table, handing Eddie the remote.
He doesn't pay attention to whatever Eddie puts on though. He can't stop thinking about how he's laying, how Eddie's hand feels so much more gentle in his hair.
Eventually, he turns so he's on his back. He catches Eddie's hand before he can pull away, waiting until Eddie looks him in the eye before pulling his hand close enough to kiss his palm.
But, instead of surprise, Eddie sighs. His shoulders drop, smiling wide- relieved.
"You're so pretty," Steve says, pushing through the confusion he feels at Eddies reaction. "And I, uh... I really like you, Ed."
"Yeah?" Eddies eyes scrunch with how wide his smile is, shifting his hand out of Steves hold so he can brush the back of his knuckles along his cheek. "Little ol' me?"
"Yeah. I'm- I mean, you're funny and you care... you're just... it's too soon to say love, I know, but-"
"I love you too."
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jazzyoranges · 4 months
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Saw you take requests!! Can you do a fluffy Wednesday x Shape shifter!Reader (no smut please) where it's Wednesday's writing time but she can't think of ideas so reader turns into a cat and curls up on Wednesday's lap? Basically helping Wednesday by making sure Wednesday can't get up until she writes a chapter. Thanks!
Orange kitty - drabble
Wednesday Addams x fem!reader
Words: 0.8k
A/n: i feel like we as a fandom haven’t been putting the orange cat x black cat trope in enough fics. this is me advocating for orange cat!r
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“I feel your eyes on me, (Y/n).”
“I’m not allowed to look at my friend anymore?”
“It’s distracting. You’re inhibiting me from writing.” Wednesday isn’t fully lying. She just doesn’t add how you give her an odd feeling. An odd feeling she doesn’t like.
“Aww, do I make you nervous, Wens?” You laugh, deciding to ignore the glare she sends your way
“Keep talking and I’ll remove your voice box.”
“Please, I think you’d miss me too much” You roll your eyes, stretching on Wednesday’s bed
You turn into a cat as per Thing’s request, and you two start to play tag around Wednesday and Enid’s shared room. Thing happily bragged that you and him were better friends once. His hubris only resulted in Wednesday taking away his favorite lotions for an entire week.
The Addams girl huffs when she, yet again, makes a mistake on her typewriter. This was unlike her. The tiny trash can under her desk was nearing being full only after one or two hours of her failed attempts at writing. Wednesday put her hands in her lap after she realized her words only became futile
The abrupt stop of clacking keys makes you turn your head, giving Thing the perfect opportunity to tag you back on Enid’s bed. You quickly turn human again with almost a cartoon-ish pop, and ask Thing if Wednesday was allergic to cats
“She’s not, why do you ask?” He signs
“Do you think she’d kill me if I sat on her lap?” You sign back, not wanting Wednesday to hear
“As a human, most definitely. But if you were a cat maybe she’d tolerate you. No promises, though” Thing somehow shrugs using his thumb and pinkie finger as arms. God, you loved the weird appendage
“I can hear you two talking. I’d prefer if you’d leave me in silence.”
“Writers block?”
“No, I’m merely thinking of the correct words to use.”
“Maybe you should ask Enid for help. The woman can reach over the Twitter character limit in like… three seconds. Two if she’s really excited”
“Recommend such a horrid idea again and I’ll release you in my pen of hellhounds.”
“We both know I’d win” You cockily smirk, again ignoring what looks to be annoyance on Wednesday’s face. Then again, she always looked annoyed
“Your hubris is laughable. Let’s see how you suffice when your digestive system is ripped open.”
“Tempting, but I’d rather stay here with you”
You can only assume Thing listens with watchful… fingers? You execute your plan to him, and a quick pinkie-promise indicates he gets to bury you if Wednesday decides to kill you after the stunt you’re about to pull
“Hey, Wens?” The Addams doesn’t show any form of talking but you decide to keep going
“Did you know people say cats can lessen anxiety?”
The Addams hums in acknowledgement, so you continue
“Well, I don’t exactly believe it”
“And why is that.” Wednesday sighs. Sometimes she wonders why she indulges in you
“I dunno, just seems fake. I was wondering if you’d do an experiment with me?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Great! Thanks, Wens” You give Thing a quick wink after turning into a cat and hopping up onto her desk. Turning your head to the side as if you were asking a question, you looked at Wednesday for an answer
You were crazy, but not crazy enough to do something to make Wednesday hate you
For some reason, the Addams girl doesn’t even have a second chance to think before scooting back her chair. You’re about to jump into her lap with a paw over the edge of her desk, but you glance up to make sure Wednesday was sure. You receive a small nod
The action is enough to make you whisper a small “thank you” but it only comes out as a small meow
You circle around her lap for a good area to lay, and you quickly take your spot with a tiny smile that makes your eyes close. Wednesday scoots her chair back in, and she has absolutely no idea what to do.
Only when you start to purr a shiver goes up her spine. The vibrations are light, and something about you happily laying on her lap makes you chip away at Wednesday’s walls the tiniest bit. She contemplates where to put her hands before Thing scurries on top of you to scratch behind your ear. Wednesday shoots him a deathly glare in return, but your favorite Addams (don’t tell Wednesday) stays put
As if showing Wednesday how to pet a cat, Thing gets off of your back and points a finger in your direction. Hesitantly, the Addams girl copies the actions Thing showed her
And you? You were having an amazing time. Wednesday’s fingers were cold but every stroke of her hand was calculated. She took note of which spots you purred louder, and continued her movements
Fuck you and your ability to get what you want, Wednesday thinks. Of course your smug ass knew cats lessened anxiety. Of course.
But Wednesday can’t help being addicted to your tiny purrs and vibrations
With her left hand fondling your ear and her right on her typewriter, she decides maybe a cat could be arranged in her novel.
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