#<- but it will look /way better/ than everyone else’s and i will feel happy and accomplished and it will be /worth it/
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Alpha is done with Terzomega, but he's not much better. Featuring, well, obviously, sickeningly in love Terzomega and one interesting situationship between the second Emeritus brother & our dealy beloved asshole of a fire ghoul (affectionate).
Terzo and Omega are being painfully obvious and Alpha is so, so done. There is no way in hell they're going to fool anyone if they keep glancing at each other that way, looking away precipitately whenever they make eye contact. They are in a goddamn meeting for Lucifer's sake, something about next tour's budget that the two ghouls are only attending to make it look like the Clergy gives a single damn about creatures like them, and here are those two fools, "we just fucked" pratically written on their foreheads. Alpha leans toward Omega until he can hiss exasperatedly directly in his ear.
"Can you be any more obvious ? Stop staring, and stop touching your neck, Satanas."
It would be funny, to see a big ghoul like Omega dip his head down bashfullly the way he does just now, if it didn't bring such a sickeningly soft look in Terzo's eyes, one that even from the corners of his owns Alpha can see. It's sweet. Alpha can feel cavities forming in his mollar. There's not much else he can do though, so he straightens back in his seat, glaring at Terzo in hope of conveying the warning he's too far away to angrily whisper at him.
Except that Terzo doesn't even has the decency to be embarrassed about it ; no, he smirks and raises a smug eyebrow at his fire ghoul, who has to make a concious effort not to accidentally set his seat aflame.
This meeting better be over in less than five minute or someone will get hurt.
The second it is, and they're out of view, Alpha drags Omega and Terzo toward a relatively private hallway by the back of their neck, spitting mad, tail lashing behind him.
"Are you two out of your goddamn minds ?!"
Unfortunately, fueled by Terzo's evident delight at the situation, Omega has recovered from the initial embarrassement, his eyes now crinkled in a way that means he's smiling under his mask. Alpha is going to throttle him.
"Come now, Alpha, you're blowing things out of proportions," Terzo has the galls of chuckling, mischief brightening his features and isn't it Satan's best joke that being a dick is what makes this little asshole happy, because Alpha is equal part boiling with fury and glad to see that painted mouth losing a bit of its usual frown.
He's still pissed though.
"Blowing- you were making bedroom eyes at eachother from across the table ! Do you have any idea how incriminating it is, not to mention absolutely fucking disgusting ?"
Omega shrugs elegantly, the wide plane of his shoulders raising easily.
"You're the only one that finds happiness disgusting, Al"
There's a chuckle trapped in the quint's voice, which does not help Alpha's temper. He stares at those two idiots, Terzo nonchalently leaning back into Omega's chest, humming in approval as the quint's hands work on tense muscles at the back of his neck. They are effortlessly domestic like this, relaxed and so, so easy to figure out. Alpha chucks his mask off just so he can bury his face in his hands and very nearly scream.
"One, seeing you being all lovey-dovey makes me want to throw up, the less I know about you two, the better, and two, if I can see it, everyone else can. You could get into so much trouble, you know that ?"
Omega's deep chuckle does not help at all. How can they be so careless ? How can they swat the risks like flies, knowing damn well how ruthless consequences can be here ? But then Terzo's face settles into something more serious, as he reaches out to straighten Alpha's grucifix, fix his collar and redo the buttons that popped open with gentle care.
"It's alright, dear. We are aware of our situation, but stopping ourselves from living because of it is out of the question. With acceptance comes a lot of freedom."
If Alpha is stubborn, Terzo is much worse, contrarily to popular belief, there is no way the fire ghoul will make him change his mind. Even less so when Omega joins in, voice calm and steady.
"You have to trust our judgement, or at least respect it, firefly. We made a choice. We'll stick to it, come what may."
Mourning the fact that he doesn't even has Ifrit's sad puppy dog eyes as a last resort to try and please convince them to be more careful, Alpha let out a long-suffering sigh.
"Alright. But I swear to everything that's unholy, if I walk in on you two, or if i hear anything coming from one of your rooms, I'm burning your beds down."
Terzo's smile is back tenfold, radiating the same smug energy as earlier.
"Of course, dear. We'll try our best."
He's wearing that "I know something you don't know" face, Alpha realizes. He narrows his eyes at the Papa.
"What ?"
It's Omega who answers though, no doubt grinning from ear to ear.
"By the way, Secondo's walls aren't as thick as you seem to think, mutt."
The echo of the second Emeritus brother's voice curling around the word in that half condescending, half appreciative tone bounces in Alpha's mind, sending a embarrassed flush to color his cheeks. It's almost immediately overruled by anger, as he bares his teeth in a dangerous snarl.
"Breath a word of this to annyone, and i'll dissect you two alive, understood ?"
Terzo only laughs, going up on his tiptoes to press a kiss on Alpha's forehead, like he always does when he teased him enough and wants to appease the fire ghoul.
"Of course, dear, of course, though I'm sure i'd still look fantastic on the slab."
Omega nods at Alpha, crossing himself backward still with that fucking glint in his eyes, before ducking down to press the sealed mouth of his mask against the crown of Terzo's head.
"You would. I can't think of any situation you wouldn't be beautiful."
Now they're just taking the piss, aren't they. Alpha is frowning so bad his face is starting to ache. Terzo seems aware, if his shit-eating grin is anything to go by.
"You flatter me, my love."
With a fake gagging noise, Alpha shoves them away.
"I assure you you wouldn't look that great in a tomb, so you two better piss off before I start digging."
Of fucking course Terzo and Omega saunter away giggling, pinkies entertwined. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alpha is about to turn back on his heels when his phone pings. He digs it out of his pocket, frowning at the cracked screen. The message is curt, abrupt, so typical of the impatient, technology adverse man it comes from.
My room in fifteen minutes.
Of course, Alpha doesn't have to. If he doesn't show up, Secondo wil just find something else to occupy himself, or maybe jack off on his own if he really is that horny. Despite the tone of the text, Alpha is aware it's more an invitation than an order. But, well. It's not like the fire ghoul has anything more interesting to do...despite the heavy sigh he let out at his own predictability, he slinks off toward Secondo's room with a slight waving of tail. He's careful to use as much secret passages as he can, because Satan forbid he runs into Omega and Terzo again and give them even more amunition.
As he reaches the door to Secondo's room, he feels far too much like a hypocrite, at least until he shakes his head to clear it.
Whatever. At least he has the decency not to make this a public shitshow.
And if Secondo's sharp gaze thrown Alpha's way above the rim of his reading glasses makes the fire ghoul's stomach swoop strangely pleasantly, well. It's a secret he'll take to his grave.
#tee-hee#look all of them are important to me#terzomega is probably one of my biggest comfort ship#but also can we hear some cheers for alpha and terzo's relationship ?#i just think this tiny-ass man going up on his tiptoes to kiss alpha's forehead is cute#give me platonic kisses i just love that shit#also alpha being so concerned for omega and terzo's well being dshkdhshsh give me overprotective alpha i swear i can be trusted with him#and alpha and secondo#oh oh i love their complicated situationship#i'm a alpha/secondo truther and will be until i die#it's just too interesting a dynamic for me to pass up#anyway#alpha ghoul#omega ghoul#terzo#papa emeritus iii#terzomega#secondo#papa emeritus ii#nameless ghouls#the band ghost
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I miss my husband Ratchet owo
Wasn’t sure which doc, so went with TFP
The Weakends Pt 8
TFP Ratchet x Reader
• Stretching slowly, it’s the feel of something heavy against your back shifting against you that brings you wide awake. Relaxing when you realize you’re sprawled inelegantly on Ratchet’s red and white chassis, his servos draped across your back. He’s still out as you lift your head enough to see his face and you rest your chin on him to watch him, unwilling to wake him. As exhausted as you were, he’d been nearly dead on his peds and he needs this. Always pushing himself, driven to take care of everyone else and neglecting himself.
• There’s a spot of warmth on him, something soft under his servos as he comes back online. Starting to sit up and catching you against him when you start to slide. “I think that’s the longest I’ve ever seen you recharge,” you say as he grimaces and wonders how long he’s been out. He hadn’t meant to rest so long, used to recharging in short intervals at his desk, sometimes drifting off while working on research. How long has it been since he’s had any significant rest in his actual berth? Usually his mind is too busy, keeping him wound up. But somehow having you there, feeling the beat of your heart kept him still. “You really need to take better care of yourself, doc.”
• You wait for the cranky grumbling, but he just touches a servo to the back of your head in a gentle bump as a rebuke and sits up completely, warm servos pinning you in place. “We need to check on Bumblebee,” he says, but he doesn’t move or shift his grip on you. Like he’s reluctant to start the day. Leaning against his warmth, you listen to the hum of his spark. Feel his servos flex against you before he vents tiredly and slides off his berth.
• “I don’t think I’ve been so mad at someone as I was at you,” you say as his peds hit the ground and he pauses to look down at you. Your little head is leaned against him, avoiding his optics. “Do you know how hard it is to see someone you care about just not give a damn about themself?” There it is, the root of your anger before. The truth. That it wasn’t his grouchy act that set you off, it was because of the way he pushed himself. Working himself to exhaustion again and again, because of course you’d noticed. Even knowing you, being around you, it’s so easy to forget how observant you are. Always looking to him.
• “I’m fine.” Liar. It’s pretty much what you expect from him, though, to play it off. Everyone else so much more important than his own health and happiness. You expect it, because you understand it all too well. It’s the same way you worry over those three kids, anxiety cranking you tight when they leave with the bots and you want to go with them to watch over them, because they’re just kids. And they’re so easy to overlook, a wrong step, a wrong move? You hate that they might be in danger. Wanting to take care of them and Ratchet, all of the bots. Because as dysfunctional as this is, it feels like a family and you want to protect that.
• “Yeah, so am I,” you mutter in a tone that clearly says that you aren’t. At all. He can feel those walls going back up, but admitting the truth? That he’s so tired of this war, of fighting? That he just wants something to break their way. A place to call home once and for all where he doesn’t have to watch friends die right in front of him. He can’t say those things. Not without cracking wide open, because that anxious worry is all that’s keeping him together. That and you.
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i hate my face it needs to be softer and i hate my body it needs to be sharper
#there is nothing in the world i wished i had more than a smaller/rounder nose#why is that thang genuinely V#<#>#^#every direction sniffin#i want to bury my face in things and not impale them#i hate the way it looks when i smile#somehow it gets even bigger#and more downturned#and my body well . at least thats easier 2 change#im so hyper aware of how much i weigh i hate the number being known it makes me want to cry i feel too exposed#its like it being a secret keeps me safe#even though everyone can see my body anyway#if i just have that then im safe no one can hurt me#what if the number makes them see me differently#what if it changes the way i look in their eyes like it does in mine#what if the dysmorphia streaks out past just me#i know its stupid n realistically it doesnt matter at all but i am so Scared i am terrified#i hate my ed i hate everything it holds over me all the time everyday#every time i look at myself im different#n im worse#and no matter how much i suffer its never happy#im so sick rn im in pain but all i can think about is at least im not eating at least its stopping me from eating#i just want to be different i want to be anything else#i feel like im always going 2 be stuck as the grossest thing in the world#ill never get the chance to look at myself n see anything but that#i want to be better. i do. i want to just move on#im so tired. but im So awful looking. & everyone has always made sure i know it. made sure im lesser and i am#ive never had a real friend. theyve always hated me n kept be barely around because they feel bad for me. n just told me how bad i looked
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When it comes to hygiene tasks and self care with disability and chronic illness, its pretty much a constant case of: don't let perfect be the enemy of the good.
Basically: it's better to do something, than to do nothing at all.
TLDR: Just because you can't do something "properly" doesn't mean you shouldn't do it at all. Do it half-way. Do it shitty. Do it barely. Do it on a technicality. But do what you can. Just try, because doing something will help you.
If you don't have the energy to scrub your body with a sponge, just rub soap over your skin with your hands.
If you don't have the energy to wash your whole body with soap, just hit the places where sweat accumulates, or where you're smelliest.
If you don't have the energy to wash with soap AT ALL, just sitting in water is better than nothing. It will wash away dirt and oils.
If you can't bathe or shower at all, a warm wash cloth is your new best friend. If that's too much, then try bath wipes. They're a bit bigger than regular wet wipes, and a bit more heavy duty. They're designed to help keep bed ridden patients clean in hospitals.
If you don't have the energy to dry yourself after a bath or a shower, just put on a bathrobe and get into bed. If you don't have the energy to get dressed afterwards, just don't. It can wait until you can.
If you don't have energy to brush your teeth for two minutes, honestly, just a cursory scrub is better than not doing anything.
If you can't brush your teeth twice a day, brush in the evenings. It will help take away the build up of food from the day.
If you don't have the energy to brush AT ALL, honestly, just take a cloth and wipe the plaque off your teeth. Rinse with mouth wash after if you'd like. Something is always better than nothing.
If you can't floss twice a day. Try once. If that's too much, try a few times a week. If that's too much, try setting aside a day once a week as a goal. If you can't keep a schedule, do it when you're able to. Hell, I keep some floss next to my bed so that if I forget and don't have the energy to go get it, I can just reach over.
If you can't iron your clothes, don't bother. Wrinkles are fine. Wear jumpers over wrinkly t-shirts. No one will know, and honestly, most people won't even care. If it's really wrinkly and it's A Big Deal And It Needs To Be Ironed, here's my life hack. Step 1: take a spray bottle, and spritz the item of clothing (while you're wearing it is easiest) until it's lightly damp. Step 2: use a hair-dryer on the clothes until they're dry. It gets rid of creases like nobody's business, it's easier than lugging out the iron and ironing board, and you get to have nice toasty warm clothes afterwards.
If you can't fold your clothes, try just hanging them up. It's less commitment. It's quicker to do. Granted, you need to have the space in order to do this, but it is also good at helping you downsize, and lets you visualise exactly what you have.
If you can't put your clothes away, invest in a couple of laundry baskets, and then just keep your clean clothes in the baskets. You can then separate washed clothes into underwear, pants, and shirts baskets. You can just leave them like that. I'm giving you permission to never fold your laundry again if you can't. Just leave it unfolded. Who's going to care? Something is better than nothing. If you can, try to put those baskets into your closet so that you can keep the clutter out of sight, and give yourself a more restful environment.
If you can't separate your clothing out into different categories and wash them "properly" (whites, warm tones, cool tones, darks, delicates / switching between hot & cold washes / paying attention to laundry instructions on the label) then just don't worry about it. If you cold wash your clothes, colours won't bleed. Maybe gradually over the course of dozens of washes there'll be some changes in hue, but it's really not as high stakes as the One Red Sock In The Whites Turns Them Pink trope makes it out to be.
I've pretty much come to the point in my life where if a piece of clothing can't survive the washer and dryer, then it's just not meant to be. I colour separate my clothes, and if I have the energy/remember I'll take my bras and jumpers out of the washing machine to drip dry. But otherwise, I leave it to the universe.
If you can't separate out your recycling, then don't. If you have a large amount of rubbish you need to get rid of but the idea of separating it out properly is stopping you from doing so, then just don't worry about it. I know it's not ideal, but if you have garbage in your room/house and you need to get rid of it, please just get rid of it. Don't let the problem get bigger and harder to deal with. Don't let "doing something properly" get in the way of keeping your living spaces clean. Please. Give yourself understanding.
If you can't wash your dishes, get paper plates. Obviously, it's not ideal, but it is better that you eat food than skipping meals. It is better that you have a clean kitchen, rather than having dishes piling up and making it harder to look after yourself.
If you can't prepare meals for yourself keep making the tasks easier and easier. If you can't do recipes, then simplify. Use pasta sauce from the jar instead of making it. Eat canned soup. Buy food you can just stick in the oven. If you eat fish fingers and microwave veggies every night, it's better than not eating anything at all. It's better than having to fork out money on take-out. If you need ready-made meals, then get them. If you're literally just eating a raw cauliflower for dinner; 1) I see you, 2) me too, sis, 3) something is better than nothing.
These are the basic things you need to do every day to function as a person. They are your activities of daily living. Brushing your teeth. Bathing or showering. Using the bathroom. Getting dressed. Eating. Drinking. Sleeping. Keeping your environment clean. You don't need to do these things perfectly, but they need to happen in order for you to have a decent quality of life.
And it breaks my heart, because I know that so many disabled people can't do these things every day. I'm not saying this to guilt or judge, I'm saying that these are basic needs; you deserve these things. These things bring dignity. If a disabled person is unable to do these things, it diminishes their quality of life. It robs them of dignity.
If you need help to do these things, Its okay to ask for help. It's okay to need help. But if you can't get that help and you have to do these things by yourself -- or you just plain want to be independent and do it without help-- then don't hold yourself to standards you can't meet.
Don't let perfect be the enemy of the good. Doing something is always better than doing nothing. Even if it's not perfect. Even if it's not done well. Do what you can.
#lord knows that im still trying to pull myself out of the muck and into independence and dignity#i had to set a rule for myself that i need to wear clean clothes every day. and that i need to wear pyjamas to bed#that one's been hard. sometimes I dont have the energy to do it and i just stay in the same clothes for two days at a time#or i go to sleep in what i was wearing. but when i do follow that rule my quality of life is drastically better#not feeling dirty or gross goes a long way to making you feel more like a person#i also made a rule that im not allowing myself to look frumpy outside anymore. that means clothes that look nice#no more trackies and pj pants and all that stuff. i basically lived in perpetual pyjamas for four years and im over it#i still dress comfortably but the important thing is that i dress. i look put together. i wear things that make me happy#(and i didnt need to buy anything to do so. i just needed to start taking better care of myself)#and i stopped letting perfect be the enemy of the good. i started doing things shitty rather than not doing it at all#and the more i keep pushing with my ADLs the better i feel#what helps is now i dont have to contend with stairs and that has made a dramatic change to what im able to accomplish#ive also finally built up enough strength in my body that im able to go to the shops by myself. so i can buy things to make easy meals#and mum doesnt mind if i just put some things in the oven or air fryer for us for dinner.#i still cant really cook. i felt bad about that for the longest time. i didnt even try bc i knew what id make would be disappointing#or it wouldnt be up to the standards of what everyone else was making. i was so sick of feeling like a let down all the time.#now i just make what i can and my mum doesnt complain bc shes in the same boat.#and yeah. having help would be nice. it would mean id be able to do more than what i can do by myself.#and its great to see how far ive come. but im not a burden. and when i have the accommodations i need i can do a lot more#i do something rather than nothing and my life has dramatically changed since then. ive just gotten better and better.#chronic illness#disability#chronic pain#spoonie#one things for certain and thats that im never going to let myself rely on anyone else ever again.#i never want to be on the other side of that ever again. I don't want to be anyone's burden. i dont want that hanging over me#i do things by myself or i dont do them at all. and god fucking willing i'll never go back to needing as much help as i used to#i really didnt realise just how much of an obstacle living with stairs was in my life. it was the biggest barrier against everything#stairs stopped me from being independent. if i couldnt traverse them i just didnt go anywhere. my world shrank so much#and not having the proper wheelchair shrinks my world even more. im stronger than i used to be but im still severely limited in where i go
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I've never heard of emts working only at events? What's that like for you if you don't mind my asking?
Yeah, there are ambulance companies that staff certain events, but there's some event specific companies out there lmao. For me specifically, it's almost entirely college events, whether it's happening on a campus or not. It's not great, usually pretty boring, but it's better than being on an ambulance or in a hospital. We do get actual emergencies sometimes, but usually it's just getting drunk people to the tent or giving out water and bandaids lmao. Again, boring as fuck, but I chose this over working on a 911 rig, so that's on me 😔 if I'm being so real tho, other than my coworkers, the best part of the job is the food lmaoooo it's so good and all the food trucks/food booths give discounts or free food to us depending on the location and event. And there's almost always a ton of downtime, so I basically just get paid to sit there and vibe for the most part
#not snz#when i say i love my job i mean i love very specific parts of it lmao#idk if I've said it here before or not and this is gonna sound so bad coming from someone working in healthcare#but i don't like patients lmao#i love the book stuff and i love everything in theory and i know how everything works and I'm very enthusiastic about it#but man do i not like patients ahskaksk#there are exceptions obviously but those are few and far between#it's why i love being an emt at my fire station bc we don't reslond to medical calls#like I've done medical calls there for the public but very rarely bc people either approach us or we stumble upon them#so i really only do my emt things on the people i know and i love that#i love my coworkers so I'm always happy to make sure they're okay and help them out when they're not#but i feel nothing for the public and i didn't realize i genuinely couldn't care less about them until i started doing my clinicals#it's just awkward and I'm not invested in them i just like figuring out what's wrong with them and interact with them as little as possible#again there are exceptions and i do like some of the patients but generally I'm just trying to hand them off asap#so yeah i do like working events bc the alternative is being confined to a tiny box or trapped in a hospital#i like being outside and being able to walk around the place and do things if i want to#and obviously i adore my partner#and even on the rare occasions i work with someone else all day i love my other coworkers too#and i mean yeah this might be more boring than working on an emergency rig However#it pays so much better#like why do y'all think my medic partner works there lmao he's actually good with patients and prefers the ambulance#but the pay in the field is shit so he gets paid way more working events than he would at the three letter company#insane actually that he makes over ten dollars more an hour working chill events than he would being overworked on a rig#anyway i digress#I'm looking into pathology assistant school rn bc there's like no patient interaction there but i still get to be nosy#so that's perfect for me lmao#everyone keeps saying i missed my calling as a vet tho like i don't cry when a dog dies in a movie lmao i wouldn't survive#working with animals would be amazing but the only thing that really gets you money is being a vet#so that can be a hobby
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I love weird teenagers so much they deserve so many good things
#taking photos for a friends sisters high school formal#spot a weird goth kid sitting alone and looking way cooler than everyone else so i take a polaroid of them as a gift#apparently theyre like known as the dog kid because when they were 9 they identified as therian and chose to share this with youtube#which every teenager in the area has seen so now they get barked at everywhere they go#and i just have to say god i love everything about them i hope the rest of their life is fantastic and they get to be so happy#all the love i did not give my teenage self is now overflowing for them they are so cool and they deserve to feel it#they got bullied over the wolf thing so much and they still showed up alone looking way cooler than everyone else they are a king#weird teenagers go through so much and they still turn around and say fuck you I will not let this stop me#and i will never stop being proud at them for that#to the wolf kid: you have filled me with hope and joy and i hope that i was able to do the same for you#once youre out of high school god damn are things gonna get better
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literally when I see women being frustrated with other women for staying with abusive men I feel like I'm watching the ouroboros. Like I get it, it happens to everyone, I've been there, but it's so self sabatoging.
#don't come at me if you're one of those girls currently angry at her friend for continuing to date an abuser after you and everyone else#told her not to#I spent 7 years watching different men beat my mother and I've had a lot of friends who faced very different kinds of abuse from other men#so when I say your anger is not constructive believe me because it is my anger too. and I know it hurts and I know it can drive you insane#but when your friend Sees that anger it will hurt her in a way you cannot understand. And if you are hurting her while you claim to love he#while you claim to have her best interests at heart -> then she cannot differentiate between the way you treat her#and the way her abuser does. And I know that's not fair I know it's not the same#And I know you probably care for her in a way her man does not. But when you tell her what to do she doesn't see You.#She sees the man who tells her what to do and how to live. She won't listen to you over that man because you sound the same#You sound eerily similar but he is manipulating her and you are just angry and upset. He will always seem to offer the better deal#so just don't be that angry friend anymore. Be an open door she can walk through whenever she needs a break from an evil man.#Be the life she Could have if she really believed she deserved it. Be good and respectful and supportive even when you feel like killing hi#show her how Everyone should treat her. Show her she deserves to be treated good; show her it is no problem for You to treat her good#And she Will start demanding that from men. From everyone. But she will do it on her own time#With her own setbacks and she will set her own standards. They might never be your standards but they will be better than what they are now#but first you have to be supportive and not angry. You have to root for what She wants and not for her relationship to fail#Even if you really truly hope the relationship will fail. You have to convince her that you want the same things she wants#You have to convince her that you want her to be happy no matter what that looks like. And Then she will ask you#To help make her life happier. And in my experience; that is the only way to truly see someone get to a better place#You have to help them get what they Want. This is way harder than being angry. Insanely harder. But I have seen women change a Lot#after I stopped feeling angry over them. After I stopped trying to convince them that I know what is best for them
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I'd like to tell you all a story about my grandmother.
My grandparents raised their children, four girls (one of them my mother), to be fighters. My aunts marched in Washington for women's rights with babies strapped to their chests and like to joke that all of the grandchildren who came from that line (including myself) were born with picket signs in their hands.
But it started with my grandparents. They fought hard for what they believed in. They marched against Vietnam. They marched for Martin Luther King. They marched for women's rights. They marched for a better future.
But let's talk specifically about my grandmother for a moment.
My grandmother unfortunately passed away in 2016. She had to watch the first Trump election and did so knowing that it would probably be the last election she'd ever see. And there is some argument there that she could have given in to fear and defeatism. She could have decided none of it was worth it, and she could have decided that fascism had won and the world was over.
But she did something else instead.
To give some context, my grandparents had friends who were Republicans. I say were, because they shifted from the normal Republican towards the MAGA Republican we see today. And despite a very clear message from my family about how we felt, they were more than ready to still come to the funeral as if everything was normal. Like their beliefs were normal. Like they were welcome to celebrate someone who had fought so hard for the rights of other people.
These were people who would have absolutely used their rhetoric to scream and shout if they were left out or disinvited.
And so my grandmother, even past her final moments, pulled the most brilliant, petty move I've ever seen.
She'd decided ahead of time that everyone who had known her was more than welcome to attend but that she wanted everyone attending the funeral to donate money. That was the requirement to be invited. And so everyone did just that. There was no talk about what the donations were for, just that they were appreciated. I want to say that the assumption was the money would help pay for funeral expenses and give the family some support while we grieved.
Except that wasn't the case.
Because in those final moments of the funeral, the rabbi stepped forward to thank everyone, and then very cheerfully announced;
"Arlene was so happy to know just how many people were coming to join us here today. She couldn't have been more proud of her family. And I'm sure she would have been elated to see just how much money you all gave today to Planned Parenthood."
When I say that the faces of those people are enshrined in my memory, I mean it. The anger, the devastation, the rage, the betrayal. It was an absolutely gorgeous display of true defeat at the hands of a boss ass old lady who literally fought with her last breath and threw up both middle fingers all the way out the door.
What I'm saying is this.
It is very easy to feel defeated. It is very easy to think that everything is over, and there's nothing left for us to do. It's very easy to say that fascism won, that fear won, that hate won.
But that's only true if you let it be true.
There is always more that we can do. There is a future that is still worth fighting for. And it's more than possible, even when it doesn't seem like it.
And fighting is going to look different every time.
Some days it will look like picket signs in our hands.
Some days it will look like spending time with friends and family and people you love and knowing that you have a community that supports you and your vision of a brighter future.
And some days, it's pulling absolute natural level 20 petty trickster shit even after you've left the world.
Because you can always make an impact and you can always add a little brightness to life, and if that means tricking a group of MAGA idiots into throwing their money behind Planned Parenthood in the middle of your own goddamn funeral then that's what it means.
Keep fighting. People have done it before you. People will continue to do it after you.
And enjoy the little victories.
(Even the petty ones)
#us elections#equality#equal rights#protesting#picketing#fighting#we can do this#we truly can#take a break and then keep fighting
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Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You - T.F.
Synopsis. When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company!
Pairing. Bartender! Toji Fushiguro x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, strangers to lovers, unprotected, pússydrunk Toji, cúmplay, oral (female + male receiving), créampie, some heinous things with pantíes, dirty talk, spitting, whískey, neither are drunk, absolutely filthy, pet names (doll), swearing.
Word count. 4.6k
A/N. Was originally gonna be Nanami but Toji mmmm
“So, that date of yours is late, huh?”
You don’t know what shocks you more - the question, or the voice from behind the counter - so very deep, tinged with just a bit of amusement.
Tearing your eyes away from the clock at the other end of the bar, it takes a second - and one look around the almost-empty room - for you to realize that shit the hot bartender was talking to you. Sputtering out a quick, “Oh, yes, um-” quickly reading that faded nametag, “-Toji. He’s a bit late.”
The man in front of you raises a brow, dark green eyes locked on the way you shift in your seat. He seemed a bit older, and - you gulp, eyeing the way his arms flex as he fumbles with the shaker - so undeniably attractive. Plowing on obliviously, “Boyfriend?”
You sigh, pinching your nose, “No, some guy from a dating app. It’s supposed to be our first date.”
“First date?” Toji lets out a low whistle. “Way to make an impression, dunno what type of asshat would keep a pretty lil’ thing like you waiting.”
Cheeks flaring, you don’t know what it is about him that makes you want to defend yourself, but it doesn’t matter anyway - because whatever rambled excuse gets stuck in your throat at the sharp scrape of glass against the counter. Large hands gently placing a pretty pink daiquiri in front of you, Toji gives you a reassuring nod. “S’on the house till that dumbass shows up. Until then, you can keep me company, doll.”
Playing with the straw between your fingers, your eyes flit to the clock again - 8:10pm.
Well, there was still time. Right?
Nonsense, maybe.
Because it’s around 10:21pm when you conclude that no, there really wasn’t still time, and your date seemed well and fully intent on completely embarrassing you. And now, him still nowhere in sight, lips a bit looser, you were having the time of your life complaining all about it to Toji.
“-no, I swear.” you groan over his low chuckle. “He really gave me the ‘sorry, my dog ate my keys’ gem. And you know the best part?” Beckoning him over to whisper conspiratorially in his ear - heart stuttering at the heat of his proximity, “The man doesn’t even own a dog.”
Shaking his head, Toji seemed like he was drinking in your every word. “Classic. If yer gonna be late, at least make it interesting. Like, ‘I accidentally joined the circus on the way here.’”
“Mhm, I’ll have to keep that in mind for my next no-show date.” you grin, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than you were a few hours ago. Nowhere near tipsy, but definitely high off the conversation and the addictive scent of his cologne - the expensive kind that left you wondering whether all of him smelled this delicious.
“Or better yet, you could spend your time with someone who actually knows how to keep you entertained rather than some scrub.”
Snapping out of your little reverie, lifting your head just fast enough to catch the little smirk tugging Toji’s lips. Managing to grit out, “Smooth, huh?”
“Just sayin’.” he hums, before turning his back to organize the glasses on the shelf. And you can’t help but traitorously admire his broad shoulders, cursing that t-shirt for being so goddamn tight that you could see the way his muscles ripple with each movement.
“Besides-” Catching the tail-end of Toji’s question, “-neat whiskey for all the failed dates?”
You chuckle, “Ah, I really shouldn’t, the other customers will probably-” your sentence dies in your throat as a quick glance at the empty room showed that everyone else had eventually left - leaving just you. And Toji. Damn. Slow day, huh?
“Well, doll?”
Heaving out a shaky breath, you nod. Eyes zoning in on the way he expertly handles the glasses, so dizzyingly inviting. It makes a sheepish smile play at your lips, letting out a quiet little, “Despite all the shitty dates, I’ve actually never had whiskey neat before.”
Oh? That made him pause. Eyes widening ever-so-slightly as he sets down the glasses and leans in a little closer, breath hot against your face. “Never?”
“Never.”
“Well.” Toji muses. “This overpriced shit can’t be your first intro to neat whiskey. If you’re up for it, I’ve got a special 1926 Macallan stashed away in the back n’ can get it for us?”
Oh. Maybe it was that slow, silent grin that curls his lips, that sinful little scar moving as he does. Or maybe it was the way he places a hand on the counter to stare down so heavily at you. Probably it was just him - because you find yourself batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently, “Or I could just go with you?”
And shit if there was ever a time where Toji was sure he met his match then it might just be right now. Because that sultry lil’ smirk on your lips was killing him, making such a carnal little part of him twitch so dangerously. With a heavy nod, you’re following him through the dimly lit bar.
The back room is more of a VIP room than anything - cozy, lined with shelves of alcohol and leather furniture. Heady with the liquor and something so so Toji.
You’re halfway through reading the title of a wine you could barely pronounce before he’s letting out a grunt of satisfaction from behind you, “Excuse me, doll.” It’s all that’s said before Toji’s pressing up against you. His muscular arm just inches from your head, reaching for something from the very top shelf. And oh you could feel his abs rubbing up against your back, so warm and-
And then he’s pulling away.
It was quite hard to stomp down the disappointed whine that almost leaves your throat, and if you didn’t know any better you’d have said something about the amused little glint in his eyes. Smug bastard knew what he was doing.
Instead focusing on the way he turns to show off a bottle with a deceivingly innocent reverence. “This is going to be a real treat.”
Well. Two can play that game.
“Is that so?” you tilt your head, reaching out to grab the bottle neck, with not as much care of concern as you should have considering this was a million dollar whiskey. Swiftly unclasping the lid, focused only on the way Toji’s breath hitches as you fist his t-shirt in your other hand to pull him close to you - so close.
Close enough that you could count every shade of green in those half-lidded eyes, long lashes fluttering as your breath fans his face. “Such a shame we didn’t bring our glasses, huh?”
Oh the devilish grin that splits across his face sends such delicious shivers down your spine - Toji gets your drift. Of course, he does. Because he’s squishing your cheeks together in an almost-embarrassing pout, fingers searing on your skin, lips ghosting yours, “Yeah, real shame.”
Immediately bringing the bottle to his mouth, letting the burning liquid pool on his tongue, he spits into your mouth, once. Twice.
A steady stream of whiskey, and spit. It tasted just like the acrid alcohol and sin. And Toji.
And it was so messy, smearing across your lips and trickling down your chin. Tilting your head back, you let it flow down your throat obscenely. Locked in his greedy gaze as you loll your tongue out to show off the way you’d swallowed everything he gave.
“Maybe I do like neat whiskey.”
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him because fuck Toji was intoxicating and just there. That little scar rubbing against your lips as he devours you so sloppily, all hard muscles and heated skin underneath your fingertips.
“Fuck.” he hisses into your open mouth. Setting down the whiskey God-knows-where near the couch to pick you up like a ragdoll. Drinking in the cute lil’ gasp that leaves you as you wrap your legs around his slutty waist. Groping and kneading every inch of skin he could reach. “How ya likin’ the Macallan, doll?”
“A ‘real treat’.” you mimic his earlier words, voice slightly broken as you feel his rock-hard cock through your wet panties, throbbing angrily against your cunt. Fuck, would you even be able to take him all?
“Oh yeah?”
And before you can react you’re being pushed against the hard wall. Toji’s lips dizzying on yours, fiddling with that godforsaken clasp on the back of your tight dress.
“Shit.” he groans impatiently, wedging a knee between your legs, grinding against your wet pussy. “Such a delicious meal all f’me but I’ve gotta get through this- fuckin-” rip! “-dress”
Well, you expected your dress to end up on the floor somewhere, just not like this - tattered and hitting the ground of this back room behind the bar, faster than your jaw. And so do Toji’s - pupils blown, eyes hooded as he takes in the heavenly view in front of him.
Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, licking like he couldn’t stay away. “Shit, doll. You were gonna wear this pretty lil’ number for that loser?” he sounds genuinely confused. Immediately tweaking and rolling your swollen nipples through the sheer fabric. “M’so fucking glad that bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”
“T-Toji- ngh-” you mewl, as he lets your bra fall to the ground. Taking in one tit in his mouth, swirling his hot tongue around your areola. “Wan- wan’ more-”
“Now now,” he tuts mockingly, delicate strings of spit connecting him to your breasts. “S’rude to be the only one drinking. Unless…” Toji looks up at you through his thick lashes, “You wan’ me to drink in that pretty lil’ cunt of yours?”
And shit that sounded like everything you ever wanted right now. All you can let out is a delirious little nod before Toji’s dropping to his knees. So hard you wonder if it hurts - and maybe it’s the liquor, probably it’s the way he’s drunk off you - but he doesn’t give a fuck.
“Yeah, atta girl.”
Pulling down your panties in one, fluid motion, he tugs them underneath your legs, disappearing between his own, fumbling with his waistband. And if you angled your head just right you could see the slightest glimpse of Toji fisting his cock. Soaking your already-wet panties with his precum.
“Aw, look at the way she’s so wet f’me already.” he coos at your dripping cunt. Absolutely obsessed with the way you’re so drenched for him already. Slick beading through the flimsy fabric at each hot breath, oh Toji has half the mind to just take you right here, right now. But no, he wanted- needed a taste. Doesn’t think he could live without it. “Wonder if she tastes just as sweet as she looks.”
Whatever retort on the tip of your tongue is cut off by Toji burying himself face-first in your pussy. Licking a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds, pooling your slick on his tongue.
But it wasn’t enough - it might never be. Because one taste of your pretty cunt and Toji is hooked.
With a low groan, he’s spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering pussy. Spreading it with his thumb before he’s diving back in nose-deep. Snaking a hand down to draw frenzied little circles on your swollen clit, letting your juices glisten all down his wrist.
“Taste s’fuckin’ good. Fucking sweet.” So hot and maybe you should’ve gotten an inkling with how sloppy he was with the whiskey - but Toji was so fucking filthy. Your slick glossing his face so prettily, smearing right up to his nose and dribbling down his chin. Lewd little squelches deafening in your ears.
“Ngh- Sh-shut up-”
“Shut up? Can’t shut up, doll, m’drunk on this sweet cunt more than I am on whiskey.” he mutters into your folds. “My favorite taste. Got me addicted, huh?”
He huffs out a dark laugh into your pussy, taking in that cute lil’ embarrassed expression on your face. Throwing one of your legs over his sculpted shoulder, Toji bullies his soft tongue into your snug cunt, past that delicious little ring of resistance.
Making out with your pussy deeper. And his tongue was so long - perfectly hitting your sweet spots, licking all over your plushy walls. Thrusting in time with his thumb drawing on your clit, in and out in and out in and-
“Fuck, I could get used to this. Have you for breakfast, lunch, n’ dinner.”
His words were so dirty, but Toji looked so pretty stuffing his face in your cunt. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, dark strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. Tilting his head just so that your sweet sweet juices slide down his throat.
It’s what has you tugging in his hair to angle him just right, using him like your favorite toy. Such cute lil’ whines of his name leaving you each time his tongue grazes that one spot that has you keening and bucking into his mouth for more more more-
“Fuck fuck fuck jus’ like that- Ah!” you let out such pretty whines, words slurring together. Delirious little ones that go straight to Toji’s achingly hard cock, angry and twitching in his fist. So needy and glistening with precum in the dim lighting.
Shit, Toji thinks he could cum at just that, which is why he’s lapping at your cunt even greedier, drinking you in like a madman. Fingers so deftly toying with your pretty clit, making you putty in his hands. He has to make you cum. Now. Or else he’s gonna fuckin’ embarrass himself in front of such a goddess.
“Oh? So drunk on m’tongue, already, doll?” he chuckles. “Can’t speak?” Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure up your spine. It has you dragging your cunt so sloppily all over Toji’s face - and he likes it. Loves it even, only speeding up his movements. Even when his jaw is aching, walls sucking him up so desperately that it was almost difficult to eat out your pretty lil’ cunt. Even when your sweet juices are dripping down to the hardwood floor in a sinful little drip! drip! drip!
“I- ngh- m’gonna-”
“Gonna what? You can handle whiskey, you can handle using your words, doll.”
“Cum!” you yelp, “M’gonna cum Toji- ah- feels t’good.”
And that’s exactly what he liked to hear because Toji only gets sloppier. Alternating between stretching you out on his tongue, sucking on your clit, licking everywhere. Over and over-
“Then cum f’me, doll.”
And you are - fast and hard. So hard that you don’t even realize when you’re rocking your hips all over Toji’s face. Cunt fluttering around his tongue as if you were trying to suck him up - and he lets you.
“Fuck. Sweeter than I imagined.” he’s slurring into your cunt. “Jus’ like that- yeah, ride out that pretty lil’ cunt on m’face.” Words muffled as he tonguefucks you through your high, stars behind your lids every time he flicks at your pussy.
Distantly, you hear such embarrassing little whimpers of his name in time with the sinfully wet groans from below - ones you realize are yours only when you’re blinking back your vision. Heart thundering, pathetically trying to catch your breath.
The first thing you hear is Toji’s little chuckle, followed closely by a lewd pop! that has you whirling to look at him down below.
“Wh-wha-” and all you can let out is a strangled little oh! at the sight before you - Toji licking his fingers clean, sucking all your sweet juices like he couldn’t get enough. Even when he’s flashing you a devilish grin around his fingers, rising from his position on the ground to cage you against the wall.
“Told ya m’addicted, doll.”
Your back hits the soft leather before you even realize what’s happening. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw, you gasp in both shock and at the audacity of this man.
“Toji…” you warn as he looms over you on the couch, yet it comes out more breathless than you intended. But looking at him there - straddling your hips, pants pulled just below his heavy balls, tugging and teasing his rock-hard cock like he was trying to fuck something delicious out of it - how could you be blamed, really?
He was so big. Pulsing wildly in his fist and just soaked in precum - all the way from his pretty pink tip to the tufts of black at his base. Not quite wild, not quite tamed. You cunt clenches in- anticipation? Fear of not being able to walk for the next week?
And in the haze of your orgasm it takes you a second to register the flimsy panties wrapped around his hand. Rubbing against those prominent veins on the side as Toji fucks his fist. So wet and ruined that you almost didn’t recognize it.
“Jus’ think of it as repayment.” he grins, following your line of sight.
You scoff, eyes still traitorously stuck on his throbbing cock. So massive and mouth-watering that it makes you wish he used you instead of those panties. “Those were expensive y’know.”
“I’ll buy you new ones. Four. In the color of my eyes.”
“How about…” you flash him a sultry smirk, urging his hips to shift higher. And by the amused quirk of his brow, you knew Toji liked where this was going. “I can repay you another way.”
And before you knew it, his pants are thrown to God-knows-where, and you had two, muscled thighs straddling your face. Toji slaps his swollen cock on your face once. Twice. “Think that loser was this big?” Thumbing your mouth open as he grazes his weeping tip across your lips, glossing them so prettily. Precum salty on your tongue, all filthy and dripping down to your chin.
“Open wide- Fuck. Tha’s it-” he hisses, brows furrowing as he stuffs his fat head into your hot mouth. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at the way your lips bulge around him, flicking at the sensitive tip. And it was so delicious, Toji couldn’t decide whether he liked eating you out or this more.
“Shit, doll.” he grunts, hips fucking into your plushy tongue in shallow, quick little thrusts. “Taking me so well, huh?”
You didn’t know if you were - lips stretching obscenely around his thick cock, tears clinging to your lashes. Choking and gagging around his length in a way that made Toji twitch inside you. Shit, he liked this - liked seeing you like this. And as soon as the realization hits you, you’re moaning around his cock, making Toji’s hips stutter above you.
Toji has to fight off that part of himself that just wants to paint your mouth a sinful white. Fuck his cum into your till it’s all you can taste - all you can feel.
“Shit. You little minx. Ah- s’heavenly around me ngh-” pressing your head down till all the way till your nose is flush against his pelvis, balls twitching against your chin. Finally bottoming out and fucking your mouth in harsh, long strokes. “Fuck- Wonder if that pretty lil’ cunt of yours is gonna take me t-this well, huh?”
Oh does he love your smart mouth - but he loves it even more when all he gets in response is wet gurgle around his cock. Looking up at him so tearily and shit he could get used to this sight. “M’gonna take that as a yes.”
And then he’s speeding up, balls squeezing so painfully. God it’s so fucking hard to look at you too - precum and spit bubbling sloppily at the corners of your mouth, makeup so messy and fucking gorgeous to him.
“Can feel m’self riiight-” Reaching out a hand to wrap around your throat, feeling his dick bulging in and out in and- “here.”
Moving faster so he can ruin your pretty face. It’s so sloppy the way your spit glistens down his length, using your swollen mouth as he pleases. And you’re so eager to make him lose his mind too that it has been fucking into you like a toy.
“Ya like this? Like me using your pretty lil’ mouth like oh- it’s a fucktoy? Oh fuck, doll.” he groans, running his mouth like he’s drunk off yours wrapped around him. “Gonna paint that pretty mouth of yours white if y’don’t stop now.”
And shit if he knew those words would have you eagerly bobbing your head to meet his hips a little slut then he’d have said them a lot sooner. Trying to get just a taste of him. Mascara runny now, swirling your tongue around his leaking tip every time he hits the back of your throat, so hard that it’s probably sore and bruised. Toji almost feels bad.
…
Nahhh
Pulling your mouth off him, muttering low and dangerous. “Told ya to stop now, didn’t I?”
And oh he hates to cut off that cute lil’ whine spilling from your kiss-bitten lips, but shit Toji’s losing his patience and his sanity with each passing second that he isn’t stuffing his cock in your pretty cunt.
Toji backs up, swiping a thumb under your lip, sucking off the remnants of his precum before capturing your lips in a searing, searing kiss. Tasting you and himself and you-
“Liked the Macallan, huh?” Reaching blindly for the bottle of whiskey, taking a deep swing. Spitting it back into your mouth because shit you looked so pretty swallowing it all up. Rutting his hips into yours, sliding his throbbing erection in between your swollen folds. Collecting your sweet juices on his head, drinking in your adorable gasps.
“T-Toji.” you whimper, hips bucking up wildly. “Just fuck me already, goddamnit.”
And then he is - pressing his fat tip into your sloppy hole. Inch by fucking inch. Not even thinking of easing into it because fuck he needs it. He needs it-
“-s’bad. Ah-” Toji drawls against your lips. “Wan’ed this ever since y’walked in through that damn door.” A mess of spit and alcohol and precum - it made you feel so dirty, dirtier than the pressure between your legs as he bullies his heavy cock into your snug pussy. And all you can do is fucking take it because Toji was so unrelenting.
Thrusting in shallow, mindless little thrusts to just fit himself inside you - and you already feel like you’re being stretched to your limits. Whimpering out a tearily little, “Are you at least ngh- halfway in yet? Oh-”
If Toji was any lesser man he’d just have split you apart on his cock right now, but no. Instead settling for a smug little, “Nope”, popping the p.
But that doesn’t stop him from wrapping two arms around your waist, sitting up on the couch with you splayed out so prettily on his cock. Pulling you, squeezing his dick into your soft cunt, sliding down, down, down.
“Ah! Ah- shit shit shit s’too deep, ngh-”
“No such thing as ‘too deep’, doll.” he clenches his jaw. Hands pushing your thighs apart even further as you’re split apart on his cock. “You jus’ hafta sit there all pretty n’ take- it-” Each word is punctuated by a harsh thrust.
And Toji’s manhandling you around while bouncing you on his dick. Drawing unhurried little circles on your clit while trying to find that one spot he knows you’d love more than any whiskey or drink. Looping a strong arm to arch you into his body and-
“Fuck!” you keen, hips grinding sloppily to milk his cock as much as you could. Walls clenching so sinfully and shit-
“Found it.”
And then it was like something snapped - because all of a sudden Toji’s no more playful teasing and letting you have your little fun. No, he’s fucking you like a man possessed - thrusting his cock up into you. All the way from his weeping tip, till his balls smack your ass. So hard he’s sure they leave such a shameful mark for tomorrow. Hitting that spot over and over-
“Aren’t ya glad you chose to ah- s-stay with me?” he hisses, throwing his head back. One hand rocking your hips deeper the other becoming faster and faster on your poor, ravaged clit. Driving you crazy. “Fuck that date ditcher, y’look all pretty like this for me.”
“Yes yes yes- s’glad.” you manage to sob out. Voice shaky and hitching at the way he was bouncing you on his cock with reckless abandon. The lewd squelches and skin-on-skin filling the heady room, making your head spin so much that you barely hear Toji’s words.
“I’d make a much better date. Hngh-” he lets out a guttural groan as your nails rake his back. Fingers on your clit becoming more and more frantic. “Would buy ya flowers n’ a-all that shit. Show up on time, all dressed up.” Drinking in your lewd little ah! ah! ah! every time he milks himself on your sloppy pussy. But oh maybe Toji was a talker when he was drunk because he wasn’t done yet.
“Make all those other scrubs fuck- jealous. And then-” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy. “Hah- at night- m’gonna fuck you dumb just like this.” he gasps, sounding like he was at the end of his sanity. Losing it bit by bit every time his veins rub so deliciously against all the right spots that make you see stars.
Losing his sanity especially when you whine out such a cute lil’ noise of agreement. “Fuck m’close. Wanted this too, huh? I saw the way you’d been eyeing me all night.”
You can’t even be embarrassed about being caught red-handed, only looking up at his pretty face with delirious heart-eyes. Too cockdrunk and delirious at this point. And, well, maybe it’s the alcohol in your veins because you’re grabbing at the shiny bottle on the seat, bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste barely hitting your lips before you’re meeting his. Making out as sloppily as he was ravaging you below - all teeth and whiskey and pure filth.
And that answers his question.
Messy and desperate.
So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same - clamping down so sinfully on his aching cock. And shit it’s so heavenly that it sends him over the edge as well.
Toji cums, and keeps cumming so hard that he can see the way his seed was gushing out of your poor, overfilled pussy. Especially not when his thrusts get sloppy, thick cum spilling all over your pretty cunt. Purposely not pulling out like the mean bastard he is to paint your walls a sinful white
Over and over, forming a wet little patch on the couch that he knows he’ll have to worry about later. But right now he doesn’t give a fuck because your bloated and so prettily all covered in his seed.
Leisurely, he pools the cum trickling out of your cunt on his fingertips, not even wasting a second before stuffing them in your mouth, pushing through your swollen lips. And you don’t complain - not at all. In fact, you’re sucking it all up eagerly. Looking Toji straight in the eyes while you swallow it all.
“Hmm, not as good as the whiskey.” you tease. Letting yourself be yanked into his body, as he grins against your lips.
“For that, m’keeping the panties.”
---
“Toji…” a low voice rings through the closed bar. Shiu sounding like he’s absolutely at his wit’s end as he continues, “Where the fuck is our 1926 Macallan?”
The man in question was staring suspiciously giddily at his phone - either having not heard what Shiu said, or he just couldn’t give a fuck anyway. And knowing Toji, it was probably the latter.
A warning. “Toji I’m serious, that shit costs over a million dollars.”
“Yeah yeah, congratulations or my condolences but hey, do you know any great flower shops?”
A/N. I don’t even like whiskey so much, it’s just the thought of bartender! Toji that has me feral.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#toji x reader#toji smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fic#toji#toji fushiguro#tonywrites#gojo x reader#gojo smut
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figuring out how much time ill have to spend on finishing an assignment by putting a youtube video ive watched 10 times already on in the background at 2x speed when i start, pausing it when i finish, and halving the watched time to get the total time spent and then dividing that by the amount of problems i did and then multiplying that by the amount of problems i have left to do and then remembering my cat knocked over my magnetic sand timer and it broke and i spent anywhere from 8 to 15 minutes cleaning it and then having to take that off and redo all my maths again
anyways i love my cat, i like math, and i dislike my time blidness
#rat.txt#also fuck ap world reading wuizzes#fucking 40-something terms to define#(i had ample time to do them#i couldnt start so i put them all off to today)#(the quiz is tomorrow)#i love my cybersecurity teacher for giving us homework due monday because you might be too busy over the weekend#also i /should not/ have decided to hand draw an entire ap lang powerpoint presentation#<- but it will look /way better/ than everyone else’s and i will feel happy and accomplished and it will be /worth it/#im on slide 18 if 24#its due at midnight#i am /living/
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"Who's your new teacher?"
Synopsis: Toji meets Megumi's new preschool teacher and immediately develops a crush.
Pairings: single dad! toji x f! reader
Wc: 2.3K
Contains: plenty of fluff, crack, a tiny bit of angst, megumi is four, tsumiki is seven, toji is still toji (but like he's soft for his kids and he takes care of them), reader is a preschool teacher, reader and toji are around the same age, toji being soft, mentions of shiu, shiu and toji work together, shiu being an idiot (lol sorry he'll get love in another fic) , everyone is happy bc I said so
a/n: omg, first fic, we made it! barely proofread, sorry for mistakes. also, tysm for 1,000 followers here! the other two fics that were on that poll will be coming soon!
update: pt 2 here
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Toji’s Fushiguro’s muscles ache. The job he took was harder than he anticipated, and it took way longer than it was supposed to. After confirming that the payment from the job is in his account, he calls Shiu Kong so he could check in on the kids. “About damn time,” Shiu scoffs when the line connects. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t hear from you until sunrise.”
“Job’s done,” Toji says as he gets into his car, settling into the drivers’ seat with an exhausted sigh. “I hear the TV in the background. Better be cartoons or something age-appropriate.”
Shiu laughs. “Of course, what else? ‘M not getting cussed out by you. Anyway, you comin’ back with Megumi? Can’t believe you took him on the job with you. Once you’re back, I can get out of here.”
Toji’s heart nearly stops. He sits up in his seat, gripping the phone so hard that the screen nearly cracks from his strength. “The fuck did you just say?”
“Huh?”
“Megumi isn’t with you?!” Toji’s voice booms in the car. On the other line, he hears Shiu gulp. “I… I thought he was with you.”
“You idiot! I asked you to pick him up from preschool around the same time you pick up Tsumiki from her school because I knew this would take a while!”
“You did?!” Shiu asks, and then it goes quiet; him more than likely flipping through his messages to double check. “...Shit,” he breathes out.
Toji inhales sharply, then exhales shakily in an attempt to calm the rage, and even the fear that pools in his gut. “If anything has happened to my fucking son, Kong, I will murder you and make your death look like an accident. Keep an eye on Tsumiki.”
“Fushiguro, I swear, I-” Toji hangs up before Shiu can explain himself further, then he starts the car.
He grips the steering wheel hard, and his breathing picks up as his mind spins with every horrific scenario possible. The preschool closes at six thirty. It was close to nine. He didn’t see any missed calls from them. On a normal day, he’d be done before work with plenty of time to pick up his four year-old son, but today’s job was far more difficult and required more time.
The car speeds down the street leading to his destination. He’s half-expecting to see Megumi sitting outside with his backpack, clinging to his dog plushie and crying. Or worse, he’s not there at all; because this world is full of terrible people, and they won’t hesitate to steal a small, unsupervised boy. His heart aches at the thought, and he shoves it away before he feels the need to throw up. He’ll be okay, he thinks to himself. Everything is going to be fine.
—
When Toji arrives at the preschool, he rushedly parks lopsidedly in the lot, then exits the car. His eyes scan the steps leading up to the front, and when he doesn’t see Megumi outside, he rushes to the door.
He sees a security guard in a booth, and before Toji can even ask any questions, the guard gives him a small smile and nod, pressing a button that unlocks the door to the preschool with a click. Toji’s shoulders slump in relief. They were expecting him. That meant Megumi is still here and safe.
Toji nods back at the guard in thanks, and rushes down the dimly-lit hallway. He sees a light coming from a classroom that still has its door open, and he slows his steps when he hears a child giggling. His child.
Then it’s followed up by a beautiful, melodic laugh that makes him stop in his tracks. It’s a lovely sound; one that his heart skips to, and one that gently rings in his ears even plenty of seconds after it stops.
Toji peeks into the classroom to see Megumi comfortably resting in a pillow fort, and you, kneeling beside a lamp and using your hands to make shadow puppets on the wall to entertain him. “Alright,” you say softly as you rearrange your hands and fingers. “What’s this one?”
You smile as you watch Megumi hum thoughtfully, and Toji is transfixed by you. Who are you? Where did you come from? Since when did Megumi get a new teacher? Why is your smile so bright and so beautiful that the sun would envy? Why is his heart beating wildly in his chest at the sight of you? Fuck, why is he staring?
“Ooh!” Megumi gasps as he figures out the animal you made with your hands. “Rabbit!”
“Correct, great job!” You reach forward and give him a high-five. “I think you’ll really like this next one,” you say, and Megumi giggles again as he sits up, completely focused and ready to guess. “Ready?” You ask, and the boy nods.
Toji crosses his arms, quietly leans against the door of the classroom, and watches, unaware of the soft smile that creeps onto his face. When you put your hands in front of the light, and the shape of the animal displays in front of Megumi, he squeals excitedly and stands up. “Doggy!” He shouts with a wide grin and pulls up his favorite dog plushie that he takes with him everywhere, imitating the sounds a dog would make. You break out into laughter, and Toji nearly stops breathing so he can fully take in the sound of it again.
Beautiful, he thinks. You’re so fucking beautiful.
Megumi’s eyes flicker towards the door, and he gasps before running as fast as he can towards Toji. “Papa!”
“Hey, Megs.” Toji kneels down, hugs the small boy against his chest before picking him up in his strong arms, sighing in relief as he runs a hand through his dark hair. He’s okay, and he doesn’t look too upset that he was here for this long. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Are you alright?”
“Yeah!” Megumi pulls away, then gestures towards you, who watched the tender reunion with a sweet smile. “Ms. [Y/L/N] played so many fun games with me!”
“Aw, I’m so happy you had fun, Megumi.” You take a step closer so you’re standing in front of Toji, slightly lifting your head upward to meet his eyes due to his height. “We tried calling you, but your phone went straight to voicemail. Megumi said that it does that sometimes. He took a nap earlier, but I’m sure he’ll be sleepy soon after all of those games. I also gave him dinner earlier.”
“That’s… I just-” Toji struggles to find words, especially when you slightly tilt your head to the side and blink slowly. He exhales, then snaps himself out of his daze. “Thank you so much,” he says. “Are you new? I swear, I’m not usually this late.” Great. Megumi’s pretty teacher might think I’m just the worst parent on this damn planet.
You nod. “Yes, I’m new. Today was my first day with this angel,” You use a finger to gently boop Megumi’s nose, and he smiles, shyly burying his face into Toji’s shoulder, “and the other kids. I figured you might’ve been held up at work or something. It’s okay. Things happen. Besides, he’s such a well-behaved kid. I didn’t mind spending this much time with him.”
Toji places Megumi on the ground, then gently taps his shoulder. “Let’s grab your stuff, okay?” As he helps Megumi pack his backpack, Toji bites back a smile when he sees you watching him out of the corner of his eye. He notes the way you fiddle with your hands and avert your gaze after catching yourself.
You walk over to your desk and open a drawer, pulling out three suckers from a sealed jar. Once Megumi had all of his things packed, you kneel before him, handing him the suckers one by one. “Here you go. One for you, one for your sister, and one for your dad. I can tell he works really, really hard.”
Toji doesn’t hide his smile this time; it was impossible, especially when Megumi accepts them excitedly. “Candy! Thank you!” He hugs you gently, and you return it, rubbing your hand up and down his back. “You’re so welcome. Thanks for being so sweet today. You made my first day so fun.”
A muffled gasp coming from outside has the three of you looking towards the window. Toji sees Tsumiki’s face squished against the glass with her usual, excited smile, and Shiu Kong standing beside her, looking relieved when he sees Megumi safe and sound. He purposely avoids Toji’s glare.
The sound of Megumi’s small yawn gets his attention, and Toji’s gaze softens when the boy rubs his tired eyes. “Aw, ‘m sorry. It’s past your bedtime. Let’s get you home.” He leans down to pick him up again, and once you have your belongings, the two of you leave the building together.
When you three make it outside, you face Toji and Megumi. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Megumi,” you say quietly to him, who is slowly beginning to drift off. Then you look up at Toji, who is softly smiling at you. “And I’ll see you tomorrow, too, right?” You ask.
“Yeah, you will.”
You wave goodbye, and Toji makes sure you get into your car safely. “Hey, Megs,” Toji gently shakes Megumi as he watches you drive out of the parking lot. “Do you know her name?”
“Ms. [Y/L/N]”
He chuckles. “No, kid, her first name.”
“I dunno,” Megumi mumbles before closing his eyes and resting his cheek on Toji’s shoulder. “Sleepy, papa.”
“Ah, there they are!” Shiu exclaims, and Toji would’ve thrown a punch if his son wasn’t in his arms, and if his seven year-old daughter wasn’t happily skipping towards him. “Hi, papa!”
“Hi, sweets, how was school today?”
“Good,” Tsumiki says, then grins mischievously as she points to the spot where your car was just a minute ago. “You like her!” She teases. “You wanna hug her and kiss her and give her chocolates!”
“Alright, you.” Toji rolls his eyes and laughs softly as he uses his free arm to lift up a giggly Tsumiki, then presses a kiss to her forehead. “Both of you should be in bed. Let’s get home.”
“Aw, okay.” Tsumiki then leans forward to gently kiss her sleeping baby brother’s cheek. “Night, Gumi.”
Toji secures both Tsumiki and Megumi in his car, and then faces Shiu, who is smiling nervously. “Well, look at that. Megumi’s doing great and you even developed a crush. How cute. All’s well that ends well.”
“Very cute, but guess what?”
“What?”
Toji finally throws a swift punch at Shiu’s jaw, greatly holding back his strength so it wouldn’t break. Shiu stumbles, then groans, cupping his face with his hands. “Okay, fine, I deserved that.”
“Damn right,” Toji says as he opens the door to the driver’s seat. “See you later.”
—
Toji almost never stresses about his appearance in the mornings. After all, it was just dropping off the kids. But this morning, he frets over which shirt would look better with the jeans he picked out, if he should wear a different type of cologne, or if he should slick his hair back.
All because he’s seeing you again.
He decides to skip the new cologne and go for his usual, simple one, dresses in a dark shirt to match the jeans, and also ditches the idea of slicking his hair. Once the kids are ready for the day, he leaves early and goes to a coffee shop to pick up a medium cup of coffee. First, he drops Tsumiki off at school, then he takes Megumi to preschool.
Toji spots you almost immediately. You were out in the front amongst the other preschool teachers, parents and their kids, wearing a gorgeous yellow top and simple blue jeans. When you see Toji and Megumi approaching, you pause your conversation with your coworker and walk over to them. Toji decides that he likes that, and that he loves the way you kneel in front of Megumi to meet his eye level, telling him good morning and asking if he was excited for the day.
You raise to your feet, Toji hands you the cup of coffee he purchased earlier. “For you,” he says, “As a thank you for everything yesterday.”
“Aw.” Your eyes light up as you accept the cup. “Mr. Fushiguro, this—”
“Toji,” he corrects softly, and he ignores the way his heart stutters when your smile grows.
“Well, Toji, this is lovely. Thank you so much.”
“I never caught your name last night.”
You tell him your name, and Toji tests it once. From the way you shyly avert your gaze, he can tell you that like the way it sounds in his voice. Megumi clears his throat, and Toji looks down to see him staring up at him, his brow raised in suspicion. “You never stay this long. Don’t you have to go to work?”
Damn, kid. Thought we were on the same team.
You laugh as Toji rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out at Megumi—a gesture that the four year-old returns immediately. “Well, he’s right, gotta get going,” Toji says, looking back up at you. “I’ll see you later?”
“Yes.” You nod, then point to the warm cup in your hands. “Thanks again for the coffee. Have a great day at work.”
“You too.” Toji then gently ruffles Megumi’s hair. “Be good.”
He doesn’t realize how big he’s smiling until he’s back in the car, and he sighs as he remembers Shiu’s words from the night before. A crush. That word seems so silly. He’s not a teen in high school. Toji looks up just in time to watch you take Megumi’s hand and lead him inside the building with the other children, and he chuckles to himself as he starts the car up.
Maybe “silly” was okay when you’re this pretty.
#i love soft toji#toji fushiguro#toji fushigro x reader#toji x reader#jjk#jjk fluff#toji fluff#posts by rey <3#written by rey <3#jujutsu kaisen
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Hi how are you? If you want, could you tell us what your headcanons would be for what the Sully children's relationship would be like with a human/avatar mother who was mated with Jake and Neytiri? Thank you very much, have a great day!
I can see a lot of possible outcomes for this one! So here ya go! Enjoy!
P.S: Reader will not be given a name in this one, instead she will be called "small mama"
Pinnacle protection
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Pinnacle motherhood
Right off the bat, the whole family loves their third mother, second mate. Jake sully couldn't ask for a better family, and better mates. Especially his little human mate. Neytiri will agree with him, while yes she has her children to hug, her little mate is just what she needs. Something small yet full of love just for her.
Now like any trio, there is a balance between the parents. Jake is the head of the family, the brains with his clever ideas. Neytiri at times can be the brains but most muscle due to her skills in fighting and hunting. And their beloved human is the heart of the family. Keeping everyone together.
And like any child, the sully kids will have favorites. And their favorite is their amazing human mother. She is the most fun, loving parent any child could ever ask for. Are they not getting their way with Jake or neytiri? To mama it is! And mama will always fold by the simple look of her kids.
Another thing about their favorite mama, they all believe she has the power to read their minds. How else would it explain she knows their next move?
Lo’ak and tuk can recall so many instances where they were barely forming an idea only for their mama to say “dont even think about it” or “it is not worth the trouble”.
For neteyam, as he is the oldest he does try to be a good example for his mischievous siblings, along with holding so many responsibilities, but he can always count on his small mama for anything. Small mama consoles him, talking about anything neteyam has his mind about.
Unlike Jake or neytiri who neteyam has to put up a strong warrior face, with a small mama he can revert back to being a baby with her. He feels safe and be a kid again with her. And small mama always called him her “little baby boy”. Neteyam won't admit it but he likes it when she calls him that.
For kiri, she definitely adores her small mama. She is closer to her third parent than she is with neytiri. Not to be mean or anything. But with Jake, Kiri can talk about what odd things happen around her, ask her about her mother and stuff but with her small mama. Well, she can express far more with her, be free to say anything not be judged upon. Kiri can dare say small mama understands her more than anyone in the world.
With tuk, the baby of the family. Why, she loves to be the taller one, it makes her happy. Of course she would never tease her small mama that she is taller, but small mama would call her “tiny tuk”. A name tuk loves and will glady flex it for some reason.
If tuk can't go somewhere with her older siblings, small mama would personally take her anywhere she wants to go. As long as it is safe. With small mama, everything is fun and never boring. Tuk loves the times where her hair is braided or she braids small mama’s hair.
Now, if small mama would use her avatar, nothing much would change. Except that now the kids will demand piggy back rides. Tuk or lo’ak would be front of the line for that.
Hunting would be easier and much more fun with jake and neytiri, running, riding their ikrans, less risk overall.
Even with her avatar, she is still short compared to her two mates. She is smaller than Neytiri by 9 ½ inches. Not something she is super thrilled about. No matter what body, she is still small mama through and through.
Small mama is forever grateful to live her best life with her family, loving them and saying her thanks to Eywa for blessing her to be the best of her two worlds. Through hardships, through trials, small mama has a mighty heart and a roar of an ikran. Yes sometimes she might be stressed or frustrated but life is not perfect. Small mama knows that all too well. But there is nothing better than what she has.
#avatar#avatar the way of water#na'vi x reader#na'vi avatar#avatar 2#na'vi x human#lo'ak#neteyam sully#kiri#jake sully#jake x y/n#jake x reader x neytiri#jake x reader#jake x neytiri#jake x mc#jake sully avatar#jake sully x neytiri#jake sully x reader#jake sully x reader x neytiri#neytiri te tskaha mo'at'ite#neytiri x reader#neytiri sully#neytiri x jake#neytiri avatar#neytiri x human reader#neytiri x you#neytiri x y/n#neteyam x human reader#neteyam x reader#neteyam x you
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Unleashed - Avengers!Bucky/Fem!Reader
✦ Pairing: Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader
✦ Word count: ~4,2k
✦ Rating: Explicit
✦ Warnings/tags: Sex pollen adjacent kinda, smut, a bit fluffy, one shot, possessive!Bucky, co-workers/friends to lovers, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praise, creampie, pet names (doll).
✦ Summary: During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions and all he wants is you.
✦ Note: Previously posted on AO3 since I have basically no time or energy to write new stuff. It was titled You’re what I need before but I always hated that title so I decided to re-name it. Bucky is kind of an asshole in this, but it's just because he wants you! As always, reblogs, comments, and asks are very welcome ❤️
Masterlist | AO3
The worst part about watching from afar as a mission goes to shit is that you feel useless. Even as you dispatch medics for the team all you can do is tell them, "Help is on the way."
Captain America shouts orders that you hear through the comms. The wait feels endless until the crew of the quinjet declares that they have spotted the team and there's not much else for you to do but look at your monitors and wait for an update. When you get the call back that the team is secure you breathe a sigh of relief, but then the next message is to prepare the medical staff to receive multiple injuries and chemical exposure. You ask the crew to clarify, but they are too busy, so when you notify the medical center, they prepare a quarantine room.
Sometimes you wish you had a superpower and could be there with them instead of staring at your monitors and doing endless calculations on whatever the team needs. But then when they return they always compliment your work and tell you they don’t know how they managed without you. You try to remind yourself of those moments at times like this.
Once the quinjet is docked and everyone has been accounted for you push away from your desk and remove your headset, taking deep breaths and trying to calm your heart. A moment later a message pops up on your screen, probably because they couldn’t reach you through your comms. [Bucky wants you to come down here]
Your heart does a little flip in your chest, making you scowl. He is your friend and probably injured, you have no idea why he would be asking for you, but it’s not because he feels the same way you do. You grab your tablet and head to the MedBay.
When you get down you take stock of the situation. Nat and Steve have some scratches, Sam's arm is broken and Wanda has a few cracked ribs. Tony is bruised, his suit had taken most of the damage. You look around for Bucky but don’t see him anywhere and quickly deduce that he must be the person currently in quarantine.
When you get to the wing, you’re almost too scared to go in, afraid to see what could have happened to him. Inside, you find a team of medical personnel discussing Bucky's condition with him through a glass wall. His hair looks damp and he's wearing standard-issue quarantine clothing, soft black pants, and a black sweatshirt. When he sees you standing patiently at the side he says. "You can come back later. I need to talk to her more than I need to talk to you. Go away." His voice comes from speakers in the ceiling.
You're shocked by his behavior but smile apologetically as the white coats pass you on their way out. When you get up to the glass you hiss. "Bucky, what is wrong with you, don't be rude.” "You make it sound like I'm never rude otherwise," he laughs. "You're not rude to healthcare professionals, you know better." You glare at him as you wake your tablet. “Now what did you need me for?”
"Do you like me?" he asks. Your mouth falls open and your heart starts to beat faster. You’re happy your vitals aren’t monitored as you quickly collect yourself and try to deflect his question. "Of course I like you Bucky, you're my friend." But now it feels weird to look at him and you find a spot on the wall far behind him to focus on.
"What if I want more than friends?" is his next question and despite your best efforts, hope warms your chest. This is not happening. Of course you toyed with the idea of you and Bucky, he is always sweet to you, and if he has the chance he brings you gifts from the missions. But you’ve told yourself repeatedly that he needs someone stronger, who can keep up with him in the field and you’re not that person.
"Can we have this conversation when you are not high on some HYDRA drug?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from betraying you. They are monitoring everything in the room. And there is a sheet of unbreakable glass in between you both. If you're going to confess your feelings, it won't be like this.
"I'm not high," he huffs. "My mind has never been clearer." "I still think we should have this conversation later." "Doll, look at me." The command in his voice is so strong you don’t think, you snap your eyes to his and they are so blue and soft.
"I will feel the same tomorrow, and the day after, whenever this drug wears off but now is the only time I can't hold my tongue," he explains. You place your hand on the glass and he does the same on the other side. "It will be fine Bucky, I promise," you say just as the door opens and Steve walks in, making you pull your hand back to your side. He's showered, in a fresh pair of clothes and he swings his arm over your shoulder.
"Stop hogging her time Bucky, I know for a fact that she also needs to debrief," he smiles but Bucky looks as if he's seeing red. Through gritted teeth he presses out, "Get your fucking arm off her, punk. She's mine."
You and Steve burst into laughter because it has to be a joke, but then Bucky punches the barrier with his vibranium arm. The glass doesn't crack but both you and Steve stop short and step away in shock. Steve removes his arm and says, "I'll meet you upstairs." Before quickly heading out.
You turn to Bucky and point at him, anger rising in your chest. "What is wrong with you? Steve is your friend!" "That is what it’s like in here every day,” he points to his head. You're taken aback by his statement and his wide feral eyes. Clearly, whatever he was exposed to had messed with his head and he's not himself. “Bucky I need to go,” you tell him, and before he can protest you continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile feebly at him and are out the door before he can say anything else.
After debriefing and having dinner you go to bed early. Your head is spinning with the day and most of all, Bucky.
It's way past midnight when you wake to the soft closing of your door. Since you always sleep with a night light the soft warm glow reflects off his left arm and leaves no doubt about who has entered your room. You blink at him but before you can ask a question he rasps out, pleading. "I need you. So bad. Please doll, help me." He moves closer to your bed.
You quickly remove your covers and get up, glad the giant t-shirt covers you to your thighs, ready to spring into action. "Anything Bucky, what do you need?" You stop an arm's length from him, but all he does is reach his hand out to cup your face, letting his thumb stroke your cheek. There is a wild look in his eyes but you keep calm. "I can't get you what you need if you don't tell me," you whisper, meeting his eyes and watching as his brow furrows.
"I need you. Right now. If I don't get to touch and taste every inch of your body I'm going to lose my mind," he confesses in a low voice. His words shock you and you hitch a breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You have this great friendship. If things were different you would not have minded taking it to another level, but with the day in mind and the fact that he somehow got out of his containment room you say, "Bucky, you’re not yourself, you need to get back to-”
"Doll,” he interrupts with a hard voice. “For once, I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. The only thing the drug did, I think, was remove my inhibitions. For once I feel free. My mind isn't controlled by HYDRA or by fear that you'll reject me. All I know is that I crave you and I can't be quiet about it anymore.”
"Bucky… I…" your whole body is flushed with warmth from his words and you're not sure how to respond. "I dreamt about you and couldn't stop myself from going over here. I don't want to hurt you, doll, but I'm not sure this drug will let me leave. All I wanna do is move closer to you.” You swallow hard as he continues, thumb still stroking your cheek. “Ask FRIDAY to get Steve, or the Hulk if you want me to leave."
Instead, you step into him, making up your mind in an instant and resting your hands on his chest. "Stay, I'll be glad to help you with anything you need," you whisper honestly and by the way his eyes widen there was still some doubt in his mind that you would reject him.
Instead of saying anything his vibranium hand grasps your waist and pulls you closer. There is no escaping the smell and size of him and his hands on you got your pussy throbbing for him already.
"I hope you understand what you've agreed to," he whispers, leaning closer. "Once I have you I won't stop, you'll never be rid of me. I'll claim you against every surface of this fucking compound if I need to." That makes you whimper and press harder against him. "Fuck you'd like that huh? Are you a kinky little thing? Like getting fucked where people can see you and hear you moan, do you want people to see my hard dick spread you open?" "Fuck Bucky!" You exclaim and lean your forehead against his chest. Maybe that idea excites you or maybe it is just that the word ‘claim’ sounds so primal.
"You're going to tell me all your little secrets later, doll. But now, I'm going to take what's mine." And with that, he crushes his lips to yours. He backs you towards the bed, kissing you the whole time, letting his hands explore you. When you land on your back, he stands over you with eyes like a predator about to devour its prey.
You shuffle up until your head rests on the pillows, spreading your legs for him. Without taking off any clothes he crawls after you, settling on his knees between your legs and placing his hands on the headboard, crowding you with his large frame. "Mine," he whispers and it makes a shudder pass through you. He ruts his clothed cock against your core, slicking your underwear even more and making you whine, gripping the sheets under you.
"Yes," he almost hisses as the length of his dick presses on your clit and forces a mewl out of you. It's been a long time since you've gotten laid. "Bucky," you plead. "No doll, I'm going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you, from the outside in. Did you think this would be hard and fast and that I would be gone before you knew what happened?"
He lets go of the headboard to put his elbows beside your head instead, his weight on you, pressing you down into the mattress. "When I leave you will long for me, spend every waking second wishing I was still inside you. I want your cunt to be permanently drenched so I can fuck you whenever I please." He kisses you forcefully and any coherent thought that was left in your head flees. "And when you're too sore to take more of my dick in your pussy I'm going to do the same thing to your mouth and ass."
He rids you off your t-shirt and instead of having to move from between your legs to pull off your underwear, he rips them apart. "Ah!" you exclaim when the force of his movements jolts you but he takes no notice, he just stares at you, letting his hands roam up and down your sides, up to your tits, cupping them and caressing your nipples with his thumbs.
Whimpers are coming from you with every pass of this touch. Then he moves down and lays on his stomach, not saying a word as he sweeps his tongue over your pussy before he starts devouring you with a throaty moan.
It doesn’t take long for the first orgasm to take you, his movements are precise and his words and actions have made you hornier than you’ve ever experienced. Or maybe it's because he is the hottest person you’ve ever laid eyes on and he only wants you.
When you’re finished and sensitive he dips his tongue into your hole to taste you and groans loudly, lapping up the wetness from your orgasm. "Better than I've dreamed of," he says when he pulls away. Now you’re the one that must be high because you can't help but giggle. "You seriously dream of me?" "All the time, doll. Every night when I go to bed I wish you were with me and then you plague my sleep with your soft curves and radiant smile."
You're about to tell him how his laugh makes you warm and fuzzy on the inside but at that moment he sucks your clit into his mouth, cutting out every thought in your brain. He's gentle but not hesitant, it's as if he's feeling you out and when you make a particularly loud sound he continues the same movement, making your whole body go hot.
The second orgasm is intense enough to send aftershocks through for a long while afterward. Bucky lays his head on your thigh as you tremble, caressing your skin and letting the fingers of his right hand skim over your opening.
Despite what he's already given you, you still crave more. His fingertips never come close to where you need them and when you whine at the back of your throat Bucky smiles up at you. "Don't worry, I'm not even close to done with you, but I don't want you to pass out on me.” One of his fingers glides inside, making you take a sharp breath just because it feels so good. Once again he is careful, moving slowly, listening to your breath and your body.
"Please Bucky, I need more.” "No need to beg, I'll give you everything you want… in time," he breathes and kisses the skin on the inside of your thigh. Slowly he moves his finger in and out. You're sure it's a form of torture. The sweetest kind there is. Your breathing is labored and when he finally adds a second, you start to quiver.
He nips at your skin and then kisses it before speaking. "You look like a goddess, doll, eyes filled with lust, your skin is gleaming. I'm going to worship you until you're tired of me.” "Never gonna happen," you whimper. Then his thumb lands on your clit, making you cry out. Everything is so sensitive and overstimulated.
"I don't- Bucky, I don't think I can again," you tell him even though his touches are causing your insides to melt. "Yes, you will," his voice is soft but the command is clear. So instead of trying to speak again, you sink further into the madness that is him playing with you. The third one takes its sweet time but you never feel rushed or stressed that it's taking too long. Bucky isn’t in a hurry.
Then it’s suddenly there, crashing through you. "Fuck Bucky, fuck you're gonna make me come." "So good for me, let me feel you come on my fingers," he urges. "I'm going to lick them clean afterward so make sure you get them nice and wet for me. I want as much as you'll give me." The climax reaches its peak and you come with a cry of his name, body convulsing and your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair.
"Just like that doll," he smiles up at you and holds your gaze when he pulls out his fingers and sucks them clean, moaning while he does. It's a filthy sound, but it turns you on as if he didn't just make you come for the third time. Then he dives in between your legs again, licking at your skin and your soaked hole. Letting go of his hair all you can do is just lie there, writhing, as he somehow coaxes a fourth orgasm out of you.
“Fuck me,” you plead when he pulls back. “I need you inside me Bucky.” This time he takes pity on you and moves away to take off his clothes. When he’s naked he kneels between your legs again and you spread them as wide as you can. "Want me, doll?" he asks with a smirk. He swipes his cock through your mess and then uses his hand to coat himself with you. "Yes," is all you can say. Both you and Bucky stare as he pushes his dick into you, filling you up completely. Of course, he takes it torturously slow this time too.
"This feels better than any dream I've ever had," he whispers almost in awe. You grip his biceps and arch into him, pushing him deeper, faster. That makes him tsk but smiles at the same time as he pushes the rest of the way, finally seating himself. Without giving you a chance to relax he starts fucking you, his cock pushes perfectly against your insides, pulling sounds from you that you haven't made in years.
He sits back on his heels lifting your ass effortlessly until your weight is resting on your shoulders and neck. It's like he is in a trance, pulling you onto his cock over and over again. Your body is his, your mind has fled, and all you see and feel is just him all around you. His eyes keep changing between his dick filling your cunt, your bouncing tits, and your half-lit eyes as if he is not sure where to look. "Mine," he rasps and thrusts hard to empathize the word. "All mine. Say it."
It takes some time for your brain to connect to your mouth and form the words but his gaze never leaves you. "Yours," you whimper. "I'm yours, Bucky." There is a familiar heat low in your belly that's steadily spreading through your limbs. It makes you wiggle and move because it's overwhelming. He is overwhelming in the best sense. Whining you reach down to rub yourself but he slaps your hand away. "I thought I told you, it's mine. I own this cunt. If you wanna touch yourself you have to ask permission." It's as close to a growl as is humanly possible and you don't understand how he can be so cognizant right now, because your brain is like putty. "Can I please rub my clit Bucky, I wanna come on your cock so bad," you cry.
"Good girl," he praises, and when he calls you that, your mouth falls open with a keening sound, gripping the sheets even harder, pulling at them because you want to come so bad. "Do it, show me how you get off when you're alone in bed without me." Everything is slippery and sensitive when you start with your fingers and you immediately know it's going to go fast. With his previous words in mind, you ask. "Can I come?" He meets your eyes with a wicked smile. "Fast learner. Yeah, you can come… when I tell you."
You rip your hand away, afraid you might fall over the edge at any second. The sound out of your throat is almost a sob. "Don't be like that, doll, I thought you said you couldn't do it more times?" "I can-I can! As many times as you want just please let me come." "Fuck, I like it when you beg with my cock in you." But he doesn't say anything else, just continues fucking you. He's not even winded while you're straining your entire body. Your hand wants to move back, anything to relieve the pressure inside you but Bucky was very clear and you don’t want to disobey him.
Then he pulls out and drops you onto the bed, but you don't get to relax because he flips you onto your stomach and pushes one of your knees up to the side before he presses in. His dick hits your G-spot dead on and you scream into the pillow under you. Bucky chuckles right by your ear. "Guess I found it." He's merciless, his hips hit your ass hard and if it weren't for his weight pressing you down you would soon hit the headboard.
"Bucky!" you wail because it's too much. You're losing the last pieces of your mind to the sheer force of the pleasure and you're scared you're never going to be able to come back to yourself. Then his hand presses in between you and the mattress. "Rub yourself on my fingers, make yourself cum. Fuck my cock and come all over me doll." You brace yourself as best you can and move your hips as he keeps almost completely still, just shallow thrusts in stark comparison to what he was doing to you just moments ago.
His fingers slide along your clit, his cock brushing your G-spot over and over again. You're breathless, sweat breaking out along your skin, but the climax you're chasing will be well worth it. You just know it.
"I can't fill you up until I’ve felt you come around me," he grunts, his voice tight with holding back. You whimper, the feeling of fire flushing your whole body, and building up to an eruption like no other. "Yes, yes, yes," he chants low in your ear. "That's it, come for me, make me proud. Fuck it feels so good." And he starts moving again "I'm going to fill you fucking full of my cum. That's it!"
The heat in you breaks and you come with a shout of his name, shaking under him. It gets even more intense when Bucky finishes right behind you, groaning your name. He collapses on top of you but his hips are still moving, slowly, as if he doesn’t want it to ever end. Neither would you but your body is wrecked.
When he finally rolls off, you're so close to falling asleep, but he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Pee." He points and you want to tell him that you know the drill, this isn't your first time, but all that comes out is a grumble before he closes the door behind him and you sit down on the toilet.
When you're done, you stumble out and have a moment of panic, thinking he left. But then the door opens and Bucky returns with two bottles of water, handing you one before leading you to the bed and sitting you down on the edge. Gratefully you drink and lean against his shoulder before asking. "How do you feel?" "Better than I have in a long time," he answers, kissing your forehead. You chuckle. "Yeah I have a magical pussy, it can cure anything," you joke and it makes him laugh. "You should get back to quarantine," you comment. "Before anyone notices." He shakes his head. "No I'm staying here, I'm never leaving you again." He takes the bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table together with his own. Then he crawls beneath the sheets and you go after him, letting him envelop you in a tight embrace before you fall asleep.
Alarms blare and you wake with a start. "FRIDAY what's going on?" you ask out into the room. “Sergeant Barnes has escaped his confinement.” The voice echoes through the room. You sigh and glare at Bucky grumbling beside you, like the loud signal is just a regular alarm clock. "FRIDAY please inform the team that Bucky is here and everything is fine."
A second later the sound dies and with a sigh you get up to pull on yesterday's discarded t-shirt and find a pair of pants. Right when you're done there is a knock on the door and Steve asks, "Everything okay in there?" You open the door enough to show yourself. "We're fine, he broke out during the night and came here." "Oh," Steve says and there is a hint of blush on his cheeks.
Then you feel a presence behind you and Bucky’s arm goes around your waist. "Mine," he says and you can't see him but he's probably glaring daggers at Steve who backs away. "We'll be okay, I'll alert FRIDAY if I need help," you tell Steve. When you close the door Bucky turns you before pushing you up against it and kissing you hard. "Mine," he mumbles against your lips. "Fucking caveman," you tell him. He grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder. "I'll show you caveman," he says and carries you to the bed
#veltana writes#bucky barnes#avengers!bucky barnes#bucky smut#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#posessive!bucky barnes#possessive!bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#possessive!bucky#posessive!bucky x reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky fic#bucky fanfic
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Could I get Adam, Lute and Lucifer and how they 'court' the reader? Like how birds with court each other, little gifts, wing 'dances', nesting, etc...
Also, could I be your 🐌 anon? <3<3<3
Birds of a Feather
Adam, Lute and Lucifer courting you
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Peacocking has nothing on The First Man
• His personality is amped up to the highest level when he sees you walk in a room
• (Overcompensation for how fucking nervous you make him)
• Adam gets cocky when he knows he has your attention
• Tossing grapes high in the air and catching them in his mouth, bragging louder than usual about something or the other
• Heaven forbid you laugh at any of his antics, (His smirk is dangerous, “Oh you like that?”) he’ll start singling you out in front of everyone, calling your name before he acts up
• Performances include inviting you to watch his band play and miraculously getting more energy
• Casually tosses guitar picks in your direction— and when he finds out you kept one!? He’s over the moon
• He won’t go out of his way to get you food but he’ll order you something if he goes somewhere
• Adam hates nesting. He doesn’t like being stressed in general and nesting is really fucking stressful!
• The very fact seeing you pricks the urge in him to nest drives him insane
• (AKA, he likes you a lot more than he thought he did!)
• Seeing you in his space does something he doesn’t particularly hate though
• “It’s whatever if you don’t like it.” Adam shrugs
• “No, I think it looks nice! Very you. Tell me about these pictures?”
• He’s fucking done for
˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Like they have a mind of their own, her wings stretch out and audibly fluff up when she makes eye contact with you
• Mortifying is an understatement
• She picks out trinkets to give to you at first, something small that could be waved off as insignificant
• Later, when Lute realizes her affections are returned, she brings useful offerings or something you offhandedly mentioned needing
• She wishes she could tell you about the exterminations solely to brag
• See how fierce she is, how skilled she is, how good of a protector she could be for you
• Lute will ask you to arm wrestle as a compromise. She gets to hold you hand and show off her strength!
• Nesting was fine, it was the judgment part that drove her up a wall
• Watching your eyes roam over her apartment, deciding whether or not it was good enough for you? Gah!
• “What, uh—“ Lute clears her throat, she’ll hate herself for even asking later, “What do you think?”
• You smile knowingly, something else that makes her absolutely mad, “It’s perfect.”
• Lute beams with pride like she’s won a great victory
˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Never before has he felt the need to actually flaunt.. anything?
• With you it hits him like a fucking train and it’s even harder to supress it
• He’s Lucifer! That’s supposed to be self explanatory, that’s supposed to be enough
• Suddenly he’s checking every mirror on his way to you, making sure he looks better than he feels
• He tries to find other ways to steal your attention or show that he would be a worthy partner
• …But showing off his wings couldn’t hurt, right? He has six after all. If you needed to get to the other side of town he’d be more than happy to fly you over!
• Nothings too good for you! If Lucifer thinks you’ll want or like something, he’s buying it!
• Did you notice he can make things too? He’ll make you something— or fix something for you!
• Quick, break that so he can show you he can fix it!
• Lucifer pulls all the stops trying to prove himself, nesting is no exception… he’s just not great at it
• He starts! However a little after beginning he realizes just how big his mansion is and gets overwhelmed so he closes all the doors and focuses his energy on the only room that matters; his
• “I mainly stay in here,” Lucifer explains while squishing a duck in his fist, watching you explore his room, “I cleaned it up for you! N-Not for you, not for that— I mean not that I’m opposed! I just meant so that you could, uh, see?”
• “I see why you like it, I’d never wanna leave.”
• You’re gonna kill him saying shit like that
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ 🐌 CAN I GIVE YOU A KITH BECAUSE THIS WAS SO FUN!!!!!
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel headcanons#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar headcanon#lucifer morningstar imagine#hazbin hotel adam headcanon#hazbin hotel adam imagine#hazbin hotel adam x reader#lute headcanon#lute imagine#lute x reader
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BELLYACHE. (PART 1)
pairing: Prohero!kiribaku × Prohero!Reader
synopsis: You were in love with your best friends but were certain they didn't feel the same as they feel for each other, so you did what anyone would do, in an attempt to save yourself from heartbreak, you disappeared from Japan back to your home country after graduation, leaving everyone behind.
+*. • contains angst, slight jealousy (?), reader is a foreign exchange student, krbk and reader are bestfriends, misunderstandings, krbk aren't in an established relationship, required unrequited love, reader runs from their problems, eventual happy ending (poly)
note: this was sitting in my drafts for so long, this series will probably have a max of 3 parts depending on how much angst I wanna cut or include🤭
part 2 | part 3
The halls of U.A. felt more like home than ever, and yet, it was bittersweet. You walked alongside Bakugo and Kirishima, their banter filling the air. Bakugo's gruff voice mixed with Kirishima's hearty laughter—sounds that had become a constant in your life over the past three years. But today, you felt a little distant, not quite part of the trio, more like a shadow trailing behind them.
You glanced at them for a moment, catching the playful glint in Bakugo's eye as he shoved Kirishima's shoulder at a lame joke, and Kirishima's sharp smile that only widened in response. It was a scene you'd grown to love—too much, in fact. A sigh escaped your lips before you could stop it.
I never stood a chance.
That thought had been a whisper in the back of your mind for months, but now, with graduation approaching, it was louder than ever. You saw the way they looked at each other—the subtle glances, the easy smiles, the unspoken understanding that passed between them. It was clear they had something special, a bond that went beyond friendship. And you? You were just a person who couldn't hold a candle to either of them, never quite on the same level.
Bakugo and Kirishima had always had a connection that you could never quite breach, and you've finally accepted that you never would. They understood each other in a way that left you feeling like an outsider, even though you were their bestfriend. But that was all you were, wasn't it?
Bakugo and Kirishima couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in your demeanor. They didn't speak of it, but the thought was there, nagging at the back of their minds like an itch they couldn't scratch. You were a crucial part of their world, a balance to their intense, chaotic energy, and the thought of losing that balance even just a little bothered them more than they'd care to admit. There were feelings that neither of them dared to acknowledge, let alone act on.
Back when you transferred during the first year of U.A, the odds were stacked against you. As a foreign student coming into U.A, you knew you'd have to work harder than anyone else to prove that you belonged there. The language barrier, the cultural differences and the high standards of a prestigious school-all weighed heavily on your shoulders. But you were determined.
From the moment you set foot on the campus, you heard the whispers and curious glances of the other students, but they didn't faze you. Instead, they fueled you. You had to be better, faster, stronger—there was no room for doubt.
Your first encounter with Bakugo happened during combat training as you've been randomly paired up together by Aizawa. You heard what people said about him—about his explosive temper. But you didn't back down, much like you, he fought with the drive to be the best of the best.
The battle was fierce, both of you pushing each other to your limits. Before any of you could push yourselves too far, you were separated with Aizawa's capture scarf. After assessing your fight, it was deemed a stalemate, both of you breathless and covered in sweat. Disappointed with your loss, you felt something shift after your fight. While he didn't want to acknowledge it, Bakugo saw you as someone who could match his fire. From then on, there was a mutual respect between you, even if neither of you said it out loud.
Your encounter with Kirishima went much differently. It was during a late-night study session in the library, weeks after your transfer. You had been struggling with a particularly difficult concept, frustration and anxiety bubbling as time seemed to run closer and closer toward the third exam. Kirishima noticed and without a second thought, pulled up a chair beside you, offering his help with an easy smile. He was to your surprise, pretty patient, explaining things in a way that made everything click. The day after getting back your score on the exam, you gave him snacks from your home country as a thank you gift. That night, not only did you learn about the subject matter—you learned that Kirishima had a heart as solid as the walls he could create with his Quirk. From then on, he made it his mission to include you in everything, making sure you never felt out of place.
From then on, the three of you formed a bond that felt unbreakable.They both came to care for you as one of their best friends, and over time, you started to realize that they were more than just people in your pursuit to prove yourself—they were the people you trusted most.
They understood your struggles and admired the strength it took for you to come this far. Through countless training, late-night study sessions, and quiet moments together, they became more than just classmates-they became your best friends. And you, in turn, became theirs.
Your feelings for Bakugo and Kirishima didn't happen all at once. It was a slow, gradual process. At first, you admired them for their strengths but over time, something shifted. The admiration you felt for them started to evolve into something deeper, something that went beyond friendship.
It was in the small moments that your feelings began to grow. Each moment became more meaningful, and you found yourself looking forward to them, craving their presence in a way that made your heart race.
But it wasn't until an overwhelming sense of doubt started to gnaw at the back of your mind. They were your best friends, you knew how much they value their friendship, not just with you but with each other. The bond you all had was precious and the thought of disrupting your dynamic terrified you. The last thing you wanted was to be the reason for any tension or division.
You had seen firsthand how strong their connection was with each other, how they complement one another in ways that seemed effortless. They had a bond that you feared you could never fully understand or be a part of. So, you buried your feelings, convincing yourself that it was for the best.
It was better to remain their friend than to risk everything for something you knew was impossible.
Graduation day came and went in a blur. While saying your goodbyes to your classmates, you were stopped by Bakugo and Kirishima who had asked you what agency you were joining, both of them waiting for your answer in anticipation, wondering if you'd all fight alongside each other. Your chest tightened painfully as you dodged the question.
You were transferring back to your home country.
The decision was made before your enrollment at U.A. As they looked at you, faces filled with pride after surviving not only high school, but one of the top hero schools in the country (not to mention fighting a literal war before the end of their freshman year). You couldn't bear to tell them the truth-not when they looked at you with warm smiles that made you wish things could be different.
Instead, you left quietly. You'd already packed your things, already arranged your transfer. You didn't even say goodbye in person, just left a message that you were heading back home. It was a wimp's way out, you knew that. You'd always prided yourself on facing challenges head-on, but the thought of telling them you were leaving, telling them you might never see them again—that was a challenge you couldn't handle.
You stared at the message on your phone, fingers trembling as they hovered over the 'send' button. Once you pressed it, that would be it, no turning back.
You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to be brave and hit 'send': The message was short, deliberately vague, because you couldn't write what you really felt.
I'm heading back home. I'll miss you guys. Thank you for everything. - Y/N
For a moment, you stared at the screen, half-hoping they would reply instantly, asking for more details, demanding an explanation. But the minutes ticked by with no response. Maybe they were busy celebrating, caught up in the excitement of graduation. Or maybe they just didn't care.
You sighed, sliding your phone into your pocket. It was better this way. Easier for them, easier for you.
No messy goodbyes, no tears. Just a clean break.
As you walked away from the school grounds for the last time, from the second place you've called home, you couldn't help but glance back over your shoulder. The massive gates of U.A. loomed behind you, a symbol of everything you were leaving behind.
But you had to keep moving forward. And as painful as it was, you knew you were making the right choice. Still, as the plane took off, lifting you away from the life you'd built, you allowed yourself one final, quiet thought:
I'II always love you both.
Life hit you fast, in the weeks that passed after leaving Japan, you kept busy; getting hired as a rookie at your city's agency, diving into missions, and patrolling the familiar streets from your childhood.
It kept your mind occupied, the stray feelings of homesickness that quietly built up as you left your home to follow your dreams lifted. You were back to the city and its people you grew up with, back to your old roots, to your first home, whom you swore to protect.
But it didn't stop you from missing them. The longing gnawed at you in quiet moments, the ache of being apart from the people who meant the most to you.
Your silence didn't go unnoticed, your old circle of friends, including Kirishima and Bakugo reached out often—texts, calls, voice messages. You knew they were angry that you left, especially without a proper goodbye, but leaving without anyone holding you back was the best choice you could've made.
Ironically the guilt of abandoning your friends slowly pushed you from any sort of contact. You replied at first, brief responses. But slowly, you began to pull back, letting the messages go unread, letting the calls ring out. It hurt too much to hear their voices, to pretend everything was fine when it wasn't.
It wasn't long before you were ghosting them completely, blaming it under the false pretense of a busy work schedule.
Months passed. The guilt of avoiding them weighed heavily on you, but it felt necessary to protect your heart. You threw yourself into your work. You were a rookie after all, and you were determined to make a name for yourself, no matter how slowly you climbed up the ranks, hoping that someday, the ache would lessen.
One day, you received an email for a mission briefing in Tokyo—a high-profile case, something about an undercover mission that required cooperation between multiple agencies. They asked for you and your senior to attend. You weren't expecting anything as you took a plane back to Japan, the city was so large, you didn't think of the possibility of running into your old friends.
Once you arrived, you checked in with your assistant, receiving a tablet with the mission files and your hero badge for easier introduction among the agencies.
As you walked into the conference room, your eyes wandered around the room, taking note of who attended. Your heart stopped the moment your eyes landed on familiar ash-blonde hair.
Bakugo's eyes locked onto you the second you stepped into the room, a mixture of surprise and something unreadable in his gaze. You averted your eyes quickly, your heart pounding in your chest. Of all the people you could have run into, of course it had to be them.
Kirishima arrived a few minutes later, Tamaki and Mirio chatting alongside him. When Kirishima caught your gaze, his face lit up with a grin, waving in your direction. You managed a strained smile, nodding in acknowledgment, but didn't trust yourself to speak.
Bakugo was staring at you intently, his gaze never wavering. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, and it made your skin prickle.
The beeping of a timer indicating the start of the meeting silenced the room. Your hero partner and assistant took the vacant spots on either side of you and you couldn't help but imagine if you didn't leave, maybe you would have been assigned this mission together.
The meeting felt like it dragged on forever. You avoided looking in the direction of either of them, keeping your focus on the mission briefing. When a break was finally called, you stepped out for air, heading for the rooftop to clear your head.
The city stretched out before you as you leaned against the ledge, the familiar sights and sounds of traffic below grounding you. You closed your eyes, breathing in the crisp air, trying to steady your racing heart.
"You've been avoiding us."
Bakugo's voice cut through the quiet, and you stiffened, your eyes snapping open. You hadn't even heard him approach.
"I've been busy." you replied after a moment, keeping your tone as neutral as possible.
"That's bullshit, and you know it."
You sighed, running a hand through your hair, but didn't turn to face him. *What do you want me to say, Bakugo?"
"The truth would be nice," he said, stepping closer until he was beside you, his eyes locked on your face.
You bit your lip, refusing to meet his gaze. You knew he could see right through you, and you hated it. You hated how vulnerable he made you feel, how just a look from him could unravel all the defenses you'd so carefully built.
"There's nothing to say." you muttered, trying to sidestep the conversation, hoping he would drop it.
"Bullshit." Bakugo repeated, his voice sharp but tinged with worry. He wasn't one to back down easily, and you knew that if you stayed there any longer, he'd pry the truth out of you. "You've been avoiding us for months. You don't just drop out of our lives without a damn good reason."
You could feel the frustration rolling off him in waves, but you kept your back to him, staring out at the city below. "I told you. I've been busy. New city, new job—“
"Cut the crap." Bakugo interrupted, his voice low. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming.
"You've never run from anything. So what the hell is really going on?"
The words you'd been holding back for so long clawed at your throat, but you couldn't let them out.
You couldn't face the possibility that admitting your feelings would ruin everything—whatever was left, anyway.
You thought about the consequences of spilling your feelings. If you said what you really felt right now, what's the guarantee that it wouldn't affect the mission? If your feelings aren't reciprocated, and Bakugo tells Kirishima about your conversation, where would that put you? You couldn't afford to put yourself in that position, risking your focus and letting your team down. They had each other, and you had... well, you had yourself.
You shook your head at your thoughts, forcing a neutral tone. "It doesn't matter. Let's just get back to the meeting."
Before Bakugo could protest, you walked away, your hurried steps putting distance between you and the conversation you weren't ready to have. You knew Bakugo wasn't convinced, but you hoped he'd at least drop it for now. If he kept pressing, you didn't know if you'd be able to hold it together.
The meeting wrapped up eventually, and you made sure to slip out before either Bakugo or Kirishima could catch up with you. Knowing Bakugo, he most likely already told Kirishima about your conversation on the rooftop and you couldn't handle another confrontation, not after the last had left you feeling so raw. You needed time to think, time to steel yourself for the upcoming mission.
You stayed at one of your agency's temporary apartments, the busy life of Tokyo echoing in the night. You tried to distract yourself with preparations, going over the mission details again and again. But your thoughts kept drifting back to Bakugo, to the look in his eyes when he'd confronted you, to the way Kirishima had smiled at you in the conference room like nothing had changed.
A few days before the mission, you headed to the support department to pick up your upgraded stealth suit. The techs had been working on integrating some new enhancements to better suit your Quirk, and you were eager to see how it had turned out. You slipped into the fitting room and pulled on the suit, testing the fit and flexibility. It was perfect, as expected, and you felt a small sense of satisfaction at the way it hugged your form.
As you stepped out of the fitting room, you nearly collided with someone standing just outside. You looked up to find Sero grinning down at you, his usual easygoing smile stretching wide across his face.
"Yo, Y/N! Long time no see," he greeted, giving you a playful nudge.
You couldn't help but smile back. "Hey, Hanta. What are you doing here?"
"Just picking up some adjustments on my gear. Looks like you got some upgrades too," he said, eyeing your new suit with approval.
"Yeah, just some minor tweaks." you replied, flexing your hands and feeling the fabric move with you.
Sero tilted his head, studying you for a moment. "You've been pretty quiet lately. Haven't seen you in the group chat for a while."
You tensed, the familiar guilt creeping in. "Uh, just been busy."
"Uh-huh," Sero said, not buying your excuse. He didn't push, though, just smiled and clapped a hand on your shoulder. *How about we catch up over some drinks? It's been ages since we hung out?"
You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I'd like that."
The bar was comfortably noisy, filled with the hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses. You and Sero found a booth in the corner, beers in hand, and settled in to catch up. It felt good to relax a bit, to be in the company of someone who wasn't pushing you for answers you didn't want to give.
"So." Sero began after a sip of his beer, "you gonna tell me why you've been MIA? Or do I have to guess?"
You sighed, knowing he wouldn't let it go. "It's complicated, Hanta."
"Complicated how?" he asked, leaning back in his seat. "Does it have anything to do with a certain explosive blonde and a red-haired tank?"
You winced, "What makes you say that?"
"Just a hunch." he replied with a shrug. "Plus, Kirishima's been worried sick about you, and Bakugo's been, well...Bakugo, but more pissed than usual."
You frowned, your gaze dropping to the table. "I didn't mean to worry them. I just...I didn't know how to handle it."
"Handle what?" Sero pressed gently.
You took a deep breath, the words catching in your throat before you finally let them out. "I...I kinda have feelings for both of them. And I thought...I thought it would be easier to just distance myself. To let them be together without me getting in the way." Sero's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't look surprised.
"So, you just decided to ghost them? Leave the country without talking to them first?"
"It was stupid, I know," you admitted, frustration with yourself seeping into your voice. "But I didn't think they'd understand…I just didn't want to mess up our friendship."
Sero was quiet for a moment, then he sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. "Y/N, you're way too hard on yourself, you know that? They care about you a lot. And I don't think you're giving them enough credit."
You glanced up at him, searching his face for any sign of judgment, but found none. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that maybe you should stop running and start talking to them." Sero said simply. "You never know what might happen if you're honest about how you feel. And sure, Kirishima and Bakugo have been pretty close, but lately, there's been talk... you know, around the agency."
"Talk?" you asked, curiosity piqued.
"Nothing bad, just...people have noticed that those two seem kinda distracted. And it's not just because of each other, if you catch my drift." Sero said with a knowing look.
You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. Could it be possible that...?
"No fucking way" you muttered, shaking your head. "They look so happy together. They don't need me complicating things."
"Y/N." Sero said, his voice firm, "You don't complicate anything. You're part of their lives—whether you like it or not. And maybe, you're part of something bigger than you realize."
You fell silent, Sero's words echoing in your mind as you silently sipped your beer. Could he be right? Was there more to their relationship than you'd assumed? And if so, where did that leave you?
The conversation drifted after that, Sero taking your mind off things by sharing stories about the others, filling you in on the latest gossip from your old circle of friends. By the time you parted ways, your heart felt a little lighter, the dread that had been hanging over you for weeks starting to lift.
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#mha x reader#bnha x reader#my hero academia x reader#bakugo katuski x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#kirishima eijiro x reader#eijiro kirishima x reader#kirishima x reader#bakugo x reader#kiribaku x reader#krbk x reader#bakugo x reader x kirishima#kiribaku x reader angst#krbk x reader angst#cyber.writes
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Surprise Marriage
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you and Logan receive some...surprising news, it leads to a lot of unanswered questions.
Disclaimer: One or two swear words here and there. Mostly fluff, chaos, little angst, yearning, kissing and a happy ending. Not Proof Read.
The morning, so far, had been slow for Logan.
Which, thankfully, due to the last couple of years, wasn’t out of the ordinary. Sure, a kid or two might forget to have done their homework or the coffee filter hadn’t been changed. But other than the small, common, everyday mishaps, everything had been pretty normal.
But somehow, when Logan woke up, something felt off.
Maybe it was the quiet hallways, maybe it was the fact he hadn’t seen any other professors in the break room or around the school, or maybe it was the fact that when he walked into the Professor's office, everyone looked at him with…worry.
“What is it? What’s going on?”
“Logan, I think it’s best if you sit down.”
Logan looked around everybody and they all looked worried, too. Not “someone’s dead” worried, but worried enough to make him feel uneasy.
“What’s going on?”
“Have you seen Y/n today?”
Logan shook his head. “She had a late night. She’s probably still sleeping.”
Professor X looked at Storm. “Go and get her for me, please.”
Storm nodded and made her way out of the door and towards your bedroom. Meanwhile, Logan was still confused.
“Charles, what’s going on?”
The man took a small sigh and looked at the papers on his desk before looking back up to Logan.
“Come on, clearly everyone else knows. What is it?”
The Professor went back and forth with himself for a minute before finally looking back up. “I suppose I should tell you. You’re married, Logan.”
Logan laughed. “Excuse me?”
“I received these papers this morning from a law firm in Oklahoma. It seems it took them a while to find an address for you both.”
“Both? What?”
“Here, take a look for yourself.” The Professor pushed the papers to the edge of his desk where Logan took them with caution and a lot of confusion.
“What the hell? When were these even..drawn up? Better yet, who’s my wife?”
“Well, that would be the other question except-”
Just as the Professor was about to finish his sentence, the door to his office opened and Storm walked in with you not far behind. Everyone looked at you…worriedly. Like they knew something you didn’t.
Logan looked annoyed as he flipped through a couple sheets of paper but when he saw you, he held the same expression but only for a minute then it turned into…into something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
Then you remembered.
It had been laundry day.
And you wore one of his shirts to bed.
Standing in his t-shirt and some plaid pyjama shorts that you found in the back of your wardrobe, your hair down and slightly messy from having only just woken up, you looked around everyone.
“What’s going on?”
“Well, Y/n-”
“Take a look at this.” Logan handed you the pile of paper he had been reading, and with a slightly tired and confused look, you read through it.
What was it meant to be? A news article? A government contract? A kid’s essay who’s handwriting they couldn’t read…again?
But no.
It was anything but.
Well, maybe a government contract…of sorts.
“This is a marriage licence.” You spoke aloud. “Logan, why am I looking at a marriage licence at eight in the morning? Oh my god, are Jean and Scott finally getting hitched. About time.”
“No,” Logan said. “It’s ours.”
“What?”
“It’s ours. We’re married.”
You stopped reading. Even if you had pretended to do so, all the words on the page suddenly became blocks of ink that you couldn’t make out.
“What?”
Then the Professor started to explain. “We were hoping one of you could explain this to us, though if neither of you wish to, that’s completely fine. What happens between a husband and wife is none of our-”
“When did this even happen?” You asked Logan.
“I don’t know.”
“A law firm in Oklahoma sent it over. Apparently it’s taken them a while to find your address.”
You thought for a moment. Yourself and Logan hadn’t been in Oklahoma for nearly ten months. And you certainly didn’t get married. At least, not from memory.
“I need to sit down.”
Logan pushed out the chair beside him with his foot and you fell into the softer leather. You had just woken up and all of a sudden you felt like you wanted to sleep for at least a month.
“We’re married? Are you sure it’s ours? Maybe they got the addresses mixed up and…I don’t know. Got it wrong?”
Logan leaned back and pressed his hand to the side of his face. “Flipped to the back page.”
And so you did.
There was your name. And Logan’s. Signed and dated.
You were married to Logan.
Logan had become your husband as of ten months ago.
You had become Logan’s wife.
“I think I’m gonna puke.”
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Scott said. Jean hit him on the arm. “What?”
“Hard to not be a little offended at that.” Logan said, half under his breath, half to you.
“Do either of you know when this happened?”
You shook your head, still trying to read the pieces of paper in front of you. When could this have-
“The library.”
“What?”
Logan sat up. “We signed for a package. What kind of delivery company has us sign a marriage contract instead?”
“I don’t know but it had to be there. That’s the only time we ever…wrote our names, signed a piece of paper. It could have been this.”
“We would have noticed if it said “MARRIAGE LICENCE” at the top of the page.”
Then the bell rang.
“We…should pick this up later. For now, let's just try and go about today as normal.”
You could only nod in agreement. And as everyone left, the Professor turned to both you and Logan who were sitting facing each other in your chairs.
“I’ll give you both some time.”
Logan nodded a small thank you and waited until the door closed behind Xavier before he spoke.
You were silent. Still processing. Your heart was like rapid fire against your chest and your vision was slowly losing focus on the paper in front of you.
Logan pulled the paper from your hands and placed it on the desk before shuffling closer and holding onto both of your hands.
“Hey, hey, look at me.” One of Logan’s hands came to rest by the side of your face. “Just breathe. I can hear your heartbeat from here. Just…take a deep breath.”
“We’re married, Logan.” Your voice was quieter than usual.
“I know.”
“We’re married.”
Logan nodded. “I know.”
“What are we going to do?”
“That one I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
You shrugged. “What are we meant to do? By all technicality…we’re married. Husband and Wife. According to this piece of paper, I’ve been a fraud to the government by not going by Howlett.”
“So we…we get a divorce?”
“How? Don’t there have to be…grounds for getting divorced?”
“So, we tell them it was a mistake.” Logan offered. “I’m sure we’ll be divorced as quick as we found out we were- are married.”
You could only nod.
Logan rubbed a thumb over each of your knuckles. “Hey, we’ll be okay. It’ll all be fine. Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”
“I woke up and found out I’m a wife with a husband. That’s what’s going on. Jesus, are the lights always this bright in here?”
You covered your closed eyes with one hand, trying your best to stop the pounding in your head.
“How can you be so calm about this?”
Logan shrugged. “Figure you’re freaking out enough for the both of us.”
That made you laugh a little.
“Come on, we need to get to class. And you need to get dressed. Unless you want to teach in your pyjamas.”
You looked down at yourself. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about using your t-shirt. Laundry day.”
Logan smiled. “It’s okay. Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.”
Hours later, you found yourself in a pair of jeans you fished from the bottom of your semi-fresh clothes pile and decided to keep Logan’s t-shirt on. A, because it’s one of the most comfortable things you’ve worn, and B, it was the only clean top you had.
And after spending all day teaching classes, you found yourself going through each of your dirty items and throwing them into the washing machine, being careful to make sure there were no sneaky bright or dark colours that made their way into a wash they shouldn’t have been in.
“Hey.”
You turned to find Storm waiting by the door before walking inside.
“Hey.”
“How are you feeling?”
“After teaching a bunch of teenagers all day? Exhausted.” You said with a small laugh. And Storm chuckled for a moment before walking around you and leaning on the wall so she was facing you as you unloaded your dirty laundry into the machine.
“I know that feeling but that wasn’t why I was asking.”
You nodded. You knew that. “I don’t know. It’s just…new information.”
“Have you seen Logan today?”
You shook your head. “Not since this morning. Though he did leave a coffee on my desk when I got back to my classroom after lunch.”
Storm smiled. Between herself and the others (including the kids - though they were yet to find out) Storm thought the best thing to happen was for yourself and Logan to get married. Okay, maybe not in the way it happened. But it was a positive thing.
They had been watching you and Logan for years, becoming friends, becoming teammates, trusting each other, finding your own…ways together. Like with the coffee. Logan only did that with you. Or how, despite only knowing him a week, seemed to know more about him than anyone else did.
You were both so close with each other than some of the kids in the school had questioned your relationship status with each other.
“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”
“What can we do? The most reasonable, and sensible, thing to do is get a divorce.”
Storm crossed her arms. “Have you talked about maybe…staying together?”
“What?”
Storm shrugged. “It’s an idea. Maybe this is a sign telling you both that there’s something more than just friendship. I mean, going off what you’re currently wearing…that is his, isn’t it?”
You looked down.
“It’s laundry day. He let me wear it.”
“And are you going to give it back, or did he tell you to keep it?”
You were silent and Storm watched as small patches of blush warmed your cheeks. She had her answer.
“Look, all I’m saying is, maybe this is a sign. Maybe this is your chance to see if there is something more between you and Logan.”
“If there was, something would have happened by now.”
Oh, how Storm wished that was true.
But sometimes it was agony watching you both together. Like how at Christmas, you fell asleep against him by the fire and Logan smiled. It wasn’t a big grin, but he smiled. Or how you were the only one Logan would let near him when he had been impaled in his shoulder by a six foot rod. Or how you looked at him. And how he looked at you right back.
There was more than just friendship. A lot more.
“Just think about it.”
And with that she left. And you were left wondering.
What the hell was there to think about? You and Logan were friends, sure, but…more? Sure, when you first met him, it felt instant. Instant likeness, instant trust. And that never came easy for you. Or Logan for that matter. And, yeah, maybe once or twice you had thought something could have happened.
Like the night in the motel room, funnily enough, in Oklahoma.
It had been one bed and you had both woken up and turned to face each other. You had both been talking for a good twenty minutes when the conversation lulled and you were both there. You felt something. You couldn’t put your finger on it but you felt something. But everything was cut short when the owner of the Motel came to knock on the door so he could fix the leaky tap in the bathroom.
Or like the night when you all went camping with the kids.
Somehow, you had found yourself sharing a tent with Logan even though it had been planned for you and Storm to bunk.
You teased Logan on how happy he was to be bunked with you and not Scott. And for a split second, you could have sworn you saw him blush. Though it was probably out of embarrassment of your teasing.
But that couldn’t have been something. It couldn’t have meant anything, could it?
“Couldn’t sleep?”
Logan turned and found the last person he expected to be standing by the door.
“Scott?”
“Figured you’d still be awake and lo and behold, I was right.”
Logan watched as he walked inside and sat across from him. “Have you come to say something, or just be a dick the whole time?”
Scott chuckled, “Maybe a bit of both.”
Logan raised his eyebrows and took another drink.
“Have you talked to her?” Logan knew exactly who he was talking about. But he shook his head.
“Not since this morning.”
“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”
“What do you want, pal?”
Well, he wasn’t being Logan if he didn’t want to skip the pleasantries.
“I think you and Y/n should give this thing a chance.”
“Excuse me?”
Scott smirked a little. “Come on, you can’t tell me you’ve not thought about it with her. How close you two are, how you both seem to know what the other does before they even do it. And call it what you want, I think this is the perfect excuse.”
“Perfect excuse?”
“To see if something can actually happen between you two.”
“And why should it?”
“Because you’re in love with her.”
For some reason, that felt like a punch to the gut to Logan.
“Look, bub, I know-”
“Logan, the way you look at her isn’t the way a friend looks at another friend. I’ve seen the way you look at her. We all have. From day one, that girl has been something else for you, and even if you don’t know it, the rest of us do. You’re in love with her. You always have been.”
“No, I’m-”
“You can’t deny it, Logan.” Scott told him. “Eventually something is going to snap and it might be too late. So, you’ve done the whole relationship a little backwards. So what? You’d only get divorced anyway if it doesn’t work out. But you need to do something about your feelings, Logan.”
Logan had to laugh. “I think I’d know if I was in love with someone.”
Scott sighed. Did he seriously have to paint Logan a fucking picture.
“You make her coffee every day. You bring her lunch and sit with her every day. She is the first person you go to when you finally want to ask someone for help. And I know for a fact she is the first person you tell anything to. She knows more about you than anyone else in this building does, and that is down to you and everything you have shared with her. Anytime anyone looks in her direction, you aren’t too far behind her.”
“I saw you, that day, when the Mayor and his brother turned up at the school.” Scott continued. “The way his brother was looking her up and down…Logan you were by her side in less than ten seconds and we all saw the look you gave him. That man left the Professor’s office trembling. He also never looked in y/n’s direction again.”
“What’s your point?”
“That you were jealous, Logan. And that, for as much as you can and probably will try and deny it. You love her.”
The conversation lulled for a moment.
“All I’m saying is at least think about it. We’ve all seen you together. Maybe it’s time you finally noticed yourself.”
Logan didn’t see you until the next day when he caught you folding laundry in your room.
“Want some help?”
You turned around and saw him. “Sure. You can start with that pile.”
Logan entered your room, a little more awkward than usual, and started folding clothes.
“How are you…how are you feeling?”
You shrugged. “Like normal, I guess. What about you?”
“Yeah, fine.”
IT was a slight struggle after that but conversation flowed a little easier eventually.
That was something Logan always loved when it came to being around you. He wasn’t the biggest one for talking to people but with you, it was easy. Probably helped by the fact you could somehow change topics at lightning speed.
Conversations with you were never, ever boring.
Even when they were probably meant to be.
And it wasn’t long before your fear surrounding being married…faded.
Around a week later, a leak had sprung on one side of the school which meant having to bunk rooms for a while. Of course, all the kids went with their friends.
But it also meant you had to bunk with someone too.
“You can bunk with me.” Logan told you.
You nodded. “Finally sharing a room. Wow, we’re really moving generations in this relationship.”
“After you, wife.”
This became a common theme, until the weight of the words settled down on both of you once more.
A divorce lawyer had picked up your case.
It would take a couple of weeks to get all the papers sorted, but yourself and Logan would be divorced by the middle of the following month.
Like nothing had ever happened.
Except, it just so happened, that was when something did happen.
Scott and Storms’s words had been playing on Logan’s mind and yours. Not helped by the fact it wasn’t the last time someone held that kind of conversation with either of you.
You found yourself in a similar conversation with Scott, whilst Logan had a similar conversation with Jean.
And then the Professor approached you both, without the other one knowing.
Except he hadn’t been to sit down and talk to you about it. He just made small comments in passing that left you both questioning more and more about your true feelings.
And then Logan found you in the library one night.
“Here you are. You didn’t come to bed so…what are you doing?”
Standing close to the top of the book ladder, you were scanning through different books with a flashlight.
“The main light is too big and the fire’s light doesn’t reach this far back.”
Logan blinked. “That…still didn’t answer my question.”
“I’ve got a new semester of lessons set out. I wanted to get a head start on finding the books needed.”
Logan looked around. “You got a list?”
You looked at him. “Logan, it’s past midnight. Go to bed.”
“That’s not what I asked. Where’s your list? I know you’ve got one.”
Sighing, you reached into your back pocket and held it out. He walked over and plucked it from your fingers.
“There’s twenty six books on this list.”
“And I currently have three. If you still want to help, any that you find, just place them on the table behind the sofa.”
And so he did.
By two in the morning, you’d both found twenty three books in total. Just three more left.
“Is this the right edition?”
“Let me see.”
Logan walked over to where you were still standing on the ladder and handed it up to you. You flipped through a couple of the first pages as you slowly climbed backwards down the stairs.
“Yeah, this is the right one. The last two should be on a lower shelf.”
As you finally reached the last few steps, you felt your foot slip and your knees crashed against the bars. Except, instead of falling backwards, or rolling with the ladder itself, Logan’s hands steadied you.
“You alright?”
You took a second to breathe. Having your life flash before your eyes for a couple of seconds really knocks the wind out of you.
“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed a little. “I’m fine.”
You turned in Logan’s arms and was met with his broad and solid chest as his hands held you at your waist.
“Good,” Logan laughed a little, too.
The sound of your life had always been like music to his ears.
A comfort, even when the moment hadn’t been all that comfortable beforehand.
And for that moment, time seemed to still. Any silence that had been in the room was slowly becoming defending, until your hearing focused on his breathing. The steady rise and fall of his chest and the quickening of your own heartbeat.
The flashlight that you had held in your hands had rolled somewhere onto the floor when you slipped on the ladder.
But you had never seen Logan so…clearly.
You had known him for so long and had even spent nights and mornings in the same bed together. But for the first time, you were committing him to memory. Part of you felt like these moments would go, once the papers came through. That even if neither of you wanted it, something would inherently change between you both once the papers were signed and delivered.
But something in that moment was changing too.
Like how you were realising you never wanted to be away from him. That the best place on this earth was right where you were. In his arms, his eyes on you, and yours on him.
You found yourself leaning in forward, almost as if, if you didn’t get closer to him, he might disappear.
And he was doing the same.
One of his hands came up to your face as he rubbed a couple of strands of your hair between his fingers before he slowly pushed it back and let his gaze wash over you.
He was committing you to memory, too.
His eyes locked on yours once more, just as his other hand trailed down your waist and to your hip.
You fell closer to him.
Or maybe he pulled you closer.
Either way, you never wanted to be without his touch.
What felt like an eternity later, you finally felt his lips against yours and yours against his.
It started off slow. This was new territory for you both when it came to the other. It was slow, full of mixed feelings and…something else.
Then it snapped.
Logan pushed a little harder and you felt your legs hit the back of the book ladder just as his hand and arm snaked around and up your back, holding you flush against him as your own arms pulled him closer to you.
Logan braced the hand that had been by your face, by the side of your head, holding onto the book ladder, keeping you both steady.
And he felt your breath hitch as he stepped into you.
Before you knew it, you were braced against one of the bars on the ladder as Logan’s lips went from yours, across your jaw and down the column of your neck. A small grunt escaped him as your own fingers scratched through the back of his hair and down the back of his neck.
However, just as his lips returned to yours and his hands slipped under the hem of your t-shirt– his t-shirt, as your own started reaching for the hem of his…a clock went off.
“W-w-w-w-w-wait. Wait. Stop.”
“Is everything okay?”
You swallowed. “Yes…no. I don’t know. We shouldn’t be doing this.”
Logan wanted to ask “Why? Why shouldn't we?”. But instead, lowered his head. He knew why.
“You’re right…you’re right.”
Your own temple came to rest against his for a few moments, neither of you wishing to leave the moment just yet.
“We should go…before someone comes in.”
“It’s two in the morning, who is going to come in?”
“I don’t want to leave.”
“Then don’t.”
You stayed quiet for a long time, feeling Logan’s fingers draw circles over your skin. Eventually, the only sound you heard was his heartbeat and his breath, slowly matching your own.
But no matter how much of you told you to stay, you tried your best to fight it.
You and Logan were friends. Friends who were about to get a divorce from a marriage neither of you could remember fully consenting to.
“Goodnight, Logan.”
Reluctantly, you stepped out of his arms, his light grip on your hand not letting go until you were both too far apart to hold on any longer, and made your way through the school until you came across an empty room.
It was the smaller quiet space that overlooked the back of the school. Perfect for the nights when too much noise was keeping you up at night.
Except, it wasn’t noise keeping you awake.
It was your own mind, relieving the one thing you thought you would never do with Logan. The one thing you wanted most to keep going. The one thing you would never forget.
When Logan woke the next day, part of him thought it was all a dream. But even he couldn’t have dreamed up anything from the night before and have it still feel so real in the morning.
Then he didn’t see you for three days.
Save for one moment when he brought a box of your things from his room, to yours. You opened the door, wearing another one of his t-shirts. One that went missing months ago. One that he had seen on your at least a dozen times since. One that he felt he was truly seeing for the first time, on you.
The exchange, coming from the both of you together, couldn’t have felt anything more than awkward.
And then another moment hit.
You didn’t close the door.
He didn’t know what to say.
All he knew was that he wished he was back with you, in the library.
And you were wishing the same thing right back.
“I should-”
“You should-”
A small, awkward laugh came from both of you before eventually you shut the door, wishing you had enough confidence to open it back up and call after him.
Two days later, Logan hadn’t seen you at all.
And a morning meeting, with Storm going to get you from your bed, led to Logan realising why he hadn’t seen you.
“She’s not there?”
Logan turned immediately. “What?”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know. She’s not in her room or any other place she usually is this early in the morning.”
“Doesn’t she have classes to teach?” Scott asked.
“She doesn’t teach Wednesday and Thursday.” Logan told him.
And it wasn’t long before Logan heard his name being called behind him by Xavier as he marched his way out of the office and to every room he could think you would be.
You were nowhere to be found. It was almost like you hadn’t been there for weeks. The books you had taken out – the ones Logan had helped you find – were piled neatly in your bedroom. On your desk, you had a small wicker basket filled with letters and postcards, all arranged in date order, the newest ones being at the front.
The pictures you had on your windowsill displayed all the people you loved the most. And included a picture from when you had ambushed him on his birthday. He rarely, if ever, took a photo.
But he smiled, albeit a little awkwardly, with you.
“Where could she have gone?”
Logan looked around your room. You wouldn’t have just gotten up and left for good. You loved teaching your kids too much, despite whatever else had happened.
Then Logan saw the framed pictures on the wall, just across from your bed.
“I’ll check with Cyerbro. She couldn’t have gone far.”
“She could be half way across the world by now!”
Logan shook his head. “But she’s not.”
A lot of them were confused, but Xavier watched Logan for a moment.
“Do you know where she is?”
“I have an idea.”
With that, Logan reached for the wall and pulled down one of the smaller frames and carried it out with him.
“Hold on, I’m coming with you.” Storm called out to him.
“You don’t even know where I’m going.”
“Logan, you look like you’re just about ready to punch a bull. I know, right now, even if you are the last person she wants to see, you are the first person she needs. But that also means I know what you’re going to do and, love you or not, Y/n wouldn’t want you to hurt someone or even yourself to find her.”
And Storm was right.
And she was right to tag along.
Because just five hours later, Logan had pulled up outside a local pharmacy. They had received a call on the way; they were heading in the right direction, but they needed to go into the town first. Any chance of finding where she was in the mountains lay where she had been all day.
And it wasn’t long before Storm had to step in to stop Logan from almost killing the cashier.
He had been dancing around the question, leading them all on different tangents of conversation about the town and the people in it before finally he got to his answer.
The cashier nodded. “I don’t know where she lives, but Connie might. She knows everything in the town.”
“Where is Connie?”
The cashier pointed out of the door. “In the bakery, across the street.”
“Thank you,” Logan told him, swiping the picture back up from the counter and walking outside. Storm stopped short behind Logan when she saw he wasn’t moving off the sidewalk.
Then she saw.
You had just left the building and climbed inside your beaten up, old Jeep Wrangler. You pulled out of your parking spot and drove off down the street.
And Logan followed.
However, halfway up the road, he started to recognise the place. He’d been here before, except he was going up the way he would come down and out of the cabin.
So, he took a turn.
He was at your cabin ten minutes before you were. Storm had stayed behind in the town to call the others and let them know what was going on.
“You fixed her up well.”
You jumped at his voice and threw a can of pumpkin puree at his head. Though he managed to catch it before his head made a dent in the can.
“Jesus, Logan.” Then you realised. “How did you find me?”
“You forget that I know you. The pictures on your wall. They’re a lot more recent.”
You didn’t know what else to say so you turned back to your front door and pushed it open, Logan hurrying after you.
“Why did you leave?” He called out, placing the can on the side.
“I didn’t leave.” You called back as you unpacked some of your groceries.
“You disappeared into thin air but you weren’t abducted. I’d call that leaving.”
“I needed a break, Logan. I needed…time.”
“Time from what?”
“From everything. From you, from marriage, from the school, from the library. It’s like I woke up one morning and, quite literally, everything had changed. One day we were- we were teachers and friends…we were us, Logan. And then…we kissed and…I don’t know what we’re meant to do, Logan.” You dropped your head as you pressed your palms onto the kitchen counter.
“Maybe we’re meant to do nothing.” Logan walked towards you. “Maybe we keep things as they are.”
“What? Single and married?”
Logan shook his head, bringing his hand to pull yours to look at him.
“Married and together.”
Your lips parted for a moment, your eyes scanning his face, waiting for the joke to have its punchline.
“So, we did everything a little backwards?” Logan shrugged. “So what.”
“Logan…”
“I love you, y/n.” Logan told you, nothing but seriousness and truth in his eyes. “And I think you love me, too. But you’re scared. And so am I. Do you love me, y/n?”
You were trying your hardest to keep your emotions inside you, but something was failing. “Of course I do.”
“Then we start here, just you and me.”
“If something goes wrong, I can’t lose you. You mean too much to me, Logan.”
Logan smirked. “Good job I can regenerate.”
You scoffed and hit him in the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
Logan nodded, a faint smile on his face. “I know. You’re not going to lose me, Y/n. You couldn’t ever.”
“Promise me.”
Logan nodded. “I promise. Can I kiss you now?”
Logan didn’t have time to finish his question before your lips met his in a searing kiss, your hands pulling him closer to you whilst his own arms wrapped around you.
Maybe you had done the whole relationship thing backwards, but that didn’t matter. Not anymore.
Not when you finally had each other for life.
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