#and you feel guilty for not being appropriately happy for it

[miabrown007]

receiving gifts is evil, can we please stop

[steampoweredskeleton]

Ignore

[alisonwritesimagines]

First Date ~Logan Howlett Imagine~

Summary: You go on a date with Logan.

Part One

Author’s Note: I wish I was a woman in the early 2000s and be able to marry Hugh Jackman

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: none, fluff

Do not repost this anywhere!

You took Laura shopping with you so you could: one, help her get some new clothes and necessities, and two, get yourself a new dress for your date with Logan.

“He may seem rough around the edges but he’s a good guy under all that,” Laura tells you as you two walked around a clothing store.

“I’ll take your word on that. How are you liking school? Made any friends yet?” You asked her.

“Just a couple. But school is nice. I’m learning a lot from the other teachers as well,” she tells you.

“That’s great! I’m so happy you’re adjusting well in this universe.”

"It's not too bad here," she says.

"That's good to hear."

"What time is Logan picking you up?" She asked.

"At five. So we should head back huh?" You asked.

"Yeah."

Logan remembered the first time he went on a date with his universe's you. He remembered the nervous feeling he got when picking you up and there was no difference in this time. He watched you walk out of the mansion wearing a black dress that made him take his breath away.

"Hey. Ready?" You asked.

"Yeah. You look great," Logan tells you.

"Thank you. I didn't know what we were doing so I figured this would be appropriate enough," you tell him.

"Vanessa recommended a couple places. Wade didn't help," Logan tells you.

"Of course he didn't," you giggled.

"Shall we?" Logan asked.

"We shall," you nodded.

Logan took you to a nice bar and grille that Vanessa recommended. You two sat outside at the end where you two could have some privacy.

“So what do you do at the school?” Logan asked you.

“I am an English teacher. I also help kids with their abilities if they’re having some issues with it. It helps since I’m able to cancel their power by looking at them. But it hurts my eyes sometimes,” you tell him. Your powers were the same as well as your job at least.

“Bet that sword training came in handy then?” Logan asked.

“Yeah. How did you know I did sword training though?” You asked. Logan froze for a moment.

“I just assumed. With a power like that, you must’ve gotten some training in closeup combat,” Logan tells you.

“That’s true. That’s kinda how I met Wade. We bonded over our swords.”

Throughout the night, Logan began to fall for you. Though you were a reminder of his old universe, you were a little different. And he didn't mind. But it felt guilty to him to be with you in an untruthful matter.

“I can’t do this,” Logan told you.

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked with a frown.

“No. You have been great. Too great. I think I need to be honest with you about something,” Logan told me.

“If it’s about you being from another universe, Wade already explained that to me.”

“It’s not just that.”

You stared at him, letting him continue.

“I was married to you in my universe. But I let her down and got her killed.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. And being with you, it’s making me feel guilty that I let you die when I could’ve been there to help you. And I don’t want you to get hurt here.”

You put your hand on Logan’s before looking at him.

“I’m so sorry about that. I know I’m not exactly her. But I hope that I can help you move on. I don’t think I’m that same girl you lost. I am someone different and someone you can have a second chance with,” you tell him.

“I know you can,” Logan smiled softly at you.

“I am curious, is there a big difference between me and other me?” You asked him.

“She did not make really good brownies like you. She did make cookies,” Logan tells you.

“Brownies are more superior,” you tell him with a straight face. Logan let out a small laugh before nodding.

“Yes they are.”

“Do you want to get dessert after this?” You asked him.

“I’d like that.”

"Then come on," you say as you held his hand before dragging him out.

---

Wade looked up as he watched Logan walk inside the apartment. It was three in the morning and Logan had a smile on his face.

"Hey you," Wade greeted.

"Hey," Logan greeted back. Logan's smile fell from the reminder that his night with you had ended and he was back with Wade's annoying presence.

"You know, your curfew was midnight," Wade teased. "I told you that you would have a fun time with Y/n."

"Fuck off."

"I take the date went well?" Wade asked him.

"Yeah. It went well," Logan said.

"It went really well," Wade tells Marry Puppins. The dog licked Wade's face before he pulled her away from him for a moment.

"I know this goes on without saying, but if you hurt her, I will fight you again," Wade tells him.

"I'm not going to hurt her. I won't let anything happen to her," Logan tells him.

"That's the spirit! Now, when's the next date?" Wade asked.

"I'm going to bed."

"Aw come on. I want us to braid each other's hair and you tell me everything," Wade tells him.

"Night," Logan said as he left the room.

[yuri-is-online]

And in With the New (Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasomnia x Yuu)

"Look I would get rid of this thing if I could afford a new sweatshirt." You drag the offensive article of clothing over your head completely missing the spark of curiosity and mischief in your companion's eye. "I've got a lot of bad memories associated with this."

"If it's that uncomfortable we can go look for a replacement instead of-"

"Oh no not like that, it's super comfy. I just don't like it because it technically belongs to my ex."

notes: they/them used for Yuu, their ex is implied to be kind of a shit person, other dorms can be found here (x) Ortho is somewhat included in Idia's part but does not have one of his own.

Kalim- "Do you have any other things from your world?"

Kalim has expressed a desire for you to see as much of Twisted Wonderland as possible, and he stands by that, but it would really suck if the only physical connection you had to your home was something that brought up painful memories. Your past relationship isn't something that makes him jealous, just concerned since it clearly causes you distress. He can wait to get you more appropriate clothing until after he makes sure you're ok. If the sweatshirt really is the only thing you have from home, he'll be asking if there are any foods you remember or activities you liked to do with the people you actually cared about that the two of you can recreate in Twisted Wonderland. That way you won't have to feel the need to hold onto something painful and he gets to make you happy.

Jamil- "Then why didn't you get rid of it before you came here?"

On the one hand he does feel a bit second rate at the thought of you holding onto something form an ex, but his primary concern is the implication that your financial straights have always been this... dire. He definitely wants to know about your previous relationship so he can judge them for how much better he is, but once he notices that the memories are a bit on the traumatic side he stops pushing and feels just the slightest bit guilty. But really, if it's something that hurts you to hold onto then why do it? You aren't him, you don't need to do that, people love you and want to take care of you, him included. He's not going to just give you his hoodie, he would literally die of embarrassment, but he does get you a sweatshirt. If for no other reason than to keep him from staring holes into your back now that he knows where the other one came from.

Vil- "It doesn't suit you at all."

If his treatment of Epel is anything to go by, Vil is not above spending money on something he considers to be a pet project. Not that this... friendship is one of those, nor is he particularly jealous of some no name extra who was too blind to beg on their hands and knees to get back in your good graces. Not that he needs to do that you understand; as arrogant as Vil has a reputation for being, he is one of the people who has been more genuine when expressing concern and gratitude for you. His comment isn't meant to be a slight, clothing that makes you feel bad about yourself is failing to do its job as fashion, and as a world class super model that is unacceptable. In other words get in the car looser we're going shopping.

Rook- "Ah, I thought it was something like that."

Is it bad if he says he meant he hoped it was something like that? Not that he was rooting for your ex to be a bad person, he would never wish a subpar lover on you. But when he saw the tattered edges of your sweatshirt and how it clashed with the things you bought for yourself, he hoped that maybe someone in your world hadn't wanted your hands to be cold. If that's not the case, then if you are ok with letting it go as a lover of romance who is he to deny you your freedom? Granted tossing roses onto a fire while you burn an ugly sweatshirt is both very extra and very Rook but hey. He's having fun and you've got a new jacket.

Epel- "Afford shamford I could'a just made ya one!"

Offering their sweetheart their hoodie is something manly tall guys get to do and Epel has really really REALLY. Been looking forward to getting to that point in his relationship with you. He wants to feel like a real man, like your real man to be specific. The thought of some other piece of shit getting to do that first and treating you like a used dish rag pisses him off. Best believe he is huffing and puffing his way back to Grandma Felmier's boot camp with a mission to do you one and your ex two better by knitting you a pullover to go with your uniform. Everything that comes from Harveston is a top quality product prefect, better than whatever you left behind he guarantees it.

Idia- "So this is that kind of route huh..."

Of course you had a partner back in your world, if he can see your good points then a normie absolutely could. That doesn't make you less appealing, it just makes him feel all that more convinced he doesn't have a chance. He's halfway through whipping out his tablet to excuse himself when Ortho asks what you meant by "shitty memories" and they both get blindsided by just how much vitriol you have for a person whose clothing you technically kept on you. And suddenly he's back in business because there are few things that unite Idia with someone faster than a good old fashion bitch fest. Sure, his insults are weirdly possessive of you, but if he had any doubts about your feelings for this person he doesn't now! He's never heard you talk about anyone like this before and he finds it so attractive he almost forgets to short circuit when Ortho convinces you to try on his hoodie. Almost.

Malleus- "..."

Sometimes he feels like a broken record, constantly marveling at how little fear you have of him, but really child of man, you have no fear. Malleus has very little in the way of emotional intelligence, so he doesn't fully understand that what he is feeling is jealousy he just knows the thought of you with someone else's clothes hurts. Unfortunately for you both, in addition to not being emotionally intelligent he also isn't with the times and there is a non zero percent chance he will be bringing you a cloak and be genuinely confused when you don't immediately replace your old hide for his. (Lilia takes responsibility for that, he was making a joke honest.) Oh? The point was it's supposed to be something he wore so you can feel closer to him when he's gone? Well why didn't you say so child of man, he is more than willing to offer you a scale- what do you mean you can't wear that either?

Lilia- "Oh? Are you asking for one of mine?"

Shame has not been a word in Lilia's vocabulary since long before you showed up prefect. He always buys oversized clothing because of how cute the long sleeves look on him, but oh they would be so much cuter on you prefect, don't you want to see? Oh and while the two of you are at it, why don't you let him paint your nails and do your eye shadow. He's never had one of those slumber party things you humans do, you should make a night of this so you can both get a new experience out of this. He can have a slumber party and you can be the center of someone's world. Also what do you mean you're supposed to summon the devil at these things, he's already here.

Silver- "Would you like one of mine?"

Lilia raised a very good boy who thinks nothing of offering the shirt off his back to save someone in distress. Silver isn't a jealous person by nature, he's more concerned with making sure you are safe and taken care of than he is making sure you don't still have feelings for your ex. Above all else, Silver wants to be a safe space for you to come home to at the end of the day, like a proper knight in shining armor. Though he does have to admit, you look really nice in Diasomnia colors, they're really close to Briar Valley's so if you decide to come and visit he's assures you that you will fit right in. He's sure his father would be very happy to play host. Maybe too happy.

Sebek- "HOW UTTERLY DISGRACEFUL."

You think he's upset at you but he's not, that's made painfully clear with the rant he starts to go on about proper courtship procedure. Offering clothing to someone is supposed to be a sign of high affection, nay eternal devotion! And it suddenly becomes clear to you that Sebek has somehow managed to confuse the concept of a stolen hoodie and a knight's favor. He seems to have managed to convince himself, in the span of two seconds, that you are wearing this not because it is one of your only pieces of clothing, but because your ex convinced you that they're the only one who could love you which IS NOT TRUE. YOU UNDERSTAND HUMAN? DO YOU UNDERSTAAAAAAAAND?

[unclewaynemunson]

Something nameless is growing between Steve and Eddie. Steve wonders how long it'll take until this thing has a name, but for now, it's enough that it's just something. Something good. Something just for them. A secret of the most delicious kind.

He doesn't necessarily want to lie to Dustin, of course, but he doesn't really know what else to do. Not as long as this thing between him and Eddie is still nameless and Dustin is basically cornering him in the Hawkins High parking lot, way too enthusiastic about the fact that he's there to pick up Nancy.

'No, it's not a date, you little shrimp,' he repeats for what feels like the millionth time. And that statement couldn't be more true: he and Nancy are long past their weird post-breakup-end-of-the-world confusion. It's been good to reconnect with her and he's glad that they can truly be good friends, now.

Dustin shoots him an unimpressed glare and Steve groans in frustration when the boy opens his mouth to retort.

'I'm actually seeing someone else,' he says before Dustin can speak again. If he has to hear him say one more time that he should date either Nancy or Robin, he might actually punch him in the face. And he doesn't want to do that. Not really.

Dustin gasps.

'Why didn't you tell me?!'

'Because you're being annoying as shit about my love life,' Steve shoots back.

Dustin already opens his mouth for some smartass reply, but they get interrupted by a high-pitched scream. Steve whips his head only to find Eddie dramatically running towards them, limbs flailing and a huge grin on his face.

'Stevie!' he shouts out while crashing into Steve like a cannonball. Steve huffs, but is all too happy to catch him in his arms. He knows he shouldn't let his touch linger too long, not with Dustin right there, but it's really fucking difficult to pull back within an appropriate timeframe.

'What are you doing here?' Eddie looks hopeful, like he's suspecting that Steve came to the school for him.

'I'm meeting Nancy,' he admits, feeling almost guilty about it.

'He was just telling me about this girl he's seeing!' Dustin exclaims. 'Can you believe he didn't tell me? Did you know about this, Eddie?'

Eddie's smile falls off his face within a split second, and he takes a stumbling step backwards.

'You're seeing a girl?' His voice has gone cold. Betrayal shines from his big brown eyes.

'Eddie,' Steve starts, but he doesn't know what else to say – not with Dustin standing right there and hearing every word of their conversation.

'Go fuck yourself, Harrington.' He spits the words out and turns around, leaving Steve frozen and Dustin open-mouthed.

'Eddie, wait!' Steve calls out behind him, but Eddie only throws his arm up to flip him off, without looking back.

'Shit, fuck, damnit,' Steve mumbles under his breath as he runs after Eddie.

'Eddie, listen.' He grabs his leather-clad arm, but Eddie breaks himself free from Steve's grip with force. He finally looks at Steve again, tears in his eyes.

'I don't wanna hear it,' he says with a trembling voice as he reaches his van and climbs inside.

'But Dustin was–'

'Dustin was pretty damn clear.'

'No, it's all a –'

But Eddie slams the door shut while the word misunderstanding dies on Steve's tongue unheard. Steve watches helplessly how Eddie roughly wipes a hand over his face, puts his keys in the ignition as if he's stabbing someone, and drives off.

'Steve, what the fuck,' Dustin's voice says; when Steve looks to his right, he sees that Dustin has appeared next to him. 'He thought you were his friend! Why didn't you tell him about your girl?' It sounds accusatory, and Steve can't fucking deal with this right now.

'Why didn't you shut your goddamned big mouth for once in your life?' he snaps at him.

Dustin's eyes go wide with the surprise of Steve talking to him with that much venom in his voice; it's clear that he finally realizes he did something wrong.

'Steve, I – I didn't mean to – I didn't know he'd get mad!'

Steve sighs, long and heavy.

'Go home, Henderson,' he says stiffly.

He wishes that the genuinely apologetic look on Dustin's face would be enough to make it all good, but it isn't. Not as long as he still has the look in Eddie's eyes when he drove away burnt on his retina.

'I'm sorry, Steve.' And with slumped shoulders, Dustin turns around and trudges towards the bike racks.

Update: you can read pt2 here

[mionemymind]

Don't Say Something Stupid

Summary: Wanda is unable to commit yet unable to admit she's wrong. (Part Two of Don't Ask Stupid Questions)

Warnings: Pure Angst, No Happy Ending, Maybe Part Three?

A/n: Wanted to hurt y'all more, so here y'all go :) Gif credits go to @thedorkphoenix

Word Count: 662

Masterlist

Part One | Part Two

“Y/n, your new partner is Emma.” Wanda turned her attention from Vision to Steve at the mention of Emma. Trying to hold back her offense, Wanda commented, “Y/n is my partner.”

Wanda looked back at Y/n, but their eyes hadn’t met as Y/n continued to stare at Emma’s file. “We believe their powers work better together, Wanda. Plus, your new assigned partner is Vision as your mind stones should help with increased efficiency and communication.”

Wanda held back the comment on the tip of her tongue. It wasn’t appropriate to say stupid things like, “But she’s always been my partner.”

“You dumped Vision?” Natasha asked surprisingly. Wanda looked away as she could tell Y/n had heard the comment with the way her shoulders tensed. 

“He kept wanting more and honeslty…” Wanda sighed, feeling more guilty of the additional person she led on, “…and I couldn’t give him that.”

Natasha nodded in understatement as she squeezed Wanda’s shoulder. “Was it because y’all didn’t have the connection?” Wanda shook her head, feeling lost as to why she even did it in the first place. 

“Honestly, I’m not too sure…I rather admit that before saying something stupid.” Wanda tried her best not to look at Y/n’s slumped shoulders as she proceeded to get up from the coach and walk to her room. 

And as Natasha continued to talk, Wanda didn’t dare to remember how much Y/n hated feeling stupid. 

“Why did you get in my way?” Emma was held back by Y/n as she aggressively questioned Wanda. “You almost got Y/n and I hurt with that stunt you pulled.”

Wanda rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Had it not been for my quick thinking, Y/n would’ve got hurt and you would’ve been swarmed.” 

“We had it handled,” Emma bit back. And before Wanda could get another word, Y/n locked eyes with her, and silently pleaded to stop. Seeing Wanda’s stance falter, Y/n pulled Emma back and mumbled, “Let’s not fight anymore. We’ll figure it out a different day so come on.”

While Y/n tugged on Emma’s hand, Wanda mind couldn’t stop thinking of stupid things. The main one being, “Were you even on my side?” 

“Are you ignoring me?” Wanda caught Y/n in the hallway, almost close to the spot where they used to secretly make out. The red head could tell that Y/n had wanted to be anywhere else but there with her. Although it stung, Wanda wanted answers.

“Wanda - I - let’s just be cordial.” Feeling even more confused, Wanda backed Y/n into the wall with her arms crossed. 

“Cordial? You don’t even speak to me anymore.” Y/n still didn’t look at Wanda’s eyes. The girl was absolutely frustrated at how dense Wanda could be as if she couldn’t read the room.

“Well…” Y/n swallowed her anxiety and pain and finally looked into Wanda’s eyes, “…rules are rules. I broke them so this is me moving on from it.”

Wanda stepped back, feeling slapped and shocked at the confession. “Moving on? Are you seriously unable to continue without having feelings involved?” The red head didn’t know where this fierceness came from. It certainly didn’t explain what she truly meant. But she was always too stubborn to think it through. 

Y/n scoffed, not surprised that Wanda could barely understand her place. “You ‘re right, I seriously don’t know why I ever fell for you.” The smug look on Wanda’s face fell. She’s had many people admit their feelings for her but none have ever admitted to regretting them.

Y/n didn’t wait for Wanda’s response and started to walk away but Wanda’s hand stopped her from going. Not wanting to hear anything more, Y/n blurted, “Don’t say anything stupid now, Wanda.”

Snatching her hand out of Wanda’s grip, Y/n declared, “You might get your heart broken if you do.”

Taglist: @halobaby  @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog

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@imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy​@olsensnpm​ @psychadelichues​ @whitelotus00 @taliiiaasteria @tynix @autorasexy @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @hiiraya @reginassweetheart @milkeeteaa

@msmothermaximoff @unicorniusfallapatorius @cakechan123 @anniedanvers @oh-thats-cute @ielliesitcheyereposts @how-to-disappearrr @justyourwritter69 @canvascoloredin (Wanted to tag y'all because I think y'all wanted a part two, but I won't add y'all to future taglists unless you want me to)

[whatthefishh]

C*ck Therapy

Therapist Steven Grant x patient!camgirl!female reader

Warnings: 18+, taboo relationship, therapist-patient sexual relations, c*ck warming, p in v, unprotected, mentions of cam girl activities, mentions of masturbation, mentions of oral (f rec), umm.. how else do I tag this. Brat taming Steven.

Just 1.8k words of horniness I’m sorry. Beta’d by the lovely @melodygatesauthor

“I’m not moving until you tell me what’s got you so angry, love,” he said while gripping your hips down onto his, not letting you roll them the way you longed to.

See, Steven used to be your therapist. He used to be your kind, respectful, and attentive therapist for about 4 months but that quickly changed when you decided to divulge your secondary income source – your premium content. Subscription based content. Adult modeling. Your camgirl side hustle. Whatever you wanted to call it.

He didn’t take the information as well as you were hoping, stuttering and blushing and not meeting your eyes, and you felt uncomfortable, thinking he was judging you for it. In actuality, Steven had found your profile a few weeks prior to your confession, and couldn’t help but palm himself to your entire content library. He’d never come harder than he had on the first night he stumbled upon one of your videos. It wasn’t long before he became addicted to the way you fell apart on camera.

He knew it was wrong, he knew it was probably against some rule about him being your therapist but he couldn’t help it. You were so intelligent in your sessions with him, always providing great insight on your own issues. You were one of his favourite patients. He was really happy with the progress you were making, and well… Steven couldn’t deny that you were beautiful. He was sure you were well aware of your beauty, so he never fancied himself someone you’d find attractive, especially considering the nature of your relationship. It was sort of forbidden. No, it was forbidden. The guilt didn’t stop him from subscribing to you though.

In your sessions, he never made you feel uncomfortable, he never gave away that he knew about your secret side gig, and he honestly wanted to help you. Steven was genuine in his career, he loved listening to you open up to him. He didn’t think his guilty addiction to you was hindering your growth until you mentioned your videos and apparently it showed on his face. He began stumbling over his words, trying desperately to explain that he wasn’t judging you. When you told him he was making a ‘cringe face’, he was forced to admit that he was actually cringing at himself, not at you. It was a painful few moments for you both.

Long story short, he couldn’t keep seeing you in his office, and decided some private sessions in his home were more appropriate. They usually started off with him bending you over the couch and then asking you how your day went as he righted your clothing, or kissing you messily the second you walked through the door, only to ravenously eat you out on the closest surface he could find. He was insatiable. Half your sessions were him just whining and whimpering about how delicious you were and how he couldn’t believe you were really letting him do this to you. Steven still let you talk, still listened to your issues and still tried to therapize you. It was just after he fucked your brains out.

You came over with an attitude today, irritated by external factors and you were looking forward to Steven fucking it out of your system. When you tried to initiate it with him, to get him to give you what you needed, he pulled back to look at you in concern. He offered to talk first, and you got angry and scoffed in his face, ripping yourself from his grasp. He conceded, telling you to take your frustrations out on him as he sat on the couch you usually laid down on in your sessions, patting his thighs in invitation. You were supposed to ride him, putting all your energy into it and watching his brows furrow as he watched his length disappear inside you again and again.

Today, he was hell-bent on you cockwarming him, claiming it was supposed to get you talking quicker but you were highly doubting the validity of his statement with the way his cock was twitching inside you every few minutes. Your slick was coating your thighs and the hairs at the base of his member, flowing more freely the longer he sat unmoving inside your hot channel. Infuriatingly, he held your hips down with his impossible strength, looking up at you with those sweet brown eyes of his as he repeated his question. Shit, what was the question?

“Hmmm?” you managed, after another unsuccessful attempt at rolling your hips.

“I said, what’s got you so angry today, love? Talk to me. I’ll make it worth it, I promise, but first you have to be good and tell me what’s wrong,” he urged, nudging your chin with his shapely nose.

You had inhale deeply, your breathlessness making it hard for you to speak. God, he really was so thick, wasn’t he? He was filling you up so perfectly, stretching you out at this angle and you had to close your eyes to even think about what you were going to say.

“That girl at work… the one I told you about who leaves all her shit for me to clean up after her shift–”

“Mhmm, keep talking, love,” the vibrations from his chest felt like an electric shock through your body, your back arching at the sensations.

“Ahhh, she-she made a mistake, and blamed me… and, and then I got reamed out by my stupid manager,” you were close to crying now, the anger subsiding slowly, and the feeling of being denied by Steven taking over.

“Ohh, sweetheart, s’not right, is it?” He brushed your hair back and rubbed your cheekbone with his thumb, and you couldn’t help but lean into his palm like a cat needing affection. “S’not your fault. Tell you what, maybe you should quit.”

“Maybe you should fuck me, come on, Steven, just–just make it go away, I need you,” you were whining pathetically, ready to let your fists land on his chest in a rage.

Steven tutted at you. He tutted, like you were a petulant child, like you were just having a tantrum, like a teacher gently disciplining a student, not like you were sitting on his cock, leaking all over him and the couch, staining the taupe suede material with your juices. Leaning forward to softly mouth at your neck, he whispers against it and lets his lips graze your skin.

“I wouldn’t be a good therapist if I didn’t let you talk about it first, would I? That’s not very ‘healing comes from within’ of me,” he laughed at the end of it, his hot breath burning you even further.

Oh, you hate him. You tightened your core when he laughed against you, the rumbling causing his cock to shift slightly and you let out a soft moan at the smallest amount of friction it granted you, and he unwillingly thrust upwards at the feeling. Oh, you knew how to get back at him.

Clenching around him again, you wait for his reaction as your lips touch the shell of his ear, whimpering, as he garbled out a choked out groan against your neck. Steven’s hips unwittingly thrust upwards again, knocking into your cervix just that small amount, enough to make you dig your nails into his shoulders where your hands were resting. You were both moaning now, and you think you can tease him like this until he finally gave in and fucked you from under you. You needed him to, therapy be damned.

Dragging your hands up into his hair, he shuddered when your nails scraped across his scalp. He licked his lips, the edge of his tongue grazing your neck before he pulled back to look into your eyes and the previous soft look he was giving you was gone, replaced with a heady look, eyelids low as his mouth was open and panting.

“No, but considering that you’re inside me right now, I’d say you’re halfway there,” you gasp as his hand shifts down to your ass, squeezing, fingers splayed wide and pulling at the flesh there.

You lean more into his chest, your breasts pressing into him now, his mouth sitting just so, dipping down to mouth at them through your top. Steven’s control was slowly slipping, his idea failing spectacularly as he pulled your hips to roll and grind on his. You squeezed your muscles around his thick and throbbing cock again, trying to entice him to pull out to the tip and buck up into you like you wished he would. You were gripping him so tight, and your slick was more than enough to make his movements smooth and yet Steven was holding back from giving you his all, his logic lost on you.

“Steven, please, I’m sorry for being short with you, I’m sorry, okay? Please just–”

You were cut off from your helpless begging when he decided he’d had enough, that you had suffered enough, that you learnt your lesson and that the anger you walked in with was gone, along with his restraint. Steven gripped your ass even tighter, his fingers pressing divots into your skin as he thrust up into you mercilessly, bouncing you on his length as you cried out for him.

His hands were squeezing you, keeping you wide open for him as he rendered you incoherent, pathetic moans and whines leaving you. With your mouth still close to his ear, your noises began spurring him on as he grunted with each pass of his cock into your hot cunt, desperate to reach his end. Your hands began bunching his blazer lapels, angry in the back of your head that he didn’t even take off his jacket when he sat you on his thick shaft. Your soft walls began fluttering around him, signaling that you were almost reaching your end, his relentless teasing having caught up with you now, hurtling you towards the edge quicker.

“Ohh, ffffuck, Steven I’m gonna–gonna come, yes,” you shouted, so close to your euphoria that you were desperate to reach. The way his cock was punching up into your cervix was just perfect, his smell overwhelming you, his hands squeezing you just right, everything was leading to this and you couldn’t help but whine when his thumb swiped at your clit once, twice–

You were coming hard.

His grunts and groans were muffled into your chest, his thrusts getting sloppy while he chased his own release, pulling your hips down to his so hard it almost hurt. Steven bucked his hips one final time before you felt the telltale pulsing inside of you, the warmth of his cum slowly trickling out from where you were still sheathed around him. He pulled back to look at it with brows raised, almost impressed at his own mess while still catching his breath.

“How are you feeling now, love? Still angry at me?”

“I wasn’t angry at you, Steven,” you sigh dazedly, shaking your head at him. “Silly man. But to answer your question, I’m feeling much better now that you’re done torturing me.”

[itz-mfkn-de]

mattheo x hufflepuff innocent naive type reader 🫡

AHH I LOVE THESE TWO TG🥳🥳 I hope you wanted a toxic Mattheo because that’s what my brain envisions so 🤗 for some reason I couldn’t think of like a story line so I kinda did like headcanons but at the same time it’s like not??? Idk I just hope you like it 😭

Warnings: toxic! Mattheo, manipulations, cussing, power play, black mail.

—

Mattheo riddle who’s never really cared for any of the girls he’d fuck, all of them were just trophies on his wall. (Quite literally, toxic! Mattheo steals a bra from every girl he fucks and puts the up on his wall.)

He saw sex as an outlet, a way to destress, so sex with no strings attached was a common thing in his everyday life to say the least.

That was until he’d saw you.

He could’ve sworn in that moment his heart dropped —to his dick. He was enamored by your pure innocence. The way your hair framed your face, your eyes, everything screamed…virgin. To be completely honest, Mattheo didn’t really care for inexperienced girls; he found such a waste of time. But you? You were a different case.

Toxic! Mattheo who follows you into the library one evening and sees you studying for an upcoming test.

He took only a few long strides too reach you, quick to feign a friendly look.

“Hello, I couldn’t help but notice you were going over some test notes.” He stated while he loomed over your smaller frame.

All you could offer him in response was a meek “yes”.

He quickly inserted himself into your everyday life after that. Study parter, seating chart, shoulder to lean on, you name it and he was there right next to you.

He sugar coated his entire persona, never once lashing out or showing any red flags.

And then you got together. And on boy, did all hell break lose.

Mattheo was controlling. You wanted to go to a study group with some friends? Why, it’s not like he was there? You just want to leave him. He ould feed these thoughts into your head until you’d feel too guilty to leave him.

Not only was he controlling but he was manipulative. You wouldn’t leave your dorm if he didn’t thrill your outfit was appropriate. You belonged to him, so why were you trying to impress other guys? Why did you want him to get angry at you, he just can’t stay happy when you ‘go out dressed Like a slut.’ And you being the sweet, naive, girlfriend you were, you’d go change and beg for his forgiveness. Hoe could you have been so selfish and hurt him like that?

He knew just how to make you bend to his every word, he’d sweet yell and talk down at you just to shower you in affection. He knew you loved him, you relied on him. And he was right, you did.

He’d pressure you to leave your friends if they suggested leaving him, because ‘they just want to tear us apart, why can’t you see that?’. You just wanted your boyfriend to be happy :(

You’d beg him to stop smoking which would only lead to him screaming at you for acting like his mother. You don’t control him, don’t act like you do. You’d walk away crying which hed coo at you for, walking up to you to wipe your tears and comfort you for the pain he caused.

You’d become so isolated from your friends that you’d depend solely on him, your feeling and thoughts all controlled by Mattheo. You were his angel, and he made sure it was known you were his, fighting any guy who’d even dare to look at you. You tried reasoning with him once and it ended in him not taking to you for the entire day.

You were never allowed to talk to other guys, unless it was his best friends which even then, had to be supervised. He was all you needed.

Oh and don’t you ever think of leaving him. He’d be the kind of guy to take pictures of you while you were fucking, and if you tried to leave him he’d threaten to send it to every body in the school. You’d never mention leaving him again. W

At the end of the day, you were the sweet Hufflepuff girl who Mattheo riddle had absolutely ruined.

[penkura]

Late Night Talks

Note: Decided to write this after this week's OP episode, hope all my Law fans are doing okay. :') It'll be fine, I'm sure. This is just some cute late night talking for Law and Reader, not connected to where you belong but is connected to the OP Men as Dads series, I suppose.

“You should sleep.”

Law is only a little bit startled when you speak, laying your arm across his chest while he lays back in your bed with a book in his hand, lamp and reading glasses still on despite the time. He hadn’t even realized it was almost 2am already, only checking the clock now and feeling slightly guilty.

“Did the light wake you?”

“No,” eyes still closed you shake your head, giving a small sigh when Law brings you closer with his free hand, “A few small kicks to my ribs did it. What are you reading tonight?”

“The fourteenth volume of Sora.”

“Gotta keep ahead of Rosi?”

“Hmm,” Law hums a bit and flips a page, not fully paying attention to the book, he’ll have to start this chapter again tomorrow, “Not really, but he likes to talk about it when I pick him up from school. I’m just refreshing myself on it.”

“Oh, please, like you don’t already know what happens.”

“Hey its been a while since I’ve read it. I need to make sure it’s still age appropriate too.”

“Well, thank you for that,” Laughing softly, you pat his chest which makes Law chuckle a bit in return, “He’s so smart though, especially for an eight year old. I’m sure he understands it all anyway.”

“He gets it from you.”

“Nope. Gets his looks and smarts from his father.”

“[Y/N]—”

“At least Cora has my eyes. Speaking of, your daughter would like a trip to the park later today.”

“Oh would she now?” Law raises an eyebrow at the ‘your daughter’ part, wondering what she did this time.

“Mm-hm, specifically asked for her daddy to take her too.”

“Asked?”

“Asked, had a tantrum, whatever you want to call it.”

Law just sighs and shakes his head, not that surprised hearing your nearly three year old had a tantrum earlier that day. Of course it’s common for toddlers, but normally you have nothing to report with Cora when Law gets home and she’s happy to be held and tucked into bed later in the evening. Her tantrums and fits are rate, but seem to happen more lately, he wonders if it’s due to his being at work until late or your pregnancy, but tonight is the first time it’s been mentioned in a while. Maybe he needs to try and talk to her alone.

“We should all go then. Take a walk as a family.”

“Mm…”

“[Y/N]-ya?”

It doesn’t surprise Law to see you’ve fallen back asleep just as quickly as you’d woken up, but he gets it, you’re more tired lately being so close to the end of your third pregnancy, to finally meeting your baby again. He’s as quiet as possible while he closes his book, setting it and his glasses to the side before he adjusts to having you in his arms as he lays down fully beside you. Law whispers a goodnight to you, placing a soft kiss to your forehead with one hand on your stomach to feel the little kicks that had woken you up in the first place before he soon falls asleep himself.

Even though morning is going to come soon, he’s grateful for the late night talks you two still have, even after all these years and now about to be three children. He’ll never get tired of them.

[feyhunter78]

Can you please do part two of Pink Pastels? Thank you 🩷

I definitely can!!! I'm honestly such a sucker for dual povs I swear it's like my calling card, so this chapter is in Miguel's pov! Fun fact: the bf in this story is based off my best friend's college boyfriend who showed up high out of his mind to her place of work SEVERAL times (I obvi changed his name though bc I'm a nice person)

Pt 3

Pink Pastels Pt 2

Miguel searches through every database, has Lyla run your face, your name, every detail he can find about you, and yet you only seem to appear here, in this universe where he swoops in right as your universe’s Miguel dies.

No one notices the switch. Not even his coworkers at Alchemax. In fact, they seem to welcome his “new attitude,” and he finds himself with a raise within the first two months.

This universe is quiet, the other him died from a fluke, embarrassingly enough. But it was so random, so unpredictable, that no one questioned “his” survival. So, life goes on as it had before, how he had watched it go on before.

The old woman who lives next door and watches Gabi when he’s “called into work late,” smiles at him, praises him for working so hard for his daughter. Gabi wakes up in the morning to him, her father, like always, eats breakfast, strawberries, blueberries, and honey on her toast, scrambled eggs with cheese, tomatoes, peppers, and a glass of milk. Then he drops her off at school on his way to work.

The monitors beep at him, and he turns back towards them. Finally, it’s found you in his universe, the victim of a plane crash, years before Gabi would even be born. It’s a painless death. You were among those killed on impact. Gone in a moment, but as he watches you here, in this new universe where his daughter is happy and thriving, he realizes just how desperately he wished he would have found you before you ever set foot in that airport.

“She’s pretty.” Lyla says, leaning forward, a teasing smile on her face. “Looks like someone’s got the hots for teacher?”

“No.” He deadpans, though he can’t tear his eyes from you. You’re sitting in a Mexican restaurant giggling into your margarita, another woman—Janey—sits across from you shoveling chips and queso into her mouth, making you laugh even harder.

You’re in that pink dress from earlier. It brightens your skin, hugs your curves but in a modest way, it’s more than appropriate for a teacher to wear, but he’s salivating at the thought of his talons tearing through it and exposing the soft flesh beneath.

Would you cry out for him? Cling to him as he fucks you? You look so pretty in pink, and he wants to go slow, keep you in that color for as long as possible, but he knows himself better than that. The moment he’s able to, he’ll shred the garment, leaving ribbons of fabric in his wake as he bends you over the nearest piece of furniture and slams into you. He wants to feel your warmth around him, hear you begging for him, his name falling from your perfect lips as he gropes your breasts, fangs scraping down your throat, marking you as his.

You laugh again at something the waiter said, and it’s musical, and perfect, you are perfect.

A twinge of jealousy, a foolish thing he knows, but the thought passes through his mind. It should be him making you laugh. He’s studied you now, he knows exactly what makes you laugh, what songs you hum as you prepare your classroom for the day, how you keep colorful Band-Aids in your purse because you just can’t turn off being a teacher, Janey.

And you’re Gabi’s favorite teacher, he wasn’t lying when he told you she talked about you, though he may have added the pretty part. She goes on and on about you, to the point where he almost doesn’t need the cams, he can get every bit of information from his daughter.

“And then, Ms. Y/N told us about her trip to Disney World! She went with her boyfriend, but I don’t know why.” Gabi says, collecting the animal shaped macaroni on her fork. He let her pick dinner, feeling guilty that he didn’t know she’d cried over her lost tooth.

He feels guilty about snapping at you too. He was already worked up, his job, the multiverse, traffic. And last night he forgot all about the Tooth Fairy, so in the morning Gabi was afraid the Tooth Fairy didn’t like her. But you don’t get rewards for losing things once you’ve grown up, and the idea of Gabi going into that pain blindly, having to watch as those she loves disappears around her makes him want to rip his heart from his chest.

“What do you mean Mija?” He asks, his own forkful of mac and cheese halfway to his mouth.

How had he missed you having a boyfriend? Was it serious? Did he treat you well? How easy would it be to make him disappear?

“Well, Ms. Y/N was really happy when she was talking about her trip, but then when she mentioned her boyfriend, she got sad.” Gabi explains, a frown tugging at her lips. “I don’t like him.”

“Yeah?” He prompts her, fighting the urge, to call up Lyla and have her run a search for your boyfriend.

“He came in one time on her birthday, but he was all weird and smelled bad.” Then she got up from the table and mimed stumbling and swaying. “And he walked like this. Ms. Y/N was really mad. Plus, he didn’t even bring her a present.”

Your boyfriend showed up to an elementary school—your place of work on your birthday, drunk, with no gift.

“That’s not nice, when was Ms. Y/N’s birthday?” If he was speaking to anyone but his daughter, he was sure they’d see right through them, but his sweet girl thought nothing of it.

“Last week, I wanted to tell you about it, but you were on your trip, so I told Tia Margo.”

Tia Margo, the old woman next door. He needs to speak with her about letting him know there was a drunk at his daughter’s school. Maybe next time he sees her in the hall, he’ll mention it to her.

“I wish you had told me, then maybe we could’ve gotten her a gift to make up for it.” He says, smiling at her, so she knows he’s not upset.

“I don’t think one gift would make it all better, she’s sad about her boyfriend a lot.” She emphasizes the last word, making the ending sound sharp as she stabs at her food.

“It sounds like he’s a bad boyfriend. Make sure you stay away from boys like him, Mija.” He can’t help but feel protective, even though she’s only six.

He watches as she eats, her hair in a simple braid, a sparkly pink hairband tying it off. “Who did your hair?”

She stops and proudly holds the braid up. “Ms. Y/N, well Emma did it first, but then it fell out when I did a cartwheel, so Ms. Y/N fixed it, and she said I could keep the hairband.”

If he focuses, he can smell the scent of you, mingled with the scent of his home, as if you’re already beside them in your rightful place.

“Maybe we should get her a thank-you gift?” He suggests, his heart warming at the excitement on Gabi’s face.

She is so good, so pure, and sweet. She is nothing like him, and yet she is everything he wished for her to be. He doesn’t know her mother, not in his original universe, but he knows her in this one, watched the other him break down over her leaving. Agony is a cannon event, no interference allowed. He hopes she never returns, that she stays away from his daughter. Doesn’t ruin her with her selfishness.

Just as your boyfriend is ruining you.

He waits until Gabi’s asleep to call out for Lyla. She appears and raises an eyebrow at the way he clutches your hairband.

“She has a boyfriend, find me everything you can on him.”

“I knew you had the hots for her.” Lyla laughs, disappearing before he can dismiss her.

He waits, packs Gabi’s lunch, slips two dollars under her pillow because he’ll be damned if his daughter believes some magical creature doesn’t like her, then cleans the kitchen and his bedroom three times over until finally Lyla returns.

“Okay, boss, you’re gonna want to sit down for this.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @aeryns--playground

[shanastoryteller]

Happy birthday! I would love some more rarepair dot/jack and miss fisher's murder mysteries. You write them amazingly 💚

Dot feels guilty for agreeing to go on this date. Her divorce from Hugh has only just been finalized, never mind that they’ve been living separately for the last year. She’s grateful it’s over with now – she doesn’t know how she would have felt if they’d been separated for longer than they’d been married under one roof, and that’s exactly what would have happened if everything had taken a couple more months.

It still feels too early, and it’s not like she’s ever dated before, Hugh having been her first relationship. But her neighbor Andrea had insisted that this would be good for her, and that her brother’s friend was perfect for her, and Dot is running low enough on friends that she hadn’t wanted to offend her and risk this new friendship collapsing in on itself.

She’d kept Jane and Mr. Butler, and Burt and Cec, of course, but all their other friends had landed firmly on Hugh’s side in everything, which she can’t even say is unfair, considering. But it is a little lonely. There’s a reason one of the first things she’d done was move back to Melbourne, toward the people who still liked her and away from everyone else. Her mother is appalled, but her priest is excited enough at having her back that he’s apparently willing to overlook the whole divorced bit.

She resists the urge to smooth back her hair again, wonders if she should have chosen a dress with a longer hem, but being a divorced woman provides so few benefits that it seems only fair that she take advantage of them.

“Dorothy?”

She looks up, breaking out into a smile at the familiar face. “Detective! How are you?” She gets to her feet, although she still has to crane her neck to look up at him. She forgot how tall he was. “You look well.”

“As do you, Miss Williams,” he says, a teasing lilt to his voice.

She flushes. She never would have worn anything like this a few years ago, but lots of things were different then. Besides, Miss Fisher is always encouraging her to take risks in her letters. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Well,” he says, lips pulled up on one side. On a second look, it seems like she can figure that out for herself. He doesn’t look old, really, but he does look tired, something weary about his eyes and shoulders that he didn’t have when she saw him last.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, cutting off whatever answer he would have grave.

The relief on his face makes her think she made the right decision. “I’m meeting someone, actually, although I’m not sure who. Andrea wouldn’t even give me her name.”

Dot blinks once, twice, then raises her hand to her mouth, heat crawling it’s way up her neck. “I’m going to kill her.”

It only takes Jack a second to catch on. “Ah. But,” his eyes flicker down to her hand, “I see.”

Hugh hadn’t told him, then. He’d called her Miss Williams, but that could have been habit more than anything else. Maybe they don’t talk. She assumed they did, but she’d assumed a lot of things.

Jack’s hesitating. If she lets him, he’ll make some sort of excuse and she won’t see him again unless she starts stalking crime scenes again.

“I’ll tell you the dirt details, if you like,” she offers, sitting back down looking expectantly to the chair across from her. He takes it, some of his hesitance bleeding away as he leans forward. “It’s not that exciting, I’m afraid.”

He smiles at her. He really is very handsome. “I bet I can guess.”

Dot raises an eyebrow, waiting.

“You outgrew him,” he says. “He was always struggling to keep up with you.”

It sounds so cruel put like that, but it’s also entirely correct. Hugh’s a good man and he’ll probably be a good husband – to someone else. To someone like she used to be, perhaps, but not at all for who she is now. “Well, I wish someone had told me that.”

“It didn’t seem appropriate,” he says, almost apologetic, and his eyes start to dip lower before guiltily jerking back up to her face.

“No,” she says, almost breathless. “I suppose not.”

[the-faceless-bride]

Monster OC HC!! - ☆Boris Howlles☆

Relationship HC with Boris Howlles...

Boris Howlles who...When he met you, it was on a full moon, you walked home after a night with your friends when he came rushing towards you with his glowing eyes. And he probably would've killed you. He squeezed you so tight, dug his nails into your arms so hard he left scratches. But he whimpered and threw himself off of you before grabbing at his head, a few moments later he was looking at you, his angry shaped eyes looked soft and guilty.

Boris Howlles Who... when you came looking a few days later, he shunned away from you. He was a monster, Cursed from the day he was born to be a child of the night. To animal like and monstrous to be human, to Human like to be an animal. He expected you to bring a trail of angry humans with touches and pitchforks. But was interested in you, when all you asked was to 'boop' his nose.

Boris Howlles who... dispite his mean looking face and seemingly hard outter shell, comes to enjoy your company, you're his first real friend! And so he tells you everything! About how Shifters and werewolves are different! The reason vampires and wolves of any kind don't get along, how the moon cycles affect how intense his more animalistic features and tendencies are; he tells you how his favorite places to be scratched if his chest and tummy!

Boris Howlles who... in time gets more and more attached, one day following you home in the dead of night, not telling you he was there. Until you woke up the next day to see him standing hunched over into your fridge looking around for something to eat, he was so hungry :( he sat ON your table while you made something to eat, tossing him a steak you had in your freezer. He confesses his attachment to you. He wants to be a pack with you, he'd been alone for so long that now he just can't let you go.

Boris Howlles who... is always trying to convince you to skip work and stay home with him :) who needs stupid money when it should be free to live, so just don't go out and be with him! You have to explain that's not how it works and pry him off your leg to leave the house every single time. And when one day you come smelling like... someone else, he gets... jealous... more than he was comfortable with. He gets angry and pouty with you. He doesn't utter a word to you for the next hour, mad at you for leaving and mad you had the nerve to spend time with someone else! But then that anger shifts...

Boris Howlles who... wishes he was born a Shifter instead. He's angry at fate. He didn't have a human form, he could never walk down the street with you, never hold your hand without worrying about scratching you or accidentally pulling to hard and taking your arm off, he would never be able to... properly kiss you. Not with his stupid snout and sharp fangs. He realizes in that moment that he loves you, but you couldn't be with him. It wouldn't be fair... he only opens up to these confessions and insecurities after you sat next to his and scratched his chest and tummy for thirty minutes.

Boris Howlles who... is thrilled to hear you feel the same way! You'd tried to deny your feelinging thinking a human and a 'monster' like him wouldn't be okay, or appropriate. But he didn't care, and neither should you! He loves you! And he'll be loyal and trustworthy till the very bitter end. However that doesn't stop the jealousy and insecurities of his, one day you came home smelling like that Coworker of yours the one that while you can't tell, he can smell the last they left behind on you. And he wasn't very happy.

Boris Howlles who... that night fully bonded himself to you, and you to him. He tried to be soft... tried to start slow... he was much bigger than you, and he really didn't want to hurt you. But the more he thought of you being his forever and creating a soul bond with him made his so excited... and the idea of that coworker being lustful about you made his so angry :( he was relentless and his pace was unforgiving. His brain just repeated the words "Mine, Mine, Mine, Mate, Mate, Mate," over and over and over again. He didn't stop until you passed out. Unable to take the overstimulatuon anymore.

Boris Howlles who... the morning after made you breakfast... or tried to atleast, he's too big for your little cozy apartment and isn't used to how your human technology works. It's a little burned and bland but you appreciated it nonetheless, and he happily cuddles you the rest of the day off from work. Only stopping to take a shower when you questioned him on the red liquid splatters on his fur, he said it was from a while ago but that wasn't true. It was from last night after he made sure you were passed out! You won't be seeing your coworker the next day at work tomorrow because he just couldn't let them get too close to you, his sweet little doe. But, you didn't need to know that. :)

Art work of Boris is on my 2nd account @all-about-bride

[myadmiringmind]

In-law Dinners | Peeta Mellark

Peeta Mellark Masterlist

AU: The Hunger Games do not exist. They live in a small town that mines coal.

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre: Fluff | Hurt?/Comfort

Pairing(s): Peeta Mellark x wife!Reader

Summary: You are no stranger to dinners with your in-laws. However, it’s been a while, making you more nervous than usual.

Warnings: Hostility, anxiety, stress, food, just a kind of awkward dinner, and swearing.

Note(s):

Peeta’s mother and brothers suck

Established relationship

|PICTURES ARE NOT MINE|

——————————————————

You were stalling, you knew that. You told your husband that you needed to find a more appropriate jacket to wear with your outfit, instead of the one you usually wore.

You had no doubt that Peeta was aware you were stalling but as the ever perfect lover he is, amused you by playing into your lies.

To be fair, you did attempt to look at the other coats in your closet. Just to see if there was one that would make this night go a little smoother. But as your gaze rested upon each coat that you had personally picked and loved every time that you wore them, your mind could only bring up the nasty comments your mother in law never failed to make.

When you caught sight of his blonde hair in the mirror you pretended to straighten out the nonexistent creases or wrinkles on your outfit that you had already spent too much time worrying about the week that led up to this day. Both of you knew he would see right through this act, but you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about your negative feelings.

He walked towards you cautiously. When you could feel his body heat, he turned towards the closet. He examined the pieces of clothing before plucking one off of the rack.

“How ‘bout this one?” He smiled

You gazed down at the coat and your heart swelled. It was one of your favorites (you were certain Peeta knew), and it would go nicely with your attire.

As you took the coat from him he reached his hand up to your face so that he could push some of your hair out of your eyes.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked softly, gazing at you with all the affection in the world.

You shook your head, drawing your eyes away from him.

He cupped your face gently and brought your gaze back to his, “We don’t have to go.” 

You shook your head again, “Yes we do-” 

“No, we don’t. I am not going to make you do anything that’s going to make you uncomfortable.” You knew he meant it. You didn’t even have to hear him say it.

“I want to do it.” You explained. The unspoken “For you.” hung in the air. 

He smiled appreciatively at you and stroked your cheek. You didn’t even notice yourself leaning into the warmth of his hand. 

“I know my family is hard to deal with..” Peeta began

You were quick to cut in, “Peeta-” 

“You don’t have to say anything, I know they are. Which is why I would never force you to spend any amount of time with them.” He said it so sincerely that you wanted to give in. To say “I don’t want to go” and kiss him goodbye, sit on the couch, watch a movie, and wait for him to get home. 

But you also knew you’d spend that time feeling guilty, even though you shouldn’t, because Peeta is right and you shouldn’t have to deal with your in-laws just for him. But you want to. Because even though Peeta’s family sucks, he cares for them. And he cares for you. And you know he’d put himself in this position one hundred times over if it was your family just to make you happy. 

So you don’t give in, even though you really wish you would. 

Your hand reaches up to cup his hand that was still cradling your cheek. You gave it a reassuring squeeze and looked him straight in the eye as you said, “I want to go to dinner with you tonight.” 

Peeta gazed at you for a few extra moments before nodding, “Okay.” he ended it with a sweet kiss as if to say, “Thank you.”

-----------------------------

Being in a relationship with Peeta improved your punctuality. You never arrived too early or too late. It was a skill of his you deeply appreciated and made you glad it rubbed off on you.

Peeta carried a tote bag (that you bought for him) with the baked goods he made for tonight in one arm, and held your hand in the other.

Before he knocked on the front door, he looked at you and smiled, “I’ll be right beside you the whole time. We can leave at any point, just say the word.” He whispered in your ear.

You gave his hand a grateful squeeze and nodded.

It took only a few moments after knocking on the door for his father to appear on the other side.

Simple greetings were made. Peeta’s father was easily the most tolerable, even if he could be awkward sometimes.

Peeta’s father ushered the two of you into the house and Peeta placed your jacket and shoes at the sad coat rack next to the front door.

His childhood house was smaller than your home, even though only you and Peeta lived there. Everything in this house was noticeably old and worn out. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if it wasn’t for the tense atmosphere.

You owned many thrifted things, and had done many home projects, but the two of you always felt it made your house more of a home.

As you walked through the small hallway you noticed all the things that were self-fixed and the cracks made in the walls that made the house look even sadder.

The sight of this house around you made you uneasy, your only comfort being Peeta’s hand.

Peeta

You turned your head towards the man you loved and your heart sank. Your wonderful husband who was kind and good, had the misfortune to grow up in a house like this.

He turned his head at the feel of your gaze. Somehow, he was always able to read your thoughts. A sad smile and a barely noticeable shrug was his way of saying, “It is what is.”

You held his hand a little tighter.

If it was just Peeta’s father and brothers, dinners wouldn’t be as hard for you to attend. But it wasn’t just his brothers and father.

Peeta’s mother stood in the kitchen, handing plates to Peeta’s two older brothers to set them onto the table. She had a look of annoyance on her face, just like every other time you saw her.

When she looked up you felt a jolt go through your body.

The woman’s look of annoyance turned to a scowl.

“Took the two of you long enough.” She barked

It was still a couple minutes before the agreed upon time.

“We weren’t expecting so much traffic.” Peeta said in his usual optimistic voice.

Peeta’s words didn’t soften his mothers scowl as she sharply nodded her head towards the small table, “You two can finish setting up.”

Her attitude wasn’t surprising to either of you. You had been friends with Peeta since school and got together before you graduated. You’ve had plenty of time to grow used to the less than hospitable nature of his mother. But it never stopped the anger from building in your chest when they treated Peeta the way they did.

——————

Dinner was..awkward, to say the least. A lot of jabs from Peeta’s brothers and outright degrading comments from Peeta’s mother. Your father-in-law mostly kept quiet unless he was making more small talk.

You truly believed that the only reason the two of you were ever invited to dinner was because of the envelope with a check Peeta would give his father at the end of every visit.

Peeta provided for them, because he felt he owed them for ‘raising’ him.

You agreed knowing it made him feel guilty not to.

The money he gave was some portion of the money that he made from his paintings, never asking or allowing you to give some of your money.

The car ride home was silent, unlike the one on the way there. Peeta was visibly tense and you were sure that you were too. But his hand wrapped with yours wasn’t firm or anything.

When he pulled in front of your house and turned off the car, the two of you just sat there for a moment in the dark.

You rubbed what you hoped was soothing circles on the back of his hand.

When he let out a deep breath you were relieved that you were helping.

“I don’t think I can do this forever.” He muttered

You nodded, “And you don’t have to.”

“Then, why do I feel like I do?” He turned his head towards you, his eyes glazed over in tears.

“Because you care for them…because despite everything they’ve done you give them the benefit of the doubt.”

“I keep thinking they’ll change.” He shook his head, “Then, I see how they talk to you and I..” he ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

You squeezed his hand and shook your head, “You don’t need to worry about me-“

“I do need to worry about you!” Peeta cut in with a loud voice, “You’re the love of my life and my family treats you horribly! And-and I let them!”

You think back to tonight’s dinner. How Peeta defended you from every comment, praised you for your achievements, and redirected any conversation they tried to start with you, “You don’t let them.” You brushed a couple stray hairs from his face.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” He shook his head, “I won’t let you deal with this anymore.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “What are you talking about Peeta?”

“The next time they ask us over for dinner, I’ll send the check in the mail. They’ll get the hint.” He said with a sad tone.

“Oh, baby…” you weren’t sure what to say.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop seeing them entirely. I’m not sure I ever will. But some time away and some space will be good for me.” He looked at you again, but this time he smiled a little. “I think it’ll be good for us.”

You were close to crying yourself.

“I meant what I said on our wedding day, you’re the most important person to me and I promised to put you above everyone else.” His unoccupied hand wiped away a tear from your cheek.

You leaned in and rested your forehead against his, taking in his words and proximity. You knew how hard this was for him. How hard it’s always been.

“I’m proud of you.” You whispered

Peeta’s eyes met yours and he kissed you. A sweet, meaningful kiss like many you had had before.

Peeta was the first to speak, “Let’s go inside, I want to have a real dinner with my wife.”

—————

“Thank you for coming with me today. I don’t think I ever would’ve found the strength to finally admit to myself…something I think I’ve always known, without you.” Peeta murmured against the crown of your head.

Your head rested upon your husband's chest, listening to his steady heart beat, with one of your hands spread across his stomach, fingers laced with his.

“I love you.” Was your explanation.

You felt his lips curl up into a smile, “I love you too.”

[blossomarlia]

A Quiet Escape

you find your introverted boyfriend, remus, hiding from a party.

remus x fem!reader

warnings: none!

Remus is hiding around the shady side of Lily and James’ house, expression guilty the moment he sees you. 

You beam reassuringly. “Hiya.” 

“Hey- I’m sorry,” He says. You cock your head; he’s always so adamant that you not apologise, it’s amusing when he falls into the trap himself. Before you can call him out on it, he continues, “Warranted apology, sweetheart. I was being plagued by Peter’s aunt Mathilda and I abandoned you completely.”

“It’s alright, Remus,” You step forwards, hands behind our back. A perk of having a boyfriend who sneaks off during garden parties to escape the crowd is the joy of finding him in private places like this. You’d used to worry that you were intruding, only he’d assured you that your presence is one of the select few he’s not avoiding. “I’ve been having a lovely time discussing how to get the most out of a lemon tree with Mr Evans.”

Remus smiles fondly, meeting you in the middle and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Have you?” “M-hm.”

“Darling girl, we don’t have a lemon tree. Do you think we ought to get one?” You think for a moment. Remus watches your expression, wishing he had a photograph of you in this (and every) moment, all sunkissed and happy. “I don’t think so,” You decide. “We haven’t the space and if we did, neither of us like lemons enough to find a whole tree useful.”

“Probably true.” You stand on your tip-toes to kiss him, hands laced around the back of Remus’ neck. He presses his hand affectionately to your cheeks- the skin there is still warm. “Are you burnt?”

“Not terribly,” You admit, smiling guiltily at his raised eyebrows. “The sun’s not nearly so fierce anymore. I have aloe vera in the glovebox of your car, we can get it if you’re ready to head home.”

Remus laughs softly, more out of affection than anything. He’d want you forever in the summer, warm and tasting of fruit punch, if you weren’t equally lovely in the wintertime when he can dress you in his jumpers and share hot chocolates. 

“I don’t want to pull you away from the party,” He says. It’s not the whole truth; if he could take you home this moment and kiss you more than would be appropriate down the side of his best friends’ house, he would, but you’re so outgoing and he’d hate to cut your day short. 

“Plenty of people are leaving,” You assure him, as if you can read his mind. He wouldn’t put it past you. “We won’t be hurting any feelings. You’ve valiantly made it through six entire hours, I’m very impressed.”

Remus doesn’t feel very valiant, tempted as he is by the thought of a book on the sofa with your feet in his lap. He hates the idea that he’s dulling your happiest moments for you, irritated by even the dearest of his friends far more quickly than you are. You’re really the only person who has the opposite effect; he can’t seem to be around you enough, even when you’re right in front of him.

“I’ll find a way to help inside.” “No, don’t,” You shake your head. “I’m happy to head off. Just give me a moment to say goodbye?”

You’re so sweet that Remus has to press another kiss to your soft lips, knowing he has at least another half-hour before you’re finished bidding farewell to the small crowd on the lawn and not minding in the least. “Of course, lovely girl.”

“Thanks, lovely boy,” You laugh softly, mirroring his gentle tone and holding his face tenderly in both hands. “I’m excited to tell you the gossip I learned.”

He raises his eyebrows, intrigued. As little as Remus enjoys having the conversations wherein he would learn gossip for more than a few minutes every few weeks, he very much likes hearing you relaying news from your group of friends to him in front of the telly. 

“I’ll meet you by the car,” He says, reluctantly letting go of you. You smile. 

“See you then, handsome.” 

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Sunflower Sorrow - A Hanahaki Tale

A/N: Thank you so much @actuallysaiyan for making the pretty banner! And for reading my drafts and reassuring me multiple times that the story wasn't garbage.

All original artwork is credited at the bottom of the post.

Pairing: Higuruma x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, mentions of pain and death, PIV sex, clitoral and vaginal fingering, oral (fem receiving),

Summary: The reader finds herself infested with Hanahaki, right at the cusp of beginning to date her long time crush.

Higurma Masterlist

Your eyes open blearily against the sunlight pouring in, feeling like you’d much rather stay in bed than anything else. There’s a strange feeling in your body, almost like you’re about to come down with the flu, your chest feeling tight, and your throat feeling dry. Which is strange because you were fine when you went to bed. 

You groan as you roll over under the covers. Now was not the time to be getting sick. You wonder if you’re even well enough to go to work. Almost instinctively, your hand reaches for your phone, squinting against the backlight as you check your messages. A smile graces your face as you see a text from the man you had been out with last night.

I know this was just our second date, but I’m already thinking about a third. I’ve enjoyed our time together recently and would like to see you again. I guess get back to me? Oh, and I hope kissing you good night was appropriate. 😅

“Hiromi,” you mumble under your breath, feeling a rush of happiness flow through you as you read his text. The man was incredibly sweet and transparent and you loved that about him. Dating in your thirties was hard but he had given off some very positive signals over these last two dates and you couldn’t help but want to set up a third one quickly. You liked being around him, he was laid back and almost goofy, traits that most men seemed to lose at a certain age. Maybe if you recovered from this flu fast enough you can meet up with him over the weekend. 

I’d love that. I’m a little under the weather right now but if I’m feeling better by the weekend we can make plans? I’d like to see you again too. And yes, the kiss good night was totally appropriate. 😊

You text him back, heart fluttering as you hit send. You’re glad you had finally bitten the bullet and asked him out. There were signs of interest, but you had been secretly admiring him from afar for the better part of a year now. He was very gentlemanly, opening doors, asking if he could hold your hand, and checking in on your comfort while you were with him. A lawyer turned sorcerer, he talked passionately about his past cases and the interesting events that sparked his path into Jujutsu. On the first date, the both of you had been so wrapped up in conversation it took the poor waiter a minute to get a word in edgewise to ask if either of you had wanted another glass of wine. 

He was so impossibly handsome, the thick black hair and rich mahogany eyes, that crooked smile that came onto his face when he was amused by something. It was a wonder how he was still single. Just passing by him in the hallways made your heart pound, so sure that his greetings to you were just platonic and nothing more. There were so many other talented people in this institution, that you didn’t possibly think he could have any interest in you, convincing yourself those brief glances he gave you were imagined. 

But after last night’s kiss…so soft and patient, the lingering of lips, his large hands resting courteously on the small of your back, resting his forehead on yours, unwilling to let you go. Your hand had gripped the lapel of his coat, his scent flooding your senses, something woody and spicy that made you want to bury your face into his neck. Sure it’s only been two dates, but you couldn’t help but imagine what your life could be like with him. It felt like a guilty pleasure admitting it to yourself, but it wasn’t hurting anybody. It’s not like you were clawing at his door begging to move in with him. You were just really attracted to him, smitten, perhaps was the right word. 

A small ding from your phone shows a response from him. 

I’m sorry you’re not well. Yes, please get better soon, and let’s plan something for the weekend. I totally wasn’t waiting for your text by the way. You just happened to catch me on a break. 😉And I’m glad the kiss was appropriate. 

His text makes you giggle. How could someone be this adorable? The lucidity of his intentions was refreshing, with no awkward back and forth of painfully crafted messages trying to sound casual. He was making his interest plain, making it easier for you to let down the wariness of sounding too eager. It was a pleasant change of pace compared to some of the other dates you had been on. You hoped this would go somewhere. You wanted it to go somewhere…

A sudden coughing fit overtakes you, racking your body as you feel something come up your throat. You reach for a tissue from your nightstand…and then look dumbstruck at what falls into it. 

You stare at the yellow flower petals, each about an inch long, covered in pale pink mucus. A feeling of dread and anxiety fills you and you crumple the tissue, trying not to think about what you just saw. Your brain races. What could it be? Cancer? Was there a cancer that made your insides turn into tapered flower petals? Or maybe those weren’t flower petals but a tissue of some sort? The feeling of tightness in your chest gets worse. Maybe a visit to the doctor’s wasn’t a bad idea.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

Shoko places your X-rays against the lightboard and frowns. You’re no medical expert but even you can see what the problem was. You stare at them with morbid curiosity. 

“Are those…?”

“Sunflowers, it looks like,” Shoko confirms, the large circular flowerheads unmistakable. “And they’re growing very fast. Your lungs will burst if they keep up at this rate.” She throws away her gloves and looks thoughtful.

“It’s strange how recently a lot of Hanahaki cases have popped up. We had Nanami in here a few weeks ago with the same thing.”

“And Nanami is in perfect health,” you interject, hoping Shoko is about to tell you a cure. “What is it? A pill? Surgery?” 

Shoko purses her lips and then faces you. “Hanahaki can be removed surgically. However, you’ll lose whatever feelings you have for the person that caused it.”

Feeling like you’d been doused with a bucket of ice water, all you could say was, “Oh.”

“But you’re dating Higuruma, aren't you?” Shoko asks. 

“It’s only been 2 dates,” you admit. “But it’s going well.”

Shoko’s expression remains impassive but she continues in a gentle voice. “But it’s obvious you’ve wanted him for much longer than that. The size of these flowers…How long have you loved him?”

Your chest tightens uncomfortably, this time not just from the flowers. “Who said anything about loving him?”

“The flowers don’t grow unless it’s love. But it looks like they were growing slowly and then when you started dating, your feelings intensified and caused them to bloom faster. Hanahaki rates vary from person to person depending on the level of emotions involved.” 

A nervous ripple passes through your body at the thought. You remembered the way you had yearned for him after the kiss but were worried about scaring him off. Who confessed their love for someone on a second date? 

“Is there any way to slow it down?”

Shoko shakes her head no. “The only thing that helps is when they return your feelings. Romantically.” 

“I see.” There’s a moment of silence before you double over as another coughing fit grips you, a blob of red and yellow falling into your hands along with a few black and white sunflower seeds.

“Couldn’t you just tell him?” Shoko helps you get up to the sink in the examination room. You wash your hands and spit out the flower petals that are stuck in your gums. “I mean, he wouldn’t be dating you if he wasn’t interested.”

“You don’t tell a guy you love him after two dates!” You wipe your mouth and grip the counter trying to think. You glance at the X-ray, wondering.

“How long do I have?”

“It’ll worsen over the next few weeks now that the plants have started to bloom. Beyond that…it’s difficult to say. The more time you spend with him and he doesn’t say he loves you, it’ll only accelerate the process. You’ll feel little moments of relief, followed by an even stronger relapse.”

For the first time since this morning, you felt genuine fear. What if Hiromi didn’t feel more for you? What if after a few more dates he decided you weren’t what he was looking for? Were your only choices waiting for him to love you back or to have your feelings surgically removed?

“Am I going to die from this?” The words leave your throat in a whisper. Shoko flinches and appears to struggle with how to word her response. 

“I hope not. I hope for your sake he does feel the same way.” Shoko hesitates before continuing. “I don’t want to alarm you but…if it truly becomes critical, have you considered having a plan of action?”

A tense silence passes between you both as you weigh her words. “I hadn’t. But…” You consider the words. “Is it worth dying for love, Shoko?”

“I can’t answer that for you. I can only say that I don’t wish to see you suffer.” 

You drop down into one of the chairs, covering your face with your hands, trying not to cry. You had never wanted anyone quite in this way, trying to brush it off as a crush but the feelings never went away, always persistent, weighing down on your thoughts at all times of the day. You remember the tender way he’d looked at you after the kiss, brushing strands of hair behind your ears, gently drawing you against his chest, a cozy moment. He certainly seemed to be fine with the pace things were going at and hadn’t asked if he could come in like some men had after such a short time. 

“Is there any chance that he’d…love me back in that way?” 

“If he harbors those kinds of feelings for you then yes. But given that the window is narrowing, the sooner, the better.”

But what if…

Your mind resolves, and you sigh, finalizing on a decision. “Shoko.”

She looks at you curiously, hearing the change in your voice. Yes? 

“I want to live no matter what.” Your hands ball into fists and although the notion makes your heart clench, you tell her your decision. “If my health declines, I want to be kept alive with special medical intervention. But if it gets to a point where the Hanahaki is going to be fatal to me… Please surgically remove it.”

Shoko looks at you surprised. “Really?” 

“Really. Don't leave it up to chance.” You rub your eyes wearily. It felt like a cruel joke, longing for Hiromi for so long, then when you finally started dating it ended up triggering the Hanahaki at a faster rate. “I may love him but…I mean I have a life too. If it gets that bad… it would imply he doesn't feel that way…and he may never feel that way. It may sound selfish but… I want to live.” 

“I get it. You don't have to explain to me.” Shoko pats your shoulder. “But considering your life is on the line maybe don't hold back in showing him how much you love him?” 

You laugh humorlessly. “How many men do you know who respond well to a woman saying she loves them after 2 dates?” 

Shoko sighs. “Fair enough. I wish you luck.”

 *＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

You hadn't set the third date. After the intense conversation with Shoko, you just felt like you needed to be by yourself. 

The bed felt so comforting but sleep eluded you as the coughing worsened, shaking your whole being. You got up countless times to clean yourself in between and finally having had enough, dragged yourself out of bed to grab a pot from the kitchen, heaving into it, watching with horror as it filled. After 24 hours, it had progressed from seeds and petals into partial flower fragments, bunches of petals stuck to a portion of the flower head falling out of your mouth. 

Your head throbbed, feeling like it could burst. Almost self-pityingly you think about what life would be like if you hadn’t asked him out. Eventually, it would have made no difference, the Hanahaki would’ve grown despite that, you muse to yourself, feeling the scrape of stems and roots embedding their way into your organs. How did things change so fast? You were fine and one kiss later…

Your phone buzzes, and you barely manage to pick it up, looking at it with one eye open, your pulse racing as you see his name. 

How are you feeling? Still sick? 🥺

A smidgen of relief is felt in your chest, surprising you, as you take in a breath that hurts just a little less. He was checking in on you. Would a man do that if he wasn’t interested? Was there hope that he may feel more for you? You try to calm your wandering thoughts, knowing it wouldn’t do you any good to imagine things that he hadn’t explicitly stated. 

Unfortunately 😔 I'm sorry but I don't think we can make that third date this weekend. Rain check? I hope work was good today. 

Ding. 

Work was fine. Yes, we can certainly hold off until you feel better. 

Before you can reply he sends another message. 

Do you need anything? I wouldn't want you to struggle while you're sick. 

Butterflies flutter amongst the blooms in your chest. You did want to see him, but Shoko’s words come back to you, about how spending time with him without any promise of returning your feelings could worsen things even more. Additionally, the state you were in made you want to immediately decline the offer. You didn’t want him to see you like this, pale, hacking up bloody mucus flowers, pining for him like a lovesick dog. You grip your phone wondering how to reply, then carefully word your text.

I think I’m ok. Besides you don’t want to see me sick. Not a pretty picture.

Ding.

I’m sure I’ve seen worse. But I promise not to run away screaming. 😄  What do you say? 

Despite it all you laugh, noting with wonder how you didn’t feel as bad as you did a minute ago. 

Ok, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. 💀

Ding.

Noted! I’m bringing soup! See you in 30. 

30?! You scramble up suddenly, then hang over the edge of the bed as more flower bits force their way up your throat, falling into the grotesque potpourri pooling into the cooking pot. With as much speed as your exhausted body offers, you dump the flower vomit into the toilet, quickly rinse the pot in the kitchen, and throw together an outfit appropriate for company. You add a little blush to your cheeks and some lipstick to remedy the pale sickly quality that your skin has become. 

You’re jittery when the doorbell rings. Taking a deep breath, you open the door, revealing Higuruma, looking so casual in jeans and a tee rather than the suit he wore to work. He was carrying a bag and there’s a slight twitch to his lips as he looks at you. 

“I’m disappointed,” he says good-naturedly, stepping inside. “Where’s the horrifying red nose and dripping snot? The messy hair and phlegm-covered tissues? At least tell me you have those droopy eye bags?”

“They’re hidden with concealer,” you admit, biting your lip to avoid smiling goofily at his presence. You feel a strange sensation in your body, almost like the parasitic flowers were retracting to allow their host to breathe a little before resuming their consumption of your flesh. 

“Concealer! The ultimate trick. Do you think I should wear some? Look at these.” He points to the just visible bags under his eyes and you give up, laughing heartily, the growing blooms inside you only slightly painful. 

Higuruma grins at you. “Well, they do say laughter is the best medicine. However, soup, as promised,” he says, brandishing the bag, “And decongestants, and a little dark chocolate. Because it’s the best.”

You take the bag from him trying not to blush. “Thank you, Hiromi. You didn’t have to come over. I appreciate it so much.” 

“Aw, it’s no trouble. Besides you don’t let people you like suffer. Well not alone anyway.”

Your heart constricts in your chest as he says he likes you but you try to play it cool, leaves and petals stirring in your heart and lungs. “Oh? Wasn’t aware you liked me.” You try to sound nonchalant as you say it, but secretly hope he’ll say a little more, something more concrete which would imply there’s something stronger between you two. Something that might take away this dreadful thing growing inside you…

“Really?” He widens his eyes playfully and covers his mouth pretending to be shocked. “Oh no! All my efforts have gone in vain!” He drawls dramatically. “What good is bringing someone soup if they’re unaware you like them?”

You place the bag on the kitchen counter and cover your mouth as an unruly snort of laughter leaves you, which you use to hide the twinge of disappointment you feel. Well, at least he didn’t deny that he likes you. That was a start, and it could progress from there, in a best-case scenario. 

Your chest contracts suddenly and you quickly grab a napkin and stand at the kitchen sink, coughing up more foliage, trying to be discreet, attempting to soften your coughing as the fragmented sunflowers fall out of your mouth. Higuruma walks into the kitchen at the noise and you hide the napkin in your hands, wiping your mouth. 

Unlike before his face is lined with concern, and he waits for you to turn around. You try to smile reassuringly, your lipstick smudging from wiping your mouth.

“You don’t have to hide being sick in front of me you know,” he says softly. “We’re both adults. What’s life without a little mucus?” 

You throw away the napkin and shake your head. “We only just started seeing each other. Helping someone when they’re sick is more of a sixth date thing.”

Higuruma contemplates your words, leaning his hip against the counter. “Well, we’ve worked at the same place for a year. So that plus two dates…I think it comes close. Your lipstick is smudged by the way,” he adds, tapping his upper lip to indicate where you should clean it. 

You wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, like you’re still pretty even when you’re hacking up blood, literally dying from how much you love him. You hastily swipe a finger over the color, and when he doesn’t comment further, you assume it’s gone. 

“Well…thanks.” You take out a bowl to pour some soup. “Do you also want some?” you offer him.

He shakes his head no. “Here let me.”

His large hand takes the bowl from you while the other picks up the takeout container and he deftly pours steaming chicken noodle soup into it. “I can bring it outside for you. C'mon, sick person’s privilege.”

It was odd being ordered around in your kitchen, even if it was in this endearing manner. You shake your head. “You and your chivalry code.”

“I thought women loved it when men waited on them like this! Maybe I should double-check Reddit.”

How did he manage to do this to you? Your stomach is doing flips and it feels like for a brief second, the Hanahaki has frozen, allowing you a moment of clarity. Being near him was like not knowing your head was underwater until you took in that first gasp of air and felt it expand in your lungs, life flowing back into your veins. 

You settle on the couch and accept the bowl from him. He sits down on the opposite end, crossing a leg over his knee, and turns to look at you. 

“I think the remote’s on your end. Feel free to put on anything.”

“Anything? What a treat. I had come fully prepared with a list of rom-coms but I’m glad I can put on anything.”

You roll your eyes as you swallow the hot soup, savoring how it slides down your throat. “Rom coms? Why?”

“Isn’t that the default for when you’re sick?”

“Is that the default when you’re sick?” You probe him teasingly, noting how you don’t feel the irritating brush of the flowers as much as before. It almost felt easier to breathe with him around. 

Sheepish, Higuruma grins at you and rakes a hand through his hair. “It might be. It’s too early to reveal my secrets.”

“Oh? And when would it be appropriate?”

“After a third date.”

You glance at him, spoon halfway to your lips. He hastily adds, “After you’re feeling better of course!”

You busy yourself with the bowl to hide the blush that was threatening to make itself visible and swallow zealously. As mentioned, he puts on a rom-com and you finish the soup, feeling warm and cozy. You’re wrapped in a blanket and Higuruma has remained politely at the opposite end but as he sees your eyes beginning to droop he offers his shoulder.

“No, it’s ok…I’m fine here…” You mumble, trying to focus on the movie but the Hanahaki is beginning to take a toll on your body. 

“It’s all right y/n. I guarantee I’m comfier than a couch cushion.” Seeing your hesitation he chuckles. “I promise to behave. Just…c’mere. I wasn’t joking when I said people shouldn’t suffer alone.” 

He scoots over to the middle and helps you tip over slightly, placing an arm around you as the side of your cheek rests on his shoulder. The effect was instantly soporific. You couldn’t believe it. He was here…and yet so far away. You struggle to remind yourself that nothing was solid, that this was all still in the beginning stages, and that plenty could go wrong.

But the yearning is stronger and you let yourself indulge for a brief moment before your brain switches from consciousness to sleep. Hiromi, warm, gentle, sweet Hiromi, here, next to you, on your sofa in your living room. Letting you use him as a pillow. It was like plucking a private daydream from your brain and shaping it into reality.

If you could disperse the little moments like this…could you possibly slow down the Hanahaki enough that you could date him a little longer until it was appropriate to tell him you loved him? And perhaps when you did…he would say it back? 

 You smelled that familiar scent of wood and spice, memories of the kiss lulling you to sleep. His hand rubs the side of your blanket-covered arm, steady and comforting.

“You smell nice,” you mutter almost imperceptibly but he hears it and his heart skips a beat. 

“I’m glad you think so.”

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

Monitors beep and there’s an IV in your arm. Shoko peers anxiously into your face as you come back to reality. Things had taken a turn for the worse. You had been floating in and out of consciousness for the past few days. 

“I need to know everything that happened. I’m sorry, I know you don’t feel like talking.” Shoko helps you sit upright in the hospital bed and hands you a glass of water which you sip weakly. “But I need to figure out when I should start the special interventions you mentioned. I have all the labs. But I need to know where you are emotionally if I have to make a call about surgical intervention next.”

You take a few breaths of oxygen from the mask in your hand before steadying yourself to speak. Every inch of you hurt. Your body prickled as you tried to suck in a breath, your mouth dry and your words raspy. Living was simply draining right now. 

“Four days ago, Hiromi visited me at home. He wasn’t aware of how sick I was. And I didn’t tell him.”

Shoko’s eyes narrow. “Why?”

You shake your head wearily. “It just didn’t feel right. He put me to sleep. When I woke up, I was laid out on the couch and Hiromi was gone. I felt a lot better and got myself to bed. Then the next day, I was in pain. So much pain. It felt like one of my lungs had burst. Like a million thorns were scratching the inside of my heart and throat. That’s when I called you.”

Shoko paces back and forth as she ponders on what the next best step would be, looking exasperated. “Y/n. I told you that being with him in this unrequited manner will only cause the Hanahaki to spread faster. You should have said no to him coming over. The closeness and then his absence, plus the lack of admission of any romantic feelings made it grow alarmingly. Your heart and lungs are almost purely plant now.”

You lay back against the pillows, taking the most shallow breaths possible to alleviate any further discomfort. “How long? Before…?”

Shoko sighs deeply. “I will have to do the surgery tomorrow.”

You had known deep down that she wouldn’t have any better news. Tears fill your eyes as you stare at the ceiling, dripping down your cheeks and onto the pillow. Your voice quivers are you talk. 

“Wow…I really thought…I had more time than that. I thought…we’d go on a third date. Maybe a fourth. And by the fifth or sixth, enough time would have passed that it wouldn’t be weird if I said it.” You press your hands over your eyes and a sob passes from your lips. “I really wanted it to be him Shoko. My end game. I guess…it wasn’t meant to be huh?” 

Shoko pats your arm sympathetically. “It’s not that you won’t ever fall in love again. It just won’t be with him.”

“Ah, but that’s the thing Shoko. Would anything else feel the way this feels?” You let yourself think back on every little interaction you ever had with Higuruma. Every tiny second where the two of you had been in the same room, or just passed by each other at work. The way his eyes danced as he laughed, little crow’s feet forming at the corners. And the fact that you’ll never find out if rom-coms were his go-to when he was sick. It was so bittersweet, to be so close yet so far to the addictive idea of almost knowing what it would be like to be loved by him, yet too late to escape the effects of the Hanahaki. 

“Can you find him for me Shoko? I just…need to see him one last time. Before…you know.”

Shoko’s eyes are contemplative, but she nods. “Let me see if he’s on campus.”

“And Shoko?”

She already knows what you’re about to say but listens anyway.

“Please don’t tell him anything. The last thing I need is him pitying me.”

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

Higuruma checks his phone and can’t hide his disappointment when he sees you haven’t replied to his last few texts. He’d been careful not to wake you when he laid you down on the sofa and quietly crept out that night. He’d been sure to text you to let you know you hadn’t been abandoned, but that he didn’t want to encroach on your boundaries and was looking forward to seeing you again. That was 4 days ago. Had he made things awkward without realizing it? Had you ghosted him?

He told himself it couldn’t possibly be a simple case of ghosting because you hadn’t been coming into work either. He was positive he hadn’t misread the signs. You were comfortable and relaxed around him. There was no reason for you to avoid him. Had your illness worsened? The ideas turn over and over in his head as he wanders the halls of the vast Jujustu High campus, then comes out of his reverie as someone calls his name.

“Oh! Shoko, hi.” He greets the brunette as she approaches him. Her expression looks tight as she nears, and she seems unsure of what to say. 

Shoko knows she’s obligated to hold her silence, but in this case, she can’t bring herself to do it. “Can we find a place to sit down? There’s a lot that needs to be said and I’m not sure there’s a lot of time left.”

“Time left? For what? Is this about y/n?” Higuruma feels uneasy but allows Shoko to direct him toward a bench in the well-maintained courtyard. 

Shoko does her best to explain everything concisely; the origin of the Hanahaki, its unexpected acceleration, and how you would be heading into surgery tomorrow to get it removed. Higuruma listens quietly but it’s clear from his expressions and the way they turn to shock and horror as Shoko describes it that he’s feeling this on a personal level.

“Unrequited love eh?” He runs a hand over the back of his neck and takes a deep breath. “Who would’ve thought?” Higuruma mulls this over in his head. Was there someone else he wasn’t aware of? He shouldn’t be surprised. You were so beautiful after all, and with your Jujutsu talents, courage, and principles, it wasn’t that much of a shock. It couldn’t be him…he was new to everything, needing help, always feeling like he was one step short. He looks to Shoko, needing confirmation. “And do we know who the mystery man is?” 

Shoko looks at him pointedly and he frowns for a second thinking. “What? Is it someone I know? Am I supposed to pass on a message?”

Shoko impatiently tapped her foot against the ground, biting her inner cheek, her expression almost becoming a glare as she prayed he’d have the epiphany soon. 

A lick of irritation passes through him. “Shoko, trust me when I say I want her to live. I'm dating her right now, but if there’s someone else that she needs to be well, I’m not selfish enough to stand in the way of that.” His heart clenches at the thought but if it was a matter of life and death, he couldn’t deny you that. 

To him, you were the moon, the lovely, elegant, marker in his sky, and he was the ocean, hopelessly drawn by your gravity, yet never getting close enough to grasp you and make you his own, waves crashing down into salt and foam after each failed attempt. 

Feeling like she might burst, Shoko begrudgingly gives him another clue. “There’s no other man.”

“There isn’t? Then…” He’s silent as the meaning of her words suddenly dawns on him, making him blush. The realization is stunning. “You’re kidding.” 

“I wish I was. But it’s always been you. Now let me make this very clear. If you do not have any feelings for her that are equal to romantic love, then there’s nothing else that can be done. I’ll take her to surgery and remove all of it. She deserves to live.”

He falls silent as her words wash over him. “And that…would take away everything right?”

“It will. She’ll forget everything. All those times she felt her heartbeat quicken when she saw you. The dates you had. You bringing her soup. She’ll forget and her feelings will become purely platonic.” She looks at him appraisingly and waits for an answer. 

“I…” The words catch in his throat and he feels an unbearable guilt wash over him. He was responsible for putting you in this state. It was his fault you were now hovering between life and death. He presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose and takes a calming breath. Nothing about him was steady at the moment. He was a knot of nerves, worried for your safety. 

“I do love her,” he admits. “For the longest time. It’s just…you can’t blurt out things like that. Scares people off.”

“So I’ve heard,” Shoko says, trying not to sound sarcastic. “But you were dating her. That must mean that you have feelings for her.”

“Who says ‘I love you’ to someone after 2 dates?”

Shoko’s eye twitches menacingly and Higuruma leans away, looking slightly apprehensive at the expression. “What is it?”

“Nothing just that you two…are very similar.” She sighs, massaging her temples. 

“So, what do I have to do now?” Higuruma looks at her helplessly. “I don’t want to be the reason she’s suffering. If I tell her I love her, that’s it? The Hanahaki fades? Because I’ll do it. I’ll tell her over and over. Anything to make it right.”

“That would certainly help but the state that she’s in…verbally making your feelings known would still require her to remain in the hospital for a few weeks.” 

“What else can I do?” Higuruma looks at Shoko with sincerity. “Whatever she needs, I’ll do it.”

Shoko clears her throat wondering how to put forth the matter. “Well, while the verbal affirmations would ease her discomfort, physical love would definitely speed up her recovery.”

“So hugs? Kisses? I held her on the sofa while she slept. I can do that again, I’ll cuddle her until she feels better.”

Shoko lets out a sigh, wondering how much more explicit she would need to get. “We are very much short on time, so let me ask you this. What’s the usual culmination of romantic love?”

“What? The culmination of romantic love? It’s…it’s…OH.” His eyes widen as the realization washes over him, turning his face a brilliant shade of crimson. “Doesn’t that cross a line? We’ve only ever kissed, and it was only once.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind if it saves her life. Besides, I can’t imagine her denying it if it’s you.”

“Ah, thanks?” he says uncertainly, not sure if it’s a compliment. Still flustered, he rakes his hands through his hair, trying not to feel embarrassed. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve loved this. To make love to someone as gorgeous as you? It would’ve been a privilege. But the added complication of you being sick added a layer of uncertainty. But he knew he’d have to figure it out.

Feeling like she’s finally gotten through to him, Shoko smiles at him softly. “Just…let yourself love her naturally. It’ll fall into place. You’ll figure it out.” She pats his shoulder reassuringly. “Think you can take some time off? Stay at home with her?”

He nods, feeling his resolve strengthen. “Of course.”

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

The hands that carry you are warm, large, and gentle. Was this it? Were they taking you to surgery? Shoko had given you something strong for the pain. Had she found Hiromi? You couldn’t recollect talking to him. Maybe he was out while you were hospitalized. Well, so much for that…

It was all going to be over soon. Shoko would extract the Hanahaki from your body and the next time you saw Higuruma, you wouldn’t feel a thing. Life really was cruel. 

But something felt different. Instead of being moved to a cold surgical platform, you felt yourself being placed onto a soft bed, the familiar smell of fabric softener surrounding you. Were you home? Was the surgery already over? 

A presence lays down next to you, gently drawing you closer, and as you inhale, you recognize the fragrance of woody spice. Hiromi was here? How? Were you dreaming? That must be it. You were post-op and experiencing whatever pleasant sensation the anesthesia gave you until you woke up. 

You feel your face being caressed, your hair brushed away, being pressed tightly against his chest as his lips skim across your temple. 

“Y/n. I’m so sorry.” His voice sounds regretful. “I guess…I was an idiot. I was so unsure about how you felt, when in fact, it was quite obvious. And I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t want more. Because baby, the things I feel when you’re near me. They take my breath away. I thought the worst thing that could happen was that you would decide you didn’t want to see me anymore. I was wrong.” 

His embrace tightens, and he adjusts so that your head rests on the crook of his neck, your breath falling sweetly on his skin. “The worst thing is seeing you like this, knowing I put you in this state. Why has society made dating so hard? Why are we shamed for feeling things too soon? Or too late? I think it should be different depending on the people involved. Some people feel it early. Others feel it down the line. I guess I’m one of the former. I just know.”

He kisses your forehead, and when he speaks next, there’s a crack in his voice, raw emotion coming through. “I love you. Always have from the moment I first started as a sorcerer. You leave me in awe. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. I love you, y/n. I love you so much.”

You stir slightly, listening intently. Did he just…?

“You have to get better. Remember how on the first date, you told me that you’d love to visit Paris someday? We’ll go. Just us. After you’re well. I don’t care what society deems normal anymore. We’ll go on our third date. Because you deserve it. Because I love you.”

His words permeate your body, a curious sensation because it feels like they entered your bloodstream, and were being absorbed into your heart. The tightness of the root system embedded into your veins withdraws, and you feel your breath becoming less labored.

“Please wake up darling. You have to wake up.” 

He presses his lips against yours, full of tenderness and passion, and when he pulls away, he sees color coming into the previously pale and chapped lips. He kisses you again, and it’s bliss, his hands combing through your hair, stroking your back, and you take in a deep breath, the relief feeling ecstatic, your blood humming in your veins, almost purifyingly. Compelled to react, you move your lips gently, feel him still and pull away incredulously, and look down at your face.

“Y/n?” There’s so much relief on his face as he looks at you, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

‘Hey,” you manage to rasp, feeling that same purifying sensation, like the flowers in your body were contracting ever so slightly, making room for you to breathe. 

Higuruma lets out a soft laugh, then rests his forehead on yours. “Oh my…you’re awake. You’re going to make it darling, don’t worry.”

“Do you really love me?”

“I do. So much. I don’t know since when. I just knew I did.”

The fortifying effect of those words brings back strength into your body and you raise your arms, wrapping them around his neck. 

“Hiromi. You have no idea how happy I am that you’re here.”

“Oh I think I have you beat there darling,” he says weakly, nuzzling your neck. “I wasn’t sure when you’d wake up.”

He kisses you again, slow and gentle and your mouth opens to accept his tongue, reveling in the taste, feeling every inch of your body respond to his touch. His hands roam under the back of the thin T-shirt you’re wearing, anchoring themselves onto your shoulders, inhaling your scent as he tries to breathe through it all. He strings a line of soft kisses from your jaw down your neck, stopping to savor the way your pulse felt as it beat with vitality inside you, before coming down to your collarbone. A gasp leaves your lips, fingers tangling with his hair as he does so. 

The noise brings his attention back to you, unaware of the desire pooling into your veins where the flowers were starting to withdraw. Your cheeks had a healthy glow, a flush settling into them as he pulled you against him. 

“Are you ok with this?” He asks, his fingers tracing circles on the back of your neck, waiting for a response. 

“I am. More than ok. Just…don’t stop now. I need this.” You lean up and kiss him, electricity sparking between the both of you. “I need you.”

Hearing you needed him switches something on in him and he groans against the passion of your kiss before burying his face in your neck, nibbling the soft flesh, listening to the flow of breath running through you. His hands sneak up under the front of your shirt and rest against your breasts, letting the heat flow into them, feeling your nipples perk up against his palms before he squeezes, his mouth leaving wet kisses between the crook of your neck and shoulder. 

“Please…” you whisper into his ear, the word spoken with so much urgency that he almost loses control. He finds the hem of your shirt and pulls it off, taking in the sight of your lovely body, the pebbled nipples ripe for sampling. He pulls one into his mouth, causing a quiet moan to leave you, and begins to tease the other, rolling it between his thumb and index, listening to your cues as he increases the friction and pressure.

You feel like you're on a cloud, pleasure tingling into every crevice of your body, sighing, losing all other thoughts except for the man in your bed. “Hiromi,” you call his name in a breathy tone, cradling his head as he suckles, heat gathering between your legs. How long had it been since you were touched in this way? Held like you were precious, kissed like you were ambrosia?

Hiromi observes the way color comes back to your body as he teases you, watching with mild fascination as the pert nipple between his fingers changes color, life coming back into you. 

Your eyes close against the gentle ministrations of his tongue and fingers, the moans becoming whimpers as need takes over. When he finally lets go the need for more contact with his skin was overwhelming. You fist the fabric of his top and pull it off, and he allows it without any questions. Your eyes roam over the broad, tanned chest, the cloud of black hair on his chest leading into a thready trail that crawled lower like a lion’s mane, hidden by the waistband of his jeans. For a moment you stare, drinking in the sheer masculinity of it all, the hard planes and defined muscles, contrasting against the softness of your body. 

Almost shyly you run your fingers through the patch of hair before coming down to place a kiss between his collarbones, hear his breath strangle before continuing down, feeling all the muscles in his abdomen tense up as your lips follow the happy trail, delighting in the way he reacted when you nibbled around his bellybutton.

“Y/n you’re making me crazy.” he grits his teeth, struggling to keep a hold on his sanity. You had just recovered, he shouldn’t be rash or grab you but you were making it very hard to ignore the rush of want pouring into his bloodstream. It was so surprising how these acts of love, even briefly, had brought you back from the edge. 

He slides you back up, sees the vitality glittering in your eyes, and crushes his mouth to yours, letting his body speak for him as he runs a hand down your smooth skin, pausing to knead the soft squish of your belly, his hand slipping under the band of your shorts and underwear, bringing them down to reveal the curve of your ass which he grabs possessively, savoring the fat, pushing your lower body against his throbbing erection. He slowly grinds against you, paying attention to your body but you aren’t pulling away from him, rather, it appears to make you crave more, the way your hands fumble at his back, holding on to his shoulders and pressing your face into his chest.

Hiromi’s hands move to your front, repeating the action of pulling the waistbands down, exposing you to his hands. As he slides your clothing off, your legs part for him unashamedly, the throbbing in your sex unbearable, feeling your chest becoming free of the previous pressure that was suffocating it. Grasping your mound in his large palm, he feels for the edge of the swollen labia and massages, grasping the moistening flesh between his fingers and applying pressure, causing you to arch against his hand, the noises you make music to his ears. 

He gently parts the folds of your sex, seeing the slick from your arousal gathering at the entrance of your core, begging to be touched. He looks back up at you and you nod, the small sign of consent all he needed before he plunges his tongue into the most heat of your cunt. The knowledge of knowing he was here at such a sensitive spot on your body sends a thrill through him and he licks up, finding the base of your swollen clit, letting his tongue flick against it, satisfaction flowing through him as you hum your pleasure at the action. Laying his tongue flat, he slides up and down, unfazed when you move against him, trying to build a little more friction. 

He lets his middle finger circle the entrance of your pussy, teasing until you raise your hips slightly before sliding in, the digit feeling so wonderfully filling, curling upwards to find the little patch inside you that makes you take a sharp breath before becoming so wonderfully pliant and soft under him. He inserts his ring finger, and your sighs become a crescendo of gasps and moans, writhing under him, holding the pillow to remain grounded as the ache in your core becomes unbearably sweet, blossoming from the center and filling your body with a thrum of pleasure.

You sob as the orgasm hits, all the muscles in your body contracting before pleasurably spasming, your cries becoming shrill as it passes, feel Hiromi’s tongue slow down and continue to nudge against your clit, ensuring he squeezed out every drop of pleasure from you before pulling away from your core.

You’re a sight to see after that, body rosy and flushed, a fresh vigor visible all over, hair messy and splayed across the pillow. 

“Y/n…you’re so beautiful,” he rasps as he crawls back up to you, licking your juices off his fingers before covering your mouth with his. Shivering from the climax, you taste yourself on his tongue, gripping the back of his neck as though afraid he might slip between your fingers if you didn’t hold onto him hard enough. 

“Do you…ahem…” He suddenly turns shy but powers through. “Do you happen to have condoms? I kind of…forgot...you know with everything that happened.”

Your lips quirk and a peal of laughter leaves you, and he joins in, smiling, cupping your face tenderly in his hands. “Top drawer,” you answer him. “You went to the drugstore a couple of days ago and bought decongestants, but not condoms?” you tease him. 

“Who knew I’d be having sex a few days later?”

“We were dating! It was bound to happen.”

“Oh really? So that’s what happens when people are dating?” he teases you back and it’s your turn to blush, but he’s being sweet about it, brushing your noses together, and pressing feather-light kisses all over your face. He slides off the bed to finish undressing, and you watch him, fascination all over your face as his cock slips free, long and veiny, leaking precum, throbbing with hot need. He fumbles through your nightstand before finding the little wrapped packet, rolling down the condom before joining you back in bed, cuddling you close. 

“Ready?” 

You nod, a look passing between you both, before he positions himself and starts entering, the push of his tip feeling exquisite, going inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to him, feeling your fingernails scratch his forearms as he starts to bottom out. He holds still, your eyes meeting, your mouth slightly open as your pussy involuntarily spasms around him, feeling wonderfully stretched out. 

He starts moving, hips rolling deliciously to set up a rhythm, leaning forward to kiss you as he does so, arching his back to ensure your G-spot wasn’t missed with each stroke. It was so artful the way he made love to you, your body so responsive to everything, and he gathered you in his arms, both of you looking into each other’s eyes. 

“I love you.” He buries his face into the crook of your neck and you lock your ankles around his waist, mewling as he thrusts into you. 

“I love you too,” you mumble, mind in a haze, feeling nothing but pleasure flowing through you. Your breathing has changed, no longer ragged and shallow but to a full-bodied draw of air, so refreshing as you both touch and caress each other.

Your body starts the familiar sensation of tension gathering in your belly, coiling, waiting for release. Misty-eyed, you look at him, knowing he’s been watching your face all this while, looking for cues. 

“I’m close…” you whisper, touching his cheek, tracing the outline of his lips as you move with him. 

“Let go for me…I’ve got you…” With a cry, your second orgasm grips you, more powerful than the first, and you barely manage to keep your legs locked around him. 

“Hiromi…Hiromi…” his name falls from your lips, and his movements become a little sloppy, feeling his own orgasm nearing, and not too soon, he falls off the edge, cock twitching inside you, as he rides out the wave of pleasure. 

It was the best sleep of your life afterward, wrapped up in Higuruma’s warm and secure embrace, cheek resting on his chest, and listening to each other’s heartbeats as you both dreamt.

When you wake up, it’s the middle of the night and Higuruma is awake, peering at you through the darkness.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispers, petting your hair. 

“I can’t, I have the distracting problem of having a handsome man in my bed.”

“Hmm…And this is a problem, how?”

“I want to keep looking at him. Makes for bad sleep.”

A deep chuckle leaves his throat as you cuddle against him. 

“So out of curiosity, if I wasn’t conscious by the time you started up, what would you have done?” You lean up to look at him, legs tangling under the covers.

“Oh, Shoko reassured me that kissing you would bring you around.”

“Yeah, but what if it hadn’t?” you press, curiosity building.

Higuruma makes a funny expression, like he’s weighing whether or not to divulge something to you. 

“What is it? C’mon, tell me!” You lightly slap his chest and he sighs, defeated.

“Well, Shoko gave me a letter of medical necessity.”

Your face turns blank. “She…what?”

Higuruma takes his phone and pulls up an official-looking email with an attachment. Trying not to laugh, he reads out, “I, Dr. Shoko Ieieri, hereby state, that in the event that F/n L/n is only partially conscious, or fully unconscious,  the giver of medical services, Mr. Hiromi Higuruma, has my complete medical consent to make physical love to the patient to ensure her life does not fall into jeopardy. This medical order shall remain in effect until F/n Y/n becomes fully conscious and capable of making her own decisions. See she signed it and everything.”

He tilts the phone screen so that you can see, and you cover your mouth as you try to stifle your laughter. “I can’t believe Shoko!”

“I’m sure she wrote it as a joke,” Higuruma says amusedly. “She was very confident that kissing would wake you up sufficiently.”

“Ugh, I can’t believe my doctor wrote a note advocating for sex to save my life.” You bury your face into his chest and the both of you laugh uncontrollably. 

“So is it a safe bet to assume we’re having another date?” he teases, pressing a kiss to your neck. 

“I’ll have to think about it. I’m joking!” you add hastily, seeing his expression grow stony. He sighs, dramatically shaking his head.

“Guess I better get used to this. Looks like it’s going to be part of my life for a long long time.”

He kisses you again before you can retort. You smile up at him, knowing he is yours. 

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[yunablogs]

Fontaine Women x Reader, Headcannons/drabbles?

Contents : Lynette, Navia, Clorinde, Focalors || Cuddling, Court Trials, Established Relationship, All women are separate

TW : Murder

Word Count : a little under 700 in total, abt 100-200 each Extra : Not Proof Read, First time writing for a few of these characters| --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lynette

- Lynette is a hard working individual, she often will come home extremely tired after doing a show with her brother and having to be the main one in the act besides her brother who was the star of the show, she just had to be the prop and do dangerous things

- When she comes home, and you’re sitting on your living room sofa, she quickly flops down on top of you and rests her head on your chest, purring softly like a small little kitten, she feels comfortable and slowly recharging in your presence and laying on your chest

- Once she wakes up she gets immediately flustered once she notices she's been laying on your chest and purring, she sits up and apologizes, but instead you pull her down back to your chest and she accepts it while you pet her head, and she goes back to sleep

- Whenever Lynette notices you're at one of her and her brothers shows, she immediately gets 10x happier and feels the obligation to work 10x harder than she normally would.

Navia

- Navia is the type of girlfriend to instead of laying on your chest, have you lay on hers, even if she had a bad day that's what she prefers, just having your head on her chest while you both hold each other.

- She's the type to every time you have a date, bring you flowers or chocolate. Even if you're going to a place where it's not appropriate to give those, she still does anyway.

- If you ever get insecure about your body, she will spend hours kissing over your body where your comfortable at LEAST 5 times, its normally around 10 times that she will.

- Navia likes coming up behind you and holding you by the waist and placing her head on your shoulder and just relaxing her eyes, sometimes she’ll sneak up on you by flying down by her umbrella and then doing it.

Clorinde

- Clorinde despite Navia and Lynette is not mainly the cuddly type, she’ll put her hand around you every once in a while, but never in public. In fact, she acts like she almost doesn't know you in public. But you’ve shouted to the whole world that you’re dating the great Clorinde, so everyone knows.

- Despite not being the cuddly type, Clorinde still at least a bit romantic, she kisses you a few times every morning and 2 more times before you or her leave for daily duties. Its whoever leaves earlier really.

- She will bring you home small things everyday, wether it be a small box of chocolates, or a rose or two, she still always finds a way to gift you

- When a day has been rough, she kinda (surprisingly) really just wants to lay her head on your lap and look up and you, wondering ‘how did they romance me..’

Focalors

- You’re watching one of the court trials Focalors is in with Neuvillette, She's winking at you occasionally before it starts. Once the court trial does start, you hear the claims of the accused. “Do you plead guilty, or not guilty, to murdering your wife in your shared home?” and Focalors immediately perks up, she is excited for a possible execution to happen.

- Once the court trial is done, she packs up a few things she brought with her and leaves through a few doors to come see you, as she immediately jumps on your back (or if you're shorter than her, she comes up and hugs you really tightly.) as you almost fall over from the sudden actions she preformed.

- A few minutes later she drags you home to talk about the court trial details and to sum them up, this was really the only trial she wasn't bored at so she knew the details. You were just happy to hear her talk, afterall. It is your girlfriend.

- She likes laying literally anywhere on you and talking about something random, you want her to lay on your chest? Done in two seconds. You want her to lay on your lap? gladly.

Thank you so much for reading this far!! and tysm for all the likes and follows ive been getting, i truly thank you all for it