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giggly-squiggily · 1 year ago

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Returning The Favor (Blue Lock)

Hi hello welcome to Squiggily's Self Indulgent Time- in which I had a severe craving for Kunigiri and decided to write it. These two make me so freaking soft and I just- words can't form for how much I love them, you know? I hope you like it! :D

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

CW: Swearing, {Part 3: medical-based nightmares, panic and anxiety attacks}, mild angst

@cupcake-spice13, @myreygn

Summary: 4 times Kunigami tickled Chigiri and the one time he managed to return the favor.

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1.)

Lights flicked on overhead like a window being drawn open- a chorus of tired groans and curses followed soon after. Kunigami yawned as he sat up-running a hand through his orange bed head as he watched Team Z around him begin to wake.

It was always so interesting to him watching people wake up. You had your early risers who were up well before the lights- Kuon was gently rousing a wrinkle faced Naruhaya awake with the promise of breakfast while Isagi stood, stretching his arms out and making his back pop in a series of satisfying cracks.

Then you had those who hated mornings with a passion. Raichi was cursing up a storm, face pressed in his pillow as he struggled to wake up. Gagamaru looked positively dead, a curtain of hair blocking his violent expression as he scratched at his buttcheek.

Then there were the ones who needed help waking up. A LOT of it.

“Oi, Princess; rise and shine.” Kunigami turned to the mound of blankets beside him, red hair poking out the top like his sister’s Troll dolls. For someone so graceful when he was awake, sleeping Chigiri was a disaster. Soft snores could be heard beneath the sheets, the mound raising and falling slowly with each breath he took. It was almost hilarious how heavy Chigiri slept; the world could be ending and he’d simply turn over and keep snoring. Sometimes the guys joke about him “Only waking up after true love’s kiss”.

While Kunigami rather liked that idea, he had an even better plan of attack.

“Princess…” Kunigami crawled over, gently prying the blanket off his boyfriend.The other made a noise of quiet scorn, frowning in his sleep as he curled up further against the morning chill. “It’s time for breakfast. Hurry before there’s nothing left.”

In response, Chigiri turned over, snuggling on his back with a sleepy sigh. The ginger shook his head, unable to fight down a smile.

“Alright- you asked for it.” He grinned, eyes landing on the sliver of skin between Chigiri’s sweats. He shimmied beneath the futon.

A second or two passed. Then-

PFFFFT!

“GAH!” Chigiri let out a shocked squeal, flailing beneath the blankets at the sudden raspberry being blown against his bare skin. Immediately after he was laughing hysterically, swatting and slapping at Kunigami’s back as he struggled to escape. “STAHHAHAP! SHTHAHHAHP! I’M UP! GHEHAHAHA I’M UHUUHHUP!”

“Are you sure?” Kunigami asked against his hip, grinning when the blankets got yanked off, allowing him to see the redhead’s hot glare. “Good morning, Chi. Sleep well?”

“I was- but then a big ugly ogre showed up in my dream and tried to eat me!” Chigiri tugged at Kunigami’s sweatshirt, unsuccessful in pulling him off. “He was tall with big muscles and orange fur and smelled bad.”

“Oh, that is IT!” Kunigami mock gasped before going right back to his tickles, making the redhead squeal and fall over. “Screw the cafeteria, I’m having raspberries for breakfast!”

“AHEHAHAHHA KUNIHIHIIHIHIHIHIHI!”

~~~

2.)

“How’s your knee?” Kunigami asked, brows furrowing when Chigiri made a soft noise, rubbing at the joint. They’d been running all morning- something about “90 minute endurance” that left a lot of the guys exhausted. Chigiri naturally outpaced them all- his speed was amazing even when he wasn’t going all out.

“It’s fine..just a little sore.” Chigiri tried to smile, but he looked so tired it came off as a grimace. “I’ll do my leg care in a bit. I doubt I could make it back to the locker rooms right now even if I tried.”

“Hm.” Kunigami kept looking at him, amber eyes flicking from his expression to his knee to the main rooms. Then he stood up suddenly, squatting before the redhead.

“What are you-Whoa!” Chigiri yelped when arms tucked under his legs and back, sweeping him off his feet. “K-Kunigami, put me down!” He grabbed on to him like a startled cat, cheeks getting warm when he heard a few of the guys whistle and croon at them. “I can walk back myself!”

“Sorry- can’t let you do that.” Kunigami told him simply, ignoring the others as he began to walk back to the main rooms. “Besides, what happens if you hurt yourself on the way in?”

“I’m not a porcelain doll! I won’t break. Chigiri snapped, pissed.

“Didn’t mean it like that.” Kunigami winced, expression falling. “Sorry.”

Chigiri grew quiet as they passed the sliding doors, the sound of the AC above them the only noise. Then: “No, I’m sorry. I’m not…used to getting help.” Chigiri’s expression softened to one of remorse as he squeezed Kunigami’s shoulder. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Hey, that’s what heroes do.” The ginger smiled as he leaned in, kissing Chigiri’s cheek. “I don’t like how down you look. Come on- smile for me.”

“Screw you- I don’t smile when people tell me to.” Chigiri rolled his eyes, flattening his mouth. No success- the corners of his lips were twitching.

“Not even for your knight in shining armor?” Kunigami teased, the hand under Chigiri’s knee curled, fingers wiggling beneath it. “After I’ve saved you from that dastardly ogre this morning?”

“Ehehhehehehe! Nohooho, dohoohn’t you dahhah-HERO!” Chigiri squeaked, nearly falling out of Kunigami’s arms when he felt his balance shift. “Don’t I’ll fall!”

“I’ll never let that happen.” Kunigami reassured him, effortlessly readjusting his grip. “I’ll catch you always.”

“Wow, I’m swooning.” Chigiri deadpanned, even as his cheeks warmed and he snuggled closer, resting his head against the crook of Kunigami’s neck. “Get the smelling salts, I just might faint.”

“I’ll go get Gagamaru’s gym socks.” Kunigami offered, laughing when Chigiri pinched him, disgusted.

~~~

3.)

“Hey, look at me.” Kunigami’s voice was soft and hushed, as if Chigiri would shatter at anything louder. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

Chigiri would have snarked something in reply had he been able to breathe. The nightmare still played through his head over and over- a tall grotesque figure with a massive circular saw looming over him, going to cut off his leg. He could still hear the sound of that terrible machine in his ears, the gleam of it as it got closer and closer until-

“Hyoma.” The sound of his name snapped him back to reality, and he looked up with panicked eyes at Kunigami. “We’re gonna breathe together, okay? Follow my lead. Ready?” Kunigami set a pace- slow and deep. Chigiri struggled to keep up, his breathing shaky and hitching with each inhale. His vision was so blurry- was he crying or sweating? Was he even awake or was this dream Kunigami putting him under before the big chop?

“That’s it…nice and slow…” Kunigami’s hands found his. They were so warm, hot almost in Chigiri’s clammy ones. They felt so real and thick and human. Calloused and rough yet so incredibly gentle. “There we go. Just like that.”

His lungs weren’t on fire anymore. The tightness in his throat was starting to loosen. When he breathed in again, it wasn’t so hard. “H-hero?” He stammered out, barely over a whisper.

“I’ve gotcha, Princess.” There it was- the one thing that reminded him where he was. No longer in a doctor’s office wheeling to surgery- no longer in the warped hospital of his nightmare. He was in Blue Lock, the aluminum floors cold against his bare feet, the wall against his back prodding into his spine uncomfortably. He didn’t care- discomfort was reality to him. His hands weren’t trembling anymore. “There we are. Just like that.”

He didn’t know how much time passed. He honestly couldn’t remember leaving the main room. He probably fell asleep out here- or maybe he woke everyone up. It didn’t matter- Kunigami was beside him now, an arm sliding across his back and pressing him into a broad chest. He could hear Kunigami’s heartbeat racing. “I scared you..”

“No, I’m not scared.” He reassured him, the hand on his back sliding up and under his sweatshirt, pressing into bare skin. The touch was incredibly comforting. “Just worried.”

“Sorry…” Chigiri mumbled, blinking as tears slid down his cheeks. He didn’t know if they were fresh or lingering.

“Don’t.” Kunigami sounded so gentle yet firm. The hand on his back ran across his spine, fingers curling as they dragged along his skin. Any other spot Chigiri probably would have squirmed away, too ticklish for his own good. Maybe he was too drained to react, but he rather liked the feeling. “Rest. I got you.”

Chigiri hummed, closing his eyes, the feeling of Kunigami’s nails scratching his skin combined with the sound of his heartbeat was like a lullaby to him. “Thanks…Rensuke.”

If Kunigami replied, he didn’t hear it. He was already asleep.

~~~

4.)

“Say it.” Kunigami was staring at him- a new intensity in his expression. “I wanna hear it.”

“Hmm….no.” Chigiri decided, fighting down the urge to smile as he carried on blow drying his hair. “I don’t like being told what to do.”

Kunigami puffed, the frown he was trying to force on his face coming off more like a pout. The effect was rather adorable- Chigiri almost gave in just for that face alone.

This was more fun, he decided.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Chi!” Kunigami scooted closer when the appliance turned off, Chigiri putting it aside as he gathered up his hair tie. "My kryptonite- the one who takes down superman!”

“I thought you liked All Might.” Chigiri hummed as he began braiding the side of his head, working the soft strands down slowly. “Does that mean I’m whatever his name is? The dry bones looking guy?”

“Oh no- you’re far too pretty to be Shigaraki.” Kunigami’s fingers came over his, taking over the task. Chigiri almost swatted him away but decided against it, letting his hands fall to his lap with a small sigh of content. “Though if I had to compare you two in personality…”

Chigiri tch’d, reaching back and pinching Kunigami’s thigh. The ginger yelped, spasming some and accidentally tugging the redhead’s hair. Chigiri hissed in pain, his glare softening to a grumpy cat look after the hero pressed a soft kiss against his crown in apology. “I’m still not saying it.”

“What? After this beautiful job I did with your hair?” Kunigami finished the braid, tying it off and tucking it away. “What’s left of it anyway.”

Chigiri snorted, his hand running over the plait. “I’ll be thinking of it all day- really; my head still hurts.”

“Sorry- though you’re the one who decided to tickle me while I’m holding your hair.” Kunigami pointed out, a small grin pulling at his lips at the word. “You know, now that I think about it…”

“Kunigami.” Chigiri knew that voice all too well. He went to run, but hands were already at his sides, pulling him back into a broad chest. “Don’t you dahahhahre!”

“Say it and I’ll stop.” Kunigami teased, fingers pressing into his ribs like a piano, bringing out a wide range of giggles and snorts from the redhead. “Give in, Princess~”

“Noohoohohooho wahahahahhay! I’m noohohohohohot sahhhahaying shiiihiihihihihihit!” Chigiri declared, even as he sank further, grabbing at the ginger’s wrists. “Kuhuuhuhuuhnigahahhhami, plehahahahhahse!”

“Please what?”

“Yohhoohoohu know whahahahhat!”

“Do I? What am I doing?”

“Tihiiihihihickling mehehhe-No whahahhhahahhait! Whahaaihiihiihihihit!” Chigiri squealed when a hand slid to his belly, clawing at the center while the other carried on prodding his ribs. “Nohooohoho doohoohohohohon’t!”

“Which is it? First you’re asking me to wait, and then you’re asking me to please keep tickling you!” Kunigami mock argued, giving Chigiri’s knees a friendly squeeze and earning a whole array of cackling laughter. “Such a demanding princess- make up your mind!”

“AHEHAHHAHAHA!” Chigiri squeaked out a whine, face hidden in his hands as he tried to curl up and away. His ears were as red as his hair, cheeks hurting from how much he was smiling. “KUUUHUHUHUHUNIGAHAHHAAMIHIHIHIHI!”

“You know what I want to hear.” Kunigami smirked.

“FIHIHIHIHNE, FIHIIHIHNE! AHEHAHHAHAHA- RENSUHUHUUHKE!” He cried, gasping for breath when the tickling finally came to an end. Kunigami looked pleased, his face warmed and lightly flushed. “Ahehehe…hehhehehe….hahahappy now?”

“With you? Always.” Kunigami grinned, deeping Chigiri’s own blush significantly. “Hey.” He reached out, brushing his hair out of his face gently. “I love you, Hyoma.”

“Ugh, you’re tehherible!” Chigiri covered his face, suddenly shy. Eventually, he moved his hands, sitting up some so he could properly face the other. “I love you too…Rensuke.”

Kunigami’s heart swelled three times its size.

~~~

5.)

“Ugh, my back…” Kunigami groaned as he stretched, wincing when the muscles along his spine screamed at him. “I’m too young to have these problems- what the hell?”

“Pfft- old man.” Chigiri teased, squeaking when Kunigami’s sweatshirt hit him dead on. “Ew, hero sweat.”

“Drink it, it’ll give you superpowers.” The ginger grinned, cackling when Chigiri practically flung the garment away, grimacing. “What, don’t wanna be my Mrs. Incredible?”

“Watch yourself.” Chigiri rolled his eyes, his teasing smirk dropping some when Kunigami flinched. “You okay?”

“Yeah- my lower back is just being loud.” Kunigami sighed, rubbing it with one hand. He knew he shouldn’t have overdone it working out- he could feel the beginnings of strain settling in halfway through his routine. Reo even told him to rest, but he was so confident he could handle it.

“Lay down on your stomach.” Chigiri ordered, earning a raised brow.

“Huh?”

“Lay down on your stomach.” He said again, gesturing to the single bed. “I’ll give you a massage.”

Kunigami’s brows raised, a twinge of both eagerness and reluctance swirling in his chest. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” Chigiri shrugged, flapping his hand at the bed impatiently. “You’ve always helped me out when I needed it- I want to do the same for you.”

Kunigami looked at the bed and back at the redhead. Then he laughed, reaching out and pulling Chigiri in his arms, squeezing him gently. “You always help me too. Thanks, Chi. I appreciate it.”

“I haven’t done anything yet.” Chigiri mumbled against his chest, his arms coming around to hug him back. “Now-get in the bed before I change my mind.”

“Pfft- alright, I’m going. So demanding…” Kunigami laughed, doing just so. He heard Chigiri shuffle behind him as he got comfortable, the weight of his boyfriend soon following as he straddled his legs. “Ever massaged someone before?”

“Nope- but I’ve watched enough youtube videos on it- surely I can figure it out.” He cracked his knuckles, flushing some at the raised eyebrow Kunigami gave him over his shoulder. “Shush.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your eyebrow is as loud as your back.”

“Were they shirtless guys?”

“Ugh, nevermind. Suffer.” Chigiri huffed, starting to get off. Kunigami laughed, reaching out and catching his hand, making him pause.

“Wait, wahahait- okay for real. I’ll be quiet.” He promised, kissing Chigiri’s knuckles.

The redhead rolled his eyes, face still flushed. Then he sat back against Kunigami’s thighs, tapping his hands against his back. “Let me know if I’m hurting you.” Then the hands tapping began to knead, pushing deep and slow.

At first it hurt like absolute hell. Then the relief followed, spreading with the pain across the nerve endings of his back and making the ginger groan.

“Feels good?” Chigiri sounded highly amused.

“Don’t stop- please.” Kunigami sighed. He could feel Chigiri swell with pride above him, the hands pressing into his back growing more confident. He felt himself start to fade out from just how relaxed it made him feel.

Until those little hands strayed close to the back of his ribs.

“Hmm! Careful now.” Kunigami twitched, spasming some. Chigiri paused, then those hands did it again, this time the touch even lighter. Giggles climbed up the hero’s throat, pressing against the back of his teeth. “C-Chi!”

“Ticklish, hero?” Oh that tone- he should have known this was bound to happen. Chigiri’s fingers curled even more, his nails skittering over the bare skin along his ribs. That did it- Kunigami arched with a cackle, feet kicking up behind him as he squirmed. “Good. After all the tickling you do to me, it’s about time I return the favor.”

“Chihihihiihi! Ahehahahhahahaha! Chiihihihigihihihihiri, plehahhahahahashe!” Kunigami tittered, fists clutching the sheets of the bed as he struggled not to flail. Those devious nails- they skittered and traced from the edges of his bottom ribs to the center of his armpits, pressing in occasionally just to get a snort. Sometimes they’d skitter up to his neck, making Kunigami scrunch and giggle. “Stahhahahahp, whahahhhat aboohoohout my mahhahhahahahsahahahhage?”

“This is the massage- a tickle massage.” Chigiri giggled, dropping one hand so he could prod at his belly, earning a loud squeal. “Oo, bad spot? Good to know.”

“HEHEHHEHEHHEYOHOHOHOHOMA!” Kunigami cackled, unable to hold still when Chigiri brought both hands to his belly, dancing his nails along the softer parts of his abs. “PLAHAHAHAHSE IT TIHIIHIIHICKLES TOOHOHOHOHOH MUCH!”

“Good. That’s the point, Rensuke.” The redhead rested his head against Kunigami’s back, giggling along within him. “You know- I was reading this new manga. Apparently the big source of energy for the characters is riiiiiiiiight here.” He wiggled his fingers right along the center of Kunigami’s belly, poking at his belly button. “Tao or something, you know?”

Kunigami didn’t know- for at that moment he let out a loud unadulterated squeal before finally having enough. Using all his strength, he flipped. Chigiri yelped as he went flying, nearly falling off the bed before Kunigami caught him, pulling him into his chest. Hands grabbed his wrists, keeping them up and away from his belly. “Thehehehre! Thehrehehehere…no more tihihihkckling.”

Chigiri looked a little dazed, recentering himself. Then he was grinning, and then he was laughing, face against Kunigami’s chest as the reaction settled between them. “Pfft-Geahhahahahaha! What kind of noise was thahahahhaht?”

Kunigami tried to be mad, but it wasn’t long before he was laughing just as much, supporting Chigiri’s neck as he pulled him closer, rolling them so they were lying side by side. “Shush- you squeal louder than me. That was just eh…defense mechanism.”

Chigiri howled at that, his voice nearly breaking from how hard he laughed. By the time they settled down, his eyes were misty, snorts breaking up his huffs of mirth. Kunigami doubted he looked much better- his belly held that comfortable ache from laughing too much, his heart pounding a mile a minute. “Oh god…oh my god, I fucking love you.”

“Heh, I love you too.” Kunigami smiled, reaching out as he brushed Chigiri’s hair out of his face. His eyes flicked to his lips, a silent request. Chigiri smiled before leaning up, taking his lips within his own.

“Want me to finish your massage?” Chigiri asked a tad breathlessly as they pulled away.

“Nah. I like this more.” Kunigami grinned, taking his boyfriend’s chin in hand before kissing again and again.

Thanks for reading! :D

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ghostoffuturespast · 10 months ago

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Shimmer & Shine

Dear @shimmer-like-agirl,

I don't know if you remember last May. I sent you an ask for one of those word prompt games. Which for the life of me, I can't find the actual list for. (Thank you, tumblr search function. You barely work when I need you to.)

Now, I don't begrudge you for not doing the one I asked, but you need to know that you not doing the one I asked has literally been sitting with me for the past eight months. This whole time. It's been on my mind. Your own namesake! Took me a while, but I just couldn't let that go.

Anyway, I wrote this little number for you, friend. Hope you don't mind I took ya girl for a little spin without asking. 🧡👻

Read below or on AO3.

Chin cupped in one palm and free fingers entwined around the stem of her wine glass, Darisha sighed. Despite the abysmal amount of wintry rain pouring down outside, the club was boisterously packed. And, even though the weather wasn’t doing her curls any favors, she should have been thrilled at the full house for this evening’s show. However, Darisha’s mood was scraping the bottom of the barrel and even the effervescent bubbly of her sparkling white wine wasn’t enough to lift her spirits.

Perhaps she was pouting. Maybe a little too much. But it was hard not to when the one person you wanted to be there wasn’t. Sighing again, she picked at the shimmer of purple sequins lining the hem of her cocktail dress before swirling her glass, tipping it back, and finishing off the last of her drink.

Her time probably would’ve been better spent warming up in her dressing room and not worrying about it. After all, it wasn’t his fault that something important had come up. Wasn’t his fault that he’d been slammed with cases all week. And wasn’t his fault that she had insisted it was fine before he’d given her a quick kiss and swept out the door with those long strides of his.

But saying and knowing were two different things. And it was just one of those nights. When doubt insisted on cuddling up next to you.

Amethyst eyes scanned the crowd, but only focused on the empty seat next to her.

A murmur of excitement rippled through the club as the house lights dimmed and the band filed out. The show wasn’t about to stop for her disappointment. Darisha took that as her cue to vacate her seat at the bar and drag her ass to the stage, the clack of her heels solitary as she walked across the floor.

The musicians made a business of settling themselves in, making last minute adjustments to mics and instruments; the quiet rattle of cymbals, the low pluck of strings, the test of keys. Darisha fiddled with the cable running down her microphone stand, even though it didn’t need it. Swiped the imaginary dust off the satin of her skirt, even though there wasn't a speck on it. Blinking the brilliance of the stage lights off her lashes, she made introductions to the backlit faces of the crowd and took a deep breath.

Let the sultry balm of song take over.

The music soothed her heart, took the edge off the loneliness.

But it was a rest, a moment between numbers, that lifted her heart. Truly made it soar.

Darisha caught a glimpse of him when the stage lights transitioned. When the blinding glare of the lights softened to reveal what was behind the partition of that invisible curtain. He’d squeezed himself in at the back corner of the bar, the collar and shoulders of his coat drenched from the rain. The bartender handed him a beer. They exchanged a few jovial words before he took a sip and looked up, caught her eye and made her heart skip a beat.

River beamed at her. A brilliant smile.

One that helped her shine.

Needless to say, after the show, her heels were a lot more excited to get off the stage than they had been to get on.

Darisha practically threw herself at River, not caring about the damp still on his coat. The hug was worth it. “Thought you weren’t gonna make it?”

He squeezed her back. “Managed to wrap up early.” And pulled her into the sweetest of kisses before parting to whisper in her ear. “Wouldn’t miss you for the world, Darisha. Not if I can help it. Love you, babe.”

“I love you too.” She grinned up at him and made a futile attempt to fix the wet fluff of his collar. “Even if you're a little too fashionably late sometimes.”

“Well, I can see about making it up to you. Made sure there was only one name on my calendar for the rest of the evening… Might’ve even bought an extra bottle of wine.” River winked at her. “I’m all yours.”

“Sounds like a deal. Let me grab my coat and let’s get out of here.”

They walked to the dressing rooms, hand in hand.

The door to the alley creaked open and shut just the same. The two of them watched as the rain poured down, sheets cascading off the awning overhead while slips of neon reflected off the puddles that had gathered in the asphalt. Sparkling drops of iridescence amongst the grime and grit.

Darisha should’ve worn a warmer coat. Perhaps a longer dress. Icy air pricked at her knees and made her shiver. But then there was an arm around her, River tucking her into his side to share some of his warmth. She leaned into him, sighing content as their breaths curled with one another in the cold.

Worth it.

“I can bring the truck around.” River offered.

She considered for a moment. “While I appreciate the thought, I’ve spent enough of the evening alone without you. We’ll make a break for it.”

“In your nice heels?”

“Mhmm.”

“How about a piggy back ride then?”

“Not very dignified in this dress.” She reached down to clasp his hand, tugging him forward and smiling over her shoulder. “Trust me, you’re worth way more than these shoes. Keep up, will you?”

“You don’t even know where the trucks parked at.”

She’d do it. Maybe with some reluctance. But she’d trade her entire wardrobe just to hear the music of his voice. She’d certainly, at least, brave the weather.

Darisha got a head start. River laughed.

And they both dashed out onto the streets together, hand in hand through the shimmer of winter rain.

#just a pinch of angst #because it makes the fluff better #cyberpunk 2077 #writing #fan fiction #gift fic #shimmer-like-a-girl #v x river ward #i know she's not a v... but shhh #part time v #oc: darisha voss #river ward #have a fine shippy saturday #shippy saturday

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laurelwinchester · 7 months ago

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lol just went in the rookie tag and everyone is going feral and saying they hate the show and this is the worst season and they hope it gets cancelled because tim and lucy broke up and meanwhile i'm over here just EATING THIS SHIT UP. there's literally no way they're not an endgame couple so when that break up happened i was like "GOOD, it was getting a little too chummy around here."

#here's the thing: embrace suffering. hurt your faves. that's my motto. :)#i can only take so many cutesy date nights and allusions to shower sex you know? y'all have been happy for long enough #i'm not about that fluffy life #i want my blorbos sobbing and bleeding on the ground #personally i was rooting for another kidnapping or even a major injury or mental breakdown but this'll do in a pinch #i accept that fluff is a part of fandom but we can't just let angst and whump go extinct. it's the backbone of everything.#tim x lucy #the rookie spoilers

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gaybitchfx · 2 years ago

Note

HOLA SOY DORA

DORAAA

BOOOOOTTSSS

C’MON DORA

DODODODODDO DORA

DODODODODO DORA

DODODODODOD DORA

DODODODODO DORA

DORA DORA DORA THE EXPLORER

DORA-

I got an illumi request

I ain’t fixing any typos so deal with it mkay

Sooo

Reader is like really bubbly and hyper ‘n shit and likes to wear really girly and pink pastel outfits and when reader and illumi stand next to each other they are 100% opposites

Kinda like

Kinda like us🥹

Ahem anyway-

While reader and illumi were out on a date someone called out how the reader dressed and how a man shouldn’t be dressing like he does

And that just ruins readers while ass mood for like a week, he’s less hyper and bubbly doesn’t wanna dress like usual and doesn’t really wanna go out to places with illumi anymore

Wanna know how illumi comforts him ?

Kills the bitch.

Reader didn’t know he was dead till him and illumi were cuddling on the couch watching TV together and it says blah blah blah is dead and reader is like “huh..I wonder who did that..” and illumi is smirking and shit and then is like “hey you want some ice cream ?” And since ice cream heals everything reader is happy again to his old self❤️🫦

-🍓 Character(s): Illumi

-🍓 Type of reader: M!Reader

-🍓 Category: Sfw

-🍓 Warning(s): Being criticized for what you wear

-🍓 Note: We look iconic just like those two houses (the black and pink house)

-🍓 Edited: ❌

You two were the complete opposites of each other.

Illumi would rather wear dark-themed clothing, never in his life touched a color that was too bright for the eyes. You would wear pastels or anything bright that fits your daily mood, even if it was too much.

When standing next to each other it was like coal placed next to an ornament, not very compatible looking. But they do say opposites attract one another yes?

“Oh illumi look!” You exclaimed and quickly went up to a window that showed puppies playing with each other. “They’re so cuteee! Can we have one pleaseee!?” You pleaded and looked at Illumi with a pout and puppy dog eyes.

“No.” He firmly said making you sulk.

“I’ll be back for you just wait.” You whispered to one of the puppies as Illumi dragged you away from the glass. “I can’t believe a man would dress like that of all things.

He looks like he dressed in the dark.” Some man said loud and clear for you to hear while making direct eye contact with you.

“Fucking sickening.” Illumi had turned his attention away from the man and onto you, you were visibly sulking like a deflated balloon.

“Are you alright?” Illumi question you as he did a little squeeze with your hand. “I’m fine! Let’s just…let’s just go home..” You said with a quick smile. Illumi clicked his teeth and took note of what the man looked like as the two of you walked home.

The next day was even worse, you were more sluggish and just looked upset. What that guy said struck a nerve. “You want something sweet dear?” Illumi asked as you watched tv on the couch.

“No..” You grumbled making Illumi frown a bit. “Want to go for a walk?” You shook your head and brought your attention back onto the tv. For the next few days, you barely dressed in your usual attire and didn’t even bother leaving the house with Illumi.

That was the last straw before Illumi left for a bit and searched for the man that had ruined your whole week and took care of him in the nicest way possible.

“I’m home,” Illumi said as he took his shoes off by the door. “Welcome back.” You said with a small smile. Illumi sat down next to you and rested your head on his lap and changed the channel to the news.

The news lady explained the death of a certain man and showed a picture of his face. “How odd...I wonder who did that.” You hummed but shrugged it off. Illumi had the biggest grin he could muster up, it was pretty unsettling.

That grin had gone away when he looked at you. “Ice cream?” He offered making you spring up, nearly hitting him in the chin with your head.

“Hell yeah!” You exclaimed, and just like that, you were back to how you originally were.

-🍓tags: @jkloserdazai @reallyromealone @lostsomewhereinthegarden @secretivemessenger

#illumi hunter x hunter #illumi zoldyck #illumi x male reader #illumi x you #illumi x y/n #illumi x reader #fiction #best son #fluff #pinch of angst #male reader #hunter x hunter #hxh x male reader

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penguuinss · 2 years ago

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guys... i have... skk brainrot... id like to share... throws up and holds hands out. HERE IS A LIST OF MY FAVS!!!

dazai would always take care of chuuya after corruption. he'd catch him, whisper "you did well today," and place his head on his lap, hum a soft tune while waiting for someone to pick them up from the scene. sometimes he'd tangle his hands in chuuya's hair because he loves how soft it is.

chuuya would always take care of dazai after his attempts fail. he would silently help him bathe, dry his hair, and they wouldn't talk. they never would, because chuuya knows dazai probably wasn't in the mood for it. it's only until the next day that dazai goes back to his old self, and they go back to their same old fights

chuuya would cook for the both of them every day. he fusses about how dazai probably doesn't even know how take care of himself (which is probably true), then proceeds to cook meals for him

after missions, they'd drink together. dazai would watch as chuuya gets even more intoxicated, braver, and somewhat flirty-- which he finds this amusing, or so people think, but he actually flusters easily on the inside and just has a great poker face.

CHUUYA WEARS CHAPSTICK. i will repeat this every day. he wears it. i swear he does. he doesn't want his lips to be chapped, and when dazai notices this, he doesn't stop staring, which leads us to--

at some point, dazai definitely kissed chuuya to stop corruption. he kisses him, light and airy, full of curiosity, and finds out chuuya's chapstick is flavored. and at some point, chuuya finds out and changes his chapstick every day just in case it happens again. and it does.

chuuya understood why dazai left the mafia, but was conflicted on what to do afterwards. he was just so used to dazai's presence that he sometimes accidentally cooks food for two instead of one and buys bandages as a habit

i definitely have more but. i'm still half awake please forgive me.. im pretty sure most of the fandom thinks about this but i'd like to be a reminder hashtag i hope skk stans suffer once more

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #soukoku #skk #skk headcanons #kind of #brainrot #has a pinch of #angst #but mostly #fluff #i hate them so much

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jhalya · 2 years ago

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Haladriel Week Entries

#haladriel #galadriel x halbrand #haladrielweek #still working on day 7 #but the rest is ready to go!#so excited about this #mostly because this is a shit load of smut and fluff #with a pinch of angst #:3

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askyeehan · 1 year ago

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How did y’all end up together? Mind tellin the story?

Cole: How me and Hanzo got together. I could sit here all day and talk about every single twist and turn, 'cause there were plenty of 'em. It might surprise ya to know Hanzo and I didn't actually get along at first. Not that we hated each other or anythin' like that. But the first time I even heard about Hanzo was from his brother.

It's hard to not be biased in such a complicated situation. Lots of people thought poorly of Hanzo and what he did, but seein' my own background, I was willin' to give him a chance. The more I slowly heard and gathered about how he grew up….it made me sick, to be honest. He deserved better than what those monsters….

Cole shakes his head, pushing the thoughts away.

Anyway, back to us. Our first mission together was a mess. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was definitely more focused on tryin' to show off and impress Hanzo that I got hurt pretty bad. Obviously I'm still alive, of course! Takes a lot to keep me down, that's for sure. He did visit me in the infirmary, which took everyone by surprise.

It was incredibly difficult getting him to socialize with much of anyone. Even all this time later, he doesn't talk to many people, at least not the way he does when I'm around. He's slowly getting better, with more and more gentle nudges.

Part of the reason I'm doin' all this is to hopefully get him out of his comfort zone a bit and be more adventurous. There's so much more to be said about those twists and turns I mentioned, I'll definitely be talkin' about them in depth in the future.

#yeehan #cole cassidy #overwatch #overwatch 2 #asks open #ask box open #audio #fluff #tiny bit of angst #just a pinch #how we met #answered #made with ai #just the audio though i made the script and edited the raw audio heehee #it's actually a whole process #askyeehan

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amberjazmyn · 8 months ago

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make you feel my love

𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮 - make you feel my love 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 - tears, fluff, workplace harrassment due to gender, mentions of abuse, mentions of illness 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 - through the lyrics of shane filan's "make you feel my love" we see the four main cast members of supernatural loving their partner through everything and anything 𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 - this came out of nowhere lol, please enjoy! also bold italics is lyrics, italics is like flashbacks and everything else is the regular font.

masterlist listen to "make you feel my love" right here! - - - jensen ackles:

when the rain is blowin' in your face and the whole world is on your case, i could offer you a warm embrace, to make you feel my love.

today had been the worst day in the world for you and you wish you could understand why. first off, it was raining cats and dogs outside, so loud you personally thought your work building would collapse in on itself and it utterly terrified you. and two, it seemed as though your whole office building and everyone inside of it was on your case and trying to nit-pick at every little thing you did, whether that was in regards to you doing your job properly or just breathing, someone in your office had something to say about it and it almost made you want to scream. but, you remembered you actually liked this job and didn't want to lose it all because you lost control once at a time when you were defending yourself from everyone else's ridicule and judgement. even though you were one of only five women working this specific job, you still loved it even though it was a male-dominated job. you knew that when things like this happened, when the rain was blowing in your face and the whole world was on your case that your boyfriend, jensen, would offer you a warm embrace, making you feel his undying love for you.

however, he still hadn't returned from a convention in downtown dallas so unfortunately, your boyfriend wasn't going to be home the sme time you returned home from work. so, you just sucked those tears back up and pushed on through the rest of the work day, only hoping that no one else would try to test you otherwise you would start to bawl your eyes and not have the ability to stop cause once you start, you could find it quite difficult for yourself to stop crying.

continuing your customer service job, which truthfully you didn't need due to your boyfriend's extravagent job but, you still loved it, it started to eventually come to the end of your work shift when you and the two other work colleagues that were incessant on causing you to almost have a mental breakdown, because of your gender, you just hoped it wasn't you getting yelled at again. and, you somehow managed a shaky breath of relief when you saw the body language your boss had in regards to your colleagues in comparison to you.

"---sir, i'm sorry but, what on earth are we doing in here with...her?" the older work colleague of yours jeered with attitude in his voice as your boss gave him a sharp look whilst you stayed silent, looking anywhere but at your boss and the two other colleagues

"why do you think, todd?" your boss matched todd's attitude as the man stepped down as he gulped before your boss couldn't stop himself from continuing

"why do you both think it's okay to constantly bother y.n when she's just peacefully doing her job like everyone else, just like she's supposed to? don't you ever get tired of being incessant bullies? don't you ever think that i can actually hear all this bullying and abuse that you're aiming at y.n? do you ever step back and think to yourself how much stress and harm you are putting on her? do you ever step back and wonder if your words actually cause harm to your fellow work colleagues or are you just so ignorant that you no longer care anymore? because that's what i think of you todd and of you as well, richard, and i wish i had found out about this earlier so i could have let you both go before it could have escalated this far and y.n, i am so incredibly sorry that it's taken this long for me to take action because this behaviour...this genderphobic misogynistic behaviour is never and will never be tolerated in my workplace, not today, not ever! so, todd, richard, it's with my greatest pleasure that today is your final day at this job and you will be fired because how you behave towards your other work colleagues is simply not tolerable any longer. i'd like to say i wish you both the best but, i'd honestly be lying if i said that so, let's hope the next time i have to see or hear about either of you, you guys' heads will have been removed out of arses, but in saying that, i don't have high hopes for that...grab your things the both of you and leave, i want you guys clocked out and out of the building before the end of the day..." the boss was no longer allowing this abusive behaviour and you couldn't help but feel thankful to him, it was also quite hilarious to see how todd and richard reacted

for those who wanted a mental image of the way these two grown ass adults reacted to their firing was them basically throwing fits in the way a child would if they were told no, you cannot play on the tablet (child's name) your screen time for the day has finished. as much as you wanted to laugh, you found yourself not being able to because you were just so exhausted from this long and quite frankly traumatic day that you just wanted it to be over so you could go home and cacoon yourself in blankets on the couch as you then wait for your boyfriend jensen to return home from his convention in dallas with the supernatural cast. but then you remembered that you still had a job to finish and, just as you went to leave your boss's office, he stopped you.

"...oh, y.n, before i let you go, i am terribly sorry that you had to deal with todd and richard constantly on your case today and every other day, you didn't deserve it and it was completely unwarranted every single time. i wish i had done this firing sooner because they truly don't deserve a place in my workplace if they are being disrespectful to my fellow employees just because of their gender which is something that is of course, not easily changeable. also, if you wish to, i give you full permission to clock out earlier today since i know how exhausted you are from all of their abuses you've recieved. all i ask is that if you do leave early, that i get a text message reassuring me that you've got home safely and another one when jensen gets home from dallas since i remember you telling me that he returns back tonight because i want to know that you're being taken care of properly, okay?" tears welled in your eyes as you smiled, making eye contact with your boss as you nodded your head

"thank you sir. all of this has been well appreciated and, i'll be leaving work early since i don't think i feel like i'm in the right headspace to continue so, i'll clock out early. and, i promise, as soon as i get home and then as soon as jensen gets home, you'll be receiving text messages from me, don't worry. again, thank you for firing todd and richard and for sticking up for me, i know everyone else has but, having you also stick up for me just makes it a little bit better..." you trailed off as your boss nodded his head and watched as you left his office, a little less of the world weighing you down as you walked out then what you had when you walked in

let's just say you were happily surprised and relieved when you came home to see your boyfriend already home with his arms open ready to comfort you whilst you just unloaded on him after sending a message letting your boss know you had got home safely and that jensen too had also was there with his arms open waiting.

jared padalecki:

i know you haven't made your mind up yet but i would never do you wrong. i've known it from the moment that we met, no doubt in mind where you belong.

you hated being in this position. your childhood best friend, jared padalecki (yes the jared padalecki from gilmore girls and newly supernatural was your childhood best friend) had just professed his undying and neverending love for you just hours before he was to leave for supernatural's second year of filming for season two yet, you couldn't give him a yes or no answer. so, you just stood there, in the lounge room of his san antonio, texas childhood loungeroom, like an utter loser as you just stared at your best friend.

"...umm, i...i'm sorry what...what did you just say jared?" you managed to finally stammer out as jared let out a shaky breath, letting you know he was about to cry and you hated it - you hated being the reason that your best friend was crying

you could tell that jared didn't want to repeat himself and was about to leave so you stepped forward and grabbed his hand, "no, don't...please don't leave jared...i just, i know what you said, i heard it but i just...can i...maybe...have some time to think about my answer?" you stammered out as you held jared's hand tighter as his tears started to trickle down his cheeks as his lip trembled

"umm...yeah, sure....that...that's fine, y.n. i...i'm sorry, i shouldn't...i shouldn't have put you on the spot like that i just...i wanted to tell you before i leave for season two of supernatural and i just...truthfully, i panicked and i just--"

"--hey, jared, calm down bubs. it's fine, you didn't put me on the spot, i just wasn't expecting it but, that doesn't mean i shouldn't not have expected it at all either. but, i'm still okay to think about my answer?" you reassured jared as he nodded his head to your question of still wanting to think about your answer and if it was okay

"yeah, absolutely, you can think about your answer, take as long or as little as you want, there is no timetable whatsoever, i just wanted to tell you before i left so, yeah..." jared smiled shyly, wiping away some extra tears off his cheeks as you smiled and moved closer

"...yeah, i get it j. you didn't want to leave anything unsaid before leaving so you said it all now, it wouldn't be the first time we've done this. because, if i remember right, we had a similar if not same exact conversation when we were sixteen and seventeen right before you left for los angeles for gilmore girls and i gave you the same exact answer except, i never gave you the answer to your question but, this time, i promise i will because i think this time i'm ready to accept the truth and not be selfish anymore..." you trailed off, giving a quick kiss to jared's head leaving him confused as he turned around

"...selfish? you're never selfish, y.n..." jared whispered but you still heard it and you smiled as you opened the front door

"...i never intended to but, yes, i was this time j. have fun on set love and i'll be there at the airport waiting for you and jensen to come home!" you smiled and left without another word as jared was still confused but didn't try to pursue anything more since he was needed at the airport within minutes

jared had been having the best time on set with jensen and the other cast memebers of supernatural but, even that fun couldn't stop the fear of what your answer to his question was going to be when he reunites with you later tonight in austin airport. he loved you dearly, you both knew this since like mentioned earlier, it wasn't the first time jared had professed his more than platonic love for you and you had rejected jared's advances and honestly, looking back on your sixteen-year-old self now as a twenty-one-year-old, you thought it was quite selfish as you remembered the same tearful, devastated face that little seventeen-year-old jared shared with the same but older, twenty-two-year-old jared the second time you "rejected" him. you couldn't keep on pretending that you too hadn't fallen head over heels in love with jared like he had with you because, you really had fallen in love with him and probably first fell in love with him when you truthfully first met him when you guys were in primary school, never realising it until you were sixteen, when jared first tried to ask you out after expressing his love for you. you knew he would never do you wrong and treat you like an absolute queen, seriously, he had seen you be mistreated since you were sixteen, after he left for los angeles and it bothered him so bad that he couldn't do anything to stop it. even after he pleaded with his dad, gerald, to keep an extra close eye on you to make sure there were no physical injuries, you still refused to believe that your ex-boyfriends were abusive and bad because you didn't want to believe you were in love with your childhood best friend who you'd known since first grade in primary school.

except, now that you had the conversation a second time with jared at an older and slightly more mature age and just before you two would be apart for the best of a few months, you finally realised you couldn't be selfish anymore and you could no longer hide your true affection for jared anymore. so you didn't want to hide it anymore. as you impatiently waited at austin airport with danneel, jensen ackles' girlfriend, you went back and forth in your mind of how you were going to tell jared that in fact, you too were in love with him and you wanted to be with him for as long as forever. but, just as you could think up of what you wanted to say to jared, you heard danneel let out the loudest scream in the world, danneel yanking on your hand as you looked up.

and all of a sudden, you couldn't stop your hand from sliding out of danneel's or your legs from moving forward. bursting out into tears, you ran as fast as you could as you barely noticed the way jared's face lit up in excitement and slight anxiousness as you ran closer to him. since you were a loud crier, you basically had the entire arrivals terminal staring at you and not just because there was a tv show cast returning home via a normal commerical airplane and walking through a regular airport terminal rather than a private one right at the back of the airport where no one else would see them return home and potentially infiltrate them.

you finally got closer to jared who quickly dropped his duffle bag and opened his arms knowing you were going to jump into them since it was something you always did however, this time, it was different and he couldn't understand why until...

...you grabbed his face and kissed him in the most passionate way you had ever kissed anyone before in your entire life. jared, at first, of course was shellshocked and understandably, mortified but, as soon as he tasted the saltiness of the tears streaming down your cheeks on his lips, he didn't hesitate a second longer and started kissing you back as cheers, applauses and wolf-whistles galore filled the arrival terminal at austin airport as jared's castmates jensen ackles and lauren cohen watched on as danneel held tightly onto her own boyfriend with the biggest smiles on her. all of them happy that jared would no longer have to be devastated or fearful of his best friend not reciprocating her obvious love for him anymore.

"...i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you jared! i love you so fucking much and i am so sorry for being so selfish not telling you. i didn't really need time to think ahout my answer, i just said those things because i didn't want to allow myself to believe that i was in love with my best friend and it was so selfish of me and i cannot believe i made you cry like that and i just wish i could---"

kissing you again, jared pulled apart this time after initiating the second kiss, "---shut up will you, y.n, you really must love the sound of your voice if you're still too thick in the head to think i don't forgive you because i do forgive you. believe me, it took me way too long to pull my own head out of my arse because i also refused to believe that i was in love with my best friend as well. but, i put on my big boy pants and i told you two times, once when i was seventeen and about to leave for los angeles and the second time when i was twenty-two and leaving for supernatural's second season because i didn't want to leave you without thinking i had forgotten anything. and i didn't because i told you that i was head over heels in love with you and unlike anyone else i'd ever loved before. and it broke my heart hearing you say you needed more time to think about it even though you had given me the same answer the first time and actually never gave me a response because you just couldn't face it at the time and that's okay because this time you did and i couldn't have loved you anymore y.n. i mean...i...i've known it from the moment we met and there was no doubt in my mind where you belong and that's with me and no one else..." jared trailed off, tears welling in his eyes as you smiled as you initiated a third and one last kiss as the both of you couldn't stop laughing and crying and hugging each other

although it had taken years upon years of selfishly pretending you weren't in love with your best friend, you were glad it had taken a second year of supernatural being filmed in vancouver, canada to kick your arse and head into gear as well as it (your head) being removed from your arse and realise that you couldn't be selfish anymore. and you had to acknowledge that you couldn't fall in love with someone else because it was always going to be jared. and now, as you held tightly onto one another as you walked through austin airport with the rest of the supernatural cast and danneel, you couldn't be any happier with your life now that you had jared with you forever and he was more than just your "childhood best friend".

misha collins:

i'd go hungry, i'd go black and blue, i'd go crawling down the avenue. no, there's nothin' that i wouldn't do, to make you feel my love

you struggled to believe it. misha utterly refused to believe it. and he wished there was something he could have done to prevent it from happening...

"...mr collins...did you hear what i just said?" misha lifted his head up from staring at the carpeted floor in your, his wife's oncologist's office, with eyes that couldn't lie - your husband hadn't been listening at all to anything your oncologist had just said during the entire duration of them being in there

"ah, no i...i didn't, sorry, what were we talking about doctor marshall?" misha gulped as he squeezed your hand tighter as you smiled with a soft and tenderness at him as doctor marshall smiled too

"don't apologise mr collins, things like this can happen, especially because of how difficult it can be to comprehend your spouse having what can turn into a terminal illness, a lot of spouses will often pretend they didn't hear the diagnosis because they don't want to believe that their other half could be so sick..."

oh, that's why they were visitin doctor marshall, he was giving a diagnosis to you, misha's wife, in regards to all the blood tests and other scans that you had been doing after you had been dealthly sick and no one, not even your local gp in austin, texas, could provide you with an answer so they referred you over to doctor marshall in downtown austin. misha had completely forgotten about that since he had been worrying about everything else that he couldn't even remember why he was in downtown austin with his wife and almost bursting out into tears in doctor marshall's office.

"...oh, umm, doctor marshall, will...is y.n able to undergo rounds of chemotherapy or any other form of can...treatment for her illness?" misha stammered out as tears started to get him choked up as you stayed stoic and comforted your husband - you had a feeling that this doctor's appointment wouldn't be a happy and easy one to get through

"now, mr collins, of course she is able to. we always suggest that the smartest and most logical idea, especially when we detect and diagnose the cancer early that going through treatment will give us and your wife the highest rate of surviving her cancer which is what we want. but, of course, we can't just force y.n to undergo treatment just for our own selfish needs. it has to be of her own wishes and accord because we don't know if the person suffering with the illness really wants to go through the process of the treatment and its side effects that it comes with as well as the long and constant hospital stays as an inpatient. so, if the both of you need some time to hash it out, i am absolutely fine with giving you guys a chance to chat and decide whether or not you, y.n, would like to go through with treatment or if you don't and after that, we can go from there, alright?" doctor marshall explained as you and misha nodded your heads as you held each others hands tighter

"thanks, doctor marshall, we shouldn't take long..." you trailed off for the first time since the beginning of the appointment as you could hear your husband attempt to quieten his sobs as his body shook, his free hand covering his mouth as his eyes clamped shut tight

you knew this was breaking your husbands heart, he had lost his own friend to cancer a few years back just before supernatural returned from their hiatus and now, he had to go through that all over again with his wife? how on earth was that fair to misha? it wasn't, it wasn't fair at all. however, you were determined to survive and beat your cancer for misha's friend who wasn't able to. you were determined to get to the end of your chemotherapy and ring that goddamn bell at the end of it all for those who never got to.

reaching over doctor marshall's desk to the tissue box, you grabbed a few and handed them to your husband as he wetly giggled, grabbing one of them and wiping his tears after pocketing the others, "...thanks babe..." he muttered as you kissed his temple softly as you continued to squeeze his hand comfortingly

"...so, doctor marshall wants us to discuss the idea of me going through treatment, so, how do you feel about me doing that?" you questioned, your head tilting to the side as misha looked at you as though you were insane - which, in fairness, you were a little bit but, that's why misha fell in love with you in the first place

"why are you asking me this, y.n? how do you the one who's actually going to through it, feel about it? this has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you, just like doctor marshall said, just because i may want and heavily suggest you do it, if you don't want to do it, i respect your decision and will do everything i can do to make this journey easier for you! this is not my decision to ultimately make, babe!" misha's tears were still heard in his voice although his sobs had calmed down as you sighed and nodded your head, smiling softly

"okay. well, it wasn't a hard decision, mish. i want to go through with the chemotherapy, especially because doctor marshall said that we caught it early that i have a higher chance of surviving. i...i want to ring that bell at the end of chemo because your friend never got to ring that bell and i want to do that. i can't bare the thought of you losing another person you love with your entire beating heart to cancer because that's just unfair. so, it's best i start now when it's still early in the cancer to do so..." you trailed off, your heart breaking as your husband's sobs returned at the mention of his best friend's death to cancer alongside the possibility of his own wife losing her cancer battle as well

"...i can't either, y.n. i can't lose you either! i barely survived losing [best friend], i can't lose you too! i don't want to!" misha sobbed as he folded in on himself, his pain immeasurable as you reached over the chair's arm and hugged your husband as tightly as you possibly could as he wept

"you won't lose me baby! i'm going to get through this cancer, i'm gonna ring that bloody bell and then we're going to rest and then after that, we're gonna have as many kids as we possibly can and we're gonna live happily ever after, i promise..."

...psh, yeah, happily ever after my arse! once again, almost like a coda to the day you were diagnosed with cancer, you were stoic and unemotional whilst misha, your husband was almost weepy at doctor marshall's check-up with you at the cancer hospital in downtown austin. for some context, not too long after that doctor's appointment where you were first officially diagnosed, within a month, you were admitted to downtown austin's cancer hospital as an in-patient so you could start your cancer treatment basically straight away to give you the best chance of survival and eliminating the cancer all together.

however, this is where the "pssh, yeah, happily ever after my arse!" comes from because, just this last couple weeks, you'd been blindsided with a dangerous infection in your bloodstream which nearly rendered you into a coma if the nurses hadn't noticed in time. and, even though, like your cancer, the nurses caught the infection early, it still didn't stop you from being in dangerous waters. so, you had to constantly fight every single day by forcing yourself to keep your eyes open, to eat, to drink and to walk around the upper cancer unit for ten minutes a day before returning back to your hospital room so you could then spend a couple of hours with misha and someone else that he'd invite to come with him. the "someone else" was usually jared, jensen or rob but today, it was all three of them because your oncology team had a terrible gut feeling and whilst they wished it to be a false alarm, they wanted to make sure misha had enough people around him to comfort him if their gut feeling was to follow through and come true.

misha was currently sitting uncomfortably, with his legs crossed like when you were kids at primary school sitting on the floor, his right elbow resting on the arm of the chair and his left arm stretching over to hold yours as you rested, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, your chest ever so slightly rising and falling tucked away under the sheets of your hospital bed. tears were constantly threatening to dribble down his cheeks as he constantly willed them away as he breathed shakily in and out, his hand occasionally coming up from the chair arm and covering his mouth for the times he couldn't help a sob and it's escape. and standing all around the rest of the room were his three castmates, jared, jensen and rob and they were helpless in knowing how to console their castmate. none of them had gone through the loss of someone they love due to cancer and now the possibility of the same thing was happening to his wife. although you were currently unconscious but breathing, you just knew that misha wished it was him in the hospital bed with cancer and this mysterious yet dangerous blood infection, it was completely obvious because misha had been that way ever since you two started dating and even before that when you two were just best friends.

i mean, this man, this lunatic of a man who was crazy in love with you would go hungry for you. he'd go black and blue for you. he'd go crawling down the avenue for you. there was absolutely nothing this looney toon wouldn't do for you because if it showed you how much he loved you, he'd do it. he'd even switch places with you, have himself go through this cancer, the treatment and this awful, stressful, heartbreaking, scary blood infection if it meant that you were okay and not worried every single day about whether or not you were actually going to end up ringing that bell at the end of your chemotherapy.

and, suddenly, out of pure fight that you still had left in you, you opened your eyes more determined then ever whilst misha wailed the same way he did when his best friend took his last breath with jared providing him with some comfort as he kind of rested on top of him, his arms around misha's waist which moved each sob which made jared move slightly. jensen and rob not too far behind when jensen's eyes widened, his teary eyes, since misha wasn't the only one in a grief-like state, spoke up in a whisper.

"...mish...y.n's woken up..." jensen whispered and as misha and jared both heard that sentence, their heads shot up and more tears poured down misha's face as he touched your face, jared's arms letting go of his hold on misha

"...oh, baby! are you okay? are you hurt? what hurts? do i need to get the nurse what's--"

"--calm down babe, breathe. yes, i'm okay darling. i'm not hurt, i'm just a little numb and stiff due to the way i've been lying down. and yes, getting the nurse would be a great idea, and i think you should do it because you've been holed up in this room longer than anyone else has. jared, jensen and rob will take immense care of me for the five or so minutes you step out of this room to grab the nurse so don't have a freak out, alright love? i'm still here, i haven't left and i won't leave...now go, get the nurse and doctor marshall," you may have just woken up but that didn't mean you were tired or exhausted because you weren't, truthfully, you felt more alive than you'd ever felt before

agreeing and too tired to think about arguing, misha nodded his head and unlatched his grip from yours and left the hospital room to fetch the nurse and doctor marshall, "okay, i'll be back love. have some water, you must be thirsty, jared'll help you if you need it," misha smiled softly with a tender kiss to your temple as you smiled as you watched him walk out, wiping away his wet cheeks and to the left to the reception desk so they could page for the nurse and doctor marshall

let's just say, from how calm and smiley both the nurse and doctor marshall were, it seemed as though their gut feeling was wrong and the blood infection had been caught early and it looked as though you were going to make an amazing recovery. from not just the infection but also from the cancer and that was why the rest of downtown austin's cancer hospital could hear cheers, screams and just outright excitement coming out of room 4580.

alexander calvert:

when the evening shadows and the stars appear, and there is no one there to dry your tears, i could hold you for a million years, to make you feel my love.

you couldn't stay strong anymore so you didn't. you had returned home from vancouver, canada to austin, texas to hold a vigil back in your childhood home for your father who was dying due to respiratory distress and it had just been confirmed that your father had died. you didn't want to believe it, i mean, what nineteen-year-old wanted to believe that their father has just died after months and months of being bedridden after being diagnosed with respiratory distress? the doctors promised you, promised your whole family that with some sort of miracle drug that was very new but already so revoulationary and able to cure the disease that you were beside yourself that their promise fell on deaf hands and deaf ears. how dare they lie to you and your family? how dare they provide you with such comfort and solace that your dad was going to survive only for him to die months later in his bed in the very home you had every single childhood memory up until age twelve when you moved to austin, texas after your parents civily split up. and right now, you just cried. your body fell forward as a loud and guttural sob that sounded as though it was from an animal that was dying fell from your mouth as your knees hit the ground, your arms falling onto your father's bed on which he laid on in his final moments.

it was in that moment that the rest of your siblings, mum and doctor left the master bedroom as you continued to weep, wishing only for the dark to become light again, wishing for your father to open his eyes and just say he was joking even though he knew that would be a too crude joke to play on his ever-loving family who had never done a thing wrong to deserve that type of tasteless joke. your mum, whilst devastated over the loss of her ex-husband, knew you'd be the most devastated about this and was thankful, praising god that she remembered that alexander calvert, your boyfriend and a rising actor was in downtown austin. specifically, for a week-long run of commericals and made the smart decision to ring him up to let him know that your father had died and that you needed comfort but the only person who could really provide her with the right comfort was alex.

due to your wailing and complete ignorance to the world around you, you hadn't noticed the gentle touch of your gorgeously talented but ever so empathetic and sweetheart of a boyfriend, alex. however, because you could feel the slight chance in the air, you could tell without lifting your head up off of your father's bed and current resting place that someone was next to you. it wasn't until you heard his soft voice that you knew instantly by the way of his accent and how it was obvious he too had spent time crying himself, that it was your boyfriend next to you and not a family member who just carelessly decided to check in on you just for the sake of it.

"...y.n, baby, you can rest now..." alex's soft voice, that sounded like he too had been crying after recieving the phone call from your mother sounded from beside you as you finally lifted your head up from the warm blankets and sheets of your father's bed

"...alex...what...what are you doing here? you're supposed to be in downtown austin with the commerical film crew, what..." you trailed off, your voice croaky and hoarse from all the wailing you had been doing for what felt like eternity at this stage

"...you are more important, y.n. your mum called me, she told me what had happened..." alex's voice stopped as he got all choked up as tears welled in his eyes as you struggled to hold yourself together again

"...he...my dad's dead alex...he...he isn't coming back...he...he's never going to wake up again..." you sobbed as you fell, instead of collapsing forward onto the bed, you fell sideward onto alex who caught you and held you as more sobs jolted your tired body

"...i know darling and i am so sorry. i wish i could say anything that could ease this hurt but i know nothing can do that!" alex whispered as he held you, rocking the both of you back and forth as tears streamed down the both of your faces whilst your dad's lifeless body laid in rest on the top of the bed that you were still hunched over

the evening started to shadow the master bedroom of your childhood home and you could see the light of the stars started to appear, there was an obvious brighter star that shone the brightest out of all of them. it was clear that that star was none other than your dad reassuring you and the rest of the family that he was safe and that he'd always be there to shine bright every single night. last time your family went through a bereavement, you and alex were only best friends and he was in vancouver and you were in austin which meant that he wasn't just a 45-minute drive away to wipe away all your tears over the loss of your grandpapa when you were a mere twelve-year-old returning back to austin in the same way nineteen-year-old you had returned to austin to stand vigil at your now-dead father's bedside. it was a weird sense of deja vu or like a coda in a movie or song but, this time you were just grateful that you had alex here with you to comfort you and to dry your tears, to hold you for a million years.

"...alex...i love you so much..." you whispered, your eyes only just staying open since it was now midnight and you and alex were still sitting vigil in your father's bedroom hours after his death date had been called

"...i love you too baby...i think it's time we get some rest and go to sleep? what do you think?" alex whispered as you couldn't help but agree, although you wanted to stay in this room with your father for the rest of eternity, you knew you couldn't do that

"yeah, i don't think dad would want us crying at his bedside for the rest of our lives. i think if he had the ability to become a ghost, he'd definitely tell us off for crying over him *tearful giggles*. besides, i'm exhausted and it's nearly thirty minutes after midnight and you have a commerical to film tomorrow that i don't want you falling asleep during so, it's time for bed..." you trailed off with a broken smile, standing up off the floor from your kneeling grief position and held out your hand for alex to grab it

and he did, with an identical broken smile, he grabbed your hand and stood up as well as you guys walked out of your father's bedroom, not forgetting to quietly close it behind you cause, even in death, it would be rude to loudly close your father's door when he's trying to sleep.

- - -

this was a bit of a fun little thing to write but it was very sad so i do apologise for that however, i do like this chapter very well. i realised the first few of these chapters have been depressing so i need to write happier ones!

ok ily bye xx

wc; 6732

#supernatural cast #angst #a pinch of fluff if you squint #make you feel my love #misha collins #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #alexander calvert

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im-bush3d · 2 years ago

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I finally have something im currently writing.

#It’s going to be angst #it’s going to be sadness #Cyno #It’s going to be bittersweet #with a pinch of fluff #hopefully I’m able to convey these emotjons

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jack-ofspades · 2 years ago

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a morning between lovers

(diluven)

#diluven #diluc ragnvindr #venti #genshin impact #the inherent romanticism of waking up together #fluff #soft angst #like just a little pinch #the sequel to how do you wirte venti why is he like that #but with the edition: how do write diluc #man idk ! but i want them to be happy thats all i ask <3

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giggly-squiggily · 2 years ago

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Ahhh, I had a dream that would kill me if it were turned into a fic🤭. You are the single greatest T-word writer and KnY writer on this platform. If you're up to it, may you please write a fic with Lee! Muichiro and Ler! Shinobu?

P.s Get well soon!✌(If you're still sick)

Y’all are too sweet oh my goodness! I am humbled by such high praise! Thank you anons! Both for the kind words and the chance to write for our baby boy Mui! Since we’ve got similar prompts, I’ve decided to combine them! :D I hope you like it!

Cloud 9 (Taglist)

@myreygn, @thatbigbisexual29, @duckymcdoorknob, @wolfyeatstacos, @gladdygirl18, @baby-tickles2022, @cupcake-spice13, @backy-san

“Who’s a little cutie? You are, yes you are! Yes you are!” Mitsuri cooed over Muichiro, her fingers flying along his stomach and sides.

“My my, Tokito- I haven’t seen a smile that big in a while from you! Kanroji is right- you truly are adorable.” Shinobu smiled behind her free hand, the other giving his neck and chin a brother scribble.

“Plehehahahhahahshe wahhahahhahahit!” He cried, squirming here and there as the girls tickled him relentlessly, cheeks bright pink and eyes misty with laughter.

You're probably wondering how the young Hashira got himself into a situation like this.

Well, it all started a mere few hours prior…

~~~

“Kocho-san! I have everything we need for tonight!” Mitsuri all but ran to the smaller woman, a basket of freshly baked treats in hand. The aroma was enough to shake Muichiro out of his daydreaming, turning his attention to the pair a few short meters away.

“Wonderful, Kanroji-san! It looks like you’ve baked quite a bit- I’m sure Kanao and the others will be thrilled.” Shinobu clapped her hands together, just as moved by the sugary sweet smell it seemed. “I made sure to clear out my schedule this evening- we won’t be bothered by any stray patients or the boys.”

“Is it a bad thing I’m happy they won’t crash girls night?” Mitsuri winced slightly, shame coloring cheeks. “I love them but they’re so…”

“Loud? Obnoxious? Smelly?” Shinobu offered a variety of adjectives.

“Well…yes.” Mitsuri gave in, earning a delighted giggle from the other. “It’s alright though- from what I hear they’re all going camping tonight.”

Camping? Muichiro hadn’t got the memo.

Or perhaps he did but wasn’t paying attention…

“Did they already leave?” Shinobu asked, suddenly aware of the lack of noise in the area. “I wonder if Shinazugawa’s gonna fight a bear again.”

“I believe so- fight what now?” Mitsuri stared. “And what do you mean again?”

“Long story- Oh! Tokito-san! You’re still here?” Whoops- he’d been caught. The Mist Hashira was trying to make a quiet escape, freezing when Shinobu called out to him. Turning around, he tugged at the ends of his hair, trying for nonchalance. “Oh, hey ladies. I was just…heading home.”

“Home? What- Don’t tell me they didn’t invite you?” Mitsuri looked crossed, eyes wide with indignation. “How cruel!”

“No, I’m sure they did- I just forgot.” Muichiro shrugged, hating how unsure his voice sounded. Had they not invited him? And if they did- why did no one remind him? Normally someone would come around to get him.

Maybe it was one of those “Grown ups only” trips. They probably didn’t want a kid like him around.

The thought made him rather sad then.

“So you're just going home? On such a nice day?” Mitsuri sounded alarmed, the concern oddly making him feel more like a kid. “But that’s no fun!”

“I’ll be fine. I'm a Hashira. I’ll train.” He straightened, raising his chin. “Then I’ll…do other stuff. Like…” He racked his brain for adult-like activities, mind running blank. “Train some more.”

“That’s a lot of training to do in one night.” Mitsuri tilted her head curiously. “What happens when you get too tired?”

“Then I’ll take a nap. And get right back to it.”

“Sounds boring.” Shinobu commented, smiling apologetically when Muichiro blushed. “Forgive me, Tokito-san.” Pausing, she turned back to Mitsuri, pulling the other girl over and whispering in her ear. The Love Hashira’s eyes widened before a bright smile touched her lips, nodding. “That’s a great idea!”

“What is?” Muichiro asked, growing weary when they turned to him with smiles.

“Mui, do you wanna join us this evening?”

~~~

“I can’t believe they’d go off without you like that. When they get back, those boys aren’t getting a crumb of my treats!” Mitsuri huffed as she ran her fingers through Muichiro’s hair, gently untangling it one strand at a time. They were now sitting at the butterfly mansion, pillows and blankets spread out and a variety of Mitsuri’s snacks on display for whomever felt hungry. Changed into comfy pajamas, the youngest Hashira nibbled on a cookie while the pink haired girl began a braid, starting from the top of his head and working her way down.

“My my, I believe it will be the first time we see Rengoku not smiling if you do that.” Shinobu grinned with impish glee, a few bottles of nail polish to her left as she carefully worked an ombre of pink to green on her friend’s toenails. With her hair down, she looked less regal. It felt like Muichiro was sitting with an older sister rather than the team’s doctor. “He’s like a grumpy cat when he pouts. Have you ever noticed that?”

“Oh absolutely! It’s rare, but it’s so funny!” Mitsuri giggled. “He just pouts and hides away- eventually coming out if you shake some treats.”

“I bet if he could, he’d crawl up on a dresser.” Muichiro added, earning another round of giggles from the girls. It made him feel good.

“Oh man- I can totally see him curled up on there and glaring at everyone!” Mitsuri laughed so hard she snorted, nearly throwing off Shinobu’s handiwork with how hard she was giggling. “Kanroji, your toes!” She cried, dabbing at the mess.

“I’m sorry- blame Muichiro!” Mitsuri cried back, falling into him some as he gaped in shock. “He’s the one putting all these Cat-Rengoku images in my head!”

“He really is though! He’s got those big cat eyes.” Muichiro defended, earning another pig snort from the girl.

“Pfft, okay, okay! No more cat talk until I get this last toe done!” Shinobu shook her head with a snicker at Muichiro as she carried on her task. “You’re gonna have tie dye feet if you keep squirming like that.”

“Not the first time, probably won’t be the last either.” Mitsuri was back doing Muichiro’s hair, her touch gentle against his scalp. “Thanks for letting me braid your hair, Mui. It’s so soft and long! Has it always been this way?”

“I think so…I don’t really remember.” He admitted quietly, stuffing his face with another cookie before they could ask anymore questions. The memories of his past were still so foggy. He remembered bits and pieces- a face like his own, a hut in which he lived. What really stood out were the feelings. Most of the time, his past felt like an ache in his chest, familiar yet unknown at the same time. It was frustrating- having all this pain but no memory of what caused it.

“Tokito-san?” Shinobu’s voice shook him free from his internal ache, making him look up. He was sure she was going to ask him what was wrong. The “I’m fine” was on his lips, but she surprised him with her next question. “Would you like your nails painted?”

“What?” His nails? Painted?

“Oo, that would be so pretty!” Misturi gushed, excited by the idea. “We could be twins! Maybe not in color, but through Kocho’s handiwork! She’s really good at painting nails, as you can see!”

Sure enough, Mitsuri’s toenails were impeccable. Despite her earlier squirming, Shinobu’s hand stayed true.

“Sure. Go for it.” Muichiro shrugged, feeling good at the delighted expression Shinobu wore.

“Okay! What color would you like?”

~~~

“Do you think Iguro-san likes me?” Mitsuri asked not too long later- her hair loose and spread out like a fan beneath her.

“Of course he does. The way he looks at you says it all.” Shinobu reassured her, also on her back, her toes painted bright purple. “No one looks at someone with that much adoration for jokes.”

“Ador-what, he really does?” Mitsuri blushed, hands on her cheeks and eyes wide. “He looks at me like that?”

“Like you're the only person in the room.” Muichiro agreed, the third on his back, raising a hand to look at his newly painted nails. After his toes, they did his fingers. He rather liked the teal color Shinobu chose- it was sparkly. “Really- the only person in the world sometimes.”

Misturi made a noise of squealing delight, covering her face as she giggled, kicking her feet. “Oh, I wanna tell him I like him so bad! Maybe I’ll do it one day- I’m just too nervous right now!” She lowered her hands, tilting her head back so she could look at her friends properly. “What about you two? Anyone you guys fancy?”

“Fancy? Look at you, using Tengen-lingo.” Shinobu teased, earning a light tug at her hair. “I don’t have anyone I fancy right now. I’m too busy.”

“What about Tomioka?” Muichiro asked, making them pause. Then they were laughing. “Did I say something funny?”

“Ohohoho honey- Tomioka’s dating Shinazugawa!” Shinobu giggled out, laughing harder at his face of surprise. “You didn’t know that?”

“I thought it was pretty obvious myself- they’re not exactly subtle about it!” Mitsuri nodded in agreement, turning over so she could lay on her belly. “The other day they were trying so hard to make it seem like they arrived separately!”

“Yeah, like we couldn’t see the wrinkled Haori on Tomioka!” Shinobu’s eyes were impish once more. “When he came in the other day, he smelled like Ohage. He tried to claim he got it as a snack.”

“Oh I’m sure he got a snack.” Mitsuri winked, earning a swat from a wide eyed Shinobu.

“Wait- how long have they been dating?” Muichiro asked, curious now. He never really cared for Corp gossip, but he was here and things were getting interesting.

“I’d say about two months now? Though they’ve been pining for each other for way longer.” Shinobu nodded, satisfied with her answer. “Shinazugawa always blushed when Tomioka complimented him, even when he threw a fit after.”

“Such a tsun-tsun.” Mitsuri shook her head in mock disappointment. “And Tomioka-san can be rather clueless about these kinds of things. It’s no wonder they took so long to get together.”

“Tragically so.” Shinobu mock sighed, giggling with her friend.

Tsun-Tsun? Clueless? Muichiro was learning new sides to his fellow Hashira tonight.

“So, Mui…what about you, hon?” Mitsuri smiled, eyes twinkling. “Anyone you fancy?”

At first, Muichiro didn’t know what to say. Did he fancy anyone? Not in the Hashira of course, but…

Sharp eyes. Black hair that flowed to his shoulder. A scar that ran along his nose-

“Ooo, he’s got a crush!” Misturi squealed in delight when Muichiro blushed, eyes widening with shock. Did he? He had a crush? “Who is it? What are they like? Is it someone we know?”

“Now now, Kanroji, give him a second.” Shinobu slowed the other down gently as she turned to him. “Muichiro, have you ever had a crush on anyone before?”

“No. Not really.” He confessed, face burning. It felt weirdly shameful to say it outloud. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all!” Mitsuri jumped in, taking his hand in hers. “Crushes aren’t a mandatory thing; take Kyojuro for example. He’s never had a crush, and from what he’s told me, he’s never had romantic feelings for anyone. That doesn’t make him a bad person, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Exactly. And look at Kanroji-san. She crushes on everyone.” Shinobu smiled at her friend, grinning at her mock jaw drop. “That’s also perfectly valid.”

“Hey! I can’t help it- the world’s full of crushable people.” Mitsuri defended without much fight.

“The point is- when and if you develop a crush is completely up to you. There’s never a lifeframe on when you experience these things.” Shinobu reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “So- now that that’s clear; who’s the lucky person your heart is racing for?”

“I don’t really know his name. I met him while training with Gyomei a few times.” Muichiro looked at his and Mitsuri’s conjoined hands, the feeling of her gently squeezing it comforting. “He’s not really talkative, but the few times we have it’s really…nice.” He blushed, remembering how warm his crush’s voice was. “He has a scar on his nose, if that helps.”

“Genya!” The girls gushed, realization filling their voices.

“I think so…he’s great.” Muichiro smiled softly. Genya. He rather liked that name.

“That’s Shinazugawa’s brother, right?” Mitsuri asked.

“The younger of the two? Absolutely. He helps out here some days.” Shinobu nodded approvingly. “Sometimes I wish he was the Hashira one.”

“Oh, you're terrible, Kocho!”

“Not so- I’m just honest.”

Muichiro giggled in his sleeve, feeling lighter. A crush. He had a crush on Genya. And from the sounds of it, the girls approved. It was really exciting.

“Oi, did you just throw a pillow at me?” Shinobu’s yelp of surprise brought him back to present time. Mitsuri had her own pillow in hand, giggling like a gremlin.

“Oh I did! Come at me, Kocho!” She declared, squealing when the pillow in question smacked her right in the face.

It took less than five seconds before the duel broke out- pillows smacking one another as the girls screamed in laughter. Muichiro originally planned on using his own as defense, but before long he was just as into it as them, smacking whomever was in reach and yelping when he got smacked in return.

Of course- nothing ever stayed on track in fights like this. Mitsuri tossed away her pillow before lunging at Shinobu, knocking her into a pile of soft things. “Kanro-jihihihihihiihhiihihi!” Her cry of surprise turned into laughter as the taller girl attacked her with tickles, fingers flying across her stomach and sides with relentless speed.

“This is what you get, Kocho! Laugh for me-hehehehehehhehe!” Shinobu was quick, her own hands latching onto Mitsuri’s sides and squeezing- making her shriek in mirth. “Kohohohoohochoohohoohohoho!”

Muichiro sat back with amused eyes, giggling behind his pillow as he watched the pair tumble about, limbs flying and squeals spilling past their lips as they went to tickle the other. Whenever he saw Tengen and Rengoku having a tickle fight, he thought it was kinda funny. The girls doing it? It was downright hilarious.

That was, until they turned their sights onto him.

“Get Mui!” Mitsuri cried, tackling him. Shinobu was right beside her.

~~~

That’s where we find our dear Mist Hashira now, squirming and giggling helplessly as twenty fingers attack his torso, going for all his tickle spots.

“Aww, listen to him laugh! Mui, you are so cute!” Mitsuri cooed, giggling along with him as she gently pressed into his ribs, her talents as an older sister shining through each new scratch and prod.

“He’s rather precious, isn’t he? Sweet Tokito-san; I bet Genya would drop dead on the spot hearing you laugh so much!” Shinobu winked, grinning as Muichiro felt his face heat up more. He was starting to regret telling them about that.

“Plehehahhahahahse, stahhahahhap!” Muichiro wheezed, arching with a cackle as Mitsuri slipped her hand under him, clawing lightly at his back. “Nohohohohohot thehehehhere!”

“Aww, does someone have a ticklish back? Kanroji, flip him over!” Shinobu instructed. The taller girl wasted no time, pulling him into her lap as Shinobu shuffled over.

“Tokito-san, what does this say?” She then began her devious torture.

“AH! Ahehaahhahahhahahaha! Kohohoohohochohoohohoo!” A single finger dragged along his spine, writing out letters along his back. Each swipe made his brain fuzzy, breaking his focus. “Iihihiihihi dohoohohhohon’t knoohoohohohow!”

“Wrong! Try again! I’ll go slower this time.” It was worse slow. Even with the fabric of his pajamas in the way, it tickled like crazy. “Let’s start with ‘C’....’U’....”

“C-Cuhuuhuhuuhuhuhute?” He gasped out, earning a cheer.

“Right! And who’s cute, Tokito-san?” She traced the rest of the word, making him arch more.

“Y-Yohoohohohu twoohohohoho?” He guessed, earning more gushing.

“Such a charmer!” Mitsuri giggled.

“Isn’t he? Correct, but not the answer I’m looking for!” Shinobu scratched along the center of his spine, earning a snort. “Who’s cute, Tokito-san?”

“Fihiihhihine, fiihiihihine I’m cuuhuhuhuhuhte!” He gave in, relieved when the tickling finally stopped. Gasping for breath, he rolled gently off of Mitsuri, tucked between them as he tried to recover. “Thahahhaht was evihiihihihil!”

“Thank you.” Shinobu replied, making them laugh.

“You really are a cutie, Muichiro. Never forget that.” Mitsuri ran her hands through his bangs, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. Anyone else would have gotten smacked away, but Muichiro found he rather liked the attention he got from the girls.

~~~

“Thanks for inviting me…I appreciate it.” He whispered softly, lying on his futon later that night. After the snacks were finished, more gossip was spilled, and yet another random tickle fight- this time Mitsuri being the one targeted; they were all sprawled out once more, this time with the intention of sleeping.

“Of course, Mui. We didn’t want you to be alone.” Mitsuri reached out and squeezed his hand.

“I would have been fine…” He began, realizing the lie as he spoke it. He wouldn’t have been. Not really. Sure, he’d get over it eventually-but the sting would have remained. Going home alone would have felt isolating.

“Well, I wouldn’t have. Not after what happened.” Shinobu shuffled over so her arm brushed his other side, taking his free hand. “I’m glad you came. Tonight was really fun.”

“It was! We should do this more often. And you can come too, Mui.” Mitsuri nodded, her voice growing sleepier by the minute.

“You're an honorary girl’s night member.” Shinobu agreed.

“Thanks, girls.” Muichiro smiled, pretending the blur in his vision was from sleepiness. He closed his eyes and settled in for a rest.

He was glad to have met the people he’d met.

I hope this was good!

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joelsgoldrush · 2 months ago

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“never is a promise” | 12.4k

old man!logan x f!reader

SUMMARY: You are everything Logan isn’t: sweet, trouble-free, much younger—and, to top it off, Charles' caregiver.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ mentions of drinking. angst. some fluff. old man!logan x caregiver!reader. implied age gap (reader’s in her twenties). miscommunication. slow burn. pining. reader is shorter than logan and has long hair. charles in his cupid era. petnames. minor injuries. wound tending. mentions of blood. virgin!reader. dirty talk. cum shots. fingering. handjobs. oral sex (m receiving). loving sex. sex with a lot of feelings (is that a tag?). unprotected p in v.

A/N: i just want to fall in love with him. that’s it. that’s the reason why i wrote this long ass fic 😭 while doing so, i had “never is a promise” by fiona apple and “cool about it” by boygenius on repeat. give them a try if you haven’t listened to them (your lives will be CHANGED) (also, thank you for reading <3)

No matter how often you play chess with Charles, you never manage to beat him.

“You’ve been staring at that knight for five minutes. It’s not going anywhere, I promise.”

Chuckling at his sarcasm, you fold your hands in your lap, lifting your eyebrows in mock surrender. “Okay, I get it. You’re the master of chess,” leaning back in the chair, you cross one leg over the other. “Can we play something else?”

“I’m quite entertained, thank you,” Charles says, sliding the board closer to you across the table. “Your turn.”

“How is it that you don’t get tired of this game?” you mutter under your breath, eyes fixed on the board as you weigh your options, hovering your hand indecisively over the chess pieces.

“Please do something before I’m forced to make a dash for the toilet.” He hangs his head, pinching the bridge of his nose—a telltale sign of one of his irritable days.

His words spur you into action, encouraging you to finally slide the knight into position. You glance up, meeting his gaze with a hint of challenge. “You go now.”

Charles doesn’t hesitate, and he moves a bishop. “Check.”

Fuck. You hadn’t seen that coming. “I’d prefer to walk away with my pride,” you joke, pushing your chair back and pretending to lose interest in the board.

That makes him smirk, a barely there grin dangling on the corners of his wrinkled lips. The truth is, you wouldn’t stop playing for anything in the world—not even if this old man kicks your ass every single time he suggests playing chess. “You’re not out of the game yet.”

Quietness settles over the tank while you allow yourself some time to come up with a new strategy. After a moment, you decide to go for a pawn, using it to block his bishop.

He doesn’t stop grinning, studying your move with an amused glint in his blue eyes. “Not bad, but you’ve left your king exposed.”

You gape at the board, your fragile confidence faltering for a split second. "I still have some pieces in play."

Charles nods, his brows drawing together in thoughtful consideration. "True. But sometimes, it’s not about how many pieces you have left—” He reaches out, carefully sliding his queen across the board. "It’s about where you place them.” He relaxes, hunching over, his eyes searching for yours. A smile that’s all teeth welcomes you. “Checkmate."

“Damn.” You blow out your cheeks, your gaze tracing the path of his queen. Somehow, he’s trapped your king with no easy way out.

He leans back with a satisfied grin. “That’s three games in a row. My suggestion is that you start rethinking your strategy.”

“Or maybe you’re just a better player,” you admit, a mix of frustration and admiration palpable in your tone. “No more chess for today, though.” You stand up from your seat, gathering the board and chess pieces. As usual, they find their place under Charles’ bed, and you turn back to him, beaming with delight. “I think you owe me one after all this.”

“You’re a terrible loser, my dear,” he says, his eyes twinkling as they take you in. “Reminds me of someone I know.”

At that exact moment, you hear the familiar creak of the tank’s door opening, followed by a cough you immediately recognize.

Without thinking, you straighten your back as Logan steps into the room. Charles notices it, but says nothing in return.

It was an infatuation—or at least, that’s what you try to convince yourself of. Logan is a very good-looking man, probably the most handsome you’ve ever laid eyes on.

The fact that you live with him doesn’t help at all. You think that if you only saw him occasionally, this—this anxiety that grips you whenever he’s around or when you hear his voice—wouldn’t happen in the first place.

Whether it’s good or bad luck, you’ve been sleeping under the same roof as him for over a year, and the crush you’ve had since the first time you exchanged words with him only seems to grow stronger with each passing day.

What you figure out over time is that men like Logan aren’t the dating type. He’s never brought anyone home, and for that, you’re secretly grateful. The last thing you need is to see him with another woman—thank you very much. Still, the thought gnaws at you: he could easily be meeting someone elsewhere.

In fact, it’s more than likely that he’s hooking up with other people. It doesn’t have to be at—

Alright. You don’t need this either.

Logan’s heavy footsteps resonate even louder, his presence more imposing, and he seems especially pissed off. Then again, he always has that demeanor—angry, grumpy, locked in a constant battle with life.

But today… today, you haven’t seen him this troubled in weeks.

“Look who’s joined us,” Charles mumbles, steering his motorized chair to meet him halfway. The chair bumps against Logan’s legs with a thud that sounds almost cartoonish, and Charles scrunches up his nose, his nostrils flaring in disgust. “You smell like shit.”

“Yeah, I missed you too, Pop,” Logan grunts, shoving his hand into the pocket of his suit, searching for something. That’s when you notice the bloodstains on his shirt, smeared across his chest, and the missing buttons at the top. Your breath catches in your throat, and you bite your tongue to keep from asking any foolish questions. “They gave me new ones,” he mutters, looking you in the eye as he tosses the pill bottle at you.

You leap forward to catch it mid-air, your heart skipping a beat. Logan holds your gaze for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before giving a slight nod and turning on his heel to storm out of the tank.

When your attention goes back to Charles, you see how his eyes remain locked on the pills you’re holding, his head lowering in defeat. “He’s waiting for me to die.”

“Don’t say that.” You squat to be at his eye level, momentarily hiding the meds from his view. Still, you struggle to make him shift his gaze. “He’s taking care of you, which is something completely different.” You place your hand on top of his knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You’ve had this same conversation innumerable times, yet each time feels like the first. He offers you a melancholic but knowing look as you softly say: “You have to take them, Charles. I’m sorry.”

He raises a hand, his trembling fingers curling around your wrist, examining you, trying to find an answer in the lines. “Don’t be. At least you’re here.”

“I’m sure Logan’s tired; that’s why he doesn’t stay any longer. Haven’t you seen him?” You rise to your feet, moving behind him to guide his chair. The tank sort of has a chill in the air, metallic walls that seem to press in around you both. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to play chess with him. Rest assured I’ll always let you win,” you murmur next to his ear, succeeding in eliciting a chuckle from him.

After that, you help him with his daily routine. Charles isn’t heavy, and you manage to get him onto the bed, his frail body yielding to your gentle support.

You slip the rest of his body beneath the blankets, tucking him in carefully before handing him two pills and a glass of water. “All the way down, okay? And I wanna see that tongue after you swallow them.”

If looks could kill, you’d be six feet under, covered in dust and dirt. Charles sticks his tongue out, putting the glass down on his nightstand. “Happy?”

“You’ve got no idea how much,” you say, adjusting the covers. The silence of the tank surrounds you both, and you can sense his gaze lingering on you. You flick your eyes up, furrowing your brows as you sit in the small space beside him on the mattress. “What is it?”

“You fancy him, don’t you?”

Freezing on the spot, your eyes narrow. “I—I don’t—” you trail off, pushing the words out with some effort. “Are you trying to read my mind?”

His whole chest rumbles with laughter under your touch. He finds your hand once again, intertwining your fingers with his. “Don’t be so naïve. I don’t need my abilities to see the way you get all flustered when he passes by. Why do you think they say older people are wiser?” he inquires, his lips forming a straight line. “We’ve lived too much not to notice the most common things, my dear—and let me tell you that you do a horrible job at pretending.”

“Of course I like him. Logan’s a good man, he keeps us safe.” You glance down at your hands—his, weak and delicate, in evident contrast to your own. “I’m not in love with him, Cupid.”

“Oh, you should’ve seen him years ago,” Charles says, his eyes glazing over as he drifts back into the past. His body remains here, within the confines of the room, but his mind is elsewhere, somewhere far away. You give his hand a gentle tug, trying to bring him back. “When we took him in, he was pursuing a career as a cage fighter. I had never seen anyone like him in all my years of educating mutants. He was so… different from the rest. Reserved, didn’t talk much at first. But I gave him a family, I—” His voice falters, overcome by his own emotions.

That’s when you realize he’s no longer with you, his gaze unfocused, looking around the tank as if seeing it for the first time. It pains you to see him like this, completely disoriented and disconnected from reality.

“Why are we here? What has happened to the rest? Has he told you anything?”

These are the questions he asks every day without fail—questions that you can’t, nor want, to answer. Since you’re not exactly sure the explanation would soothe his troubled mind, you feel forced to play dumb.

“I don’t know, Charles. We don’t really talk that much, Logan and I.” You stand from the bed, not without pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead before. You smile at him, hoping he doesn’t realize the gesture lacks authenticity. “Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll let you know if I hear anything worth sharing.”

Once you close the door behind you, you settle back into it, releasing a shaky breath. Being Charles’ caregiver was a challenging task, especially in moments like these, which required immense internal strength not to crumble in front of him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you adjust to the harsh sunlight, fighting to regain your composure. When you finally scan the area, the only thing that meets your eye is the deserted smelting plant you now call home.

You open the sliding door, the noise breaking the stillness and forcing Logan to look up from his plate. He’s eating like a starved man, casually drinking from a small bottle of whisky on the table, already half of it gone. After those long drives through the nights and the early hours, he always returns hungry.

You pour yourself a cup of coffee, setting it on the stove to heat. Neither of you says anything for a few minutes: he eats, and you sip your hot coffee in silence, not wishing to disturb the breakable peace that hangs by a thread.

Thinking this is how the noon will continue, you begin to walk toward your room until he clears his throat, stopping you in your tracks. That simple gesture makes you whirl around, anticipating something.

“This is delicious,” he acknowledges, pointing to his plate with his fork, the rice with veggies and meat you cooked last night nearly gone. Dipping his chin, he adds in a low voice: “Thank you.”

You’re taken aback by his unexpected willingness to engage in conversation. Moments like these are as rare as seeing Halley’s Comet, so you proceed with caution, as if you’re approaching a skittish animal—one wrong move, and the opportunity is lost.

Setting your mug down on the table, you sit on the chair opposite him. Deep down, the hammering of your heart echoes in your ears, and you hope his sharp senses don’t pick up on it.

“I’m glad you liked it. Charles ate two bowls of it,” you explain, unable to suppress a smile. Logan hums, tilting his head to the side as he keeps devouring his meal. You take another sip of your coffee, blowing on it in a futile attempt to cool it down. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Huh?”

“Charles. He—he asks to see you a lot,” you begin, carefully choosing your words. “I know it’s none of my business, but I think it would make him feel better if you spent more time with him.”

The sound of a distant train rumbles through the walls, amplifying the silence between you. Logan doesn’t utter a word; instead, he puts down his fork, the clinking noise making you jump slightly, the intensity of his stare becoming overwhelming.

“You’re right about one thing—what I do or don’t do is none of your goddamn business.”

Just like that, the buildup dissolves in a matter of seconds. You bite down on the inside of your cheek, nodding absentmindedly. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. How stupid were you to think he might want to talk to you? “I just—I want to be of help.”

“Just take care of Charles. That’s all you gotta worry about, all I’ve ever asked you to do,” he barks, clenching his jaw, and you can tell he means each word.

When he talks to you in this tone, it makes you think more rationally—it reminds you that you don’t really know him, and yet you agreed to work for him in exchange for a roof over your head and food on your plate. He’s not your friend, and he’s excellent at making that crystal clear every time you cross the line.

Logan pushes you away like you’re nothing, like you’re just another of the many burdens he has to deal with.

It should be enough to send you running to your room, but despite the knot tightening in your belly, you somehow remain rooted in place, your eyes sharp like daggers.

As another train echoes in the silence, you come to terms with the knowledge that one more question will drive him away.

And sometimes, you speak before you think, as you do now: “Whose blood is that on your shirt?” you ask, voice steady and cold. Perhaps it’s you who wants him to leave this time.

He shakes his head with offense, frustration crinkling his eyes. “I don’t need this shit,” he groans, his gruff voice loud enough for you to hear it. He gets up from the table, placing his plate in the sink without much delicacy. At last, he heads to his room, slamming the door with a deafening thud that reverberates through the entire place.

It’s not a crush, that voice deep inside you insists as you’re left alone in the kitchen. And it’s valid: a mere crush wouldn't cause this kind of pain, wouldn’t make your chest feel this heavy and your limbs numb.

Whenever he leaves, he takes a part of you with him, never to be returned. By now, you’re certain he’s stolen all those missing pieces from you, and you’ve got no idea how much longer you can endure before you shatter completely.

You seem to have won this battle, but what you end up losing is far greater than any fleeting gratification.

Loving Logan is maddening, to say the least.

To this day, you still recall every detail of the night that altered the course of your life—the night you met Logan.

The memories are rather vivid in your mind, and you revisit that moment on nights like these, when you can’t sleep and the past appears to be much more appealing than your present.

Pressing your cheek against the cold pillow, you let your eyelids drop, reconstructing the full scene behind your sealed eyes.

It was your third week working at that restaurant, and you were still getting used to its daily rhythm. Waitressing was working wonders for you—you had a good memory, and people often gave you generous tips.

Everything was going well: you were the only waitress on shift, and your boss had left for a brief errand, promising he would be back soon.

During this lull, a group of men entered the restaurant, already drunk or high—probably both. They sat at one of the empty tables, immediately calling for you.

One of them, a tall blonde, was the loudest. “Come here, baby.” He pointed his finger at you, gesturing for you to approach him. The nickname felt wrong rolling off his tongue, and as you obliged, he shoved a handful of bills into the front pocket of your apron. He clutched your waist, dragging you nearer. “I’m getting married tomorrow. Think you can do something special for me?”

His friends cheered him on, laughing and pounding their fists on the table. You managed to slip from his grasp and asked them what they wanted to order.

While they took their time deciding, you noticed a limousine parked in the distance, probably the vehicle that had brought these morons here. The driver rolled down his window, hanging his arm from the armrest.

Though you couldn’t see his features, the interaction alone was enough to make you look away.

An hour went by, and the men refused to take off. They’d eaten, drunk, and danced—and driven you crazy in the process. The rest of the customers had decided to leave once they realized the night was far from finishing for the noisy group of friends. You apologized, feeling incapable of doing anything to change the situation.

Your sanity felt threatened as you turned off the TV, ending the sixth round of karaoke, their shouts and hoots ringing in your ears.

“We’re closing in ten minutes,” you informed them, starting to collect their dirty plates and glasses. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the blonde man standing right beside you, his piercing blue eyes burning holes through your skin. He attempted to graze your shoulder, but you quickly stepped back, keeping a safe distance between you. “How do you plan to pay? Cash or credit?”

“How about with a kiss, huh?” He inched forward, his face dangerously close to yours. Unaccustomed to being approached in this manner, you ducked your head, unsure of your next move. His breath reeked of beer and vodka, a horrendous combination that had you nearly gagging on the spot.

As he backed you against the counter, one of his large hands cradled your face, urging you to make eye contact with him. “I swear I can be very, very nice. You haven’t given me the chance to show it yet.”

“Hey, pal. You said one hour.”

The first time you heard his voice—low and husky, the kind that could send shivers down your spine.

Your eyes locked with Logan’s, your pleading gaze seemingly stirring something in him as he got a grip on the situation. His brows bumped together in a scowl, and you didn’t miss how he limped as he made his way into the restaurant.

There was something about him—how he moved, his stance—that felt strangely familiar.

“We’re busy in here, chauffeur,” the blue-eyed man protested, slightly losing his balance while still holding your cheek.

Your rescuer squared off against him, their noses practically brushing. He worked his jaw, his half-lidded, tired eyes taking in the sight of you. “I’m no fortune-teller, but I don’t think she’s into you, bub.”

“Come again?” the blonde guy released you, much more concerned with defending his bruised pride. “What’s the matter, Grandpa? Is it past your bedtime?”

“I want you to pay me for the ride, and for waiting a fucking hour and a half for you and your friends,” the older man spat, jerking his thumb toward the limousine. “I’m not taking you back to the hotel. You might want to start looking’ for another driver.”

The group of men closed in around him, their anger bubbling. “That’s not cool, dude. We had a deal,” another voice snapped, but Logan couldn’t seem to care less.

“Well, the deal’s off. And leave the girl alone, will you?” he retorted, his tone dripping with disdain. “So, where’s my money?”

He couldn’t have predicted it. One of the men behind him swung a plate, striking him in the nape and catching him off guard. Logan collapsed to the floor, clutching his head in pain. The others took the opportunity and began to pummel him, kicks and punches landing wherever they could.

You screamed at the top of your lungs, desperately trying to intervene. You grabbed at their clothes, digging your fingernails into every patch of exposed skin you could find, but they shoved you aside with brutal force. Your back slammed against the nearest wall, a jolt of sudden pain making you wince.

The blood in your veins turned to ice as you watched, paralyzed with fear that they might kill him. But then—

Three metallic claws emerged from his knuckles, and he used them to push himself upright. Despite the blood smeared across his nose and mouth, he managed to stand, his quickened breathing coming out in short puffs.

The men backed away in shock, leaving him alone amidst the chaos.

You stared at him, your hands trembling as recognition dawned: it was The Wolverine.

The familiarity, the sense of having seen him before, all made sense now. It all flooded back in a rush—the comics, the news, the rumors.

“Get the hell outta my sight,” he growled, pressing his claws against the fabric of the blue-eyed man’s jacket, making him flinch.

You couldn’t make out what you were feeling. It wasn’t fear, but intrigue. Even as the group of men fled the restaurant, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. At first, he avoided your gaze, focusing on his shoes as he retracted his claws.

Once the immediate danger had passed, he slumped forward, groaning. You gently draped one of his arms around your shoulders and helped him into a nearby chair. His weight felt like a thousand bricks, but you accomplished to get him seated.

He rubbed a shaky hand over his graying beard, his face twisting in pain as you pressed a makeshift towel of napkins against his lower lip, where blood continued to flow.

Taking the towel from you, he continued tending to himself. You scanned his features, scrutinizing him.

“You are…” you began, the words feeling inadequate at the moment.

Logan nodded hesitantly, his silence confirming your suspicion. “Yeah, that’s me,” he tugged at his shirt collar, exposing some of his chest hair, fresh blood staining his work clothes. Your gaze fell there, and you quickly chided yourself.

The poor guy was bleeding, and you were checking him out. Jeez.

Kneeling by his side, you introduced yourself. “Thank you for stepping up for me,” you said afterward, and he shook his head dismissively. “They were a pain in the ass. I don’t know how you even managed to drive them here.”

“Money’s money, darlin’. Doesn’t matter where it comes from, as long as—” he was interrupted by a coughing fit, and your concern deepened as you continued to spot more of his injuries. “I’ll heal,” he reassured you, his expression softening in an attempt to calm your anxiety.

Your eyes pierced his with an intensity that seemed to unsettle him. Warmth crept into your cheeks as a question surfaced in your mind: “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“You don’t owe me anything, kid,” he replied, a hint of gruffness in his voice.

“But I could help you,” you persisted, your voice betraying a touch of eagerness. Stifling a cough, you tried to mask your enthusiasm, and sighed. “Are you hungry? I could cook you something, or pour you a drink. We’ve got plenty of liquor—”

Logan interrupted you, placing the towel down on the table. “Have you ever taken care of an old person?”

Tilting your head, you considered his question. “How old?”

“Ninety-somethin’.”

You nodded, memories of the events from years ago surfacing. “I lived with my grandparents for most of my life. When they fell ill, I spent a lot of time with them. My mom had to work long hours, and I—well, the point is, I did take care of them,” you paused for an instant, his expression unreadable, though you perceived a slight relaxation in his posture, as if your answer had put him at ease. “I like being around old people. They have stories to tell,” you added, a genuine smile breaking through, “and I’m a good listener.”

“Then I suppose there is somethin’ you can help me with.”

And so began a new chapter in your life.

The very next day, you were moving in with him and Charles. It took several weeks for the latter to warm up to you and get used to your presence.

Initially, he was hopeful that you might also be a mutant, but his disappointment was palpable when he discovered you lacked any supernatural gifts. Leaving that aside, he valued your company.

“The shots mellow the seizures. The pills keep them from happening,” Logan had once explained, detailing the medications Charles needed. You recalled the psychic attack from a year ago and its consequences, but that wasn’t a topic to be discussed with Logan, and you understood why.

“Where do you get these?” you asked, examining the bottle of pills with a curious glance. “Without a prescription, I mean.”

“Oh, you don’t wanna know.”

Soon, you got adapted to the whole package: his unpredictable temperament, his mood swings, and his nightmares. Logan Howlett was a puzzle box of surprises, one you could never quite unlock.

Fast forward to the present day, you realize it must be already late, because Logan’s heading to work. You stand on your tiptoes, peering out of your bedroom window. Your humid breath fogs the glass as his eyes find yours, and then he slips into the vehicle, blending into the shadows of the night.

The distant rumble of his limousine signals his departure, your forehead pressed against the glass, as if somehow that could take you with him.

There goes another piece of you.

You find yourself shaving Charles the moment worry takes over your senses.

He’s retelling a familiar story: that one time Logan, Scott, Jean, and Storm saved Rogue from Magneto.

On any other day, you wouldn’t mind listening to his stories, despite having heard them countless times. This one in particular is your favorite.

But today, it’s hard to focus on it, even more when one of its main characters is missing in action.

Logan hasn’t come back home yet.

It’s been an entire day, and he’s usually back by morning to rest. Now, after having cooked dinner and helping Charles shower, you’ve run out of distractions. There’s nothing left to occupy your thoughts, nothing to ease the building anxiety gnawing at you.

You texted him multiple times—no answer. You even called—also nothing. Every time Charles asks if Logan’s at work or sleeping, the knot in your chest tightens. That’s when your mind starts to spiral, and you’re convinced you’ll burst any moment.

After putting him to bed, you pace the kitchen, picking at your nails and biting the raw skin around them. The sting of pain is there, but it’s faint, not enough to overshadow the real fear clawing at your insides.

All these what-ifs that storm through your mind make you feel nauseous: what if he’s dead? What would you do with Charles? How would you provide for both of you without a salary?

Just as you’re about to dial his number again, Logan materializes out of thin air through the sliding door.

He’s got a dark bruise under his right eye, and his once-white shirt is littered with bloodstains. You stare at him—he’s limping harder than usual, each of his movements slower.

Walking towards him, your hands cup his face. His skin feels rough beneath your fingers, and he lets out a grunt as you graze his split lip. “What happened?”

“They were followin’ me. Had been doin’ so for a few days now,” he says, making no effort to pull away.

“Did you kill them?” you wonder out loud, still inspecting his injuries. The pad of your thumb hovers inches away from his bruised mouth.

Covering your hands with his, Logan ducks his head, closing his eyes for a brief second and swallowing thickly. “Somebody had to do it, sweetheart.”

You limit yourself to a nod, because you know there’s nothing you can reproach him for. You were no stranger to the idea of him killing. It was an implicit truth between you.

“I thought—I was so scared, and I—” your voice wavers, and you feel your eyes watering, the tears prickling at the corners. “I thought you—”

He doesn’t let you finish, already knowing how it would end. “Hey, look at me,” he’s the one touching you now, tilting your chin up. Your eyes keep flickering over the cuts and old scars you spot on his cheeks, his neck. Logan forces a pained smile, unable to hide his discomfort. “It’s fine, I’m alright. Just a bit fucked up, but nothin’ you haven’t seen before,” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood, and it works. You bite your lower lip, suppressing your grin. “I always come back, don’t I?”

“But you can barely stand,” you whisper, not sure why you’re speaking so softly. You make him turn his back to you, helping him shrug off his coat. As expected, remnants of dried blood decorate his shirt like highlights. “Let me help you.”

“I don’t—”

”There are cuts all over your back. And your chest—you’re not healing properly,” you say, turning him to face you again. The look on his face suggests only one thing: he’s about to throw in the towel. “You don’t have to do everything on your own.” You think you’ve never been this close before, his proximity both intoxicating and comforting at the same time. “Please.”

He ends up giving in to your persuasion, allowing you to guide him to the bathroom. Logan sits down on the toilet, watching you gather supplies to clean his wounds. When you come back, he’s still staring at you, his eyelashes fluttering together each time he blinks.

Starting with his cheek, you press a damp towel to his skin, and he hisses. It takes everything in you not to flinch in sympathy.

“How’s Charles?” he asks, probably trying to distract himself as you continue to clean his wounds, the towel darkening with his blood over time.

“He’s doing great. Asked for you a lot, actually,” you take a look at his jaw, where one shallow cut is already starting to fade away thanks to his healing ability, something that never fails to amaze you.

Logan hums, tilting his head. ”I’ll check on him in the morning,” he murmurs, and you flash him a quick smile, finishing with his face. He’s now free of dirt and blood, his brows furrowing as he pauses to collect his thoughts. “The other day, when we talked—”

You cut him off, turning to the sink as you rinse the towel, watching the water get red. “Forget it.”

“No, it wasn’t okay—how I acted,” he stands up from the toilet, and you feel his presence behind you, the alarm inside your head going off as the space between you shrinks. “I know you just want what’s best for him. For us. I’m sorry I was a jerk,” his voice comes out even huskier at this time of the night, sounding afraid of waking someone, even though it’s just the two of you here.

“Apology accepted,” you swirl around to meet his gaze, only to find yourself nose-to-nose with him, and you lean back against the sink, your spine pressed into the cool surface.

Logan places his hands on both sides of the vanity, caging you with his body. Like the most beautiful tree, he stands tall in front of you, and you take a deep breath, getting drunk on his distinctive scent. “Are you… okay?”

You watch as he lowers his head, pursing his lips before muttering: “Imma need you to do something more for me,” he says, almost pleading, and you can’t avoid the amount of thoughts that rush into your mind.

Gone was your decency when you had to deal with him.

That’s when he looks up to find your eyes, his harsh expression evolving into a more vulnerable one. “Have you ever removed a bullet?”

If you thought listening to Logan’s nightmares was painful, nothing could have prepared you for the sounds he makes while you pull several bullets from his wounds.

He sits shirtless in front of you, grunting at each of your careful movements. As you remove one bullet lodged near his ribs, Logan practically yells, and you rest your cheek against his, desperate to ease his suffering.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Almost done,” you whisper into his ear, hoping your words might bring him some relief. He lets his head fall forward, resting it on your shoulder, trusting you enough to tend to his injuries, his thoughts drifting elsewhere.

It takes you half an hour to clean both his chest and back, but Logan doesn’t complain. When you’re finished, he goes straight to his room, flopping onto his bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. You see the way his chest rises and falls rapidly, his breathing still labored.

You wish you could lie beside him, even just for a few minutes, but your last shred of self-control stops you from doing such a thing.

“Get some sleep,” you say leaning against the doorframe, your advice sounding more like a plea. He looks exhausted, dark circles sunken beneath his eyes.

Logan lets out a bitter laugh. “Do I look that bad?”

You roll your eyes at that, your fingers curling around the doorknob. Glancing back at him over your shoulder, you catch something in his look—a glimmer of something you struggle to put into words, but you decide not to look further into it. “Good night, Logan.”

“Good night, darlin’—and thank you,” he murmurs, holding your gaze until the door shuts between you.

Then you sprint to your room, gently closing the door before biting back a smile, replaying the last hour in your mind. How close to you he had been, how comfortable he seemed around you.

You hadn’t just crossed lines—you’d broken them. You almost pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

Somehow, your racing mind calms down, and you fall asleep, one hand tucked beneath the pillow, the other resting against your chest.

You’re a light sleeper. The sound of something shattering wakes you, leaving you startled and disoriented.

Dawn is just breaking, the first rays of sunlight slipping through your window. You sit up, pricking up your ears as you scratch the back of your head, listening attentively.

Logan’s voice filters into your room—he lets out a string of profanities, and you stifle a giggle, throwing off your covers and putting on a sweatshirt that matches your pajamas.

Barefoot, you walk down the hall, stopping at the kitchen’s entrance. Logan is kneeling beside the table, gathering the shards of a broken mug. It seems like he’s just gotten out of the shower, tiny droplets of water trailing down his neck.

“That was my favorite one,” you say in a low voice, teasing him. His back muscles flex under the material of his shirt, and he turns to look at you, his expression a silent apology. “I take it you’re not using your glasses?”

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Rising to his feet, he grunts, digging his fingers into his lower back with a grimace. “They’re called readers for a reason.”

You decide to let him have that one, grabbing a new mug from the shelf and handing it to him. He accepts it, thanking you, and fills it with freshly brewed coffee.

“Was it a nightmare?” you ask, watching as he sinks into the couch, spreading his thighs apart with a sigh while you take a seat at the table instead.

Logan gives a nod, sipping some of his coffee. “At least I slept for a few hours.”

“Are you really going to stay up? It’s pretty early.” You stretch your arms over your head, a yawn escaping you before you can hold it back.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

You hesitate for a moment, but then comes your question: “Can I join you?” You prop your elbows on your knees, any trace of sleepiness now gone with the wind.

He squints his eyes, his unrelenting stare boring into you. “Feel free.”

So here you are, studying him as he drinks his coffee, his fingers wrapped tightly around the ceramic. There are so many things you want to ask him—about how he’s feeling, if his wounds have healed—but it seems you’ve entered a silent staring contest without even knowing it.

Not that you mind him looking at you—you just want to know the reason why.

You snort, and he arches a brow. “Do I have something on my face?” You decide to ask him, straightening your back.

“I guess I can’t help but wonder why you agreed to all of this,” he says, setting the mug down with a soft clink. By this, you understand he’s referring to being Charles’ caregiver and leaving your old job behind. “I mean—you could be doing better things with your life. Why would you choose to do this?”

“I told you before: I wanted to help you,” you shrug, trying to keep your tone light even as your stomach tightens with nerves. You watch as Logan folds his arms, the muscles of his biceps becoming more visible. “Plus, I love being around Charles.

“I don’t think people your age would be that interested in spending their days like this,” he says, and you toy with a lock of your hair, wrapping it around your finger.

“Well, good thing I’m not like most people my age then.”

His silence hangs heavy in the air until he speaks again. “What do you mean by that?”

“You know that feeling when life seems like a race? And you just have to keep up with certain things that everybody else is doing, or you’ll be left behind?” You pause, the words falling more naturally than you’d expected.

Logan nods, making it seem like he understands what you’re trying to say. Whether he truly does it or not, you don’t know.

“When my friends started going to parties, getting boyfriends… I couldn’t. My family wouldn’t let me. And even when I could, it felt like it wasn’t really what I wanted.”

Inhaling sharply, you stop yourself. The conversation suddenly feels far too personal.

“You never had a boyfriend?” He gets more comfortable on the couch, his voice gruff as he rubs his chin, waiting for a reply.

A familiar heat settles between your legs. “I went out with some guys, but it never led to anything serious,” you say, your cheeks getting warmer the more details you share with him. “I guess I wasn’t the kind of girl they were looking for,” you add, not missing the way his lips twitch momentarily.

“How could they not want you?”

“They didn’t think like you do.”

“That’s because they were boys, not men,” he mutters, his gaze dropping to your hands before returning to your face. “Did they treat you right, those boys?”

Swallowing hard, you can hardly register the uncertainty in your own voice. “I mean… yes, I think they did. They were nice to me.”

There it is—the faintest hint of a smirk dancing on his lips. “Nice doesn’t mean good, though.”

You dig your nails onto the table, your pulse quickening, trying to hide how affected you are by his words. “What is it that you want to know?”

“Come sit with me, doll.”

Doll. Doll. Doll. Inside your chest, your heart gallops, your legs trembling as you get off the table, moving closer to him.

Feeling lighter with every step you take, you plop down beside him, and Logan sits straighter, his knees almost bumping into yours.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him—this is happening, just like in your filthiest dreams.

His hand slides up to yours, not applying any sort of pressure. He scrutinizes your skin, bringing your hand to his lips, and he presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

It tickles, it burns—it ignites a fire inside you, one you know you can’t ignore. A gasp attempts to escape you, but you suppress it.

“Did you let them touch you?” he whispers, attaching his mouth to your neck, brushing the sensitive spot where your jaw and ear meet.

This time, you moan, any possible rational thoughts turning into putty, melting with the way he’s touching you. “Logan,” you purr his name, begging for something, anything he’s willing to give you. Your thighs, once shoved together, spread of their own accord, and you hear him click his tongue.

“I asked you something.” His teeth graze your pulse point, forcing you to close your eyes.

“I didn’t. They wanted to, but I—I wouldn’t let them,” you answer, and as if he’s rewarding you, his fingers begin to tug on the hem of your sweatshirt, rolling it up your body and over your head. He tosses it to the floor, admiring you.

“Why?”

Goddamn.

“Because I was waiting for the right guy,” you manage to get out, grasping his hand and positioning it on top of your right breast, encouraging him to go on with what he had started. His pupils widen further, and he squeezes your tit roughly, eliciting a moan from you. “I think I’ve found him.”

Logan scans your face, searching for any sign of repentance in your expression. “I’m going to hell for this,” he murmurs under his breath, his hard-on noticeable through his tented sweatpants. “Lay down.” You obey his command, easing yourself onto the couch, and sinking into the cushions as he presses himself to your side.

He peppers your neck with kisses, playing with the waistband of your shorts. “I’m not gonna kiss you, but I’ll make you feel good. Just this time, ‘kay? And we don’t talk about it.”

You accept his offer, knowing that you’ll probably regret it in a couple of hours. Right now, it doesn’t matter. You need his electrifying touch, his fingers, his—

With a swift motion, your shorts are yanked down your legs, and his calloused hands part your thighs even wider. A damp spot on your underwear sells you out, and his thumb rubs gentle circles over that area, causing you to lift your hips.

“So this is what you look like when you touch yourself, huh?” He edges his fingers closer to your clit, his breath tickling your ear, and he dips his tongue into your collarbone. “I hear you all the fuckin’ time. You’re not as quiet as you think.”

It should embarrass you, the fact that he has listened to you pleasuring yourself. But in a moment like this, it only succeeds in fuelling your desire. “Please. You said you’d make me feel good.”

“And I will, but you’re greedy as hell,” he says, his movements more deliberate now. You feel hot all over as he pulls your panties to the side, exposing your glistening cunt.

Logan’s on the verge of drooling all over you, reaching for your folds and spreading your wetness. “Men aren’t strong creatures, honey. You’ve got no idea how hard it is to hold back.”

“D-don’t hold back,” you stutter, losing your composure when he returns to your clit, his fingers coated in your arousal while they flick your swollen bud. “Oh, Logan…”

“You make the prettiest sounds,” he rasps, mouthing at your jaw, though as you try to kiss him, he slows his pace. “What’s wrong? Am I not giving you enough?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” you whisper, fascinated by how big his fingers look in comparison to your pussy. “I’m just—”

“Needy, I know,” he finishes for you, and he picks up his merciless rhythm again. Heat pools in your lower abdomen, and you can’t help but arch your back every time he teases you, grazing your entrance with his middle finger. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

You dig your nails into his arm, relishing the way his body responds to your touch. He grinds his cock against your hip, his teeth nipping at the column of your neck. “I want to come. Please, make me come,” you sob, letting out a shaky breath.

A thin sheen of sweat covers your forehead, and Logan locks eyes with you after what feels like an eternity. “Please, Lo.”

The nickname snaps something inside of him. His fingers circle your clit with a fervency you hadn’t experienced before, your pleasure seemingly being his primary focus. “The shit I’d do for you.”

You warn him, telling him you’re close—so so so close—until the fire in your belly flares, and blood rushes to your ears. You collapse against him, holding his hand firmly against your core, hips jerking as you ride your orgasm.

The world narrows down to this—this moment, your most desired fantasy.

Logan holds you as you go limp in his arms, rubbing your clit ever so slightly, murmuring soft praises. “Y’did so good, sweetheart,” he whispers, planting a kiss on your temple, burying his nose in your hair. You’re still out of breath, the pulsing between your parted legs persisting long after your release. “Told you you weren’t quiet.”

A giggle bubbles up from your chest, his beard tickling you as he slides his hands up under your shirt, finding your nipples.

“It was n-nice,” you tell him, your voice faltering the more he toys with your hardened peaks. Your skin heats up again, heart racing at the thought that he isn’t done with you yet.

“Just nice?” One of his hands makes its way back into your pussy, ghosting his fingers over your hole, and he smirks when he feels you squirm. “You surely know how to hurt a man’s pride.”

“I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—” You can’t structure a proper sentence, not when he’s playing with you like this.

Logan rubs your arousal between his fingers, as though he wants you to see how slick you still are, even after coming. “Are you going to touch me again?”

He hums, feigning uncertainty. “What do you think, baby? Should I make you come with my fingers now?”

It’s like a switch flips in your mind. He knows exactly how to make you beg and which buttons to push, using that power to his advantage. “Yes, please. I want it,” you plead, intending to buck your hips into his touch, impatient for more.

“Do you fuck yourself with your fingers?”

“Sometimes, but I can never finish—Oh my God.” He slips one finger inside you, causing you to curse, your voice barely above a whisper. You clench around the intrusion, your head falling back onto the cushions. “Fuck me.”

“In a minute.” He begins to thrust his finger in and out, gathering your juices every time he goes back to hammering that sweet spot in your interior. Soon, one finger becomes two, and he reduces you to a panting mess.

Tears threaten to swell in your eyes, and you whine as he involves his other hand in the matter, furiously rubbing your clit. “Your fingers feel much better than m-mine, Lo.”

“I can tell.” He curls them just right, and you push back against his thrusts, tilting your pelvis to meet him halfway. “There you go. Take what you need, sweetheart. I’m right here, I’ve got you.”

Everything feels frenzied, fast, the way your inner walls spam and contract around his fingers as you chase your second climax.

Once you come down from your high, your blurred vision catches him tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down. His cock springs free, and he fists himself, stroking his length angrily.

You watch as some pre-cum dribbles from the head, and you lean forward, watching it closely.

“You look goddamn beautiful when you come, darlin’,” he murmurs through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched tight. Hovering over you, he rucks your shirt up until he can see your tits from above. He alternates between your breasts, squeezing them while he continues to stroke his girth. “Want to see these all dirty.”

Logan truly loses it when your hand reaches out to him, tracing a bulging vein near the head of his cock. You meet his lustful gaze, batting your lashes, and then you feel his come splashing against your bare chest, a choked moan escaping Logan’s throat, spurts of his hot seed landing on your skin.

“Fuckin’ hell… fuck,” he grunts, still tugging at his cock, enamored with the masterpiece he’s created. When it’s finally over, he lies beside you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his hair, and he nuzzles further into your touch with a groan. “I’m too old for this.”

Minutes pass as both of you seem to grasp the gravity of what has just happened. Eventually, Logan rises to his feet, disappearing for a brief moment before coming back with a towel to wipe his come off your stomach and chest.

He’s gentle with you, his gaze trained on his task until his eyes flick up to meet yours.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, pulling your shorts back up.

“Like what?”

“Like you want to see right through me.” He adjusts your shirt to cover your body again, but the towel remains in his hand, a reminder of the previous events.

I’m not gonna kiss you, but I’ll make you feel good. Just this time, ‘kay? And we don’t talk about it.

You don’t have to talk about it. You definitely don’t.

Two days later, he’s the one who comes looking for you.

You’re nearly asleep when he knocks on your door. “Come in,” you mumble, a bit of drool having dampened your pillow. You dry your mouth with the back of your hand, your back turned to the door.

He steps into your room cautiously, as if navigating a minefield. The mattress dips under his weight. “Were you sleeping?” he asks, caressing your leg over the covers.

You shift onto your back, your body responding before your mind. There’s no blood on his clothes—that makes you feel a bit better, and you shake your head.

“Good.” He looms closer, fumbling with his belt. His thumb applies little pressure to your lower lip, and your mouth parts to let him in, salivating.

This is just like Pavlov’s dog experiment—except that Logan isn’t an experimenter, and you aren’t a dog.

Yet, when he approaches you like this, you can’t help but respond, settling into a routine where you both take take take from each other.

Logan doesn’t fuck you, even when you beg him to. He gets you off with his fingers, his thigh, his mouth—but his cock remains out of the equation.

“Just the tip,” you plead, voice laced with pure need, when he’s got his face nestled between your legs.

As he stops eating you out, his beard shiny with your arousal, he’s still got that angry look on his face. Your cries don’t get to him.

“That lie’s older than me.” He slips his fingers back inside you, aiming to make you drop the subject. “Come on, baby. Gotta get ready for work, but you need to come first.”

Nor does he stay the night after telling you you’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen in his life. Just when you think he’s fallen asleep, his legs intertwined with yours and one of his large hands under your head, you drift off.

By the time morning comes, he’s gone. You just know that when night falls, he’ll be back for more, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

Despite all that, Logan won’t kiss you. He keeps his promise, and you hate how determined he is.

“Not even once?” you ask him one night while going over the scars on his back. You’re in his bed this time, and he has his nose buried in his pillow, moments away from dozing off.

“No,” he answers, squirming slightly under your touch. “I’m tired. Stop doing that.”

“How did you get this one?” You trace one scar that’s close to his shoulder, resting your chin just inches from it.

He turns his face to see your eyes. “Well, I was doing Pilates, and I—Hey!” He laughs when you pinch the skin near his ribs, tickling him. “I don’t even remember. Must’ve got it a long time ago.”

“Did it hurt?” It’s a dumb question, but he doesn’t mention it.

His index finger grazes your cheek, and he chuckles at the way your eyelids flutter. “In the past, they all did. But not anymore,” he replies, though you wish you could believe him.

You know he’s in pain most days. That when he goes down on you, and he’s on his knees for too long, he has trouble standing up without cursing. That no amount of alcohol, or his healing ability, helps him with it.

You kiss each of his scars before curling against his side, brushing your nose against his. “And now?” Your eyes fall to his lips, silently hoping he’ll say Yes.

Instead, he sighs. “I think we should go to sleep.”

So despite the lack of kisses, the miscommunication, and the fact that he won’t fuck you even though you know—you feel—he wants to, things are good between you.

Charles notices it, openly expressing his recent realization. “He looks happier, doesn’t he?” he asks says after winning two games of chess in a row, startling you.

“Logan, you mean?”

“Yes, my dear.”

You glance down at the board, fidgeting with the pieces. “I guess so.”

“You guess so?” he parrots your previous words, raising an eyebrow in doubt. “Look at me,” he says, and as you do it, he points a shaky finger toward your neck. “I assume mosquitos have taken a liking to you.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, your hand flying up to cover the hickey you had completely forgotten about in the first place. “Charles, I’m—“

“Are you happy?” he interrupts you, and you nod, because you are.

A nagging thought lingers at the back of your mind. You don’t know if you’re asking for too much, but it still feels like something’s missing.

One morning, you accidentally overhear a conversation between them. The door of the tank is ajar, and right before you step inside, you recognize Logan’s voice in the distance.

“Charles, I’m fine, alright? I don’t need your advice.”

There’s a pause before Charles responds. “You know, Logan… this is what life looks like. You should take a moment and feel it. You still have time.”

Logan doesn’t say anything in response to that. And if he does, you don’t stick around long enough find out, because you’re already turning on your heel.

A poet once said: “Blowjobs are fucking amazing.”

Actually, you might be wrong. Those may not have been a poet’s words, but your best friend Keira’s from high school.

You remember the sleepovers at her place—she had a boyfriend at the time, a boy she had met at a party you hadn’t been invited to.

“Welcome to blowjobs 101,” she had declared one night, holding a hairbrush like a microphone. “Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll tell you everything you need to know when the moment comes.”

Luckily, many years later, that moment arrived.

Just ten minutes ago, you were cooking dinner, sniffling back tears while chopping onions, so lost in thought that you didn’t realize Logan was already home.

He tossed his keys onto the table, hugging you from behind seconds later. You leaned back against his chest, enjoying the scratch of his beard against your sensitive skin, his lips planting soft kisses wherever they could.

“How was work?” you dropped the knife, wiping your tears as you turned to face him, throwing your arms around his neck. Logan pulled you in tighter by the waist, giving your ass a firm squeeze.

“Hell, as usual,” he looked into your eyes, finding them all glossy. “You miss me so much you started crying?”

Of course, you didn’t talk about it—but words aren’t the only ones who can convey meaning.

You’re not sure how, but one thing led to another, and now you’re on your knees, Logan’s cock filling your mouth. Your lips, swollen and red, suck hard at his tip, pulling the foreskin back, and his hips jerk deeper into your throat. “That’s it, fuck. Doin’ so good.”

Your movements are far from graceful. As a matter of fact, it’s all too sloppy and desperate. Saliva drips down your chin, some of it coating his balls, and you fondle them at the same time you bob your head.

Keira’s advice plays on repeat in your mind, and you pull out every trick you know to make Logan roll his eyes.

So far, you think you’re doing pretty great, judging by the way he’s gripping the back of your head.

“H-how is this your first time suckin’ cock?” he slurs, more to himself, his voice strangled as you make eye contact with him. He brushes your hair out of your face, bewitched by the sight of him disappearing into your wet mouth. “God, I fuckin’ love you.”

Taken aback by his sudden confession. you involuntarily gag around him. He pulls you off his cock, not even sparing you a glance, tucking himself back into his briefs. “Wait, Logan—”

“Not now,” he mutters abruptly, withdrawing into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him.

God, I fuckin’ love you.

But still, he doesn’t want to talk about it.

How bad is it to tell somebody you love them and then avoid them?

Yeah, it’s absolutely terrible, right? Tell that to the idiot himself—Logan Howlett.

It’s been over a week, and no matter how many times you press him for an explanation, he keeps dodging it.

Things go back to how they were before you two started fooling around, and Charles’ questions don’t take long to come: “I thought you two were getting somewhere.”

“Me too,” you admit, your voice quieter as you try to appear indifferent.

You have no answer for him. Not that you don’t want to discuss your relationship problems—it’s just that you don’t know what went wrong.

When evading you isn’t enough, he works longer hours, which only adds to how little you see him. At least he lets you know if he’s going to be late, sparing you from waiting up.

But apart from that, your interactions have dwindled to nothing, and it’s eating you alive.

You’re madly in love with him. You thought you knew that already, but now that he’s distant, the depth of your feelings has become clearer than ever.

He’s everywhere you go, just not physically—he has conquered your mind.

And it should be funny, loving someone who used to be no more than a myth for you. Though Logan is real—maybe too real for your own good—and he hasn’t been the mutant you once read about for quite some time.

This morning, he’s having breakfast at the table when you walk into the kitchen. You hold your breath as your shoulders brush for a microsecond, his gaze following your steps.

You’re no longer accustomed to sharing the same space with him, so it makes sense that you stay as far away as possible.

After an awkward silence, he stands up and mutters something about checking on Charles and giving him his meds, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

It’s infuriating, how collected he seems. Why isn’t he miserable like you? Doesn’t he miss you? Didn’t you two have something… special?

I’m not gonna kiss you, but I’ll make you feel good. Just this time, ‘kay? And we don’t talk about it.

The shit I’d for you.

God, I fuckin’ love you.

Not now.

The memory of his words lingers, seared into your unconscious, though the sound of his phone jolts you out of your thoughts.

It’s ringing beside the coffee machine, and you try to ignore it, determined to be the bigger person.

But after five minutes of the relentless ringtone echoing in the empty kitchen, you’ve had enough.

Unknown caller—interesting. What could he possibly be hiding?

Charles, you better keep that asshole busy, you think to yourself, swiping right to answer the call.

Before you can say anything, a woman��s voice fills the line.

“James! Thank God. It’s Gillian. You didn’t reply to any of my texts, and I was starting to get worried,” she lets out a giggle, the sound grating against your nerves.

As your grip on the phone tightens, your knuckles start to go white.

“Look, I know you said you weren’t available, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that ride. I didn’t see any ring on your finger, so what do you say, huh? Will you let me take you out?”

Red. You’re seeing red.

“James? Hello? Cat got your tongue?”

At last, you clear your throat. “Hey,” you greet her, pacing around the kitchen. “I’m deeply sorry, but James can’t talk right now.”

“Excuse me?” she snaps, her high-pitched voice echoing through the speakers, and you pull the device away from your ear. “This is James’ number. Who the fuck are you?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you who the fuck I am, you intolerant piece of—”

Before you can finish, the phone is yanked out of your hand, the call hastily ending.

There is no use in playing dumb, not when Logan’s standing right in front of you, observing you like you’re a child who’s made a severe mistake.

His deep, brown eyes pierce your soul, shattering any chance you had of coming up with an excuse.

“What where you doing with my phone?” It’s the first thing he asks you, his voice still steady, the calm before the storm.

Perhaps you’re not as mature as you thought you were—your forehead furrows, unwilling to back down, and you fall silent. He takes a step forward, as if he can’t believe your attitude. “Think I asked you somethin’. Why did you answer?”

“Gillian sounds like a lovely lady. Tell her I said ‘Hi’ the next time you see her,” you croak, attempting to walk past him, but he doesn’t budge, his solid frame blocking your path. You collide with his chest, and it feels like trying to move a brick wall without success.

“We’re talking. You can’t just leave.”

The nerve of this man.

“You can’t be serious,” you retort, staring at him, wishing the emotion in your tone could capture even a fraction of what you’re truly feeling. “Weren’t you the one who walked away first? After telling me you loved me?”

You search for any sign of the man who once held you close, but he feels miles away, hidden under all these layers that smell like cheap whiskey and gasoline. “You didn’t mean it.”

“I did. I meant every word,” he growls, his fists clenching at his sides, and you don’t miss the exhaustion in his eyes, the dark circles that expose the fragile façade of control he’s so desperate to maintain. “Goddamit! You’re doing that thing again!”

“What thing?” you exclaim, your mouth hanging open in frustration. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not doing anything.”

“Yes, you are! You’re trying to see through me, like you can read my mind.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint, but I’m not a fucking mutant. I just have eyes, Logan.” You throw your arms up, exasperated. “People actually look at each other when they have a conversation, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“You’re testing my patience,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face.

“And you are testing mine.” You rest your back against the table, raising your chin. “So, who is she?”

Logan drops his shoulders, slamming his eyes shut. “I drove her once, last week. It was a long ride and she… wouldn’t stop talking. Didn’t shut up for a single second. She hit on me, but I told her I’m off the market.”

“Why? ‘Cause she talked too much?”

“No. Because I love you,” he says, pure awe transforming his expression, like he doesn’t believe he has said it out loud. “I don’t know when I started feeling like this, or if I’ve always felt it, but—I do. I love you.”

Oh.

You had heard those words slip through his lips before, but now they sound different. It might be that keeping him at arm's length has felt like death by a thousand cuts, or perhaps it’s the realization that this is the first time someone’s declaring their love for you.

Fuck. He loves you. As in, he’s in love with you?

“Then why do you keep running?” You edge closer to him, your eyes trained on his. “I’m done with the chase, Logan. It’s tiring—I am tired. I’ve been sleeping like shit, trying to figure out what—”

His arms surround your body, cutting you off and pulling you close. The hammering of his heart matches yours, and you return the hug, nuzzling your nose against his neck.

You fear that this might be all you’ve ever needed, feeling as if the pieces he took from you in the past are finally falling back into place.

Logan holds you as if in a past life he lost you, but now, he’s decided to never let you go.

This profound sense of completeness, of being where you’re meant to be, makes you realize you’ve found home in the warmth of his embrace.

“I’m sorry. This… this scares me, alright?” he murmurs next to your ear, raking his fingers through your hair. “You make me feel things I didn’t think I could feel anymore. That’s what I’m running from—the part of me I thought was gone. But you… you brought it back.”

You feel a deep urge to curl up and cry, wondering why on earth he would ever think he was unworthy of being cared for. “Logan, I…”

“I sound pathetic, I know. It sounded way better in my head.”

“Don’t you dare say that.” You retreat a bit, looking him in the eye. He stares down at you with a tenderness you’ve never seen before. “It’s not pathetic to voice how you feel. I want to know it all, want to know everything about you.”

“Everything?”

“Yes, everything. But I need you to promise me that you won’t run away anymore. I know it’s difficult, but it’s not fair to any of us.”

His eyes peer directly into yours, and he gives a nod. “I promise to do my best.” He presses your foreheads together, and that’s when his mouth turns into a grin. “You’re not going to say it back?” he teases, gripping your waist. “Come on, I said it first. Twice, for the record.”

Lifting your shoulders in a half-shrug, you find it hard to conceal your smile. “I may need a bit more convincing.”

Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.

Before you know it, his lips are on yours, almost making you lose your balance. You whimper into his mouth, tightening your arms around his neck as his tongue wastes no time in finding yours, stroking it sensually.

The wait had been definitely worth it—you’d do everything all over again if it meant having him kiss you like this at the end of the day.

He tilts your face so that he can deepen the kiss, and a whine gets caught in your throat when his fingers pull gently at the hair at your nape, nibbling at your bottom lip.

“I love you, too. Very much, to be honest,” you blurt out against his mouth, pleased with the way he laughs at your reaction, squeezing your hips. “But I still have some ideas in mind.”

“I’m all ears.”

Here goes nothing. “Fuck me like I’ve been asking you to.” You cup his cheek, guiding his lips into yours one more time. “Please,” you mewl, standing on your tiptoes. “Want you to be my first.”

If it were up to you, you would’ve begged him to take you right there on the kitchen floor. But Logan, ever the gentleman, insists on moving things to his room.

Each of his movements is slow, igniting your skin with a burning heat, leaving his name imprinted where his teeth sink into your soft flesh.

You’re left in nothing but your underwear by the time he murmurs: “Let me take my time with you.” He trails his lips down your chest, your stomach, until he’s planting several kisses along your ankle. “I don’t know how I got so lucky, baby. Look at you.”

Under his gaze, you feel shy, your eyes snapping to the ceiling instead. “Shut up,” you say, tugging at his shirt to undress him, your fingers tracing the lines of his abdomen before you pull him into a bruising kiss, sucking on his tongue.

He strips out of his black slacks and hovers over you, his clothed cock grinding against your throbbing core, eliciting a moan from both of you. “So goddamn beautiful. Can’t believe you’re mine.” His tip grazes your entrance through the fabric, making your toes curl in ectasy. “I’m gonna make you feel good, I swear.”

At first, he’s extremely careful, making sure to stretch you out with his fingers while you stroke him, pumping your fist to match his rhythm. “Keep that up and this’ll be over sooner than expected,” he warns, taking one of your nipples into his mouth.

It doesn’t happen like it does in the books or movies. No foreplay could’ve prepared you for the moment he enters you.

You move clumsily beneath him, your nose bumping into his forehead as he eases the first inch of his length inside.

For a moment, you’re not certain which hurts most: the dull ache in your nose or the way he’s splitting you open.

Logan freezes, his eyes wide in concern. “Shit. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Are you okay?” His hand cradles your face as he props himself up on one forearm, pushing your hair back while you adjust to his size. You laugh despite the sting, and he wipes away your tears with his thumb. “You’re laughin’?”

“I’m just happy,” you manage to get through the lump in your throat, raking your nails down his back, feeling the rough texture of the scars beneath your fingers. “I love you. Since that day at the bar, I—” you pause for a second, gasping at the sudden wave of pleasure when he twitches inside you. “I’ll always l-love you. Forever.”

As you wrap your legs around his waist and tell him you’re ready, something inside him shifts.

He feels like a madman, his eyes fixed on your face the whole time, searching for any hint of discomfort, though he occasionally glances down at the place where your bodies meet and become one, entranced by the sight of you taking him in, slick coating his length.

Your heels dig into his lower back, pulling him back to the present—back to you, with your pretty tits bouncing each time he pistols his hips, the intensity of his thrusts increasing.

“All those times you took care of me, when you—Fuck,” he groans, nipping at your jaw to regain some of his composure, his humid breath dampening your skin. Your scent drives him wild, and he reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “You made me feel loved when no one else did. My girl, love you so f-fucking much.”

His pace is nothing more than a voiceless testament to everything he feels but can’t find words to express.

With each minute that passes, your dripping cunt grips him tighter and tighter, his thrusts losing finesse. He needs you to come first—why does he feel like a virgin?

When you tell him you’re close, the world around him turns into a musical. You cling to the sheets, the mattress creaking noisily as he clutches the headboard, determined to find that angle that will push you over the edge.

“That’s it, sing for me,” Logan mutters from above, hypnotized by the crease forming between your brows. “Come on, let go.”

Time seems to slow down as your muscles tense and you clamp around him, your body sagging against him. His name spills from your lips in breathy whimpers, like an endless prayer, and your mouth engulfs his, tongues and teeth clashing in a fevered kiss.

Soon after that, he surrenders to the coiling tension deep within him, pulling out just in time to stroke himself once, twice, before emptying his hot load across your mound.

You gently thumb the head of his cock, coaxing out every last drop of his hot seed. He’s panting as he comes down from his high, his brain foggy and blissfully blank for a while.

Logan loses track of how many times he tells you he loves you—he does it when he pulls you into his chest, when his lips press against your temple, and when you crack that smile, the one that resembles the very purpose of his existence.

“So this is what it feels like.” His voice sounds low like a murmur near your ear, and you stir, half-asleep.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing, baby. Just thinkin’ aloud.”

You don’t have to talk about it, at least not now. Deep down, he knows that whatever thoughts run through his mind will somehow find their way into yours.

This is what life looks like. You should take a moment and feel it. You still have time.

And God, is he feeling it.

dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

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valleyofheartz · 7 months ago

Text

Beginning of the End

pairing: Suna Rintarou x F!Reader

angst to fluff

WC: 3.1k

synopsis: when Suna begins to spend more time with his close friends, including his new sickeningly sweet manager, you start to wonder if you’re not as important to him as you thought.

content/warnings: neglect, mentions of beating up (no one gets beat up), jealousy, insecurity, no use of y/n, lmk if i missed anything!

you make your way towards the gymnasium with a giddy smile as you hum the lyrics to Apple Cider. it’s a boring Thursday afternoon, and while you had the option of going home immediately, you figured you’d stop by Rintarou’s volleyball practice. after all, you’d baked some brownies and thought it would be a fun surprise for the boys.

you peek your head through the door to ensure no volleyballs are going to attack you, before slipping in and running towards the benches. you notice Suna spot you with his intense stare, and you give him a smile paired with a wave in response. he waves back before focusing on the rest of his practice.

you manage to get some work done throughout the hour, not disturbing the team as you know how serious the sport is to them. by the time you’ve finished your homework, they’ve begun to pack up and head to the locker room.

Atsumu, however, wipes his sweat with a towel before walking towards you.

“Hey, [Name], how are ya doin'?” he asks you with a crooked grin.

you finish zipping up your backpack before looking up, “I’m doing okay! Just waiting for Rin.”

he nods understandingly as the rest of the boys walk out, dressed in fresh clothes and looking much less… stinky. Rintarou eyes you and Atsumu as he lazily stalks over, draping an arm over you and pulling you close.

he bends down and kisses your temple, “Hey, baby. What’re you doing here?”

you pause, looking up at him unsure as you are aware of the presence of his team members. “I was waiting for you. I was thinking we could go back home together and watch a movie?”

he lifts his arm to rub the back of his neck. “Sorry, today the team is going out for dinner. Maybe tomorrow?”

you ignore the pinch in your heart at the lack of an invitation, but you justify it as it is a team dinner. and make no mistake, no matter how close you were, you were not part of his team.

“Oh, okay.” you murmur with an awkward smile. you look towards Osamu who stands off to the side, “Hey, ‘Samu, I made my brownies again since you all loved them so much. Here.”

you reach out to give them to him as he rips open the lid and stares at it with heart-eyes. he looks back to you, “Thank ya so much [Name], ya sure ya don’t wanna dump Sunarin for me? I could eat these for the rest of ma life.”

Suna immediately wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you into his chest as he glowers at Osamu. you giggle as Osamu merely raises his hands in mock surrender. the rest of the team digs in, including Atsumu who you notice still hasn’t changed. but that was none of your business.

what was your business, was the pouty messy haired boy in front of you who looked like a sad puppy.

“Hey. Where’s mine?”

you smile fondly, before unzipping your backpack and pulling out a neatly wrapped bag of brownies. they were decorated with caramel drizzle and mini sprinkle hearts.

Suna lights up at the sight, gently grabbing it from your hand and kissing the side of your face. “Thanks.” he whispers, causing you to shiver at the low tone.

“Should you all be eating brownies when nationals is just around the corner? I thought you’d be more strict about this, Kita-san.” a gentle voice comes from behind. you look over and find their manager, Akira, as she frowns at the team.

Kita looks thoroughly scolded as he stares at the brownie in his hand, his cheeks puffed out as he stops chewing.

your brows furrow as you notice everyone stop eating. you force a smile, “I thought it would be fine since it’s been months since I gave it to them.”

Atsumu nods as he finishes chewing, licking his fingers once he’s done. “Yeah, don’t worry about it Akira, yer new so ya don’t know this, but [Name] always bakes for us. It doesn’t hurt to have somethin’ sweet once in a while.”

she sighs, a dimpled smile coming onto her face, “I suppose you’re right, Atsumu. Well, when are we leaving?”

your face drops at the we. who is we, you begin to wonder. the team? her? everyone here but you? you clench your fist as you inhale quietly. you turn to Suna with a smile.

“I’m gonna head home before it gets darker, have fun at your dinner.” you kiss his cheek before placing your bag over your shoulder and leaving, uncaring of the fact that your exit was not the nicest.

perhaps this was the beginning of the end of your and Suna’s relationship. looking back, you should’ve noticed something was wrong. but what were you to do, other than ride the catastrophic wave as a rookie surfer.

✾

things began to go downhill from there. slowly, but surely, you were losing Rintarou. it went from team dinners, to team hangouts, to spending lunch breaks with the team. it was the team, team, team, and team. and a quick glance at Atsumu’s Instagram let you know that Akira was included in every team plan.

that didn’t mean you didn’t try. because if there’s anything you ever did, it was try your best.

“Hey, Rin! Let’s get dinner on Saturday?”

he looks at you with a guilty smile, kissing your lips gently. you part, dazed, but he lets you down with his next words. “Sorry, team dinner again. Maybe next week?”

“Rinnie, was thinking of seeing the new Barbie movie with you. Wanna go on Friday?” you ask with hopeful eyes. the Barbie movie was gaining so much popularity lately, it was hard to go about your days without seeing spoilers.

he pauses, before running a hand through his messy dark hair, “Sorry, babe. The team already asked me to go with them. I can rewatch it with you some other time though?”

“No need,” you shake your head with a wry smile.

“Have fun, Rin.”

you end up going to the theatres alone and shoving popcorn in your mouth every time the couples next to you giggle.

the last straw was when he flaked on your usual Thursday lunch break meetup. the two of you would sit on the rooftop together and enjoy picking at each others food. it would often end in you being cuddled into his chest, enjoying the soft kisses down your neck.

the past few weeks, he hadn’t been present at all. he was physically there, but his mind was somewhere else. he’d be on his phone texting the team group chat you were obviously not in, and it was getting ridiculous. so when he fails to show up this week, you begin to wonder how much more of this you’ll put up with.

he doesn’t text you back for the rest of the day, and while you wish you could say you were angry, you were more so disappointed. was expecting him to prioritize you asking for too much? was it unreasonable to want to be chosen first? was love meant to hurt this much?

you make your way to the gymnasium once again after class. your face that once held a happy smile is replaced with a blank look, as you are unable to force yourself to look something you do not feel.

you walk in without a care of the volleyballs being thrown across the room, but you stop when you spot Akira, dimpled brown-haired Akira, who is in your Rintarou’s sweater. the sleeves fall below her hands, and the sweater paws look horrifically adorable. she smiles as she talks with the team, handing their water bottles to them. you wonder if you are imagining the glint in her eyes as she hands Rintarou his, their fingers brushing lightly as she gives it to him.

“[Name]!” a loud voice calls. it snaps you out of your daze, but you wish it hadn’t. tears begin to build in your eyes, so you turn around and walk out. you quickly wipe them away, thankful that your eyes don’t get red easily as you continue walking.

but then you hear footsteps. someone’s running towards you. you know it’s Rintarou, but you can’t face him right now. you speed up your steps, but he catches up with you in no time and softly grabs your wrist, pulling you into his chest.

you rip your arm out harshly, frowning up at him.

he exhales, out of breath from practice and running. “Baby, what’s wrong? Why did you leave?”

he pauses, “Why do you look so upset?”

he moves closer to grab your face in his hands, but you take a step back, needing the space.

“Why… Why was she in your sweater, Rintarou?”

he frowns, eyes looking around as his mind scrambles to understand you. “Who? You mean Akira? She wasn’t feeling well during lunch so I gave her my sweater.”

your heart drops. so while you were waiting for him alone at the rooftop he was with her? your face twists; you aren’t sure what kind of expression you’re showing, but it must annoy Suna, as he scoffs quietly, sliding a hand over his face.

“You’re not upset over that, are you? Because I don’t remember you being so possessive like that.”

you bark out a sarcastic laugh, looking at him as you tilt your head, “Possessive? More like I’m fucking normal, Rintarou. With the way you’ve been neglecting me lately, this is just the cherry on top.”

you shake your head, ignoring his concerned eyes. “Go back to practice, Suna. I’m going home.”

you turn around, fully expecting to be pulled back, but nothing happens. you continue to walk, letting out a shaky exhale as you place your headphones on. tears slip out of your eyes as your vision begins to blur. you blink harshly, wondering why every situation seemed to leave you utterly alone.

✾

“She said something about Akira being in my sweater.” Suna dries his hair messily with the towel in his hands before leaving it draped on his neck.

Osamu shrugs, “Well, that’s a valid reason to be uncomfortable in my opinion.”

Aran nods in agreement beside him. “Yeah, you considered that maybe you pushed a boundary of hers?”

Suna frowns, trying to ignore the flashes in his head of your heartbroken face. his chest aches. he hates not being on good terms with you.

Atsumu comes out from the showers, stretching his arms as he yawns.

“How was yer lunch with her today? Did she seem upset earlier?”

Suna pauses at Atsumu’s words.

Lunch?

Today was…Thursday.

he stands, scrambling as he rummages through his bag for his phone. he quickly opens your contact and looks at your texts. he sighs with a heavy heart at what he sees. why didn’t he get your texts?

he checks to the settings, finding that he had your contact muted. he knows he could have never done that, so he traces his memory back to whoever had his phone. the only time he left his phone alone today was when he was with Akira in the nurses room.

putting the pieces together, he shuts off his phone and tosses it back into his bag.

“Fuck.”

Suna looks for you on Friday, but you manage to slip away every time he got close. he sat in your usual seat in class, only for you to sit up at the front close to the door. when class was over, you quickly packed your bags and was out before he could blink.

when he looked for you at lunch, he found you surrounded by your friends. you must’ve told them something, because the moment they saw him they glared before huddling closer to you as if to protect you. he rolls his eyes at the thought but is happy you have such caring friends.

he waits by your locker after school, crossing his arms and leaning on the cool metal. he has practice, but he has priorities. and perhaps he neglected you for the past three weeks, but he knows he can fix this. he can be better.

but when you don’t show up, he wonders what the point of being better is if you’re not there.

his eyes trace the lines in the concrete as he walks towards the gym. the rest of practice he’s off his game, with sloppy spikes and weak serves. sure, he gets told off by Kita but it’s not as bad as the pain of potentially losing you.

Akira walks up to him after practice. she taps his shoulder. “Hey, Suna. I was wondering if you wanted to visit the Illusion Cafe with me this weekend? I know you love sweets and I heard lots of good things!” she smiles sweetly, but all Suna can focus on is the sweater she is wearing. it’s his.

more importantly, it’s yours.

he frowns, “No. I’m gonna spend that time with my girlfriend.”

Akira’s expression drops into a slight scowl. his eyebrow twitches at the mere sight. why would she be angry that he’s spending time with his girlfriend?

“Oh…Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.” she says with a tight lipped smile.

he looks back at the sweater before glancing at her face. “I won’t. Also, I’d like my sweater back sometime soon, thanks.”

her face reddens at his comment. she nods, embarrassed, before scurrying away.

Suna sighs, walking to the locker room and wondering how he was gonna get you to talk to him.

the team walks out of the gym, with Suna tuning their mindless rambling out. he stretches, finding his eyes seem heavier than usual. he hadn’t slept well last night, unused to you being angry with him that it left him so unsettled he couldn’t sleep.

“Oh, looks like the basketball team is also going home.”

it’s something insignificant. something Suna thought he’d look over at and forget the next second. but then he sees you.

you, with your arm wrapped around another guy’s arm. he’s tall, taller than Suna. muscular too, and his dark blue hair is captivating. Suna stops walking, causing the rest of the team to take a second glance at what he is looking at.

“Holy shit, is that [Name]? What’s she doin’ with those scrubs?” he distantly hears Atsumu say, but all is on his mind is he needs to get you away from that guy now. away from him and into his arms.

you’re laughing, happy for the first time in three weeks until you hear the rushed footsteps that are approaching you.

“[Name], let’s talk.” Suna demands. unfortunately for him, you’re not in the mood to talk anymore.

you unwrap your arm, looking at Suna directly. “No thanks. Maybe next time.” you quote his favourite line he’d used on you countless times recently. it seems he realizes, as his face crumples.

“Who’s this dolt?” the tall blue haired man asks, and Suna’s eyebrow twitches in irritation. who does this guy think he is?

you sigh, “Sorry, Aomine. This is my…boyfriend.”

Aomine’s brows raise. “Ah, my bad. Didn’t mean to get in the way.”

you shake your head, ignoring the other basketball members who surround you. “You’re not in the way, let’s go home, please.”

Suna walks in front of you, stopping you from moving. you exhale, exhausted from the long three weeks and wanting nothing more than to be in your bed.

“You want me to deal with him, [Name]?” Kagami asks from the side, sliding his sleeves up as Suna’s eyes widen.

a new voice comes from behind Suna, “Deal with him? Yer gonna havta deal with us too then.” Atsumu stands in front of Suna, eyes blazing with confidence. even Kita stands off to the side, seemingly ready to physically intervene. you want to laugh at the scene.

you shake your head at the almost comedic situation in front of you, before clapping your hands loudly. “Okay! That’s enough. Volleyball kids, go on your way. Basketball kids, also go on your way. Suna and I will talk as he walks me home.”

Suna’s eyes light up at your words, but you ignore his gaze. he wasn’t forgiven quite yet.

the rest of them begin to make their way out of the school grounds, except for Suna and Aomine. Aomine looks down at you, bending to your height, “You sure you don’t need me to do anything?”

you smile at his overprotectiveness, “No thanks, I got this. Thank you though, really.” he smiles and ruffles your hair, letting out a small ‘oof’ as you hug him tightly.

Suna stands off to the side, silently seething yet knowing he has no place to tell you what to do, especially not now.

Aomine leaves soon after, with a soft wave and a promise to beat Suna up if he tries anything funny. you glance at Suna who looks unsure and out of place.

“Let’s go?” you don’t wait for an answer and begin walking. you hear soft shuffling as he walks beside you and takes small glances that he thinks are discreet.

you arrive at a park near your house. you take a seat on the swings, Suna carefully doing the same. you wait for him to speak, as you’re all out of love and words to give at the moment.

“So… I think- No I know, I need to start this off by saying I’m sorry.” he stands, moving to position himself in front of you. he bends down, crouching to meet your gaze.

“I was very neglectful these last few weeks. I have no excuse, and I know I’ve hurt you.”

he slowly moves to grab your hand; you allow him, as he brings your limp hand to kiss the back. “I want you to know I made it clear to Akira that you’re my number one. You’re the one I always want, no matter what. I can’t even believe my dumbass made you doubt that.”

he shakes your head, looking down before glancing up. you notice tears building in his lash-line, causing you to sit up in alarm.

“I am seriously so fucking sorry for missing our lunch dates, dinners, and for giving her my sweater.”

you grab his face gently, wiping your thumbs beneath his eyes.

“I’ll burn the sweater, I swear.”

you roll your eyes, squishing his cheeks gently.

he grabs your arms, kissing your inner wrists softly as he looks up at you. “Will you give me a second chance? I promise I won’t fumble.”

the sweet moment is broken, then, as you scoff out a laugh. “You’re not going to fumble me, Rintarou.”

he smiles, cat-like eyes with a lazy grin. “Damn right. Gotta treat you like the princess you are.”

you pout, “Not a queen?”

he laughs, a deep raspy sound. he stands up and tilts his head down to kiss your nose.

“Princess, queen, anything. So long as you’re mine.”

EXTRA:

"So, who was that asshole earlier?"

you shove his shoulder gently, "He's not an asshole! He's my friend. Didn't you know I'm friends with the basketball team? I used to be their manager."

Rintarou scoffs, "Yeah, I knew that, just didn't know those guys were so close to my girl."

you look at him with a blank face.

"Right, and I was the one who was possessive. Sure."

he whines softly, low in his throat as he moves his face into your neck, "I said I was sorry!"

a/n: suna brainrot😵‍💫

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #suna angst #suna fluff #suna x you #haikyuu angst to fluff #suna rintaro imagine #suna x reader #haikyuu x you

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