#i apologize but i really can't see any way to cut this down

[fictionadventurer]

The Shocking Redemption Arc of Chester Arthur

To my great pleasure, I get to tell you about Chester A. Arthur. If you don’t know his story, that’s a surprising statement, because most people don’t even recognize his name as one of the presidents. That’s a crying shame, because this guy has the most fascinating character arc of any president I’ve come across so far. He entered the presidency as a despicable, corrupt, conniving political lackey, and left it as--

Well, I’d best get on with the story.

Chester Arthur started out as an idealist. He was the son of an abolitionist Baptist minister, and though he dropped the religion in adulthood, he remained devoted to abolishing slavery. He became a lawyer with a New York firm that argued several civil rights case, and he rose to fame in 1854 when he served as the defense attorney for Elizabeth Jennings, the Northern version of Rosa Parks. Arthur’s victory in her case led to the desegregation of New York City’s public transportation.

During the Civil War, Arthur got an appointment as New York’s quartermaster general. After the war, Arthur returned to civilian life and became a Republican “party man” who worked behind the scenes to draw in voters, funding, and supporters. He and his wife Ellen (called Nell) both loved the finer things in life, which drove Arthur to do whatever he could to gain fame, wealth, and social status.

This is where I need to explain the spoils system. For the first hundred-plus years of American politics, all federal positions were filled by appointment. When a new president came into office, he could award government positions to his supporters--"to the victor go the spoils". Federal employees were required to donate money to the ruling party. There were no requirements for education or relevant experience. Any job could be filled by anyone with the right connections. If you think that sounds like a breeding ground for corruption and cronyism, you’d be absolutely right. By the 1870s, the system was getting extremely corrupt, and there was a growing push for reform.

But not by Chester Arthur. He owed his career to the spoils system. Through his work in the party, he became the right-hand man of Roscoe Conkling, New York’s senior senator and the state’s “political boss”. Conkling was a flamboyant showman, a magnetic politician, and a ruthless man. He had been a major supporter of Ulysses S. Grant’s presidential campaign, so Grant gave Conkling control over all the federal appointments in New York. Conkling used his power to fill positions with his friends and supporters, and he was brutal in attacking anyone who got in his way.

Because Chester Arthur was Conkling’s most loyal supporter, he got the best federal job in the country—Controller of the Port of New York. Before income tax, around 60-70% of federal funds came from the tariffs at this one port. The controller got a salary similar to the president’s, plus he was able to take a percentage of all the fines they levied. At the height of his power, Chester Arthur made $50,000 a year, which is a lot when the average skilled worker at the time made $500. (A rough estimate puts his salary at $1.3 million in today’s dollars.)

Arthur was living the high life. He racked up huge tailor bills. He had a gorgeously furnished house. His job allowed him to force his employees to donate a percentage of their salary to the Republican Party, which gave him even more power within the political machine. He bought huge amounts of wine and cigars that he handed out to people he was wining and dining for the good of the party. His wife resented that he was rarely home because of his political work, but Arthur loved the machine too much to stop.

After his 1876 election, President Rutherford B. Hayes desperately tried to reform the spoils system, but was blocked every step of the way by Roscoe Conkling. Finally, in 1878, Hayes managed to remove Arthur from his position as port controller, under suspicion of corruption, which allowed Arthur to spend more time working for New York’s political machine.

In January of 1880, Arthur was in Albany working for a political campaign when his wife caught pneumonia. By the time Arthur got home, Nell had fallen into a coma, and he wasn’t able to speak with her before she died. He felt guilty over her death, and especially the lack of closure caused by his devotion to politics. But instead of changing his ways, Arthur moved in with Conkling and became more devoted to politics than ever.

Which brings us to the 1880 Republican Convention. The Republican Party was split between two warring factions—the Stalwarts like Conkling who wanted to keep things the way they were, and the Half-Breeds who wanted civil service reform. President Hayes refused to seek re-election (partly because Conkling had made his life miserable) so these two factions somehow had to agree on a new candidate. Conkling supported a third term for Ulysses S. Grant. The Half-Breeds supported James G. Blaine of Maine—who happened to be Conkling’s mortal enemy.

James Garfield was there to nominate John Sherman—the Secretary of the Treasury and the younger brother of the famous Civil War general—and I can’t go any further in this story before I tell you a little bit about him. James Garfield is one of the most ridiculous overachievers in the realm of American politics. He was born into a dirt-poor farming family (he’s the last president ever to have been born in a log cabin). At sixteen, he left home to work on a canal boat, but quit after he nearly drowned, and his mother and brother scraped up enough money for him to go to school. His first year, he paid for his tuition by working as a school janitor. His second year, the school hired him to teach six classes (while he was still a student!) and then added two more because of how popular he was. By the time he was twenty-six, he was president of that same school. He became a lawyer and was elected to Ohio’s state legislature. During the Civil War, he became the youngest person to earn the rank of general. While fighting in the Civil War, his friends put his name in as a candidate for the US House of Representatives, and Garfield won even though he refused to campaign. He then served several terms in the House, where he became popular, but he refused to seek the presidency, because he’d watched several friends become warped by their presidential ambitions.

At the 1880 Republican Convention, Garfield was the more popular Ohio candidate, but insisted he was there only to nominate Sherman. At one point in his nominating speech, Garfield asked the audience, “Now, gentleman, what do we want?” To Garfield’s horror, one man shouted, “We want Garfield!”

Garfield remained loyal in nominating Sherman, but the spark had been lit. The voting went round after round after round for two days, with the votes being split between Grant, Blaine, and Sherman, with no one getting enough to win the nomination. Garfield got one vote in the third round. In the thirty-fourth round, Garfield suddenly got seventeen votes. Garfield stood to protest, saying no one had a right to vote for him since he hadn't consented, but the president of the convention--who was secretly thrilled because he liked Garfield more than any of the other candidates--told Garfield to sit down.

By the thirty-sixth vote, Garfield had won the nomination.

Now they had to choose a vice president. Several of the delegates got the idea to throw a bone to Roscoe Conkling. He was furious that Grant had lost the nomination, and he was vindictive. Conkling controlled New York’s political machine, so without him, the Republicans would lose New York, and without New York, they’d lose the election. He had to be placated. So the delegates nominated Chester Arthur, his right-hand man, as vice president.

Conkling told Arthur to refuse the nomination, but Arthur accepted, saying it was a greater honor than he had ever hoped to achieve. That's putting it mildly. The only position he’d ever held was port controller, and he’d been removed from that. Plenty of people thought nominating him was a horrible idea—a man like Chester Arthur only one step away from the presidency? But other people thought it was a shrewd political move—it would placate Conkling’s faction of the party, and Garfield was young and healthy and would rule in a time of peace. It wasn’t like there was any chance he’d die in office.

After Garfield was elected, Arthur immediately started causing problems. He all but openly boasted of buying votes in the election—which was not a great look when it had been a close race. He was completely on Conkling’s side in his war against Garfield. After Garfield appointed Levi Morton, a Stalwart, as Secretary of the Navy, Conkling sent Arthur and another lackey to drag Morton out of his sickbed--forcing him to drink a bracing mixture of quinine and brandy--and bring him to Conkling’s house to get chewed out, which caused Morton to resign. Conkling forced another Stalwart Cabinet nominee to resign on inauguration day.

Then Conkling went to war over the federal appointments. At first, Garfield placated him, appointing several of Conkling’s candidates. But then Garfield nominated Judge Robertson as Port Controller of New York Harbor. Conkling was livid. That was the prime federal position, a major source of Conkling’s power in the party, and Robertson was one of Conkling’s political enemies. In Conkling’s mind, Garfield had stabbed him in the back. Arthur agreed, and openly bad-mouthed the president to the press.

Conkling and the other New York senator resigned their Senate seats in protest—a dramatic political move. In those days, state legislatures voted for senators, and Conkling believed that since he controlled so many New York politicians, they’d easily get re-elected to their old seats. Unfortunately, the legislature was sick of being under Conkling’s thumb. The election became a drawn-out battle, and Chester Arthur went to Albany to help Conkling in his campaign.

While he was there, the unthinkable happened. On July 2, 1881, James Garfield was shot at a train station by Charles Guiteau, an insane office-seeker. Guiteau had come to the White House every day for months seeking an appointment under the spoils system. When that failed, he decided God wanted him to get Garfield out of the way so the spoils system could continue. After he shot the president, Giteau shouted, “I am a Stalwart, and Arthur will be president!”

As you can imagine, that made things really bad for Arthur. He’d just spent months fighting the president tooth and nail, and the assassin had mentioned his name. Plenty of people thought Arthur had something to do with the shooting. He and Conkling both needed police details to protect them from lynch mobs.

Arthur didn’t want to be president; in his mind, vice president was the perfect job—a position with a lot of political leverage, but no responsibility. He went to the White House hoping to convince Garfield that he had nothing to do with the shooting, but the doctors wouldn’t let him in the room. He managed to speak to the First Lady, where he got choked up with emotion and was observed to be in tears. A reporter later found him in the house where he was staying in Washington, and noted he'd obviously been weeping.

To Arthur’s relief, Garfield seemed to get better. The bullet had missed his spinal cord and all his major organs. If he’d been left alone, Garfield would have made a complete recovery. Unfortunately, his doctors repeatedly prodded the bullet wound with unsterilized instruments, and Garfield fell victim to a massive infection. He lingered for months, slowly starving and rotting to death.

Through all this, Arthur stayed in New York and refused to take up presidential duties; with so many people accusing him of the assassination, he didn’t want to make it look like he was preparing to usurp the throne.

It eventually became clear that the assassin had acted alone, which laid the rumors to rest, but no one wanted Arthur to be president. James Garfield had been a man of the people. The working class considered him one of their own, proof that anyone could rise from poverty and become president. He was an idealist, a champion of civil rights, a family man who lived modestly. For the first time since the Civil War, a president had been supported by both the north and the south, and the country had come together in grief. Chester Arthur was Garfield’s exact opposite—a conniving political lackey who’d become a millionaire through corruption.

James Garfield died on September 19th. To the American people, it looked like their worst nightmare had come true. Conkling’s lackey was in the White House, and now Conkling would rule the nation the same way he’d ruled New York.

Yet, to everyone’s surprise, President Chester Arthur became a completely different man. In one of his first speeches, he listed civil service reform as one of his top priorities—a shocking move for a man who’d become president through the spoils system. Soon after Arthur’s inauguration, Conkling demanded he name a new Controller of the Port of New York. Arthur angrily refused and called Conkling’s demand outrageous. Conkling stormed out in fury and never forgave Arthur. (Arthur did later risk his reputation to nominate Conkling for the Supreme Court, but Conkling, ever petty, refused the position.)

Arthur didn’t have a complete personality transplant. He still lived lavishly, hosting lots of state dinners. He still preferred the social duties of the presidency to actual government work, and he was a hopeless procrastinator. Always fastidious, Arthur refused to move in to the rotting, rat-infested White House until they fixed up the dump, and he ran up extravagant bills during the remodel.

Yet, as a president, he was...respectable. He worked for African-American civil rights. He started a major process of rebuilding and reforming the outdated and corrupt navy. He did sign the Chinese Exclusion Act, but he had vetoed an earlier, harsher version and only signed a much-reduced one (that probably would have been voted in anyway if he’d vetoed it). That remodel of the White House, even if it ran over-budget, was long overdue.

Most shocking of all was his unswerving devotion to civil service reform. He continued an investigation into a government postal scandal, even though everyone assumed he’d drop it. He voiced his continuing support for reform efforts. In 1883, Arthur signed the Pendleton Civil Service Reform Act. As written, the act required only 10% of federal jobs to be assigned based on merit, and even that required the president to take action to enforce it. People assumed that Arthur would sit back and do nothing, so the spoils system would remain in place. Yet Arthur immediately formed a commission to enact the reform, even appointing some of his old enemies. The man who’d benefited most from the spoils system became the one to finally destroy it.

How do we explain such a complete and sudden change? Part of it’s a matter of personality. If I can indulge in a bit of meta, Chester Arthur seems to be a textbook example of the sanguine-phlegmatic temperament—someone who wants to fit in with the crowd, to go with the flow. As a political lackey, this made him self-serving and amoral, but as president, the crowd he had to impress was the American people. After months of getting crucified in the press, with tons of articles saying what they didn’t want him to be, he’d have plenty of motivation to become what they did want him to be.

A more important motivation, though, was death. His wife’s death was likely the first shock that would make him step back and take stock of his political career. Garfield’s death had an even more profound influence on him. The spoils system had led a madman to murder a president in Arthur’s name; if anything could motivate a man to change the system, that would be it. Even more profound than that was his own death. Not long after entering the White House, Arthur was diagnosed with a fatal kidney disease. He hid the diagnosis during his term, but his actions in office were the actions of a man doomed to die, with a mind toward the legacy he’d leave behind.

Yet there’s another stranger, more mysterious influence that I’ve left to last because of how cool the story is. The day before his death, Chester Arthur—who’d become ashamed of his old life—asked a friend to burn the vast majority of his papers. Years later, among the papers that had been spared, his grandson uncovered a packet of twenty-three letters from a 31-year-old invalid named Julia Sand. Julia came from a family very interested in politics, and her illness meant that she spent a lot of time reading the newspapers, so she was familiar with Chester Arthur’s political career. In August of 1881, she sent Chester Arthur a letter that began, “The hours of Garfield's life are numbered—before this meets your eye, you may be President. The people are bowed in grief; but—do you realize it?--not so much because he is dying, as because you are his successor.” Over seven pages, Julia scolded Arthur for his corrupt ways, but assured him of her faith in his better nature, and urged him to reform. She sent letters over the next two years, full of encouragement and scolding and political advice. She called herself his “little dwarf”, because her lack of ties to him meant she could be completely honest with him.

There’s no evidence he ever answered her. But she did offer some rather specific political advice that he seems to have followed. And he did visit her once. In 1882, he stopped by her house in the presidential carriage, surprising her and her family (who had no idea she’d been writing to the president) with an hour-long visit. She seemed to grow more frustrated with his lack of answers after that, and no letter exists after 1883.

There’s no way to say what kind of effect the letters had on him. But amid all the turmoil after the assassination, it must have meant something to have one voice saying she believed in him. She was a voice from outside the Washington political machine, who could serve as a sort of conscience. The fact that those letters survived when so much else burned suggests he considered them worth saving.

No matter the reason, the truth remains that Arthur entered the presidency as an example of all that was dirty and loathsome in the political system, and he left it as a respectable man. In giving up his old ways, he sacrificed connections he’d spent years building. His old friends never forgave him, and his old opponents never quite trusted his reform, yet he did what he thought was right even if it meant he stood alone. In summing up his presidency, I don’t think I can do better than contemporary journalist Alexander McClure: “No man ever entered the Presidency so profoundly and widely distrusted as Chester Alan Arthur, and no one ever retired... more generally respected, alike by political friend and foe.” I think that deserves to be remembered.

[mrsmikaelsxn]

Tired

masterlist

pairing: theodore nott x female reader

warning: somewhat angst to fluff, kissing, cursing, jealousy, best friends to lovers, protectiveness, c*rmac mcl*ggen

summary: you were theo's childhood best friend and he waits for a time when you will love him back

a/n: hello lovely people! i am alive and well! i sincerely apologize for not writing in awhile, i just haven't had any motivation to write lmao (this isn't proof read because its really late and i'm tired, so i apologize for any mistakes) (i chose the song below because i've been singing it for weeks and it somewhat relates to theo in this)

song: i'm just ken - ryan gosling

Theodore Nott was tired.

And in love.

With his best friend, nonetheless.

You may be wondering why he was tired. Well, he was tired of feeling upset whenever you called him your best friend. He was tired of hiding how he felt towards you since he was a thirteen-year-old. He was tired of the jealousy that took over him whenever someone flirted or went out with you.

Theodore was tired of many things.

At the moment, he was sat in the Great Hall as Draco complained about his classes. He wasn't listening, though, no he was staring at you as you happily talked with your friends in Hufflepuff.

Someone then sits in the empty spot next to him and pats his shoulder. He tenses slightly and Draco stops talking. They both turn and look at Cormac Mclaggen.

The two Slytherins practically have to hold in their vomit at the mere sight of the Gryffindor.

"Can I help you, Gryffindor?" Theo's eyes narrowed at the hand on his shoulder.

Cormac awkwardly removes his hand and sucks in a breath, a smirk making its way to his face. "You can't, but she can." He tilts his head and his eyes land on you.

Draco and Theo's eyes follow his line of vision and Theo clenches his jaw. "What do you want?"

"I want that friend of yours. And for you to set us up," he shrugs.

Draco glances back and forth between the two boys. He knows how protective Theo is of you, and that this isn't likely going to end well.

"Let me get this straight... you want me to set you up with y/n?" Theodore says with disdain.

"Exactly. Something about her just has me wishing to be in her bed, you know?"

Theo slams his hands on the table, causing some people nearby to look over. He glares at the boy and speaks lowly, "The fuck did you just say?"

"Don't tell me you aren't friends with her to get in her-"

Draco cuts him off before his could finish. "I suggest you don't finish that fucking sentence, Mclaggen."

"I'll take that as my sign to leave. Just let me know whenever you're done with her, I'll be waiting with open arms... and legs," he laughs as he walks out of the Hall.

"Fucking disgusting asshole," Theodore mumbles.

"I can hex him if you want," Draco says. "Maybe get Snape to take points from Gryffindor."

"Both sound good to me."

His eyes make their way back to you and he sees your eyes already on him. You smile brightly at him and he grins back. You turn around so he doesn't see your face warm.

One of your friends, Hannah Abbot, giggles and pokes your cheek. "Someone's blushing."

"Am not!"

"Yes you are. Don't lie," she leans in, "you have feelings for Nott."

"I don't know what you are talking about. We're just friends."

"Mhm." Hannah looks at you with an incredulous face, "I'm pretty sure that friends don't make heart eyes at one another."

You gasp, "Theo and I do not make heart eyes at each other."

Hannah whispers, "I know that you know that you like him. I hope that you believe me when I tell you that he looks at you like he's about to get down on one knee-"

You gently place your hand on her mouth and look at her with wide eyes. "That's enough." You remove your hand but chew on your lip for a second. "Does he look at me like that?"

"Yes! And for the record, I think your children-"

"Merlin! I can't do this today," you drop your head into your hands as Hannah rants about how beautiful your family would be.

It's been two weeks since then and whenever you hung out with Theo, you tried to decipher if he was looking at you the way Hannah has claimed he was.

Theo, however, noticed how you seemed more bright than usual. What had happened that made you more smiley and happy? Did you find someone?

He runs his hands over his face and sighs.

"Theo? Are you alright?"

He sits straighter at the sound of your warm voice. "Yes, love. I was just lost in thought."

"Oh? And what thought has you frowning like a kicked puppy?"

You lean back against the tree behind you and put your legs out straight, crossing your ankles. You pat your lap and Theo places his head down. Your hands start to play with his hair, like muscle memory.

"Nothing your pretty head should worry about," he says quietly as he stares up at the stars. It was past curfew, and you weren't one to break any rules, but how could you say no to your favorite person? Especially when the note was attached to your favorite flower.

"Hm, well I don't like it when you frown. I much prefer to look at your gorgeous smile," you chew the inside of your cheek and start to braid some strands of his hair.

His cheeks turn a light pink and his eyes meet yours. "Gorgeous smile?" He feels a flicker of hope that there's a slight chance you reciprocate his feelings.

"Yeah," you mumble with a light laugh.

He smiles and before he could say anything else, something clicks above him.

You grin as you hold your polaroid camera above his head. "Gotcha."

He fake pouts and tickles your stomach. You burst out laughing and the camera falls to your side, "Theo! Stop, please!" You beg and squirm.

"Okay, since you asked nicely."

"You know, I think I can be tickled to death. I don't know about you, but personally I can't really breathe when I'm being tickled."

He lets out a breath, "I don't know if I can, I haven't been tickled before." He sits up a tiny bit and leans on his elbows.

You huff, "I suppose we'll just have to find out, won't we." You quickly move so that you're next to him and tickling his stomach. His head falls back as he laughs. You smile and he grabs your waist and rolls the two of you over so that he's now on top of you.

Theo gazes down at you. He sucked in a breath at your closeness and couldn't stop his eyes from dropping down to your smiling lips. 'So pretty,' he thinks to himself.

His arms are on both sides of your head and he leans down a bit so that if either of you were to move just an inch, your lips would touch.

"Theo," you whisper breathlessly.

"I really fucking want to kiss you right now," he says quietly.

You look at his lips, "So do it."

Without another word, he connects his lips to yours and both of your eyes flutter shut.

He feels a burst of butterflies fill his stomach. As childish as that may sound, he's had countless scenarios of kissing you. But never would he have expected it to be so perfect as it was.

Your lips were soft and warm. His were too. He slides his tongue across your bottom lip, and you open your mouth happily.

His tongue wanders your mouth and your hands go up and comb through his hair. He lets out a content sigh against your mouth and pulls away the tiniest bit. He gives a shorter and sweet kiss before his tongue is against yours again.

You taste of strawberries and cherries. That was because you ate the two fruits almost every night for dessert.

He tastes like slight cigarette smoke and vanilla, as odd as that may seem.

The two of you could drown in the taste of each other.

Theo pulls away places a gentle kiss on your forehead as he sits up and pulls you against his chest.

He rests his head on your shoulder and kisses your neck. "I love you," he whispers.

You furrow your eyebrows. You've said the three words to one another before, but you hoped he meant it another way. Which you were almost sure of after the kiss. "I love you more."

"No," he shakes his head against your neck. "I'm in love with you."

You feel your heart rate increase and the largest smile is now on your face. "You are?"

"Of course I am. I've been in love with you for years. You don't have to say-"

You turn and face him. "I'm," you kiss his cheek, "in," you kiss the other, "love," you kiss his forehead, "with," you kiss his nose, "you," you finally kiss his lips and Theo melts.

You pull back and look at his blushing face. "Oh!" You just remember your camera and reach over to grab it.

You pull the printed picture from the top and look at the developed photograph. "Look how beautiful you are," you turn the picture to him.

He takes it from your hands and brings it closer to his face. Even he could see the lovestruck look on his face as he admires you from your lap.

"Lets caption it," you say.

"I think you should write, 'first kiss and love confessions'," Theo tilts his head.

"That's perfect," you smile.

"Not as perfect as you, darling," he winks.

You playfully push his shoulder, "I never took you as a sappy one."

He dramatically places a hand over his heart, "Oh how you wound me."

"Will a kiss make you better?" you ask with a glint in your eyes.

"I believe it will, sweetheart."

[0x-cinder]

GN!Reader gets lost for a night. Law isn't very happy when they find their way back to the Polar Tang the next morning....

Content Warnings: mentions of alcohol, angst, a bit suggestive if you look hard enough.

"I would have torn that town to pieces"

You strolled through the town on your way back to Polar Tang, your head throbbing, an after-effect of the night before. You couldn't remember much after Ikkaku handed you your 6th shot of the night. I thought you remembered dancing with her? Or at least…Dancing with someone? The next thing you knew, you awoke hidden inside a hay wagon with no clue how you got there. You chuckled to yourself and vowed never to drink again…At least for the rest of the week. 

As you approached the rocks that served as the hiding place for the yellow submarine, you sighed in relief to see that it was still there. You'd half expected them to have left you there. Law preferred everyone to be present and accounted for on the Tang by nightfall. That said, you were undoubtedly in for a stern talking-to from the Heart Pirates' captain once you boarded. 

Weaving your way around the rocky shore, you spotted Bepo standing on the deck of the Tang and waved. 

The Bear's paws rushed to his mouth in a gasp, and he scrambled to lower the ramp, "They're back!" He called behind him before rushing towards you, trapping you in a tight, fuzzy hug. 

"Bepo…I can't breathe…" You wheezed, squirming to free yourself from his arms.

"Oh!" Bepo gasped, releasing you, "Sorry." 

You stepped back, brushing yourself off. Then you noticed the anxious look painted on the Bear's face as he looked you up and down.

 "What? Is something wrong?" You asked. Had something happened while you were gone?

"You- are you okay?" The bear questioned, still scanning your body for any sign of harm.

"Yeah? I think so? You're making me nervous, Bepo." You replied with a chuckle.

"You were really drunk last night. I turned my back on you for one second to get you some water and you disappeared! No one saw you leave the tavern. The Captain-" Bepo started to ramble. 

Guilt began to creep its way into your consciousness.

"Look who finally showed up." A rough voice resonated from the Tang. 

You peered over Bepo's shoulder to see a very pissed-off Trafalgar Law descending the ramp toward you. Shit. You thought. You'd wanted to at least take a nap before facing the captain's wrath.

"My office. Now." He ordered.

Bepo gave you a sympathetic look as you strode past him to follow Law. "I'm glad you're okay." 

You nodded with a sheepish smile before following your fuming captain onto his ship and into his office, passing multiple crew members who watched you with relieved looks on their faces.

Law opened the door for you. Once you were inside, he followed and closed the door behind him. He then walked to his desk, still completely silent, his back turned to you. You felt the anxiety start to rise in your chest at the uncomfortable silence. 

"Law I'm-" you started to apologize.

"Are you hurt?" He interrupted, clenching and unclenching his inked hands, as though he was trying to release some of his pent-up anger. You'd seen Law angry before, but never this angry. 

You were in some serious trouble. 

"No. I mean, I have a crazy hangover, but-" you began to explain before he cut you off again. 

"Where the hell were you?" 

"Well, I woke up in a hay wagon…I think I may have blacked out. Oops."

Law tensed, balling his hands into tight fists. "You're telling me you were wandering around. Alone. After dark. Drunk out of your mind. Are you insane?" His calm demeanor was starting to scare you. 

"I didn't mean to wander off…At least I don't think I did? I don't remember much from last night." You chuckled nervously, fidgeting with the tips of your fingers.

He spun around to face you, and the pained expression he wore on his face startled you, somewhere between intense worry and seething anger. You stepped backward, but your back hit the wall, preventing you from putting any more space between you and the furious man in front of you.  

"You think this is funny?" Law asked, still maintaining that eerily calm tone, "What if something happened to you? What if someone tried to hurt you or-" he cut off, his voice cracking slightly. He was slowly losing it.

Guilt shot through your body once again and you looked away, beginning to crumble under the pressure of the captain's intense gaze. 

"I guess you'd have to patch me up again then, huh, doc?" You joked, rubbing your arm awkwardly in an attempt to ease the tension that engulfed the room.

Law exploded. In seconds, he moved from the center of the room to hover over you. "This isn't a fucking joke." He seethed, his jaw clenched tight.

You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed yourself against the wall as if you could fall through it and escape this situation. You didn't. He was so close you could feel his rapid breathing on your hair.

"I-" you stumbled over your words. Taking a deep breath before continuing, "I didn't think anyone would-"

Law cut you off by slamming his hand into the wall behind you, making you jump. "Fucking look at me, god damn it!" 

You winced and opened your eyes, slowly bringing your gaze to meet his. His brows were creased with anger, but the vulnerability in his eyes shot a dagger through your heart. 

"You didn't think anyone would what?" he continued after a moment, "That anyone would care? Ikkaku didn't sleep last night. Neither did Bepo. Penguin and Sachi were out until 1AM looking for you, and I-"

He choked.

The doctor's anger softened ever so slightly as he brought his hand up to cup your cheek gently, "I would have torn that town to pieces until I found you if Penguin hadn't-" He paused, taking a deep breath.

Your eyes widened at his words. "Law.." You breathed, "I'm fine- you didn't have to-"

The man cut you off by running his thumb across your lips, his eyes darkened. Your heart pounded as they flickered down to your lips and then back up to meet yours, calculating. Questioning. 

He swallowed. "I'm just.." he trailed off. You could feel his shaky breath against your lips. He leaned closer, bringing his face centimeters away from yours, "terrified of losing you.." he finished.

Then his lips brushed against yours hesitantly. As if he was testing you. Making sure this was okay. 

You closed your eyes and pushed your lips to his, giving him your approval.

That was all Law needed.

Releasing the breath he was holding, he moved his lips against yours desperately, bringing his other hand to the other side of your face, caging you between his calloused hands.

He tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss as you melted into him, running your hands up his chest to rest around his neck.

The doctor let out a muffled groaned as one of his tattooed hands wove its way into your hair while the other slid down to your hips, his thumb slipped under the hem of your shirt igniting a fire that spread throughout your whole body. 

The captain flinched as if something had shocked him. Hesitating for a moment. You bit down on his lip softly, wanting more. He recovered instantly, pulling your hips against his while his other hand grabbed a fistful of your hair. You felt your knees grow weak beneath you, stumbling as they gave out entirely.

Law caught you, sliding his whole hand underneath your shirt to settle on your back, holding you tight against him as his mouth devoured yours; slowly, full of desire and self-indulgence. 

Everything other than him melted away and you moved your hands to rest on his jawline, holding his face, his lips, exactly where they were as you responded with a passion that almost rivaled his.

Eventually, you both remembered you needed to breathe and reluctantly pulled away, your bodies heaving together as you waited for your lungs to catch up. 

The reality of what just happened dawned on you in an instant. You'd just kissed the captain. Heat rushed to your face as your widened eyes met Law's. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair was a mess. The sight made your stomach flutter.

He touched his forehead to yours. "Now do you understand?" he asked breathlessly, his inked thumb drawing small circles over your cheek.

"I think so.." You gave him a nervous smile. "Are you still angry with me?"

"Yes. But I'll get over it." He sighed. "Just don't ever disappear like that again."

[stark-ironman]

I am in love with your writing, and I am also OBSESSED with Hugh, I simply need to give this man five children, anyway, could you please do something with Hugh now, with a younger girlfriend, maybe 21? She's getting pregnant for the first time and being scared, and Hugh is there for her as the sweet and loving man he is 🙏🏻❤️ plss, sorry for the bad english, it's not my first language, tkss

I'll be there for you

A/N: I loved writing this! I wish it was longer but I might come around and do another part to this. I hope you like it! Always remember you can send in more requests!

Warnings: Accidental pregnancy, age gap (reader is 21, I made Hugh 51)

Positive +

Your breath hitches as you look at the four tests laying on the counter. This wasn't supposed to happen, not when you and Hugh made sure to be really careful when having sex because you two agreed on just being friends with benefits, nothing more. There's absolutely no way he wants to have a baby at his age. Not that he's too old but you know he's had other plans for his life that never involved a baby.

Your phone buzzes, pulling you from your thoughts and you read it.

"Come over when you get done. I want to see you." Hugh texts, making you start panicking. Fuck, fuck, fuck... what are you going to tell him? Better yet, how?

Taking a deep breath, you stick the tests in a bag and drive over to Hugh's place, a little slower than normal but you arrive faster than you planned.

"Great to see you, love." Hugh smiles as he hugs you, letting you walk inside and you give him a small smile. "Do you need to put the stuff in the bag up?" He asks. You start fidgeting with the bag, feeling your heartbeat and breath start picking back up.

"Hey, what's wrong? Did something happen? Did I do something wrong?" Hugh starts immediately asking, pulling you in for a hug. Apologies fall from your mouth as tears run down your face, handing him the bag.

He looks at you confused but opens it, pulling the test out while you try to read his face for any kind of emotion. "You're pregnant?" His voice is hoarse as he continues to stare at it. "Yeah, I found it when you texted me earlier." You sniffle, wrapping your arms around yourself. "Well, what do you think about it?" He asks.

"I don't know. I know you didn't want anymore kids, especially with someone as young as me. I wasn't even sure if I wanted kids and now..." Your voice trails off and he motions for you to continue, "Now I want to keep the baby. I know you probably don't want to but I'll raise the baby by myself and I-" Hugh cuts you off by kissing you, running his hand through your hair.

"I never thought I would want kids again but being with you these past several months has made me question what I want out of life. I know I'm too old for you.. fuck, we probably should've never gotten together but I can't help but feel a deep love for you. I've loved you for a long time now but I was okay with being your fuck buddy. I want this life with you and our baby too. We can have as many babies as you want if it meant I get to be with you." Hugh confesses, not caring that he's rambling.

You stand on your tiptoes, kissing him softly. "I love you too, Hugh. I want this life with you. I've never cared about your age and that won't change, ever." He smiles at you, leaning down and pressing his lips against your stomach.

[greeneyessmize]

Today's thoughts are of the youth of Penelope & Colin and how it affects their relationship, specifically: how they fight.

Penelope is maybe 20 at most. Colin is perhaps 23.

They are also a part of the upper class. This allows them essentially a longer childhood in some ways for the era. They are emotionally pretty on par with a somewhat shy and sheltered 18 year old today who has never had a relationship and a 20 year old college kid who was also a bit hiddenly shy but has dated around a bit.

This means that neither of them have ever had to compromise on a larger, but intimate, and more important scale.

They don't know how to fight from a place of common goal. This is what they have to learn together.

I am going into detail with how this affects multiple scenes, so here is a cut for everyone. :)

Pen & Colin only know fighting with siblings, parents, friends, and enemies. So they know fight against, not fight for.

Penelope specifically only knows how to fight by false retreat and full opposition.

Her false retreat is seen most clearly in her use of Lady Whistledown. This is where she cocoons herself outwardly but lets her anger fly using precisely cloaked arrows. Her LW comments on Colin's fakeness upon his return to Mayfair showed a lethal strike.

Her full opposition fights are seen in her arguments with Eloise, both over her yelling that yes she does want to be married some day and then when Eloise confronted her about being LW, and then in her fights with Colin over LW.

When she and Colin fight in the middle of the street the night before their wedding, Pen goes full opposition, even going up on the high step to put her on the same level as Colin as much as possible. She does not retreat, she does not shrink. She goes conflict blow to conflict blow with him. She apologizes but does not bend or break. There is no compromise to be found because they are fighting against, not for. As one raises their voice, the other matches. There will not be a winner, but they don't know that.

Colin's fighting styles are either full shutdown, or like Pen, full opposition.

His full opposition fight with Pen in the middle of the street shows that he also will not back down. Each thing Pen says, he counters until she loudly declares the one thing he can't refute: that she loves him.

You also see that he is unwilling to compromise in his full shutdowns. He won't even try to talk to Pen after they are married during the nights and mornings where he places himself on the settee. He doesn't know how to say what he desperately needs to express to her in any constructive way. So. He stays on the settee, as close as he can to Pen, but unable to engage with her.

When she tries to engage with him, like at the review of the wedding breakfast planning, and it is she who makes the majority of the attempts, Colin still only knows how to go full opposition and/or full shutdown. Pen tries to answer him honestly when he asks if she will end LW because she really doesn't know. But since he can't give her grace to understand her on this... It only leads to more teary eyes and more distance.

On their wedding day, their tenuous truce after the middle of the street argument is broken in their fight after the Queen's threats. Here we see Penelope go full opposition and proclaim clearly and for the first time that she is Whistledown. And then Colin ultimately reacts with full shutdown, saying he will sleep on the sofa/settee.

The morning after their wedding, Colin is teary-eyed, taking tea fully dressed on the settee where he clearly spent the night. He leaves Penelope abruptly while she is still undressed for the day, intending to leave her out of his plans for the day. He definitely saw she was upset by this. I do wonder if that gave him a bit of dark satisfaction.

When Penelope comes to Bridgerton House to inform Colin of Cressida's blackmailing, Penelope gives way when Colin focuses his full opposition towards Cressida instead of her. Granted it takes a few times of being ignored, but she doesn't yell and ultimately lets it go. You can see that it hurts her to let Colin disregard her wishes, but she still ultimately allows it until he messes it all up. In this debacle they both learned to step back from full opposition between each other.

Penelope realized that even when it does not end well, sometimes she must let Colin have his way. Colin realized that not listening to Pen is where mistakes are made. Neither of them are yelling anymore.

Then comes the day of Francesca and John's wedding. It's not until she doesn't give him the reaction he thinks he wants that morning, as he is forlornly laying on the settee... that we see a shift. She does not react with regret or sadness or pain or anger. Pen is calm, cool, collected. She says she will spare him the confined shared carriage to Bridgerton House. She breezes out of his reach while he is still processing this new development.

Colin takes an important step by going to reread all of Penelope's letters. This is something he did not do in anger. He did this so he could gain perspective. This is his realization that full shutdown is ineffective and is not doing anything he wants or needs.

Penelope also is taking a step forward. She recognizes that false retreat and cloaked attacks are only increasing her own damage. She appeals to Colin with earnestness and honesty after the wedding of Francesca & John. She and he both refrain from moving into full opposition fighting this time. They are listening to each other. Colin asks what Penelope needs from him. She answers with everything he has needed to hear. He tells her what he needs, she listens. They are looking at a common goal. She moves forward with her plan to confess to the queen.

Then after her confession to the Ton at the Butterfly Ball, Penelope does the one thing for Colin that she can think of to heal the wounds of their fighting: she offers to let him go.

This is not something either of them ever wanted. But Penelope offers it because she truly feels, that with their very little communication through this, that Colin must want freedom from her. She cannot see through the pain they have inflicted on one another.

Colin immediately recognizes that now is the moment he must say everything in his heart. He has a moment of panic, of potential loss. Through everything he has always wanted and loved Penelope. He just had no idea how to show it while he was also angry. But now he has let go of his anger, and he will deal with it better should it happen that he is angry again.

Colin does what he needs to most. He tells her everything he is feeling. They are honest with each other. They have their common goal. They won the fights together.

[acid-ixx]

FOAMING IN THE MOUTH AT THE FIRST CHAPTER!! the way you wrote dick still imagining reader as a small child because thats the only time he remembered them as is SO GOOD. i am living for the angst and desperation in this fic, and i can't to see how each of them react to the situation, especially damian because he and reader have the sane blood. when dick texted reader pretending everything is cool and like he didn't ignore them for thirteen years is a such a good concept. i can only imagine reader screaming on the other side because of opening the message accidentally lol. i cant stop thinking about how the reader's reaction to the text message would be like, finally moving on and healing and then boom! the trauma resurfaces and dick having the audacity to reach out while reader is having a breakdown, confused and scared for what'll happen next. sorry for filling up ur inbox!! i wrote a lot more than i thought oops take care of yourself and remember to takes breaks!!!! <3

reader when the self destructive impulses kicks in because of a family they have long gave up on finally started to notice them the moment they have moved on: 😧

no because dick grayson would infantilize you to the max. not in a "you're a toddler" way but rather he sees you as his innocent baby that he failed to guide and protect. he truly wants you to see him as the same person you view him as years ago, not wanting to be any less in the eyes of his baby bird <3

he'll admit that the things he's done is a shit move, constantly denying you when his entire schedule is flexible for the family but you.

so he should've expected to be blocked, but he just can't stomach it at all that his baby bird didn't even hesitate to cut him off in an instant! it just furthers his protective nature to a t and if it wasn't for damian suddenly appearing by the door, dick would've spiraled into insanity deeper.

what i mean by insanity is; he wouldn't sleep for days tracking you down, then he'll take you away from your wretched home and bring you back rightfully where you belong.

meanwhile, on the other side of gotham, you'd be on the verge of a panic attack, nearly splurging your guts out and trying to calm yourself with relaxation techniques. you quite literally couldn't walk straight without stumbling to the bathroom because holy shit imagine your brother whom you haven't nearly talked to for years suddenly called you! with cryptic messages no less that never implied your family's years of neglect towards you. i would be smashing my phone across the room, to be honest.

the moment he's turned a full yandere, damian would be really deep into the "blood is thicker than water" ideology when it comes to you. he'll apologize to you, glare plastered on his face and all, but compared to the others, his apology sounds so genuine yet condescending at the same time. you both are of the same blood, save for the fact that you share different mothers but that doesn't matter— he should be the favorite.

not dick, not jason, not tim, or anybody else for that matter. and he'll be shoving it in your face that he's the youngest so you should be obligated to baby him. and even if you dare make a point on how he had called you immature for your age multiple times, damian would find a way to guilt trip you and it would always fucking work. to avoid further spoilers, i wouldn't want to expand on his character traits but damian would be the worst type of pain in the ass, near the levels of dick.

[rae-writes]

when it's time for mc to return to their original timeline how do you think the [nightbringer] characters would react if mc told them that they were from future and it's time for them to go back to the present timeline and that they'd meet them then

The common room was silent— so silent, it sounded like the entire Devildom was sleeping all at once. There was tension so thick you could cut it by just swiping at the air- there were eleven pairs of eyes trained onto Mc; the single tear that dripped down their face was like a harsh shock wave.

"I'm sorry...but I have to leave- I have to go back to my timeline now..I'll see you again when I return, okay? I promise."

Lucifer is absolutely flabbergasted, red eyes wide as he scanned your face for any signs of humor, but you weren’t joking. His hands trembled uncharacteristically, fingers twitching as he stretched his arm out to try and grab at you; "What do you mean you have to go? Don't...your place is here, with us, you can't leave- what the hell do you mean you'll see me 'when you return', I'm me! I'm right here! Don't go-!"

Mammon doesn't fully process your words, only really catching the part where you said you had to leave. He feels nauseous and scared as he immediately begins to stammer and stumble over to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer so he can feel that you’re still there; "Y-you can't leave! Why would you want to leave- your home is here, you belong with us- with me- I'm right here, where are you going? Don't leave me behind! I-I need you! Please!"

Levi instantly has tears in his eyes, too preoccupied with watching you start moving away from him to realize you said you’d see him again. His tail whips out to circle your waist, arms frantically grabbing at you as he cries; "W-w-wait-! D-don't go, don't leave...did I do s-something- a-are you leaving because of m-me? I-I'll fix it, I p-promise, just please don't go..."

Satan's first instinct is to get angry- to throw a fit and throw anything in reach and scream and lash out, but he just stands there staring at you. He understands the concept of time travel and other timelines- he's read all about it- and essentially knows that he'll see you in less than a minute once you go back, and yet...; "Leaving...? You're leaving? I- I don't...I don't want you to go..don't-...just..Mc, please."

Asmo hears everything you're saying, but he just doesn't understand! He practically curls his whole body around you as he stutters through his denial, trying so hard not to cry because it would ruin his makeup; "What do you mean you're leaving, hon? Time travel is nonsense..you belong here, with us! Y-you're not actually going to leave me, right? Not me...don't leave me.."

Beel immediately panics as his thoughts run rampant about losing you and never getting to see you again, despite you assuring him that you'd see him very soon- he can't lose someone close to him again, not you- and the way he grabs onto you shows his desperation; "No! I-I mean...no, you can't leave us- why would you leave us? I thought you were at home here, with us, please...I can't lose you, too..."

Belphie, like his twin, is panicking- but he's in a hysterical panic. He breaks down into sobs and apologies right at your feet- apologizing for any time he was snippy with you and especially the time he got so mad he almost hurt you after finding out you were human- he's so sorry, just..don't leave-!; "No, no, no! You can't! You can't leave us, please, don't leave, I'm sorry! I'm sorry for everything I've done wrong to you- just don't leave me! Please, don't leave me..."

Diavolo understands the concept of what you're saying, though it's still hard for him to grasp the fact that you're leaving to go back to a different him...why couldn't you just stay with him in this 'timeline'? Didn't...didn't you still like him either way?; "What...what? Mc, I don't understand...just stay. Here. With- with me, with us, I don't...why must you go back? Don't you like it here?"

Barbatos shouldn't be worried. He knows exactly what you're talking about and what you mean by 'see you again when I return' and yet he can't help but feel at a loss, torn between letting you just walk away or trying to stop you- he doesn't want you to go back to future him...he wants you here with this him; "I...wait, Mc..don't-...don't go back. Stay, please..I know I'll remember the time we spent together here when you return, but I...I don't want to let you go.."

Simeon is in an odd state between panicked and calm. One on hand, he trusts you. If you say you promise you'll see him again- whatever that means- he believes you. But on the other hand, he's already lost so much in life and he can't possibly bear to lose you too, so he grabs you and holds on tightly; "Go? What do you mean 'go'? I...Mc...I don't want to let you go..I don't want you to leave- please stay...with us. With me."

Luke's confusion dances across his face as he latches onto your waist, firing a thousand questions at once, as fast as he can speak them; "What do you mean you're leaving? How can you see me when you 'return'- what does that even mean?! I'm the only me...and I'm right here- where...where are you going?! Don't leave me! I don't want you to go!"

bonus :

Solomon is there to wrap his arms around your waist tightly for comfort, keeping the others from coming too close; he can't let them take you away from him- won't let them convince you to stay. Your place is in your own timeline, with the present versions of them, with him. He promised he'd bring you back home with him and no one is going to stop him; "Come on, Mc...let's go. We need to go- this is what we've been working towards remember? You'll see them in less than a second once we go through the portal. I'm here with you, I'm not ever going to leave your side. You trust me don't you? Let's go home. Together."

[nmn-yty]

— ๋࣭ ⭑࿐ first time ｡o♡⋆˚｡⋆.

read part 1: here!!!

pairing: lee know x reader

summary: caring for a bunny seemed harder than you thought

tags: 「SFW! fluff! (ik the title is misleading but i promise this is all fluff!) | hybrid!lee know | referring to lee know as minho | soft!lee know (he's even cuter in this one) | hyper lee know>< | bunny bath time! | the neediest bunny ever | another sweet little kiss! | reader has no gender」

word count: 1.7k

a/n: back at it again! ik ive said it so many times throughout my blog but im truly thankful for all the likes and reblogs(◞‸◟)♡ this will not be the last of my bunny lee know endeavor but stay tuned for more hybrid, skz, and kpop stories in the meantime! also keep in mind that ive never owned any pets so the animal behavior is based on memory of things ive seen online, dont come for me pls>< anyways, i hope this one lives up to the hype of the first part, enjoy!!! (also i apologize for not posting sooner><)

+ stylized lowercase, missing punctuation (not done on purpose), and minimal revisions

a few days in and the days seemed to get harder and harder for you. not because minho was causing you any trouble, but because the fluttery feeling in your stomach kept growing the more you spent time with him. it was scary how perfect he was in every way.

you were sitting on your couch enjoying a nice hot drink, when the familiar sound of thumping on the wood floor caught your attention. you looked down to find a playful bunny minho. he was scurrying around your feet, even moving his paws to your legs.

"what's wrong?" you set your drink down on the table in front of you.

minho kept on pawing at your legs. you reached down to pick him up, placing him in your lap.

"i can't understand you when you're in the form, you know?"

he looked up at you with a nonchalant expression, you expected nothing out of him. before you knew it, you had a hybrid minho sitting in your lap bridal style, hands wrapped around your neck. the weight and size change startled you, but he loved to tease you and transform whenever he pleased.

"can i please go outside for a bit?" he was really bouncy and sounded out of breath. you had to remind yourself that he was a wild animal. although you took him in to stay in your house, his animal instincts couldn't be suppressed.

"okay, but only for a little-" he cut your sentence off by changing back into a bunny, still knocking you off guard.

he scurried off your lap and towards the back hallway, scratching at the door for you to open it. he looked back at you with those big dark eyes. they always sparkled perfectly in the right lighting. seeing him being all hyper as an animal was truly so endearing. you've always wanted someone like him in your life. the universe definitely planned out your lives to be intertwined.

you rolled your eyes from his fast movements and got up. the second you opened the door wide enough for him to fit, he dashed out onto the grass. it has still been snowy for the past couple of days, but today the grass held a light layer of snow from earlier that day.

he was hopping around the entire yard, sniffing around bushes, chewing on some of the obtainable food he could get his mouth on. you could see the footprints and tracks beginning to circle around the snow. the whole surface of your yard was being fully inspected by him.

you couldn't help but sit down by the steps of your back porch. hugging your knees in admiration, you followed minho's path all throughout the whole time you were out there. you couldn't help but get flustered about the racing thoughts in your mind. something as simple as watching him be comfortable in his environment made you feel at ease.

what you didn't know was minho found himself wanting to be human more for the both of you. it was exhausting for him at times, but he couldn't help but laugh with you, smile with you, feel with you. he never got to experience these moments with anyone before. he wanted each adventure with you to last for hours.

he looked up to find you staring at him, which made his heart race faster than it normally should. draining energy fast, he flopped on his back, waving his paws and feet in the air. getting a chuckle out of you from the distance, he felt satisfied. the sudden urge to dig overwhelmed his thoughts, getting back to his feet and digging straight down from where he was standing.

luckily, you had your mind to distract you from his actions. he started to go feral, getting the dirt and snow all over his face.

drifting away from your daydream, you found your white fluffy bunny turning brown from the dirt and snow.

"minho, no!" you quickly ran over to him, making him realize he was likely in big trouble. thinking two steps ahead, he dove out of your attempt to grab him. shocked and stunned, you still chased after him. he was running steadily back towards the house. the universe was on your side though, as the back door was closed and all minho could do was try to reach up and grab the handle. however, being in his small form, he failed miserably.

"cmon silly," you bent down to grab the squirming animal in your arms, the warmth from your body making him docile and shut down.

once you got to the bathroom upstairs, you gently set minho on the floor. his eyes were slowly closing and he tried his best to keep them open again. before he could fall asleep, he jolted himself awake, which unfortunately turned him into his hybrid form.

"do you want me to take my clothes off so you can bathe me?"

his question made you whip your head around in shock, stuttering nonsense to try and distract yourself from the image of himself being naked in front of you.

"dont be difficult... turn into a bunny so i can wash you quickly."

he let out a small whine, almost like it was his plan all along to get dirty and have this scenario go his way.

you crossed your arms and gave him a dissatisfied look. you weren't really mad at him, you just wanted the day to end quicker so you two could snuggle in bed together.

one big movement turned him small again, he hopped onto your legs, as you had knelt down to get comfortable. you turned on the water in your bathtub and ran some warm water about two or three inches from the bottom. placing him inside the tub, you grabbed a cup to scoop up the water onto his body. the first rinse was quick, he even shook some water off himself like a dog which made you smile.

the scrubbing process also went by fast, working your fingers gently through his coat, the dirt coming off completely. you picked up the cup again, filling it with water. washing the soap away, he shook his body again, trying to dry up as fast as he could.

"calm down minho! ill dry you off in a second."

the water beginning to flow down the drain, you picked up a sopping wet minho from the tub and placed him on the rug next to you. the towel to dry him was hanging on the side of the tub. you laid it flat against your lap, picking him up again and placing him on top of the towel.

you wrapped him up in the towel, trying your best not to cover up his face. you patted and rubbed the cloth into his body, making sure to cover all the spots. his ears, his tail, and his paws all becoming dry and fluffy again.

he hopped off of your lap, turning to his hybrid form. this time you expected something from that big of a leap. you were starting to learn and master his behaviors. he was sat on the floor facing you. for some reason, his hair and ears were still wet in this form. he held one of his ears out, squeezing it to wring out the remaining water off himself. you got to your knees and threw the towel over his head. going a little harder this time, you scrubbed his hair dry to the best of your ability. you noticed him closing his eyes in comfort, especially when you got to his ears.

he looked up at you through his messy hair. he hummed softly, he was so happy you were taking such good care of him. not noticing at all, when you removed the towel his bunny ears went away. he was noticeably more dry and your job was done. you turned around slightly to drape the towel on the tub again.

he let out a cute yawn, so ready to flop into bed and get some sleep. when you turned back around you couldn't help but notice some brown specks on his face. did he have freckles this whole time and you were just too star struck to notice? you reached out to rub his face, making him freeze and have his full semi-conscious attention to your actions. the specks turned to brown streaks against his skin.

"youve been digging so much in the dirt, come here."

he scooted over to you, patiently waiting for anything to happen next. you realized now his nose and cheeks were lightly covered in dirt. you reached over for a new towel and quickly turned the faucet on to run some water on it. swiping the warm cloth on his cheeks, his face became very pink. you didn't know if it was because of the pressure you applied to his face, or if he was actually having some emotional reaction to this.

his gaze was so sensual, almost like his mind had gone to mush and he could only display emotions of pure submission. his thoughts became chaotic, trying to resist the urge to tackle you and have you all to himself.

after a while you could feel your face burning up, scared about any of his next moves or words.

"why are you looking at me like that?" the dirt was almost gone. you moved closer to his face, only inches away in order to get the last bits off.

minho didn't answer you, instead he stared more intensely at you, patiently waiting for you to finish. putting the towel down, you gently rubbed the wetness off his face. even more skin to skin contact was making him lose control. the hue of pink showing from his face becoming almost cartoon like.

"mm tired," his eyes began to droop again. he wanted his last conscious thought to be that he was secure next to you. as dramatic as ever, he laid out his body in your lap, slowly beginning to drift off and finally recharge.

this feeling was starting to become a natural occurrence in your daily lives. whether he was a small bunny, a cute hybrid, or a human who could actually sweep you off your feet, you had him. he felt safe around you and wanted to be near you. using one hand to meet his hand, rubbing it gently to soothe him, you used your other hand to play with his hair. even as a human, he was still soft and cuddly. you bent down to place a small kiss on his head, making him nuzzle himself deeper into you.

part 3 is up! click here!!!

♥︎taglist: @lailac13 @palindrome969 @lunathewonyoungstan @syedazarintasnim @yourlocalstayyxi @mmarusa @yukichan67 @qwonyoung23 @cupidcures @verynormalsstuff @leezanetheofficial

© nmn-yty ★ 6.07.2024

[literaila]

kitchen scene

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: the aftermath (and more)

warnings: if it doesn't make sense i can't help! they are their own people! they do what they want! (kissing)

last part | next part

*

year four.

it's quiet, you think. but it isn't, really. 

despite the early hour, your brain has put in overtime, has woken up before your alarm, and every thought is louder than it should be. every concern, every foolish ideation, every word you need to say-- 

there's a creak in the floor, and then a yawn. "kids aren't up yet?" 

"not yet." 

satoru leans on the counter across from you, lying on it. 

you almost smile, then catch yourself. 

you snuck out of bed fifteen minutes ago--leaving him to chill to death. you weren't sure if you should stay there or not. if you should force him to say something, force yourself to say something else. 

but the ways you've communicated with satoru have always been out of the ordinary. 

always more about the unsaid, the unspoken truths, than the ones you're willing to admit. 

and you want to apologize to him for last night--for the past month, for letting any of it happen. but you don't want to break the gentle bridge between the two of you. stomp all over it before you've finished putting it together. 

and really, you just want to talk to him about nothing. you just want him there. want him to stop hiding from you. 

so, right now, you decide, you'll take whatever you can get. 

even if it's him whining on the kitchen island, long limbs almost touching the cutting board you're working on. 

then he leans up again, groaning. "is this puberty?" 

you continue to cut up the fruit you're working on but glance at him briefly, with a brow raised.  

satoru sighs, hands in waving in the air as he speaks. "'cause of the excessive sleeping and stuff. isn't that what happens?" 

"weren't you a kid at some point?" 

his voice is rough from sleep, and he's still in his clothes from yesterday. but he doesn't seem to mind that you trapped him in your room, and slept on his arm all night--till it was probably numb. 

satoru looks casual. simple and disheveled--your favorite version of him. "it's unclear," he grins at you. 

"it's only nine," you say, peeking at the clock. "and they stayed up late." 

"you let them?" satoru gasps mockingly. 

"i don't let them do anything. they're master manipulators." 

"thought we weren't supposed to name-call the children." 

"you're not," you tilt your head at him. "i can do whatever i want." 

"that's dangerous logic." 

you roll your eyes. 

"hey," he says, coming to stand right next to you. "are we feeding an army?" 

you wave your knife at him, threateningly. "you ever heard of leftovers?" 

"nope." 

"okay," you turn again. "how about leaving me alone?" 

satoru hums. "mmm, doesn't ring a bell."

"of course it doesn't," you say, sighing. 

"hey," satoru says, again. 

"what?" 

"look at me?" 

you pause, but turn slowly, meeting satoru's eyes like hitting a bullseye with an arrow. 

he's already smiling at you. he looks so boyish, so young that it makes you want to look away immediately. but you don't, because he asked. 

and he's always had some weird hold on you. 

it takes only a moment for him to tug you in by the hem of your shirt, you tripping over the two steps it takes to near him. then his arms wrap around your waist and you're really looking up at him. 

staring at him, while he stares back at you. 

"what?" you ask, softly. you swallow, trying to push down that aching feeling. you don't want that here, thank you, not right now. 

satoru breathes for a moment, checking every inch of your face, looking for something that probably isn’t there. 

then he sighs, almost reluctantly, and his lip curls. "i missed you," he admits to you, slowly. 

you can see it in his eyes--the way they flicker away for a moment, searching for something else--that it's a silly thing to admit. so stupid that satoru feels embarrassed by it. 

but your cheek twitches. "you did?" 

"mm-hmm," he tilts his head at you. "where else could i find someone obsessed with me? i don't think there's a market for that..." 

your face drops. you make a face at him, then turn, with him still wrapped around you. "hmm," you wonder, looking around. your heart beats harder when his fingers curl even deeper into your skin. "where did i put it?" 

"put what?" 

"the receipt." 

satoru is looking at you quizzically, like you've lost your mind, and you smile at him. 

"i think i want to return you," you say, with a cheeky smile. "buyer's remorse and all." 

satoru groans, but you giggle, maybe because you haven't felt like this--this content and happy--in weeks. he hasn't held you this close in so long and it just feels right. 

"are you laughing at your own joke?" he asks you, "your own bad joke?" 

"aww," you tap his nose. "it's okay, satoru. comedy is a talent, you know. it doesn’t come naturally to all.”

satoru rolls his eyes, but he doesn't say anything else, doesn't move his hands from you, or quip back. 

it’s easy to feel that hesitance—the chill in the air. the two of you are so good at letting go of things (keeping them forever), forgetting about what matters (never talking about it). but you’re not good at this. 

you’re not good at making up with satoru. at being mad at him in the first place. 

you don’t know how to… do this with him. to live with the mistakes and not regret anything you’ve said. you don’t know how to be vulnerable and pretend like it’s normal. 

and you don’t know how to love him like you do. you’re not even really sure what love is. 

but it doesn’t matter, anyway. 

none of it does. 

satoru’s mouth moves like he knows what you’re thinking—like he’s already sure of what you’re going to say next. he’s read all of your battle moves, he knows what foot you lean on before you punch. 

and he’s looking at you like you're a portrait. smiling like he's about to make a bid for you.

when he looks at you like that you forget everything that matters. 

"what?" you ask, so softly it's barely there. 

his hands are on your hips, fingers tracing the skin and bones there, mass and muscle. he's doing it on purpose, you know. trying to drive you crazy. 

satoru shakes his head, but he's still smiling. 

"no, really. what?" 

you’ll take any answer just to get over this quivering in your chest. the fear that something might happen. 

the fear that it won’t. 

"nothing," he says, and you can see his tongue. it’s pink and his teeth are white. and you’ve never missed a thing about satoru, but this seems like a new idea. 

is he a real person? is he really standing there? 

"satoru..." 

"yeah?" 

you might not be breathing. you might not be anything but mere air, something to pass right through. 

you try not to lean back from him. to run away. "nothing..." you whisper, trying to keep your cool. 

you don’t want to beg him. don’t want to push him too far. 

but it only takes a second, really. 

one moment satoru is staring at you, some crazed look in his eyes, a beautiful smile adorning his face. he's teasing you and trying to get you to break. 

trying to trick you into pulling him in yourself. trying to test the boundaries between the two of you—things that you’ve never put up. 

one moment, he’s just your too-close best friend. 

and the next moment your eyes are closed, and his lips are on yours. 

he's softer than you thought. warmer. 

satoru is on fire. you’re sure that he’s going to scar your skin, that you’re going to blister and burn into something less than ashes—still, you don’t move. 

you’ve always been too cold, you think. 

it takes no thinking, no consideration to kiss him right back. because you've done this before--in dreams and fantasies--and you know exactly how he kisses. 

like he's wanted you forever. like he's been waiting just as long for this. like he’s not afraid of anything. 

so strong and overbearing and too much— 

he's soft, and his movements are short, exact. satoru is mathematical in the way he kisses you. so very sure. 

you breathe out into his mouth, and every single moment of worrying about him, loving him from afar--it disappears. just like you knew—like he knew—it would. 

he smiles against your lips, because he’s always been able to read your mind, and you pull back. your lips hurt (they are so cold without him there, so ready for more).

his eyes are very close, blinding, and you can see the way he's looking at you now. the way his gaze changes from your eyes to your lips, the way he's breathing. 

there’s an apology on his face, a million secrets he won’t admit out loud—not yet. but you don’t care. you don’t need anything from him but this. 

your hand is on his chest so you can feel his heart, how fast it’s beating, 

yours echoes back, calling out to him. 

"satoru," you whisper, because it's the only word in your head. 

just him. 

"hmm?" he asks, nose brushing against yours. 

neither of you make any harsh movements. you don't move too quickly, don't say anything before you can think about it. and, really, you know that if you push this too far it will break--that this singular moment is so fragile. 

but it's so goddamn easy. 

and all you want to do is kiss him again. 

"why do you taste like watermelon?" 

"toothpaste is a wonderful invention..." he says, as he leans in again. 

and he kisses you. 

he kisses you slowly like he wants to savor every second. in no world would you ever push him away from this, in no world would you ever retreat once you've gotten this far. 

you can feel it as he breathes. can feel every inhale and exhale because he shares them with you. 

it’s more than sharing secrets. more than sharing your lives. 

you suddenly realize how insignificant it is to pine from afar. to love him without really understanding this. 

and maybe this means more than words can say. 

maybe that's why your hand moves to linger at the curve of his jaw, just grazing him with your fingertips, wanting to pull him closer and never touch him again. 

you know this is going to hurt. 

satoru pulls back, just so he can brush his lips against yours as he asks, "good?" 

you try to swallow, catch your breath. 

you want to smile like you've never smiled before. you want to break records, crash down walls, just to keep him right there.

what do you have to lose?

"yeah," you tell him, leaning in again. "good." 

*

next part | series masterlist

[teojira]

Really enjoyed your headcanons on Caeser and Proximus, do you mind doing the same with Noa?? 😊🙏

[Noa and day to day life with him!] [Headcanons!]

Summary: Noa takes you back with him to his home, and the clan accepts you as one of them. Even if you're concerned otherwise.

Word count: 1k (Jesus christ)

Warnings: None that I can think of! Can be read as Platonic or Romantic! You and Noa are attached to one another. (Yes, this is me projecting.)

A/N: Noa is so near and dear to me, I literally did not mean for this to be so long, and I STILL cut myself off. This is 1k words worth of headcanons for him, and it is not enough. I'm Noa's #1 fan, I am sorry to all my friends and family who have to hear me talk about him constantly.. Ask me for Noa anything, and I will give you the world.

Do me a favor and strap the fuck in for this it's alot.

I am so glad someone asked about Noa bc I got ALOT to say.

Noa has had it with humans, Mae put him, his clan, and countless others at risk, he should not trust humans, really he shouldn't, but he can't help it. She also betrayed you in the process, and now you're alone.

You agreed to help him and Mae against Proximus, you're the only one who actively goes up against Proximus as well.

Swinging and trying your best to try and get Proximus off of Noa, yelling and crying while the other apes just stare in fear. (Later on they apologize, but you don't hold it against them.)

It's a huge risk to invite a human with them again, but then he remembers Rakas words, Caesars words, and decides he can't told another's decisions over you.

So when he gently grabs your hand in his, looking down at you with a strained smile, blood seeping from his lips, you follow, back to his clans land.

Now on to the good stuff, it's kinda awkward finding your place among the eagle clan, the elders are gone, his father Koro is gone, there really is no guidance as to where to place you.

You drift mostly, either helping Dar or helping with the young ones, teaching them how to read and write, helping fish, farm, the basic tasks.

Dar loves you by the way, doting on you and making sure no one messes with you in a harmful way. She teaches you their customs and traditions, all the while playfully teasing you about Noa. She's a mom, she knows.

You're happy with your work, happy with your place among the clan. It's genuinely shocking how much they were willing to forgive and to not hold any grudges against humans after one ruined everything.

It helps that Noa takes accountability for you, somehow so trusting that you will not cause harm. His faith in you speaks volumes and you remind him everyday that it won't go to waste.

All he does is send you a sweet smile and ruffles your hair.

You find yourself helping Noa alot with crafting new tools and contraptions, being a second pair of eyes that can catch onto things he can't.

"Very smart." "Thank yo-" "For an Echo." and he does that stupid cute little sniff afterwards and it makes it tremendously hard to hit him.

He's such a little shit I fucking hate him.

You're his shadow when his duties permit, he's taken on a higher role of the clan, sometimes going out for days at a time but you're always at the edge of the Village waiting for his return, anxiously working your bottom lip until you see him in view.

You're both extremely attached to one another, Soona and Anaya become attached to you too, dragging you along in everyone's free time to go climbing, to eat, to hunt, just about any group outing has you as their fourth member.

Noa was worried about them accepting you, but they love you just as much as he does.

It makes his heart swell when he sees you and Soona together, giggling about something surely only you both understand while Anaya groans and complains about being left out.

It's like you've always been meant to be with them, to round out their group.

Soona and Anaya will offer to be the one to carry you this time, they do want to, genuinely, but Noa won't let them 99.9% of the time, He's used to your weight, he trusts that he can keep you safe the best. (Says the ape that literally almost died multiple times doing stupid shit)

"Noa worries too much, they will be fine." "Anaya is clumsy. Can't trust you to carry yourself, much less echo."

He tries not to carry you everywhere, but it is so much more convenient than waiting for you, so he scoops you up often enough that the stares don't bother you anymore.

Remember how in the movie, all the apes sleep together communally? Well you're at first extremely nervous about that, not wanting to ask what exactly are your accommodations because surely they don't want you there with them.

Actually, Noa does, so jot that down.

When you shyly move away, he raises his palm up at you, nodding to the space besides him.

When you don't move, he gently tugs you down, laying on his back and shutting his eyes. The clan hasn't really fully rebuilt and started to gather things needed for shawls and coverings, so it's not strange to him that you cuddle up to him to steal his warmth, peeking an eye open to see your face squished into his side, knocked out.

He wraps an arm around you, incasing you in more warmth.

This is a nightly routine until you finally take it upon yourself to throw yourself on him, he chokes out a breath as you make yourself comfortable.

Soona and Anaya usually join in, he cannot fucking breathe but he's so happy that it outweighs it.

When Mae inevitably shows back up, she sees you out in the distance, you look so genuine happy, so at peace with where you are. You even have some eagle feathers in your hair, integrated into their life that it shocks her.

It's enough to make her put the gun away, grasping at Rakas necklace like a lifeline, sucking in a deep breath to stop her from crying.

Maybe apes and humans can live at peace with one another after all. She hopes you prove her wrong.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Sfw and nsfw alphabet headcanon for Logan!! PLEASEE

-🌸🌸🌸

I live laugh LOVE this idea omggg

Sfw

A for aware. Logan is always, always, always aware of you, no matter where you are or who you're around, he's making sure you're comfortable and safe and that you know he's there for you if you need anything. And the moment he senses any discomfort from you, he'll get you out and to a safe space <3

B is for baby. The first time he calls you baby, you two are just chilling in the mansion and you playfully ask to see his claws. They amaze you, intrigue you, and you want the opportunity to see them up close for once without him swinging them through someone's neck. He sighs but smils and draws his claws. You grin, fingers tracing the metal. “Careful, you'll cut yourself, baby,” he says. Your eyes snap up to him and a slight blush covers his cheeks. You didn't say anything about the nickname, just kissed his cheek, and he's called you baby since.

C is for cuddles. He may seem like the big, bad wolf, but really? He's super soft when it comes to cuddling with you. He loves to lay down on the couch or the bed, watching TV or just chatting or hanging out, and he always has you close, his legs tangled with yours, his fingers tracing your soft skin be it on your shoulder or your stomach or your thigh, wherever he can touch.

D is for detailed. Logan keeps up the facade that he doesn't care about anything and that he doesn't pay attention, but he's actually hyper-focused. You have a favorite type of flower that you mentioned once? He'll bring them to you again and again for date night. You're bothered by a specific situation or person? He'll make sure to keep you away if he can. And if not, he'll be there for you to hold your hand and reassure you.

E is for embarrassed. Logan is sometimes a little shy about how whipped he is about you. Like, really. He feels like a puppy around you, always keeping his eyes on you, always needing to feel you close. And yes, he's aware he's sometimes got separation anxiety. Especially when you're apart for too long, like when he's gotta go on missions you're not included in :((( but when he comes back, he'll stick to you for hours and refuse to let you go.

F is for fights. He hates fighting with you, hates whenever you're upset at him. He knows it's healthy to disagree, but it frustrates him so much because he's just constantly afraid that you'll get enough of him and leave him. But then after fights, when you two apologize and make up, he'll hold you close and pray to God or whoever is up there and listening that they never take you out of his life.

G is for greedy. So so so greedy. He wants you always, all the time, in too many ways. He can't let go of you, won't ever get over you. He adores you and he can never ever get enough. He wants everything you can offer and more, and sometimes he worries he demands too much. But when you're with him, so willing to love him, he knows it'll be okay.

H is for handsy. Logan's super super super handsy. Whenever, wherever, he's touching you. His hand on your lower back, your hand in his, his arm around your waist. If you're sitting somewhere, he has a hand on your thigh, your head on his shoulder. He's always feeling you next to him because it makes him feel safe.

I is for immature. Not in a bad way, really. Just sometimes he can be very immature. When you get busy, when you don't pay enough attention to him, he'll get pouty and upset, maybe even only grumble every now and then when you try to talk to him. Once you realize what's going on, however, all it takes are a few kisses and hugs and he'll melt in your hands, forgetting any slight.

J is for jealous. C'mon, Logan is crazy jealous, especially because of your age gap. He's worried that maybe those younger guys might someday seem more attractive to you than he is, and that scares him. And when he sees some twenty-something kid eyeing you, he gets pissed. He'll grab you closer, glare at whatever boy is watching you, and then he'll kiss you, maybe groping you a little for good measure. He ensures his message is clear: you're his.

K is for knuckle kisses. He'd never admit it to you, but he loves when you grab his hand and kiss his knuckles, right where his claws come out. There's something about the gesture, so soft and sweet, that makes his heart race and butterflies fill his stomach. He just loves when you show little hints of affection, it kills him in the best way.

L is for the L-word. He's so scared that you won't feel the same way, that when he realizes he loves you, he doesn't say it for almost months. He's terrified of scaring you off. If he lost you, he'd be done for. But one day, it slips out of him and when he sees the way your eyes light up and you smile, he knows you feel it too. And you tell him you love him more than he tells you, but that's just because he doesn't say it. He shows it. At first, he'd say it and nuzzle against your neck as he spoke the words. Now, he nuzzles into your neck and kisses your jaw and says, “You know I do, right?” And of course you know he loves you. He makes it so clear and he's not ashamed to.

M is for mornings. The first morning you wake up in his bed, he's mesmerized. You look so beautiful asleep there, tranquil, happy. So vulnerable, like someone he has to protect from this cold, fucked up world. He will never let anyone hurt you, he'll never leave you alone or in danger. He'll always be there for you, every morning for the rest of your life, if you'll let him.

N is for nights. Nights with Logan are the best. Especially if it's a weekend and neither of you has any work to do. You'll relax while he puts on a movie and makes popcorn, and you'll cuddle while you watch TV. Then, he'll let you put a face mask on, even if it's pink and shiny, because he knows you enjoy it and he also likes doing these things with you. He'll let you give him massages and do a skin routine. And he'll draw a bath and carefully wash you, his fingertips grazing over your skin with reverence. And then you'll go to bed to sleep, (among other things) and he'll hold you close all night long.

O is for ordinary. Logan knows he's a mutant and he's one of the X-men.. There'll never be anything ordinary for him. Never. But when he's with you on a tranquil morning and you two are lazying around or he cooks for you and you walk up and hug him, he thinks that maybe someday, you two could have a simple, domestic life. You and him, a picket fence, maybe kids if you want. He feels like maybe he deserves that kind of ordinary life, and he knows he wants it with you. Only you.

P is for period. When you're on your period, Logan is the sweetest, most caring man ever. He'll buy you whatever you're craving. He'll let you stay in bed, wearing his shirt and a pair of his boxers. He'll bring you pills if you need them and warming pads. He'll spend all day with you, babying you, making sure you don't lift a single finger. Not when he's around.

Q is for quandary. Logan isn't a big love man. He isn't used to relationships and he isn't sure about how to manage one. Especially when he's with you because you're so sweet, you're so young. He'd hate to break your heart or hurt you in any way, and he's terrified whenever he realizes how serious things are getting with you. He'll have a few panic attacks when he overthinks it. And one day, when he finally admits to you that he's not sure how to love, you smile softly and tell him, “Me either. I kind of just go with it.” And there. Right there, he knows you're the one.

R is for ring. Yes, ring. It's hidden in his closet, in a corner far away where you'll never find it. He never thought he'd be the type to marry and settle down, but the idea constantly haunts him every time he sees you. And now he knows, you're the one for him. All he's struggling to do is figure out how to propose. Should it be all fancy and well planned? Or spontaneous, when all the love he feels for you just gets the best of him? He's still not sure, but he knows he doesn't want to let a single month pass without asking if he can be your husband.

S is for safe. He's always alert, always on edge. But around you, his guard is down. For once, he's living in the moment, just enjoying the time he's spending with you, not worrying about whatever may be going out in the world. You're his safe space and he adores it. Whenever he comes home from a mission, stressed and on edge and upset, he'll just get back to the mansion, go into your room and lay in your arms. He'll let you hold him, make everything that happened go away until he's at peace. Until it seems like the world isn't gonna end the next day. Until your love consumes him.

T is for true. True because he knows how you feel about him is real. There are so many people that want something from him. But not you. No. You accept all of him. His mistakes, his flaws, his strengths, all of it. You just accept him. And what's more, you love him for it. And he knows how you feel is real. He knows you only want him. And it's the kind of love he's been looking for his entire life, the kind he can't ever live without, the kind he'll never let go.

U is for unwavering. Logan's love for you is unwavering. There is nothing, nothing you could do to make him stop loving you. For starters, he's a very bad man, much worse than you could ever be. The things he's done...And yet you love him. Compared to him, you're a saint. And it's so easy to love you. So easy. He sometimes feels it's unfair to you because it must be more difficult to love him. Still, he's extremely grateful for you and he knows nothing and no one will ever make him stop loving you.

V is for vulnerable. Logan's walls are made of steel. He never, ever opens up to anyone. He hides his emotions, expresses everything only through anger. But you make him vulnerable. You can read him like a book, there's no point in hiding anything from you, so he's found out it's easier to just open up to you. And he's surprised to feel...relieved. When he talks to you, his shoulders feel lighter. He's not as angry, not as mean. You make him a better person, and he loves you a lot for it.

W is for worship. The way Logan treats you is damn near to worship. He takes care of you like you're a goddess, a divine being he's not worthy of. But he tries his best. He cooks for you, he pays for everything if you let him. He'll take you out on dates, put his jacket on your shoulders, carry you if you two have gone dancing and your feet hurt. He sees you as a deity and he loves you. He worships you and he will continue for the rest of his days if you allow him to.

X marks the treasure. He's not sure what he did to deserve you, what superior power decided to put him in your path. He's even more amazed you're into him too. You're his treasure. He feels like he's been wandering around aimlessly until he ran into you. Until he found you, his treasure, his love. You're all he's ever needed.

Y is for you. You perfect, sweet, smart, young thing. You're gorgeous. You're funny. You're everything any guy would ever want. And you chose him? Him, out of all people? He can't believe it. He's not sure he ever will, but he's always grateful. You are his world. You are his everything. His motivation and his patience and his safe space. You're his life, his universe. Without you, there is nothing.

Z is for zeroed. Ever since he met you and you two started dating, Logan's entire perspective has shifted. Now, everything he does and thinks is zeroed in on you. You and your needs and how to make you happy. You're what gets him through every mission, what gets him out of bed in the morning. He feels like you give his life meaning. And that's not something he's ever gonna lose.

Nsfw

A is for addict. Because that's how Logan feels about you. Whenever he fucks you, when your pretty pussy is wet and clenched around his cock, he knows he'll never get enough. He knows only you'll make him feel this way and that he's going to start fucking you more often if he doesn't wanna lose his goddamned mind.

B is for breasts because Logan loves yours. He knows sometimes you feel insecure because they're not like this or they're like that, but he's never seen a prettier pair of tits on anyone. Yours are perfect. He can suck on them, bite them, nuzzle into them all day and still want more. And when he comes on them? Fuck. That's heaven right there for him.

C is for cockwarming. I imagine it would go like this. Really, Logan loves feeling your cunt around his cock. He loves seeing you squirm as you ache for the pleasure only he can give you. It sends his ego through the roof. Plus, he's just a man, how is he gonna resist you looking so beautiful and desperate on his cock?

D is for dacryphilia. One of his favorite things to do is fuck you for hours, slow and deep, making you come over and over and over again until you're crying from the ecstasy. He loves seeing you so weak, so vulnerable for him, so unashamed to show him how good he makes you feel. There's nothing better for him than when he sees those tears of ecstasy in the corners of your eyes and he knows he's doing a good job.

E is for endurance. Logan's healing ability also means that his body doesn't wear out as quick. So he can go for hours, literally fuck you an entire night without breaking so much as a sweat. You may be weak, panting, almost sobbing with pleasure, but he'll keep going until you tell him to stop. He'll fuck you dumb just because he can.

F is for “Fuck!”. That deep, low rumble that leaves his lips when he comes. Or the way he says it in your ear as he slides his cock into you. And when he sees you wearing some skimpy outfit, he'll murmur it under his breath. It's his go-to word, really, whenever you do or say or make him feel something that blows his mind.

G is for g-spot. Logan considers you to be a very knowledgeable woman in regards to your sexual pleasure. That's why he's surprised when, one day as he's fingering you and he curls his fingers against that spongy spot, your body convulses and you gasp, asking him what he did. So now, he redoubles his efforts when he fucks you, making sure his cock rubs your g-spot just how you like it, and he enjoys teaching you about the pleasures of that particular spot. But also, G is for guilt. You gorgeous, perfect, young thing. What are you doing with him? He's fucked up. Broken. A whole fucking mess. And you still love him. He feels guilty about it, as if he's stealing your life away. But when you look at him with those precious eyes and he sees the love in them, he knows he must be doing something right to deserve an angel like you.

H is for hickeys. Hickeys everywhere. If you've been with Logan, everyone's gonna know. He leaves hickeys where others can't see—the swell of your ass, your inner thighs, the underside of your tits and between them—but he also leaves them where everyone can see. Your shoulders, your neck, your collarbone. And you wear them with so much pride, it drives him insane. And knowing you have his marks under your clothes? Yeah, he loves leaving hickeys on your perfect body, just a little reminder that you're his.

I is for insatiable. No matter how much he gets, he always wants more. If you two have a couple of free days, it's guaranteed he'll fuck you senseless the entire time. His stamina is impressive, his dedication to your pleasure otherworldly. He can never get enough of you, and he takes more and more each time, always pushing you to your limits and then some.

J is for jealous. So right after he's established that you're his, he'll drag you to the nearest private corner and fuck you. He fucks you hard, rough, deep, making you come as many times as you can until you're weak and sweating and whimpering. He wants you to feel how much he loves you, how much he appreciates you, and he's hoping you'll never ever leave him.

K is for kink exploration. Logan will never, ever shame you for whatever you like. In fact, be quite enjoys learning what you like and, in turn, teaching you, as well as finding out what else you two enjoy. Not only does he feel more connected to you that way, but seeing the look in your eyes when he's doing exactly what you like the way you like it? Jesus, he lives for that.

L is for lingerie. Pretty lacy lingerie, usually tiny skirts and half-cup bras with little bows. He loves seeing you in them, he loves fucking you in them even more. The way you look in them has his mind reeling, and he also adores tearing them off you when you take too long to take them off. He adores it. So much so, that he can spend hundreds of bucks on lingerie he knows he's only gonna tear into pieces a few hours after they're bought.

M is for masturbation. Be it mutual or when you're not around, he likes to fist his cock in his hand and jerk himself while he imagines you or watches you. It's not the same as being in you, and it's not the same as you touching him, but it's better than nothing. What he likes most, though, is watching you touch yourself, his eyes fixated on your pussy as your fingers work eagerly to bring you to your orgasm. More often than not, he can't help but do it for you himself.

N is for naughty. You can be a naughty little thing sometimes, especially when you're trying to rile him up. He'll let you misbehave a little, like wearing those pretty skirts he likes on you or leave him Polaroids of you naked under his pillows. But he keeps count. When you strike out, he'll punish you. Rough, deep, hard, edging kind of punishment as he fucks you, taking out every little ounce of anger or frustration or jealousy you've made him feel. It'll keep you nice for a while, but Logan knows you'll act up again. And when you do, he'll be ready.

O is for oral. Now, yes, Logan loves when you suck him off. He loves seeing you on your knees, his cock all the way down your throat, the way you gag as you fit him. But he loves eating you out more. He can—and has—spent hours between your thighs, licking your cunt, enjoying your taste and your scent. He loves how you grind against his mouth, how you tangle your fingers in his hair and lead him to where you want him. He likes giving you that little ounce of control while he worships you like the goddess you are.

P is for pregnancy. The idea of you pregnant with his baby...Fuuuck. He imagines you nice and round, breasts heavy, his little child kicking in you. So he'll fuck you again and again, wanting so bad to fill you up and give you a baby. But P is for pullout also. Which he also enjoys, especially when he spills his load all over your stomach, or your lower back, and he gets to see the mess he's made. But one day, be promises himself, he'll give you one of his babies.

Q is for quarrel. Logan is in a constant state of war with himself. He loves taking control, loves how you submit with so much ease. But sometimes, he just wants to give in to you, let him do whatever you want. The thought haunts him at night and he's constantly considering asking you to take control for once, to let you do as you want with his body...

R is for raw. He's a very careful man, and you a very careful woman. But after being together for a few months, going raw is the obvious option. And once you do, Logan will never turn back. Your bare, soft, wet, tight pussy around his cock is a vice. Nothing with no one has ever felt as amazing as fucking you raw, and he needs it daily now. He has has has to feel your gummy walls on his cock if he wants to function properly, otherwise you'll all he'll ever think about and he doesn't want anyone reading his mind when they realize how distracted he is, especially since you're naked in there all the time.

S is for spit. Logan is a dirty, dirty man when it comes to sex. And there's not much he likes more than seeing you coated in his saliva. He likes to lick you all over, a thin trail of spit decorating your skin. He loves to spit on your tits, in your mouth, on your pussy and your ass. God, it makes him crazy. It's a small way of marking you, but it means the world to him.

T is for thigh fucking. Logan is a thigh man through and through. He'll finger you and make you come as many times as you need until your slick is all over your inner thighs, and then he'll stand behind you, slipping his cock between your soft thighs. And it's the only time during sex when he whimpers for you, his hands digging into your hips as he thrusts his hips, his long, thick cock rubbing your clit in the perfect way for him to pull more orgasms out of you.

U is for uninhibited. When he fucks you, Logan's mind is completely focused on you and the feeling of you. He doesn't even realize it when it happens, but he'll start murmuring, “Pretty pussy. So tight, so wet. So ready for my come.” Or, “Perfect tits. Perfect. Can't wait to knock you up, see them swollen with milk, maybe try some...” It's like he can't hold back his thoughts and they just leave his mouth without his permission. “Gorgeous. Fuckin' gorgeous, always so good to me. This cunt is so good to me, I'm gonna make her feel so good.”

V is for videos. His phone is full of videos of you, either of you touching yourself or spread out while he fucks you or your pussy wet and raw with his fingers pumping in and out of you. He'll watch those videos again and again, especially when you two are apart because of missions, and it's the only thing that keeps him going. He'll jerk off to the videos of you, groaning, gasping. He can almost feel your warm cunt around him, your wet walls tightening around him. He never lasts long when he watches your videos. And when he returns to you...Let's just say you won't be walking around the next day.

W is for whipped cream. Logan loves to spread whipped cream all over your body. On your stomach, your nipples, your pussy. And he licks it off. Little by little, the sugar mixed with your taste driving him almost over the edge. He's, maybe once or twice, actually comed in his pants just from licking the whipped cream off you. He loves it that much.

X marks the treasure. And in this case, you've marked a big yellow X on yourself. You're lying naked on his bed, the paint going from your shoulders, over your nipples, and crossing on your belly button, ending just at your thighs. You're waiting for Logan like this when he returns from a mission he'd said was particularly stressful over the phone. And when he sees you. Fuck, when he sees you. He shuts the door after himself quickly and walks to you, standing in front of you, stunned for a moment before he reacts. He's on you in seconds and he doesn't stop until you're a mess, sweating so much that the X painted on your skin is smeared everywhere. It's still one of his favorite times. And now, whenever he sees the X on his suit, he thinks of you.

Y is for yearn. Logan yearns for you, your touch, your body. And it's not always wild, rough sex. He actually enjoys making love to you, as corny as it sounds. Slow, deep thrusts, gentle kisses on your neck and face. He loves it. Holding you, his hands tracing your body, feeling your skin underneath his fingertips...He knows that everything that's happened to him is worth it since he gets to be with you. He yearns for your love, your approval, yearns to be worthy of you.

Z is for zeal. Logan is around 200 years old. He looks somewhere around thirty five, maybe more maybe less. But he fucks like he's in his twenties. He has so much enthusiasm when it comes to giving you pleasure. His stamina is crazy, his endurance unbelievable. You always end up more exhausted than him, body weak and sweating and trembling, and it fuels his ego. Knowing he can make a mess out of you even though he's much older than you makes him proud of himself.

---

Omg I'm so sorry this literally took me so long 😭😭😭 but I hope you guys enjoy it 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Blog masterlist

[luciathcv]

wrongful rejection - nmr

summary: a thought-to-be "rejected" kiss turns out to be something different || warnings: reader is "rejected" but in the end- really isn't || genre: fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers, comfort || word count: approximately 1.1k

You sat on Riki's bed, legs crisscrossed, back against the headboard, watching your best friend play some game on his phone as he sat beside you.

Honestly, you were really struggling right now. Gosh, he was so perfect. You really did like him so much. Sure, he was your best friend, and you shouldn't have a crush on him- at least, you told yourself that. You shouldn't selfishly like him without fear of ruining your friendship. It's not like you were purposefully crushing. You just couldn't help it.

Riki glanced over at you, noticing your mindless staring. "What's up?" He asked.

You're snapped out of your daze and quickly look away, "Nothing." You dismissively say.

Riki gives you a look, knowing that wasn't true but he didn't bother to question you further for now as he looked back down at his phone screen. "Aren't you going to do anything?" Riki asked.

"What do you mean?" You respond a little confused, your head still full with only him.

"You're just sitting there." Riki points out.

"Oh," You say. "I'll just watch you play." You tell him as you scoot closer and look at his screen. He glances over at you before shrugging and continuing to play the game.

He plays the game for a bit, working on beating a specifically hard round, when finally, he beats it. You can't help but smile as you watch him grin triumphantly. Riki's arm goes over your shoulder, resting it there. This wasn't anything new, this type of closeness with him, though. Not lately, anyway.

"What time do you have to leave?" Riki asks.

"Mm, I don't know." You think for a few moments, your eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips without even thinking. "My mom wanted him by 7." You answer. That meant that you still had a few more hours of hanging out with him.

"Cool." Riki says. "What do you want to do? We can watch something or if you want, we can play-" He's cut off when he feels your lips on his.

You just couldn't take it anymore. It was getting too much for you. So, you kissed him without any thought on how it'd affect things between the two of you.

You swear he kisses you back for a moment as well but suddenly, he's gently pushing you away. He kissed you back. You weren't crazy. But, now, he had pushed you away. You were completely mortified. Your face was red and flushed, and your hands were shaking.

Riki looks into your eyes, "Y/n..." He starts in a soft voice but you don't even give him a chance to say anymore because you're already getting up and grabbing your phone and bag.

"I'm going." You say, your voice trembling a little, refusing to look over at him.

"You don't have to go, Y/n. Come on." Riki says, sitting up in the bed. He watches as you quickly leave the room and shut the door behind you.

After the kiss, you managed to avoid Riki as much as possible. You ignored his texts, calls, and video calls. When you saw him at school, you went the other way- even if it meant going the longer way to class. You simply did not want to see him after his supposed rejection.

One day, you had pulled into the driveway of your house, having just gotten home from work, ready to eat dinner with your parents and siblings when you saw Riki sitting on the front steps of your house. Why was he even here right now?

You walked over and he looked up, standing up immediately. "Y/n, don't ignore me." Riki says in an almost desperate tone that you had rarely heard from him.

"I'm not ignoring you." You lied.

"Yeah, you are." Riki retorted and you both knew he was right. "Is this because of the kiss?" He then asked.

You couldn't help but scoff, "Obviously." You respond. "I made everything awkward. I ruined our friendship. I'm sorry." You apologize.

"Hey, you didn't ruin our friendship so stop." Riki said in an almost scolding tone.

"Things aren't ever going to be the same between us." You sighed as you looked down at your feet in utter embarrassment because you really felt like crying right now.

Riki stepped closer, his hands gently holding onto your arms, "Maybe that's true..." He softly said, causing you to look up at him. "Doesn't mean it's a bad thing, though." He then adds.

You look into his eyes, your mind racing, "What?" You mutter out.

"Y/n, I like you." He confesses and honestly, if it weren't for the circumstances you would've been a lot more happy to hear that but truthfully, you couldn't believe it.

"But, you pushed me away." You point out.

"I know I did. I shouldn't have done that. I was just... being stupid. I honestly just couldn't believe you were actually kissing me and I was scared that it'd change things between us in a bad way." Riki explained, his hands still resting on my biceps. "But, I couldn't just let you leave our friendship over this. I... listen, I really do like you. Okay. I mean it." He then said, sensing your hesitance.

"Oh..." Is all you could manage, your mind racing and your heart thumping.

"Let's redo that whole thing." Riki then suggests, a small smile forming on his lips.

"You mean.." You trail off.

"Can I kiss you, Y/n?" He asks, confirming he meant what you thought he did, and you couldn't help but quickly nod.

Riki leans down and presses his lips against yours, softly kissing you. The kiss was longer this time and it was crystal clear that the both of you wanted this right now. His hands rested on your hips as you kissed before he leaned down, deepening the kiss.

You both pull away soon after and you watch as he licks his lips.

"Do you... want to stay for dinner?" You find yourself muttering out. After all that, you were asking if he wanted to stay for dinner with his family as if it was just another normal hangout between the two of you.

Riki couldn't help but chuckle, "Sure." He agrees with a smile before you unlock the door and the two of you head inside.

That kiss changed everything in your relationship with him, shortly after, you went on a date, and on that date, he kissed you again and asked you to be his girlfriend which you gladly accepted.

ᥫ᭡ link to my masterlist

[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 9

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

-----

“I owe you an apology,” Eddie says as they're picking their way through the woods.

“For what?” Steve asks.

Eddie kicks a pinecone. “For last summer.”

Huh.

“You don't owe me anything,” Steve returns. “But if you want to give me one, I'll take it.”

“Just like that?”

Steve looks up ahead, sees Dustin has stopped and is fiddling with his malfunctioning compass, and slows to a stop himself, leaning against a tree. “How about an explanation, instead of an apology?”

Eddie grimaces. “Can't I just tell you I'm really, really sorry?”

Steve raises one eyebrow at him.

Eddie kicks another pinecone, then flings himself on the other side of the tree, leaning against it with his shoulder almost touching Steve's.

“I got the wrong idea about something, and it freaked me out. Then I was pissed at myself for getting the wrong idea, and then I just - I ran, Steve, okay? In case you haven't noticed, it's clearly what I do.” His voice tremors there, just a little, at the end.

“Swap?” Steve asks, out of instinct.

Eddie shifts to look at him, brows furrowed. “What?”

Right.

Shit.

“Never mind.” Steve shakes his head. Okay, he doesn't need Eddie's heart to do this. He can still read him pretty well, he thinks, as long as he doesn't think too hard about how he apparently didn't read him as well as he thought he did last summer. “Eddie, shit, if you hadn't run when you guys got attacked you'd be dead, too, and I'd…”

“You'd what?” Eddie prompts after a moment.

“I'd hate to see Robin kick your ass, because I promised her that she could if you broke Dustin's heart.”

Eddie just looks at him, and Steve thinks - huh. Maybe Eddie doesn't need his heart to be able to read him well, either, even if there'll always be a part of Steve that still wants to give it to him.

“I'd be pissed at both of us.” Steve bumps their shoulders together. “I should have kept watching out for you.”

Eddie scoffs. “I made it pretty clear I didn't want you to anymore. Besides, it was never your job.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted it to be.” He pauses, then figures, whatever, it's Upside Down shit again, he might as well. “I want it to be.”

Eddie's expression goes a little more serious, a little softer. “...still?”

“Still,” Steve confirms.

Dustin gives a triumphant exclamation and starts forward again, so Steve gives Eddie one last look before he pushes himself off the tree and keeps going.

—

Eddie hovers by his side in the Upside Down, nervously rambling about Ozzy and metal and -

And Steve only kind of gets it, but Eddie's still nice to him as he explains it.

Even after everything, he doesn't try to make him feel stupid.

Steve watches his lips as Eddie talks, something about Dustin worshiping him and how Eddie wouldn't have come in after him because he's the kind of guy who runs, and - wait.

He reaches out, grabbing Eddie's wrist and tugging him to a stop.

“Whoa, hey, you gotta cut that shit out. You looked at yourself lately?”

Eddie blinks at him. “No mirrors in the Upside Down, man. Not any ones that I want to look into, anyway. Besides, I probably look like a drowned rat.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You're hot and you know it, don't change the subject. Come on. You stayed with us here, and you jumped in after me - no protests, man, whatever you thought about doing, you jumped - and you hit demon bats with an oar. You're not running now, are you?”

Eddie swallows, staring at him. “No. Guess not.”

“Good. Now come on, we gotta catch up.”

It isn't until they make up the distance between them and Robin and Nancy, and Steve lets go of Eddie's wrist to join them that he realizes he'd been holding it this whole time.

He shoots a look over at Eddie, who ducks his gaze, cheeks a little pink.

Huh.

—

Eddie sits in the front seat next to him, in their stolen RV.

Steve glances up in the rear view mirror to meet Robin's gaze, who mouths big boy and wiggles her eyebrows at him. Steve rolls his eyes, then looks back over at Eddie.

“You okay?” he asks.

Eddie gives a short, humorless laugh. “Am I supposed to be?”

Steve reaches out, bumps his knuckles against Eddie's knee. “You know what I meant.”

Eddie stares down at Steve's hand, but his leg stops shaking, so Steve doesn't move it. He thinks about asking if Eddie wants to swap hearts, so he doesn't have to talk about it, but - Eddie hasn't even wanted to show his heart to anyone, and Steve doesn't want to put anymore pressure on him.

They don't end up saying anything else, but Steve keeps his hand there, and Eddie doesn't look as tense, and it - it feels like something settles between them.

It gives Steve hope.

—

After the War Zone, Dustin and Lucas swap hearts. Or - swap back, Steve realizes as he gets a closer look at their hearts as they exchange them.

He's guessing that means Dustin hadn't swapped with him before the game, but at least they did now, and he exchanges a smile with Robin.

Eddie's noticed, too, apparently, because he's gaping a little at them.

“What was that?” he demands.

Dustin waves his hand dismissively. “It's a Party thing,” he says, dripping with condescension.

“Again with the tone,” Eddie mutters, making Steve snort.

Steve claps him on the shoulder, fingers curling absently around the back of his neck as he gives him a little shake. “It's always better not to ask,” he tells him. “Either they'll be little shits or you'll get suckered in, too.”

Eddie huffs out a little laugh. “Speaking from experience?”

“Unfortunately,” Steve replies, as dry as he possibly can.

He realizes he's still holding onto Eddie, thumb stroking absently over the spot behind his ear, and he winces internally at himself.

Before he can pull away, though, Eddie mutters, “Fuck, okay, I just - I gotta know, man, is this - it's on purpose, right? Did you really spend half of last year making a move on me?��

Steve goes still. “Well, yeah, but if you have to ask I'm starting to think I didn't do a very good job.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Eddie makes a noise that sounds like a whine, dramatically doubling over before sprawling on the ground. “I'm an idiot.”

Steve spends a moment doing the mental work of shifting things around a little, then lets himself feel all the affection come surging back up and sits on the ground next to him. “I mean, I didn't know what I was doing, either, but I kind of thought you caught on at least a little.”

Eddie groans. “I did! I just kept going are you seriously wondering if the king of Hawkins High is spending his senior year hitting on you, is this the new fantasy you're actually entertaining and then I freaked myself out about it, and then I got hopeful, and then I called you and convinced myself I got the wrong idea, then I crawled off to lick my wounds and by the time the little shrimps started talking about you and I realized I actually got the wrong idea about you and Robin, it… it'd been too long, you know? I couldn't figure out how to face you. I figured it was too late.”

Steve doesn't know what to say to that. It's close to what he'd assumed happened, what he'd already forgiven Eddie for and moved on from, but he hadn't counted on what sounds like Eddie actually returning his feelings. This whole time, he thought it was him - that he came on too strong, like he always does, that he wanted more than the other person had to give. It feels surreal, trying to reconsider every moment between them.

“Did you want me back?”

It takes a moment for him to recognize his own voice, and realize that he was the one who asked it.

Eddie's lower lip trembles a little. “Shit, Steve, of course I did. Am I - am I too late?”

Steve holds off his immediate reaction to take a moment to think about that - about how he's changed since last summer, the future he's looking for, what he wants.

“No,” he says, confident and sure. “You're not too late.”

Nancy calls for them, and as much as Steve wants to keep going, he knows this is too important.

“Can we talk about this after?” he asks.

Eddie swallows. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm sticking around this time.”

—

When they have a minute alone, when everyone else is outside the trailer - Steve crowds Eddie up against the wall and steals a kiss, sharp and fierce and far too short for his liking.

Eddie looks at him when they break apart, wide eyed and dazed.

“Jesus,” he mutters. “How am I supposed to concentrate on Master of Puppets now?”

Steve laughs, kissing him again, just because he can. “I believe in you,” he tells him.

—

Steve hates their plan more as they all start to split up, but it's the only one they have. He tells Dustin and Eddie not to be cute, not to do anything to deviate from their role - wishes he could do more. His heart feels heavy and tight and suffocating in his chest with every step as he walks away.

“Hang on.”

He turns on his heel, taking his heart out of his chest as he walks back.

"I'm trusting you with this," Steve says, handing Dustin his heart.

Dustin scoffs. "Of course you are. You've been doing that since I was thirteen," he retorts, like that wasn't less than two years ago.

Still, Dustin's hands are careful as he scoots his own heart over a little to make room inside his chest for Steve's. Steve can feel the echo of Dustin's heartbeat as his beats alongside it, once again in unison.

When he looks up, Eddie's gaping at him.

"What?" Steve asks.

"You just. What the hell?”

“I told you,” Dustin says, as superior as ever. “It's a Party thing.”

—

Shock and pain and fear cuts through the triumph he feels when Nancy shoots Vecna out the window, sharp enough that Steve gasps.

“What-” he starts, then realizes the moment he says it. “Dustin.”

Oh, shit, it must be bad if he's getting Dustin's feelings - he doesn't have Dustin's heart, so he shouldn't be picking up anything that isn't all consuming.

“Go,” Nancy orders, sharp and quick.

“We've got this,” Robin agrees.

Steve's gone without a second thought, taking the stairs two and three at a time and flying out the door. He runs - faster than he should with his injuries, faster than he thinks he's ever run before. He doesn't know if it's his own heart calling to him or if it's Dustin's panic, but whatever it is pulls him in the right direction.

Until he's on his knees in the dirt, Dustin begging him to help and Eddie's gasping, breathy wheeze echoing in his ears.

Oh, God, this is bad. He wants to deny it, wants to pick him up and carry him out anyway, but Eddie's not going to make it like this. He needs to do something, he needs -

He needs Eddie's heart.

“Eddie,” Steve gets out, sharp and firm. “Eddie, hey, hey, look at me. I need you to open your chest, now.”

“Gonna steal my heart, Harrington?” Eddie says with a grin, his voice thick with the same blood that's staining his teeth.

Steve tries to control his emotions, so Dustin won't feel the echo of fear and grief - or the tiniest flutter he knows his heart must give at that.

“No,” Steve replies. “But if you let me have it, I'll protect it.”

Eddie's grin slips, and Steve watches the way he swallows, how his hand shakes as he fumbles to get his chest open.

“It's all yours, Stevie,” he manages to get out.

Normally, Steve'd wait until Eddie took his own heart out before doing anything, but they don't have time for that now. He sticks his hand right into Eddie's chest, pulling it out and shoving it into his own without even looking at it. Pain and terror nearly overwhelm him when he closes it up, but there's - there's something like satisfaction there, too, something like pride.

I didn't run.

Steve sucks in a ragged breath, gets his hands under Eddie's knees and back and hauls him up. “I've got you, Eddie, okay? I got you.”

“Always got me, Stevie,” Eddie mutters into his neck.

There's something else, there - affection and trust and longing and everything that Steve's been hoping to feel for a while, just not like this.

Not like this.

“Let's get him out of here,” he tells Dustin, who scrambles to lead the way back to the nearest gate.

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here! Just one more part left after this.

-----

Part 10

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @cryptid-system @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @persnicketysquares @samsoble @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse @breealtair @shunna @xtraordinarally @thatdamnfan @justalittledrainbamage @strangerfolks @disrespectedgoatman @amber-ambience @anxietyfulloption @thepossummoldypasta @irregular-child @th30ra3k3n @powdeeee @theohohmoment @5ammi90 @ominous-pool-light @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeens

[rafesfavgirl]

her lips on your neck — j. maybank

meant to have this up last night, but i got fucked up lolz

❝ since you admitted it, i keep picturing her lips on your neck, i can't unsee it ❞

pairing: cheater!jj x fem!reader

context: late at night, you get back to the obx from a week-long trip to new york with your parents and decide to surprise your boyfriend and best friends.

words: 1.4k+

warnings: cheating (i don't condone it!!), might break you, no happy ending, ANGST ANGST ANGST

"what the fuck are we suppose to tell y/n?" you hear pope mention your name, as he sat with john b in the enclosed back porch of the chateau and immediately stop yourself from joining them, curious as to what else they had to say.

"dude, i don't know," john b shrugged at him, the expression on his face looking as if he was torn between some hard decision.

what could they possibly be talking about?

"i mean, it's not like they meant for it to happen, right?" john b continued, sounding like he was trying to convince himself of something.

"do you really think she'll see it that way?" pope asks him. "jj just slept with kie."

john b winces at pope's words like they were too hard for him to hear and your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, your eyes becoming blurry with tears as anger starts coursing through your veins.

"we gotta tell her," pope adds.

they didn't even hear that you'd entered the porch, now only standing a few feet away from them.

"you just did." the sound of your voice causes them to snap their heads towards you, both of them now completely at a loss for words. "is jj here?" you speak slowly to stop your voice from shaking.

when neither of them reply and just exchange glances, you repeat yourself. "where's. jj."

"y/n…" john b starts to stand from his seat, but you don't let him finish or get any closer, before you're barging into the chateau.

you feel your body shake as jj comes out of one of the rooms chuckling and pulling his muscle tank down.

"you didn't," you shake your head as he looks at you.

"y/n…"

when kiara comes out of the same room and steps up behind him, you get your answer.

"you did," you say, your eyes shifting from kie to jj.

"babe, i-" jj begins, taking a step towards you.

"no," you immediately cut him off and hold a hand out in front of you to stop him from getting any closer. “we’re done.”

that was two weeks ago. you hadn’t seen jj, or your friends since then, actively trying to avoid them as much as possible. that didn’t stop them from texting though.

john b and pope have checked in every now and then to make sure you’re doing okay, while kie and jj blow your phone up 24/7 with empty apologies.

j<3: i’m outside. please let me explain.

you stare at the text on your phone for a second and hop to your feet to peek out the window, where surely enough, you saw jj perched against his bike on the curb of your front lawn, waiting.

letting out a deep sigh and against your better judgment, you walk towards the front door and open it, only to find that he had walked up your front porch and was about to knock.

“hey…” his voice is small, and his baby blue eyes light up at the sight of you, making your heart ache.

by the prominent eye bags under them, you could tell he hadn’t gotten much sleep either. but wasn’t that how it should have been? he was the one who cheated on you.

you don’t say a word and just turn to walk further into your living room, jj following after you and shutting the door.

“i know you don’t owe me anything,” he continues, as you turn to look at him again, your arms crossed across your chest.

“you’re right, i don’t,” you say, trying to be cold.

it was hard, though. there was a piece of your heart that still yearned for him. a piece that you had a feeling would love him forever. no matter how badly he’s just screwed you over.

“why’d you do it?” you ask.

“i don’t know,” he shrugs. “i don’t know why i did it. we were drinking… and talking… you weren’t here, and i- i guess we just…”

“what?” you feel your hand start to shake as he tried to come up with an excuse. “got caught up in the moment?”

“y- yeah…” he glances down, and you scoff.

“god, i am such an idiot!” you run your hands through your hair and take a seat on the armchair behind you.

“y/n that’s not…” he slowly approaches you while you shake your head at him.

“i should’ve known,” you say. “it was her before me.”

jj shakes his head as he closes the distance between the two of you and crouches down in front of you, a hand landing on your knee. “baby, that’s not true.”

you glance at his hand on your knee before looking at him again. “but it is.”

“look, i fucked up, okay?” he said, his tone desperate now. “i know that. but please… please believe me when i tell you that it was a mistake. and it’s never going to happen again.”

“how can i believe that?” you ask, tears threatening to brim along your lower lashes. 

“just trust me,” he tells you.

a bitter scoff falls from your lips as you stand up and cross the room, half angry and half confused, not knowing what to think or believe.

“i did trust you, j!” you say, turning to look at him again with tears in your eyes as he gets up from his crouching position and faces you. “and you screwed me over anyway.”

“y/n…” he walks towards you, and you feel your weight shift to one foot, your body feeling a little limp. 

there was a part of you that still loved him—feelings don’t disappear just like that—but you knew you deserved better. that there was someone out there who wouldn’t even think about doing what he did.

"i love you…" he brings a hand up to caress your cheek and push your hair back, your first instinct causing you to lean into his touch, a sad smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you lock your eyes with his. "pretty girl." he closes the distance between you two, his forehead resting against yours, a tear trailing down your cheek as you closed your eyes. "i am so so so sorry. i promise— i promise, i won't ever hurt you again."

you wanted nothing more than to believe him. to forgive him. to forget. but you knew, deep down, that wasn't possible.

you shake you hear against his, sniffling. "j, i can't…"

"no, no, no," he replied. "you can. you— you have to, i can't-" he tilts his chin upwards to kiss you, and though you want desperately to let him, you push him away.

"no, jj!" you shout. "you— you can't just kiss me and think it's all gonna go away!"

"okay, okay, i'm not," he backs off a little, and then takes your hands in his, baby blues pleading. "but you need to forgive me. i could never live with myself if you didn't. i— i can't go on without you… without…" he brings your hands together and clasps his hands around them as he brings them up to his lips to kiss them softly. "your touch…" he moves a hand towards your cheek again, caressing it just like last time. "your smile…" he trails it across your collar bone and down your arm to place it on your chest. "your love… god, y/n i’ve never been loved by anyone like you."

his face falls limp against you and he drops to his knees, arms immediately locking around your hips as he rests the side of his head against you.

"please… please forgive me," his voice sounds desperate now, breaking your heart even more.

"i— i can't…" you wrap your hands around his arms and try to pull him off you, but it doesn't work—he just clutches onto you tighter. "you're just not the same person to me anymore…" you shake your head. "the jj i fell for would've never ever done anything to hurt me, but now…" you bring your hands up to your head, trying to keep it together. "god! every time i look at you… all i see is her and what you did… i— i just keep picturing you guys together and-"

"and we can fix that," jj pulls away and gets back on his feet to look at you. "i mean, it's gon' take time, but eventually… you— you can forget it, right?"

there was a hopeful look in his eyes, but you knew that wasn't enough to fix things.

you shake your head and sigh, the hope in his eyes immediately diminishing. "no, i don't think i can."

"but that— that would mean that this…" his voice cracks, his mind clearly in disarray as he motions a hand between you two. "no. this can't be over."

your watery eyes lock with his, which were now red from holding back tears. "then why is it?"

if you happen to also be a rafe girl, consider this part 2 & part 3.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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[2amriize]

.ᐟ needy RIIZE when you cuddle them ༉‧₊˚.

req: Okay but like Riize getting hard (and needy i.e. ANTON!!!) when you cuddle them or straddle them 😞😞😞😞😞😞😞

pairing: bf!riize x reader — masterlist

!! SUGGESTIVE CONTENT, MINORS DNI

⭑.ᐟ shotaro

For Shotaro and you, your favorite time of the day was when you lay together on the couch after dinner to watch a series or movie, or simply to talk about how your day had gone. At that moment you were cuddling with each other, you telling him something that had happened to you while he gently caressed your arm. For some reason that day Shotaro couldn't take your eyes off of you, and as he listened to you he felt every time the need to get close to your lips and cut your words. And well, he did. He couldn't hold back and started kissing your lips needily, to which you reciprocated somewhat confused. 'Taro, why…?' 'Sorry, but i just need you so bad right now… Can i…?'

⭑.ᐟ eunseok

Eunseok used to be pretty good at holding back the urge, or so he always said. You knew perfectly well that he became very needy at the slightest physical contact with you (or even without physical contact). At that moment you were both in his bed, joking around as you always used to do. You had started a little wrestling match to see who could pin the other one down. Finally you were on top of him, both of you with your breathing a bit labored. Eunseok had a little smile on your face, which you didn't understand until a few seconds later, when you started to feel how he was getting hard under you. 'Really Eunseok?' 'You look so cute trying so hard to win me… Can you help me princess?'

⭑.ᐟ sungchan

You and Sungchan were at a friend's house, as you had organized a movie date. The sofa was big, but you still decided to lie on top of Sungchan while he hugged you with his arms, as you loved being that way with him. For some reason Sungchan had been a little needy since he had gotten up, but he hadn't had any time alone or with you to work it out. It was that moment when you were on top of him that the friction meant he couldn't take it anymore. You immediately noticed it, looking at him somewhat surprised. He was looking back at you, apologizing with his eyes. You thought it was cute how desperate he looked, unable to stand being alone. You leaned close to his ear and whispered. 'We can always go to the bathroom and sort it out there…'

⭑.ᐟ wonbin

Wonbin came home very stressed. He had been through that whole day, and all he wanted to do was go home and lie down on the couch and rest. And that's what he did. Once he got home he sat on the couch, and you went over to try to de-stress him a little. You got on his lap like you used to do and started massaging his shoulders and arms with your hands, while he closed his eyes. You didn't know if it was because of the mixture of being stressed and your touch, but little by little Wonbin started to pull you closer to him and caress your body. When you realized his face was on your neck, leaving some kisses on the area. 'Wonbin? What's wrong?' 'I'm needing you so bad right now…'

⭑.ᐟ seunghan

It was getting late and you had to go home, so you got up from the couch to leave. Seunghan grabbed your hand and stretched you a little, causing you to fall into his lap. You couldn't help but laugh at his expression, as he looked at you with a small pout forming on his lips. 'Do you really have to go?' Seunghan put his hands on your lower back, pulling you closer to him as you put your hands on his shoulders. After a few seconds looking at you with a pitying face he moved closer to your lips, making out with you for a few minutes as his hands ran up and down your back. When you parted Seunghan looked at you with a slightly shaky breath as he whispered. 'Okay, now you can't leave me like this y/n… '

⭑.ᐟ sohee

You and Sohee had spent the night together. You used to sleep facing each other, but as soon as you woke up, Sohee would turn around and put her arms around you, staying in that position for a few minutes while you woke up completely. It was while you were in each other's embrace that you started to feel something pressed against your back, and immediately you heard Sohee whisper as he pulled away a little.

'Omg y/n, I'm so sorry… I didn't mean to…-'

Realizing what was going on you turned to him letting out a small laugh. 'It's okay Sohee it's normal, don't you want me to help you with that?'

⭑.ᐟ anton

Anton always becomes so needy for you, with the slightest touch. But at the same time he's a little embarrassed to turn that way. This time you were lying in bed, about to go to sleep, when you noticed how Anton hugged you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. His arms wrapped around your waist and the boy left a kiss on your cheek as he wished you goodnight. You were going to sleep soon too, but you decided to stay up a few more minutes looking at your cell phone. It was after a few minutes that you noticed Anton move a little behind you, kind of rubbing himself as he let out a small whimper. 'Anton, is something wrong?' 'I'm sorry honey… I think I got too close to you and… Can you help me please…?'

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess @yuzuksi @kukkurookkoo

[vampsywrites]

synopsis: a drabble | lo'ak cant believe you're mated to ao'nung...of all na'vi

"forest boy!" ao'nung taunts, giving lo'ak a playful push on the shoulder. "enlighten me. how in eywa do you swim with that baby tail of yours again?"

"get your hands off of me," lo'ak snarls, forcefully pushing himself away from ao'nung. the omaticayan's tail flickers in the sand, sending a cloud of dust his way. "i'm not answering any of your damn questions."

ao'nung, seemingly reveling in the reaction he caused, takes a step back, feigning innocence with a playful shrug. "alright, alright, just curious, that's all. no need to get all defensive," he quips in a condescending tone.

"oh, you wanna see me really get defensive?" lo'ak shoots a sharp, disdainful glare at ao'nung, ears pinned back in irritation.

just as the tension between them reaches its peak, a figure suddenly comes rushing towards them, breaking the charged atmosphere and causing the two boys to shift their focus.

as the figure approaches, lo'ak finds himself captivated by the enigmatic presence before him.

inky jets of dark hair cascade over your shoulders, framing your face in a hazy allure. your piercing gaze meets his, causing a shiver to run down his spine. the necklace around your neck catches his attention, and he realizes that it bears a striking resemblance to the one worn by ao'nung.

"ma 'nung," you call out for the metkayinan, your voice carrying a blend of concern and frustration. you grasp his hand firmly, taking charge of the situation and dragging him away from the sully boy. "have you been messing with him again?"

before ao'nung can respond, you turn towards lo'ak with a sincere and apologetic expression. "i apologize for my mate's behavior," you say, trying to diffuse the tension.

"do not apologize for me," ao'nung snarks, but he falls silent when he notices your stern gaze directed at him.

you take a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. "as the upcoming olo'eytkan, he's very protective of our clan, and your unexpected appearance has stirred up quite a bit of talk."

"yawne—" ao'nung attempts to interject.

"do not interrupt me," you grit, cutting him off.

with a grumble that rivals the growls of a disgruntled akula, ao'nung stops, his ears pinned to the sides of his head. as you turn your attention back to the omaticayan, you can't help but notice his starstruck and dumfounded expressions, clearly taken aback by the situation.

"mate?" lo'ak croaks out. he gazes at you from head to toe, eyes resembling saucers ready to launch into orbit. "you're mated to him?" he points to ao'nung, his disbelief evident.

"yes—" you try to respond, but he doesn't let up. "are you blind?" he exclaims, as if it's the most logical conclusion he can muster. "or are you suffering from some brain damage? i just—" he wildly waves his hands around. "him? fishlips? of all na'vi?"

your mouth hangs open for a moment. then, you can't help but burst into laughter, the absurdity of his questions catching you off guard. beside you, ao'nung seethes, knuckles white, fists clenching as he looks ready to unleash his inner thanator on the poor forest boy. but you manage to stifle your laughter just enough to reassure him with a calming hand on his arm.

"i assure you," you manage to wheeze out between fits of giggles, "i made a conscious decision."