#tattoos if any i wanted shown

[laurenttheninth]

ppl are being mean to the makeup dept but in my (super limited) experience they don't know what lighting they're working in and as someone who just had to try and cover eleven tattoos on my own damn body it really is all dependent on the lighting so maybe let's all suspend our disbelief and cut them some slack

[selfoe]

biggest reason shepherd is so connected to dogs, specifically dogs bred to fight, is he was also bred to fight. he wasn't born with parents who wanted him to be a doctor or lawyer, but he was created to infiltrate and help destroy. he was made to be uncaring of anything but his missions, he was pit against his 'siblings' (other re-genes) at the farm, he was made to keep fighting no matter how badly he's hurt because he was made a weapon that can just be picked up and put back together again—and not only do his creators see him this way, but everyone in the city and, in his universe, the world.

and that's the main reason he's so independent, why it's so difficult for him to accept help and to accept that people want to help him, that people actually care for him and his wellbeing; and even if he can acknowledge that they truly care, he can't trust them enough to care after seeing his tattoos, after finding out what he is. his arrogance cannot override his fear of true recognition, of being truly seen, and this is where a lot of his anger comes from. he's angry he feels this way, angry he's scared, angry that he was made the way he was, angry at the people who made him this way and have instilled this fear into him. it's a deep-rooted anger that wraps around his veins and stabs into his heart and brain, anchors there—it's not something that can be dug out from the pit of his stomach, that can be cut out in sections. he is a dog bred to fight, baring his teeth at the people trying to extend their kind hands towards him. he is a dog bred to fight, shaking, wanting to trust but unable to.

(smth about looking into the mirror and the face that stares back is your worst enemy. a disconnect from past self, from the dog that tried to trust and had it all taken away, hating that past self for being so naive and it leading to becoming the dog that bares it's teeth despite wanting so badly to learn to trust.)

[todayisafridaynight]

I've been in my feelings about Jo and Aoki's last interactions for a bit...

Because that whole scene is textbook verbal abuse, right... Aoki is very clearly trying to tear Jo's self-esteem and bolster his own, establish control, all that, and Jo just has to stand there meekly and take it. All because Jo's disobeyed one too many times and Aoki needs someone he knows he can control to head the Tokyo Omi Alliance.

Like Jo says he's never disobeyed Aoki except in that one instance, but not handling things himself at Otohime Land was very much his way of giving Ichi an out indirectly, and I feel like Aoki was beginning to catch on based on his comments about Jo neglecting the situation and acting strangely. Directly refusing his orders just confirmed his suspicions.

It's kind of lost among all the bombshells dropped in Chapter 13, but Jo's hesitance to kill anyone who's important to Arakawa is a big deal to me. It's not like he had any personal ties to Hoshino or any investment in maintaining the balance of the Ijin Three whatsoever; he went to those lengths to set himself up to be stopped because Arakawa wouldn't want Hoshino to die and that was it.

To return to the scene, I think it's also a great demonstration of Aoki's "those who use and those who get used" mentality. This next thing is... pretty badly mistranslated, at least in the subs, so it was lost on me for a while. But before the Lost Puppy line, the specific way Aoki chooses to downplay Jo's merit is by telling him he only got to his position because everyone was so sensitive to his (Aoki's) feelings and could tell he favored Jo, following him around like a lost puppy being precisely why Aoki favored him.

I don't think that was all there was to it, of course. Dude was five and deliberately brings Jo wherever he goes to this day by choice. It's kind of like those guys who get rejected once and start going on tirades about how "she should've been grateful, she was ugly anyway." But that's what Aoki wants to portray--you only had it that good because of me, and I can take it away whenever I want. Whenever you're no longer of use. Anything to preserve his status as the user and Jo's as the used.

Jo's crossed the line at this point. He is no longer of use. He does kind of get into it so that takes the edge off my frustration with The English Language, but from this point onward, he believes Aoki sees him as a "bullet"--a hitman only sent on suicide missions. So despite everything he's done for him, despite being "the favorite," he knows full well Aoki's trying to kill him before Aoki even gives Ishioda the order. And... he accepts it.

So TO GO FROM THAT to having to reconcile in prison would've been so much powerful than what the ending was trying to do. Having to come to terms with the fact you killed one of the only people who saw you for who you were and truly cared about you, were going to kill the other two, and have abused all three from the moment you realized you had power over them. And for Jo, going through everything he went through because of Aoki and loving him without question anyway... Getting to express that in some small way... I need to lie down...

ALSO tattoo essay... later... maybe tomorrow... I mainly just feel like I sound extremely mean about rggtattoos' take😭😭😭but the show must go on

YEAH NO THAT'S IT ALL FAX NO PRINTER NO EXTRA NOTES NECESSARY

It'd be the fact that Aoki'd have no choice but to confront those decisions he made and those things he wanted to happen. he'd made a social circle for himself where people predominantly liked him for the power and influence he had and totally turned his back on the people who- awfully ironically as he wanted- loved him for him

He'd already smoothed things over with Ichi, so- by his own hand- all that was left was Jo, the person he'd taken for granted the most next to Arakawa and who he planned to have executed alongside him. Jo's got every right to not forgive Aoki and to push him away, let each other rot in prison ignoring each other. So it's the worst feeling when Jo doesn't do that- its impossible for me not to imagine Jo wondering about what happened for Aoki to get so banged up if he's brought into prison the same night, and making sure Aoki's okay despite it.

Whereas Ichi was more upfront about his love and even frustrated about it ('frustrated' in that 'how could Aoki be so blind not to see how much care there is for him from us'), the breaking part about Jo is that he's forced himself to be so careful about showing his affection. Ichi's love was borderline irritating for how apparent it was: Jo's could have easily been written off or ignored.

All of that said, prison is where Aoki would be forced to realize that Jo does love him like Ichi said he does; there's no reason to keep up appearance or kiss up anymore- Aoki doesn't have any use to Jo anymore (if Aoki chose to interpret Jo's loyalties as a stepping stone to promote himself), and there's certainly no where else to run. It's probably that dawning moment that's gotta be so. Oh God What The Fuck. Like it's a sobering moment for him to go 'What have I been doing this whole time/what have I done to everyone', as corny as it sounds

[legalize-necromancy]

if ur a tattoo artist in la/houston/brooklyn/philly/etc and i cannot find a single poc in your 700+ pictures on ig, i will jump u

[ebodebo]

"Si, you owe me a new couch," you half-joke, trying to ease some of the palpable tension in the air, as you sit next to your boyfriend, Simon, on your couch, cleaning the gash on his side with a face cloth.

The poor guy had shown up at your door in the middle of the night with the nastiest gash to his side. It was a superficial cut, so nothing that needed immediate medical attention, but it still bled—a lot

He wouldn't say how he acquired the laceration, but you suspected it couldn't have been good. You kept your assumptions to yourself and have been tending to them for the last five minutes or so.

"I'll buy you any kind you like," he picks his head up from its place on the back of the couch. You catch his eyes boring into the side of your head as you continue cleaning the area, finally looking up to lock eyes with him. The sincerity in his eyes has you letting out a small laugh.

"You don't have to," you murmur as your eyes shift to the gauze to your side. You carefully open a fresh piece, place it on the cut, and secure it with paper tape. You gently press the sides, securing the tape to his skin. "All done. Good boy," you jokingly say, tossing the gauze's empty packaging onto the coffee table in front of you.

You feel his hand grip your chin, pulling you towards his lips. You are slightly taken aback, even making a noise of surprise, but you quickly reciprocate the kiss.

He tasted of Nicorette gum and cigarette smoke with a hint of liquor. You would scowl at him later for the cigarette smell since he had supposedly quit, but right now, you could feel by the way he gripped your face he craved a taste of you.

You raised your hand to grip his jaw, trying to bring him closer. He senses your desire, gripping your hips and swinging you over his legs so you are now straddling him, never once disconnecting his lips from yours.

While you adjust to the new position, your knee grazes his gash, making him grunt into your mouth. You pull back slightly to speak; both of your chests are heaving. "Am I hurting you?" Your brows furrow in concern as you gently bring your hand to rest in his messy hair.

He knots his hand in your hair, lips brushing against yours. "Only if you stop,” he pants, deepening the kiss.

You smile into his lips, gripping his jaw, feeling his teeth clash against your own. One of his hands lingers over your hip once again, kneading the fat of it. The other lingers from your hair to pull down your shirt on your shoulder, revealing your collarbone.

His lips hover over your clavicle, eyes flicking to take note of a new, very small ‘s’ inked into your flesh. He brings his hand up to brush his fingertips over the tattoo.

“You got this for me?” He enunciates the ‘me,’ like it was just so unable to believe you would ever want to taint your skin for him.

“You like it?” You chew on your bottom lip, giddy with anticipation. He leans back against the back of the chair, shifting his torso a little. You let out a slight moan when you feel how hard he is.

“Do you feel that?” He gruffs, gripping your waist and grinding you against his clothed hard-on. You grip his shoulders with each of your hands tightly, hissing through your teeth, “How could I not?”

He leans forward, lips hovering over the shell of your ear so you can feel his hot breath against your skin. “I fuckin’ love it.”

a/n: a little fic just bc it's been a hot sec<3 divider!

[darkstaria]

Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal AU.

Chapter 4:

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 5.

This chapter is brought to you by myyyyyyy🎉birthday🎉 woohoo 🥳 I hath aged

It's a little bit shorter, but I mean come on it's a unique chapter soooo it's cool guys I swear

Lots more Batfam content this time, albeit Tim centric. I'll balance it out in the future I swear! Also it's still platonic, but you could probably get a romantic reading from this a lil bit if you try

Taglist: @moonchild-artemisdaughter @jjsmeowthie @madine11-blog @xxrougefangxx @hadesnewpersephone @neerathebrightstar @mel-star636 @jaythes1mp @rosecentury @lov3vivian @gaozorous-rex-blog @victoria1676 @vrsin @silverklaus @ryukyuin @kurai-hono-blog @thisisafish123 @isawyourbrowserhistory @ain-t-no-way-bsfr @realifezompire @lunaluz432 @nickey-diano @sukiiluvs @sara0055 @alleakimlala @kdidgg @paperhermits @lavender-moony @alishii @emmbny @sirenetheblogger @fantasy-angelo @andrasia @vinnvinnvintage @nyra-42 @armystaysatnct @beyond-your-stars @starsdotalk @adeptusxia0

----

A few days have passed since your encounter with Red Robin. He hasn't shown up since, but another thing has.

Your work had sent you an email. An invitation to Wayne Enterprises, to represent them. According to them, your location was the closest to Wayne Enterprises, and so you were selected. You lived 50 minutes away from Wayne Enterprises. Their home office was 30 minutes away. You weren't sure who was doing the math here, but they needed some more practice.

That being said, you could notice a pattern when there was one. This was Tim Drake's attempt to get you out of your home. And unfortunately, it was going to work. You needed your job. It was perfect, remote, didn't bother you as long as you got the work done. Jobs like that were rare, especially in Gotham.

Not for the first time, you kinda felt like crying.

If Red Robin, your soulmate, was indeed Tim Drake, then what was this? Did he have you figured out? Or was he continuing the investigation?

You didn't know...

Refusing to show up would get you fired. There was no way around that. But, what if you couldn't go?

What if you were too injured to go? There's no way you could fake something, the bats are quite literally master detectives. That and your soul animal form would likely reveal the uninjured truth.

Maybe if you injured yourself?

No, no no no. That was a bad route to go down. If this meeting is to check whether you are soulmates with him, a matching injury on your soul animal form would be like a criminal and a suspect having the same tattoo.

There wasn't really any option here. Which, really, is just typical for the vigilantes of Gotham.

"Ughhh." You groaned to yourself, cradling your hands with your head. You glared over at Red, who had been showing up much more frequently these past few days (which was saying something, since all your soul animals were already by you 23/7). Red gave a small chirp in reply, some sort of smugness in its tone.

Maybe it was time to invest in wind chimes or something. You heard they can scare off robins.

You felt like you were going to need it.

~ ~ ~ ~

Tim's developed something of a guilty habit.

It wasn't a bad thing, per se. Nothing B would particularly frown at. Dick might even agree.

He imagined you wouldn't quite feel the same, though.

You looked especially fragile, as you slept. During the day your face was haunted by false bravado, a paranoid edge to every smile. Sleep smoothed out the lines of your face, giving a softer touch to your slumbering form.

You frown when he reaches out to poke your cheek. It's cute. His hand twitches for his camera. You're always cute, whether it's a small little frown on your face or beaming joy.

He's developed a new favorite activity. Alongside solving cases, he's now watching you. He wants to observe it all. From little habits to obvious passions, he wants to know everything. Hobbies, skills, loves, DNA. He'd only just found you, the answer to the mystery that he's been in since birth. He's had a lot of time to build up this obsession.

He wants and wants and needs. He can wait to take.

You are a light sleeper, but he's a quiet stalker. You don't always drink milk before bed, but when you do, you'll get a little more tired than usual. Your groggy face is cute, too.

He reached out, stroking your hair with the slightest of a smile beginning on his face. It was soft. It reminded him of you, your soul animal form. It had flinched away from him earlier, as it always does whenever they were in uniform. Finding that you do the same as a human wasn't so surprising.

They had adapted to your soul form’s skittishness. They could do the same again. His mind briefly flashed through some ideas, an ankle bracelet, a watch, a collar? If it was on the ankle, you'd match.

He broke out of his musings at the shift of movement. A flutter of wings. B’s soul animal flew down perching on a piece of furniture nearby as a vantage point. He smirked. Looked like he wasn't the only one feeling a little possessive tonight.

He must've been thinking of you. Not surprising, given that your soul form was scheduled time with him today. They had to work out a schedule, else there would have been a lot more stabbings. Not that it didn't prevent sudden abductions occasionally, thanks Jason.

That was fine though. B could have you tonight, Damian could have you tomorrow, Dick the next. Because Tim had the real you, right here.

And he wasn't planning on letting go.

There's a room he's preparing inside Drake manor. He’d put your name on it, but that would be too obvious if anyone came around. Instead, it would be his little secret with you. He's only just met you, but he has plenty of ideas for it already.

He didn't feel guilty for this. Not at all.

You were his as much as he was yours after all. If there was a problem with these feelings, then why would fate itself tie you to him?

If anything, the only guilt he’d feel is not telling anyone else. He couldn't help it, he just wanted you to himself for a while. He caught you, so he was allowed to have you.

But was that really guilt? Or just annoyance at the idea of getting caught?

An alert on his communicator made him frown, taking him out of the trance he had felt into. There was more he had to do.

A shame, but it was fine. He got to spend some quality time with you, taken a few things for the future. He’d make more time. And you'll have all the time in the world for him. But first…

Tim withdrew a specialty camera from his utility belt, raising it to his face. He adjusted a few settings, then…

Snap!

~ ~ ~ ~

You fought the urge to yawn. You have been so sleepy lately. You had to wake up especially early for today. Lovely.

At least today was the moment of truth. You'd show Red Robin for once and for all that you were perfectly normal, and not at all his soulmate. He’d lose interest, and your life would return to its domesticity.

The one good thing going for today was that you're somehow accompanied by none of your soul animals. A truly rare occasion that is ruined by the fact that you're instead visiting a soulmate in the flesh. If any of your soul animals do show up, you have your old reliable bag to shove them into. So, you should be alright.

Wayne Enterprises was a terrifying image, but you steadied yourself with the fact that your whole life’s freedom was at stake here, which was much more terrifying. After that you could get through the door. Security just letting you through after giving your name almost had you running out the door though, you'd admit.

The elevator ride was long and solemn, giving you time to think about everything. Maybe you should think about moving, staying in Gotham was perhaps a ridiculous sentiment to begin with. It was a shame though, you were a Gothamite through and through, you didn't want to leave the country your parents lived and raised you in.

Still, perhaps it was time to leave. Things were getting too risky. Thinking about it, Wayne Enterprises? Honesty what even was your life.

The ding of the elevator door interrupts your musings, an assistant directing you to Tim Drake’s office.

As you walk over, you can't help but listen in to some shouting coming from the room.

A younger voice is yelling. “Give me them! You do not deser-” The voice gets cut off, as an older voice yells back. “It is my turn, you do not get to just steal them!”

The younger voice starts up again, but so does the older voice, alongside what you can only presume to be fighting noises.

You just kinda stare at the door. You are a working professional, representing your company to the prestigious Wayne Enterprises. You came here with lofty expectations and responsibilities to fulfill. And the CEO… is fighting someone in his office.

You have no idea what to do.

A minute passes.

You started to think about signaling an assistant to come help, but before you could do so the fighting seemed to end with a shouted “Fine! But B will hear about-” you can't hear the rest, as the shouting returns to a normal volume.

A door is opened and slammed, footsteps retreating away from the office. You take a moment to appreciate the fact that Tim Drake’s office has two doors that lead in different places, because it means you didn't have to meet whoever he was fighting.

A second or two later, the door in front of you swings open. Tim Drake is facing you, his hair a little askew, and his cheeks a little red. He smiles, an easy thing. It's as if the sight of you brought it to his face.

“Welcome!” He waves you in, somehow not acknowledging what you just heard in any form. The objects in his office are perfectly aligned. Nothing looks disturbed at all. How?

He waves you over to a chair, settling into one himself.

“Well.” He begins. “It's nice to see you again, Y/n."

You hope this goes by quickly.

[froggiewrites]

Fanboy

Pairing: Law x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You get a little more than you bargained for when you decide to clean your Captain's office for him and stumble upon his smutty fanfiction. Warnings: Very Mild Angst, Smut, Fem!Reader, Roleplay, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Edging, Minor Dacryphilia, Petnames (use of sweetheart and good girl) Word Count: 7.6k Notes: This was originally supposed to be a sub 2000 word silly one shot about Law writing Sora smut. As you can see, it very quickly got out of hand. I hope you all enjoy it!

You have come to terms with the fact your Captain does not and will never want you how you want him.

It was hard, at first, to hear his silky voice and see his strong hands and not imagine him saying what you want to hear as he holds you against the wall, fingers slipping slowly up your thighs to where you need him most. It got even harder a few years in, after he started wearing perpetually open shirts and coats, showing off the tattoos you so desperately want to trace your tongue across. But you’re finally starting to accept that he simply doesn’t feel the same. His eyes don’t linger on you when you’re around. He doesn’t show you any leniency (not that you would expect any, of course, but it’s hard not to notice his favoritism for Bepo when he forgives him in an instant for a transgression he had you swab the deck for). He doesn’t accept your help when you offer it, no matter how badly he needs it.

He just doesn’t really want anything to do with you, or at least no more to do with you than anyone else on the ship. Penguin and Shachi, who unfortunately clocked your affection for your Captain years ago, have come up with a long list of excuses as to why he hasn’t shown any signs of affection.

“He’s shy.”

“He gets embarrassed easily.”

“He’s worried about the power gap.”

“He only looks at you when you aren’t looking.”

“Yelling is how he shows his affection.”

And of course, your personal favorite.

“He’s just a nerd. He doesn’t know how to act around women.”

Shachi has repeated this one a lot, and as always you immediately dispute it. “That cannot possibly be true, Shachi.”

“Why not?”

“Look at him!”

“I know what he looks like. Doesn’t change the fact he gets nervous.”

“Captain has never, for even a single moment, shown any sort of hesitation or shyness in front of me. And he’s a grown man, a handsome one, not to mention a wanted pirate. You honestly expect me to believe he’s some shy little nerd who can’t bring himself to talk to me? He just doesn’t like me, Shachi. And that’s fine. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

“Handle what?” Penguin’s voice echoes in the small room he and Shachi share, which you’ve decided to invade for the day. 

“Her pining for Captain.”

“Ah.”

You huff. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like it’s like…a fact of life. Something so easy to brush past.”

Shachi narrows his eyes in confusion. “I thought you said that’s what you wanted to do. Be casual about it, and all.”

“Yeah, I want to. It feels different when you do it.” You’re pouting. You hate that you’re pouting.

Penguin gives you a pitying smile, dripping with good natured sympathy that makes you clench your jaw. “It’s tough, isn’t it?” He sits on the edge of his bed, careful not to shift you too much. He pats your shoulder, tutting quietly. “It’s hard to get over somebody you don’t really want to get over.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. You finally lift your head, and once you make eye contact, his smile turns a little more teasing.

“I know a great guy you could use as a rebound.”

You sigh. “Is it you?”

He laughs. “Who’s to say? You don’t need him yet.” His smile softens again, something more genuine. “But know that if you really do give up, there will be other guys. Other chances. Give this one a good shot, a real one, and if it doesn’t work out? Come talk to us, and it’ll all be alright.”

Shachi pipes up as well. “It will work out, really. But if it doesn’t…” he wiggles his eyebrows, and you can’t help but finally give them the laugh they were clearly aiming for. Which becomes a full on giggle fit once they light up and give each other a massive high five at their victory. The room is warm, and you finally forget your worries for a moment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Law’s voice cuts through you like ice, and your laughter stops in an instant. Shachi and Penguin are unphased, of course, still smiling freely.

“I just got off of my shift, Captain. I was going to take a nap, but…” Penguin pokes your side, and you let out a soft squeak as you curl in on yourself. You don’t miss the way Law’s eyes narrow slightly at the contact, the way he seems to focus in on the noise. He must be annoyed with you, with how you’re taking up space somewhere you don’t belong.

“I’m also off shift.” Your voice is small, embarrassingly so. 

“I wasn’t talking to you two.” Law’s voice is just as flat and authoritative as always. He’s nothing if not born to command. You’d love to hear what commands he might give you, if–

No. Bad. Evil. Your mind betrays you, as it always does. You sit up so you can hide yourself behind Penguin, make yourself small and inconspicuous and hope that Law will stop looking at you with those beautiful piercing eyes. You don’t know how long you can be normal under such an intense gaze. 

“I’m on break,” Shachi defends, causing Law’s eyes to shift over to him. You can’t help but let out a sigh of relief as you feel the pressure of his gaze leave you, and you wrap your arms lightly around Penguin, allowing your forehead to fall forward and press into his back. You can feel the rumble of a laugh working its way through his chest, though you can’t figure out why.

Law’s voice is significantly harsher than before. “Well, end it.” You flinch, unused to him snapping quite so cruelly. Law may have a shorter temper than he would admit, but he never sounds quite so furious, especially not with Shachi and Penguin. He seems to realize this as well, because the next time he speaks is much gentler. “I–Just get back to work. I need everyone at their best right now.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” There’s a hint of chuckle in Shachi’s voice, for some reason. He stands, bed creaking as he does. “You can use my bed if you want to nap in here. Let Peng have his.”

You let out a soft whine, but peel yourself off of Penguin anyway. “No, it’s fine, I should get back to my room anyway. I need a nap before I do anything else.” You think you see Law nodding in approval out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to look at him, his eyes are firmly on Shachi, glaring at his back as he leaves. Just wishful thinking on your part, as always. 

Penguin softly pats your back as you walk past. “Chin up. It’ll all work out.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“What’ll work out?” Law is staring at Penguin’s hand on your back.

“Nothing!” You try not to sound panicked. You fail, of course.

His eyes narrow.

“Sorry, Captain. This is a secret just for us lowly crew members. No captains allowed!” Penguin’s smile is relaxed and easy, and it almost manages to calm you down. You would love to play along, make a little joke out of it, but the idea of him finding out petrifies you. What if he’s disgusted by the idea? Horrified enough to kick you out of the crew, your home, your family? He wouldn’t, you know that, but the image in your head is so clear. Your chest feels tight, your head fuzzy, and you think at some point you started holding your breath.

Law makes a noncommittal grunt, scowl still clear on his face, but he leaves. A small mercy.

“Hey, take a breath, please. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”

“Are you gonna be alright to get back to your room? Do you need me to walk you?” Penguin’s hand rests gently on your elbow, and he looks ready to jump to your aid at any moment.

You give him a shaky smile. “I’ll be alright. Anxiety’s never killed anyone. Probably.” You take care to walk as steadily as you can out of the room, avoiding eye contact with your Captain, who’s waiting directly outside.

“You okay?” His voice stops you in your tracks.

“Yeah, I’m–” You see the disbelief on his face. “I’ve been better. But it’s okay. I’ll get there.”

“Are Penguin and Shachi giving you trouble? They mean well, but sometimes their jokes can go a little far. I–” He clears his throat, eyes glancing away for a moment. “I could talk to them. If you need me to.”

You chuckle. This means he really has no idea he’s the source of your anguish. Good. “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that. They’re actually helping me through something.”

He purses his lips. You imagine how soft they’d feel on yours. “Helping you through something?”

“Yeah. I’ve been struggling with it lately, and talking to them has really helped.” You stare intensely at the wall behind him, worrying that you’ll come undone and say something you can’t take back if you stare into his eyes for too long. Something about him just makes you want to melt under his gaze, and you can’t afford to give in to the impulse.

He hums, eyes briefly fluttering closed. “I see. Well, I’m glad you have their support.” Is it just you, or is his voice a bit colder than it was before? “I’ll leave you be. Have a nice nap.”

“Thanks, Captain.” You try not to run back to your room until you’re sure he can’t hear your footsteps anymore. You change out of your boiler suit, desperate to be in something more comfortable than this, and throw yourself into your bed face first. You press your face into your pillow, trying to ground yourself. You aren’t allowed to imagine what it would feel like to lay on Law’s chest instead, his hands on your back, tracing meaningless patterns into your skin. You aren’t allowed to imagine the warmth of the blankets as his, or the comfort of your weighted blanket as his arm around your back. You certainly aren’t allowed to cry about the fact that it isn’t him, and that it never will be. Because that would mean you weren’t getting over him, instead getting lost in a fantasy of what can never and will never be. And you have no time for fantasy, despite what your heart keeps trying to tell you. 

You dream of him, as you always seem to.

You could cope with it, if it were simply sex. If it were about nothing more than his cock and his hands and the way his voice penetrates deep into your bones whenever you hear it, turning you pliable and needy. But today’s dream is one you’ve had before, and one you always dread.

I love you. His hands are gentle as they wrap around your waist, pulling you close. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. His nose nuzzles against your neck, tickling you and making you giggle.

I love you too, Law. I think I always have. Your hands rest on his chest, and you can feel his heart beating below your fingers, quick and thundering. You smile. Nervous?

Of course I am. Look at you. His eyes bore into yours, and you can see the affection flooding them. His nose brushes against yours, his lips growing closer, and his eyes flutter shut.

Yours shoot open.

No matter how many dreams you have about Law, you can never kiss him. How sad, that your brain can imagine a hundred ways he can fuck you and not one in which gives you the one thing you’ve been craving most.

You throw off your covers and throw on a bra, not bothering to get fully dressed. You need some air, which is unfortunate, considering the Tang won’t surface for at least another day or two. You can at least go downstairs and find a window, press yourself against the glass and pretend you’re out in the cold of the ocean, at peace with the world around you. You can avoid passing Law’s office, and hopefully that means you’ll avoid the man himself. You don’t want to burst into tears the moment you see him, and you feel too soft and fragile right now, like your edges are crumbling. Half of you is still in the dream, melting into fantasy, and being snapped into reality with a single look might shatter you.

You pad quietly out into the hallway, unsure of what time it is, not wanting to wake anyone. It’s impossible to tell what time of day it is on the Tang when you’re underwater, lit only by harsh fluorescents that constantly buzz. It’s peaceful, feeling the cold metal of the floors seep through your socks and hearing the quiet thunk of your footsteps muffled by the fabric. 

“Are you heading downstairs?”

You turn to see Bepo, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, papers in hand. “Yeah, I am. Why? Do you need something?”

“Can you run these to Captain for me? I would, but–” 

You see him wince as he speaks, and you immediately know what the problem is. Before you can even think about it, you’re swiping the papers from his hands easily. “Yeah, of course, big guy. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you so much!” He’s off in an instant.

You stare at the papers, willing yourself into reality. You’re going to bring something to your captain. The man you have no other relationship with. Just doing your job. And afterwards you can go back to your room and cry all you want, if you really feel like you need to.

Law should be in his office right now, buried up to his neck in paperwork. It doesn’t feel great to add to that pile, or to let him see you so underdressed, but Bepo needed help. You can’t let him suffer just to avoid some embarrassment. You make your way down, knocking lightly against his office door.

No voice calls you inside.

Strange. He should be here. Maybe he fell asleep at his desk again. You’ve heard the others scold him for that dozens of times, and you’ve caught him yourself once or twice. He’s going to ruin his back if he keeps doing that. You crack open the door, ready to shift him into a more comfortable position, but you find your Captain isn’t actually there at all. His desk is a mess, papers everywhere, a sharp contrast from the neatly organized shelves and minimalist look of the rest of the room.

“Maybe I should tidy up for him,” you mutter to yourself. Law hates asking for help with things he believes he should be able to handle on his own, but clearly this is getting away from him. And even if he wasn’t grateful for the intrusion, at least it might lighten his load a little. You’d do nearly anything to ease your Captain’s burdens, if he’d just let you.

Before you realize it, your hands are on the papers, your former fragility forgotten as you get lost in the calm that such a mundane task brings you. You start by simply organizing the papers into stacks based on their titles and a quick skim of their opening paragraphs. You don’t read any further, not wanting to read anything not meant for your eyes, and you quickly find you’re able to organize everything into three neat stacks: medical papers, ship logs, and a third stack of anything that doesn’t fit into the previous two. You’re nearly finished when you find a title that makes you pause.

You can’t figure out what What You Can’t Have could mean, or what this bundle of papers is doing in Law’s office. Skimming the first few paragraphs doesn’t give you any explanation, until you start reading more closely and see a name: Sora.

Everyone in the North Blue knows about Sora, Warrior of the Sea, and everyone on this ship knows it more intimately than most. Your Captain’s fondness for the series and your fondness for him means you know it very well, well enough to know this is not one of the noncanonical (but still official) spinoff novels, or a novel adaptation of one of the comics. There’s a character you’ve never heard of before in this, one that, if you were a more paranoid person, you would suspect is based on you. She can’t be, of course. That would be ridiculous. But as you read her introductory paragraph, you can’t help but notice she bears a striking physical resemblance to you. Same hair and eye color, same height, same build. But she can’t be you. She’s described as seductive, enchanting, and many other things you know nobody would ever say about you.

You should put this down. But the writing style is so familiar, and so are the handwritten edits in the margins. Your captain wrote this. You had no idea this was what he did in what little spare time he has. You keep telling yourself to stop reading, to tuck it away and pretend you didn’t see it, because really, you know he wouldn’t want you to have seen it, easily embarrassed as he is. But there’s so much passion in the words, so much care, and frankly? It’s good. Really good. You think he has some real talent, in something you would have never expected him to even try. His care for the series oozes from every word, and he’s really good at building tension, and–

Oh.

Your captain hasn’t just been writing fanfiction about his favorite hero.

He’s been writing smut.

Really good smut, honestly.

You lean against the desk, completely enraptured by his work. The tension between Sora and this unnamed woman is astonishing, every single word winding you up tighter as you wait for the dam to break. Before you know it, you’re fully bent over the desk, clutching the page in your hands, trying not to rub your thighs together at the very graphic descriptions of what Sora is doing with his hands. You imagine Law’s hands, lithe and long, sliding under your shirt like Sora’s do under this mystery woman’s. You imagine his breath puffing against your ear as he instructs, be good for me, now, and maybe you can finally get what you want, just like Sora does. You imagine him moving impossibly closer, feeling his hardness press into your thigh as– 

“What are you doing in here?”

You freeze. Your captain is standing in the door, papers in hand and scowl severe. If you didn’t know better, you would think for a moment his eyes lingered on the cleavage you’re showing by leaning over this far. But you do know better, so you tell yourself he’s simply observing the papers in your hands, even if his gaze seems aimed too high for that. You shoot up, papers still in hand, shirt riding up in the process, and god does it look like his eyes dip down to your exposed midriff in the process. But they don’t. You have more pressing matters than your delusions, anyway.

“Hi Captain!”

“...Hi.”

“I–Um. I was organizing your desk for you.”

His eyes linger on the three stacks of papers, humming quietly. “I see that. …Why?”

“Bepo had me run papers down to you, but you weren’t here, and–and your desk was so messy, so much messier than usual, and I was worried maybe you were overwhelmed and I thought it might help.” You’re speaking a mile a minute, clutching the papers close to your chest in some desperate attempt to ground yourself, but the sound of the papers wrinkling causes him to glance down and now you’re sure that just for a moment he was looking at your boobs and you’re far more flustered than you were when you began.

And even worse, he smiles. It’s a soft, gentle thing, which sneaks so slowly onto his face you don’t even know if he realizes it’s there. But it is. And it’s beautiful. “Thank you, then. I appreciate the thought.”

Your grip eases on the papers for a second, and the crinkling brings his attention back to them. You don’t know what gives it away, but with the way his eyes widen slightly, the way his lips part, you know that he knows what you have in your hands. The way he whispers your name, the fear in it, makes your heart clench.

“Captain–”

“Did you–I–” He takes a breath, gathers himself. “Did you read anything you weren’t supposed to?”

God, you did. You’re halfway through a sex scene, flushed and flustered and thinking about your captain in ways that are wholly and completely inappropriate. You’re panicking. You can’t let Law see how flustered you are, can’t let him realize that you were fantasizing about him, lusting after him in his office while he’s out like some kind of pervert. So, trying to turn this around on him, throw him off his rhythm, you decide to make a deeply out of character choice.

You open your mouth, taking a dramatic breath as though you're going to start reading aloud, and you can see the panic in Law's eyes. Before you can decide between reading and handing it over to spare him the embarrassment, you hear “Shambles!” as the papers in your hand are swapped with the ones he walked in with. You're momentarily disappointed, before you look down and are struck with intense and all consuming delight.

In trying to get the fanfiction out of your hands, Law has, in fact, given you more of his fanfiction to read.

You gasp quietly, cheshire cat grin widening. Law looks at you with confusion, clearly still so thrown he hasn't realized what's just transpired. In your current state, you can only think of one way to inform him.

"Her hands were soft and gentle, so small compared to his-"

"STOP." He lunges forward around the desk, powers forgotten as he decides to bullrush you to get the papers out of your hands. His hands wrap around your wrists, and before you know it you’re pinned against the desk, chests pressed together, his leg pressed between your thighs. You flush, overwhelmed by the sensation of his hard body against yours, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Do you think this is funny?”

You open your mouth to respond, but his lips are so close, and you feel something else pressing into your midriff. You make a small choked noise, and his glare doesn’t dampen.

“Are you trying to embarrass your captain?”

“I��uh–Captain–” You can barely squeak out anything, and he presses closer.

“Answer me.”

“You’re so close.”

He pauses.

He blinks.

And suddenly your captain is across the room, face bright red, holding his papers in front of his chest like a shield. “I–um.” He stares at you a moment, his eyes moving from your face to your chest to your hips and back up, and suddenly the papers shifts down in front of his crotch.

He couldn’t…

Could he?

Before you can process this, he’s speaking again, his tone far less authoritative than it was before. “How far did you read?”

“Uh–pretty far.”

You could swear his voice cracks a little as he whispers, “Oh god. This is–you were never supposed to see that.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep reading, it was just–it was really good.”

He stares at you a moment, mouth agape. “What?”

“It was–I liked it a lot. I didn’t even mean to start it, I just couldn’t figure out what pile to put it in, and then I got really invested, and–I’m really, really sorry, Captain.”

“You liked it?” His eyes are narrowed, looking at you like something dangerous, like if he shows a moment of weakness you’ll pounce. He approaches you slowly, inching closer and closer.

“...Yeah. I did. I was really impressed, actually. I didn’t know you were a writer.”

He scoffs. “I wouldn’t call myself that.”

“Why?”

“I just…don’t know if I’m good at it.” He sounds small in a way you’ve never heard him. You’ve never seen Law less than confident before. He absolutely radiates it, a constant smug grin and twinkle in his eyes. It suits him far better than slumped shoulders and wringing hands.

“Are you kidding? It was amazing. What I was able to read, anyway. I couldn’t bear to put it down.” You reach for him for just a moment, your hand ready to touch his shoulder, but something in you pulls it back. You can’t bring yourself to touch him, not as you are. 

He won’t look at you. You can feel his regret in sharing, in allowing his mask to crack slightly. There’s a bitterness to his tone as he snaps at you like a wounded animal. “You expect me to believe that? That you didn’t just read it to laugh at me?”

You can’t keep the pity off of your face. His first instinct is always to believe he’ll be hurt, that an open hand is a sign of a slap, and not a kind touch. “Why on earth would I do that, Captain?”

His shoulders unknot a bit as he thinks it over. You have never done anything to hurt him, and to tease in such a cruel way is not in your nature. He’s not relaxed, not quite, but he isn’t ready to run anymore. He leans against a nearby table, parking himself at a distance but assuring you he won’t go further. “I suppose you wouldn’t. …So you really liked it?”

The way he’s looking at you is so fragile, so soft. You feel your heart clench at the sight of such a guarded man looking so adorable, though you know he would hate to be called such a thing. You can’t help the affection that leaks into your gentle smile as you look at him. “I really did.”

He huffs, trying to bring back up his walls, but he can’t hide his relief, and his continued interest. “What did you like about it?”

“I thought the descriptions were very vivid. It was…” It feels like crossing a line you can’t uncross to call it hot, but he’s looking at you so expectantly. “Very stimulating.”

Something akin to a smirk grows on his face, offset by the dust of a blush on his cheeks. His voice is an octave deeper when he speaks. “Simulating?”

You shiver. “I–uh–yes. The leads had really good chemistry. I never imagined Sora would be so…charming. And I liked the woman too, though I have to admit I didn’t recognize her name.”

He nods. “You wouldn’t. She’s an original character.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I wanted to try my hand at something new, and I didn’t like pairing him with any of the canon characters so I just…made one up.”

You shift nervously on your feet, thinking about how remarkably familiar her description was. “So you made her just for this? Didn’t even give her a name?”

“I haven’t decided her name yet, but I’m working on it. And yeah, she’s just for this. Why?”

You want to be subtle, ease your way in, but your mind is running a mile a minute and frankly subtlety has never been your strong suit anyway. “So…is she supposed to be me?”

He shoots up so quickly he nearly falls over. “What? No! No, why would you think that?” He looks absolutely mortified, like he’s praying the floor swallows him whole. He looks about two seconds away from shambling himself out of the sub and letting the ocean take him away.

“Well in her intro, when you describe her…she looks a lot like me.”

“...She does?” He seems genuinely surprised, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Why are you asking? You’re the writer! You didn’t realize?”

“No, I…” He’s blushing to the tips of his ears. “She was just supposed to be a beautiful woman. I didn’t think that hard about what she looked like beyond that.”

“She has the same hair color and eye color as me, you describe her as around my height, and the dress she’s wearing in her intro is my favorite color.”

His shoulders are so tense they’re practically up over his ears. If his voice cracks when he yells, you’re kind enough not to acknowledge it. “I didn’t think that much about it! I just thought of a beautiful woman and I described her.”

“So when you think of a beautiful woman in your head, you see me?”

He doesn’t answer.

You try to hide your giddy smile. “That’s sweet, Captain.”

He avoids eye contact so aggressively you swear it must be hurting him at this point. “It wasn’t–I–I didn’t notice. You don’t think it’s…creepy?”

“That you think I’m beautiful?”

“That I wrote porn about a woman who looks exactly like you.”

“Oh. When you put it like that I guess it doesn’t sound great.” He tenses again, so you rush to reassure him. “But no, I don’t think it’s creepy. It’s not like you meant to, or anything. Or that you wrote about me and like, another member of the crew or something. Why would I be mad that I just happen to be exactly your type?” Your heart is beating out of your chest as you try to portray a confidence you certainly don’t feel. 

“Right. Yeah. I–There’s nothing wrong with that.”

He didn’t deny it.

“And it’s…great porn, honestly.”

Your delivery is so awkward the tension finally breaks as he laughs at you. “I appreciate that. I worked hard on it. But I’m not sure on some of the descriptions.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure it reads as true to life.”

“Does it need to?”

“No, not really, fantasies don’t have to be realistic. But…I can’t help but think about it anyway. What if part of it is so unrealistic it takes you out of it entirely, and I just didn’t notice? Or didn’t know because I’ve never tried that specific thing? Do you know what I mean?”

You do. You know insecurity in your work, the way it whispers in your ear. You know that words are not enough reassurance to silence those whispers. You want to help him, even if you don’t know how you could.

“What if we…tested it? To see if it’s realistic?” You can’t believe the words that just left your mouth. From the look on his face, Law can’t either.

“What?” A beautiful crimson streaks across his face and up to his ears, heat radiating off of him.

“Oh my god. Forget I said that, that was so inappropriate, I’ll just go–”

“No!” He’s so loud you both flinch, and he seems surprised by his own objection. His long fingers are wrapped around your wrist, and you can feel his calluses brush against your skin. God, what you wouldn’t give for those fingers to be somewhere else. “No, don’t–don’t leave. I think–I would–um. I’d like that.”

You blink. “You would?”

“Just to…test it. To make sure my writing is accurate. I’m a perfectionist.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.” His eyes flicker down to where he’s holding you, and to your surprise, he doesn’t release his grip. He tugs you closer, pressing your chests together, and you can feel his warm breath in his ear. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Law.”

“What?”

The deep rumble of his voice is commanding in a way that has you rubbing your thighs together. “I want to hear you say my name. Call me Law.”

“Yes, Law.”

You can feel his smirk as he whispers the next words in your ear. “Good girl.”

Heat rushes to your face, and you bite your lip to keep from making any deeply embarrassing noises. He chuckles as he pulls away, and you see no trace of his earlier apprehension or nerves. You suppose Law has always been a good liar, always putting up the front of the proud, confident, and unshakable Surgeon of Death. What is this but another part for him to play?

“How did it start again?” He places his hands on your hips, leading you away from the desk and toward the wall. “She and Sora meet up in the club, strike up a conversation–”

“Can we skip to the good part?” You hate how needy and breathless you sound. You’re already worked up from reading, from hearing him speak, from being so close, that you think if you spend another minute without some kind of release you might explode.

He chuckles. “I guess we can skip forward a bit.” He presses you against the wall, hand sliding to your thigh. You shiver, but he stops right before his fingers slide under your shorts. “But have you been good enough to earn it?”

You whine, a pathetic, wounded sound that comes from deep within you. For a moment, you see his facade slip as he swallows, trying not to give away how much the sound turned him on. But after a moment his mask settles back firmly in place, and you’re both ready to continue the game. “Please, Law. I’ve been good. I’ll be good.”

His smile is all teeth as his fingers find their place inside of you. First one, pumping slowly and deliberately, curling to hit your sweet spot just right. He moans quietly in your ear at the feeling of it. You know his line before he says it. “Do you feel that? The way you’re pulling me in? You need me bad, sweetheart, don’t you?”

He inserts a second finger right as you open your mouth to answer. “Ahh–Yes! I need you!”

He pumps harder, faster, and his other hand starts to wander towards your chest. His lips find your neck, nipping at the point where it meets your jaw, making you gasp again. His hand gently squeezes your breast through your shirt, and he can feel your hardened nipples through the fabric. He chuckles. “Yes, you do. Nobody else can make you feel as good as I can. You know it. That’s why you’re here, that’s why you’re so drawn to me. On some level you know: it’s just you and me. We’re all there is, all that matters. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Law! Yes!”

His free hand effortlessly removes your shirt, and you gasp as you’re exposed to the air, your back pressing into the cold wall. He removes your bra next, letting out a soft hiss of appreciation when he finally sees them fully exposed. “As beautiful as I imagined,” he whispers, seemingly to himself. You don’t remember that line.

His mouth finds your nipple easily, sucking and nipping as you threaten to come undone under his attention. His fingers are still moving, his thumb on your clit, building the tension in your body until you feel like you’re going to explode. You’re so very close to the edge, close enough that in your pleasure you forget the next part of the story for a moment.

Until his fingers leave you.

“No!” Your head slams back into the wall as you wail, tears welling up in your eyes. Law seems unaffected, pulling back from you as he slowly inserts his fingers into his mouth, savoring your taste. The only sign that you’ve shaken him is the clear strain of his cock under his jeans, desperate to be free.

His fingers leave his mouth with a pop, and he smiles at you, eyes half-lidded. “Did you think it was going to be that easy? That you would just get what you want, no questions asked?”

You whine, the sound filled with genuine despair. The room is silent for a moment as he stares at you, waiting for your next line, and you try to remember the part you’re supposed to play here. You just barely manage to grasp it, breathlessly saying, “I thought you were a better man than to leave a lady wanting.”

He slides off his tank top, revealing his beautiful tattoos to you. “Oh, honey, this isn’t about what you want. It’s about what you need. And how wonderful it’ll be, once you’re so on edge you can barely stand it, and I finally give in to you. Can you imagine it?” He pops the button of his pants next, sensually sliding them and his boxers down to expose his bare hips. “What it’ll feel like, when I’m finally inside of you?”

His cock is finally free, bobbing in the air as it leaks with precum. He looks painfully hard, and you swallow as you briefly imagine it in your mouth. You’d give almost anything to taste him right now, but that isn’t a part of the scene.

“You’ll feel so full, honey. Imagine how good it’ll feel to cum on my cock. Isn’t that worth the wait?”

“God, yes.”

“Good girl. So agreeable.” One hand finds your hips as he uses the other to line himself up. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, god, please.”

He slowly slides in, feeling the drag of every inch of his dick against your walls. He makes a strangled noise at the feeling, burying his face into your neck as he desperately tries to catch his breath. He stops once he’s fully sheathed in you, giving you both a moment to adjust.

And then another.

And another.

“Law?”

You can hear him chuckle against you. “What, darling?”

“Please, Law.”

He pretends to ponder whether or not to give in for a moment, keeping you in suspense, before he relents. He pulls away from your neck, revealing his extremely red face. His voice may be calm, but the rest of him cannot hide the effects you’re having. “What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.”

You know the line you’re supposed to say next. She tells Sora she wants relief, wants him to move, wants anything that she can have. But you’re soft, and weak, filled with want. You cannot help but think of your dream this morning, what you were denied and what you’ve always wanted. So you speak the honest truth. “I want you to kiss me.”

He stares at you for a moment, eyes searching yours. You see your own want reflected in him, an affection that makes your chest ache. Then a smile blooms across his face, one gentler than you deserve. The line he says next is Sora’s, but what comes after is all Law. “Whatever the lady wants,” he murmurs, before his lips meet yours.

The kiss isn’t fireworks, or an all consuming flame, or any other way you’d ever heard such a thing described. It was tender, it was kind, and most importantly, it was Law. You’d never wanted anything else. It finally confirms to you that this isn’t a dream, that he’s really here, pressing you against this wall, a desire burning in him that only you can satiate. The lust is still here, the heat of your bodies intertwined, but there’s something tender and real beneath it. 

Once you both pull back, panting, you look into his eyes and know the scene is well and truly over. Now it’s just you and Law, breaths mingling and hearts pounding. He smiles at you, a nervous, delicate thing, his confidence left behind with the script. He’s breathless as he whispers, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

You let out a soft, unsure laugh. “Is that Law talking, or Sora?”

He brushes his nose against yours. “It’s all me. It always has been.”

You can’t help your lovesick smile, dripping with a saccharine fondness you couldn’t hide if you tried. You meet his lips again, a kiss with a little more fire, a little more desperation. You try to convey everything you can’t say aloud: the years of yearning, the pain of thinking this moment would never come, the euphoria of learning you were wrong. Your hands press against his chest, his pulse fluttering under your fingers in unison with your own. You wrap your legs around his waist, desperate to pull him ever closer. He lets out a soft sound, almost a whimper, at the feeling of your lips against his as you clench around him. His tongue slips into your mouth, and once again the air around you grows ever hotter.

“Can I move?” There’s a whine to his voice. “Please.”

“Please do,” you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chests together. 

He needs no further instruction, thrusting harshly, hips rutting against yours. You can feel him struggle to hold himself back from pounding into you at a bruising pace. His hands grip your hips, his nails digging in as he clenches his teeth.

“You don’t have to hold back, Law. I’ll take anything you want to give me.”

He struggles to speak through his self control. “I want to enjoy this. I want to take my time.” Another deliberate thrust has you dragging your nails down his back, making him moan in your ear. “I want this to be as good as it can be for you.”

“This is–ahh!–already better than I’d ever dreamed, Law.”

One of his hands moves to your clit, his fingers starting a steady motion. “Not good enough,” he mutters. His lips find your neck, placing open mouthed kisses along its length, his teeth grazing your skin. You feel yourself coming close to cumming again, your voice growing louder, echoing through the room as you babble. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, the words please and more and Law are all you can say, all you can think. There is nothing in the world beyond the feeling of him against you, inside of you, his soft lips and callused hands. 

You expect him to rip away your pleasure again, but when he briefly stills, your babbles turn to sobs anyway. He pulls back to look you in the eye, take in the sight of the tears running down your face, and you can see him soften once again. His hands and hips start moving again immediately as he presses soft kisses against your cheeks, clearing away your tears.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s alright. You’re doing great. I won’t take it from you again, I promise.” His voice is filled with pity. “You’ve been so good, you can take what you want now.” He builds you back up quickly, his hips pressing into yours even faster than before. You can feel yourself about to burst, and you slam your lips into his, moaning into his mouth. The dam finally bursts, and the pleasure nearly blinds you as you clench around him, his hips struggling to keep moving with how tightly your legs are wrapped around his waist. Your orgasm is what finally makes him break, filling you to the brim as his movements stutter.

You bask in the feeling for a moment, both panting and dripping with sweat, his cock rapidly softening inside of you. Your head lolls forward, pressing into his shoulder, and you press a kiss against his sticky skin.

“Was it worth the wait?” He tries to ask the question in a teasing tone, but you can hear the insecurity underneath it.

“It was worth everything and more.” You shift to wrap your arms tighter around him and nuzzle your face into his neck. 

You can feel the rumble of his chest as he chuckles, gathering you up as he slips out of you. “Agreed.” He kisses the side of your head, an action so filled with care it nearly makes you burst into tears again. He tries to lower you onto something, making you pull him closer and whine. “I just need to set you down for a second, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

“No.” You sound like a pouting child, making you cringe, but he laughs fondly anyway.

“Alright. A few more minutes. But I have to clean you up eventually, and then we need to find a place a bit more private to settle in, don’t you think? Or at least somewhere more comfortable.”

You hum quietly, pressing your nose further into him. You can worry about logistics in a few minutes. Right now you just want to bask in his warmth, in this dream turned reality, in the absolute joy of your feelings being reciprocated. “I really didn’t think you liked me,” you mutter sleepily. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

“I could say the same,” he murmurs into your hair.

You laugh. “Shachi and Peng are going to be so smug about this.”

“They are?”

“They’ve been trying to tell me for years, and they don’t get to tell me I told you so very often.”

“They were telling you too?” He laughs. “We could have done this months ago if we’d just believed them.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your eyes starting to slip shut. “You’re worth the wait, though.”

You can hear the smile in his voice as his hand rubs soothing circles on your lower back, luring you further into sleep. “Yeah. So are you.”

Tag List:  @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay 

[mintyjinx]

(Retro & Vintage) Gaming Consoles #1 - PlayStation 1 (PS1) - Updated & Fixed

So, Mr. Procrastination has been squatting with me for a good while now. I have so much CC to upload but for some reason I never get around to it.

I’ll be making a collection of retro/vintage gaming consoles and thought I’d start with a tribute to the Sony Playstation 1, dedicated to my Hubby who grew up playing on the O.G. gaming consoles!

This is a set with a total of 5 items! 1. PlayStation (PS1) Game Console - Decorative 2. PlayStation (PS1) Game Console - Functional (Requires City Living EP) 3. PlayStation (PS1) Controller / Gamepad - Decorative 4.  PlayStation (PS1) Controller / Gamepad - Functional/Override for “Game Console Controller” from City Living EP. (As Shown in the picture below) ⤵️ 5. PlayStation (PS1) Controller / Gamepad - Functional/Override (in Simlish)! (install EITHER the simlish override or the regular override, not both.)

This set also has a few colorful swatches for those of us who are more whimsical 🌼

More Preview Pictures:

All files have been updated as of 2023-11-17. Delete all your old PS1 files and re-download the new ones linked below. Keep in mind that you can only have 1 override file for the controller though. (For more details on what's been changed, read "Updates & Fixes" further down)

Download (SFS) (free)

Updates & Fixes: ✦ Fixed texture & Shadow issues with PS1 Console (Functional), PS1 Controller (Decorative) & PS1 Controller (Override). ✦ Added Simlish swatches to the decorative controller and consoles (both decorative & functional). ✦ Added a new controller override in Simlish.

------------ I also want to give credit to the amazing CC creators who’s items are shown in the preview pictures ⤵️

CREDIT(s): ★ @mechtasims: Y2K Set: Heels, Cyber Girl: TV, Bathroom Set: Lotion, Pluto Set: Table, ★ @grayvixen: Neon Flamingo Sign ★ @savagesimbaby: Sweet & Sexy tattoo ★ @cecesimsxo: Cherry Ombre Nails ★ @joliebean: Ballerina Nails Matte -----------

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You may edit any and all of my meshes. All I ask is to credit me with a link that leads to this page stating that you’ve used my mesh as a base/source etc. For more detailed notes regarding this, click HERE or contact me directly.

[witchcraftandgeekness]

Things we (me) are forgetting about Six of crows, not in order:

• There were rumours that Wylan was caught in an affair with his tutor

• Inej killed rinca moten (the desert lizard) that Matthias claimed he never seen being defeated before. She did it in few seconds too

• Jesper and Nina had chloropellets that they used to put other prisoners to sleep stitched under their skin. And had to cut them out to use them

• Matthias had a buzzcut for whole two books and half; also, half of SoC he had brown hair and brown eyes tailored

• Kaz had lockpicks and bloody explosives swallowed for the entirety of heist, and had to regurgitate them every other hour

• When Nina was young, she wanted to go to Fjerda as an avenging warrior or a spy (foreshadowing, I guess)

• Inej used Kaz's gloves to climb in the incenerator scene

• After learning Inej's real name, Kaz asked if that's what she preferred to be called

•Kaz's pov has shown that he probably had fracture or other injury from when he jumped while carrying Inej in his arms, and it was never mentioned him getting any medical attention. My boy been running this heist like this, AND without his cane for hours

• They blew up the nation's holy magical tree (somehow I keep forgetting this part)

• Matthias gave Kaz an agressive CPR until Nina took over. So his heart probably stopped during heist? (Somebody just give him a vacation or something)

•Nina flirts/ed with Kaz (as he had mentioned himself, she just loves flirting with everybody and everything)

•Inej seems to be the ONLY one in the Dregs without their tattoo

•Matthias labeled Inej as a demon in his head as well, not only Kaz

•Matthias' middle name is Benedik. I think only his and Jesper's second names were revealed (very likely that they are the only ones who have them)

•Kaz gave Matthias the "you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me" talk (like, literally)

•“You can’t spend his money if you’re dead.”

“I’ll acquire expensive habits in the afterlife.”

•Inej thought that Kaz "at least owes me his best imitation of a human being".

•Wylan was standing up to Kaz several times, even at times when others wouldn't (like right after the Oomen incident)

•Matthias has the coolest nicknames for everybody in general

•Kaz kinda thinks more of Inej than others do? Has more faith in her and how strong she is, if you will

•Kaz went back for the Black Tips after Inej was injured and "there was enough blood to paint a barn red" (reminder that he still has a fracture after running with her in his hands and jumping off great heightswhile carrying her)

•Tolya was mentioned in SoC ("There’s a Heartrender at the Little Palace who can recite epic poetry for hours. Then you’d wish you had died.”)

•Matthias thanked Inej personally for being the reason they made it out of the harbor alive (that's right, everybody must respect Inej)

•Kaz wants reassurance that Inej believes in him once in a while

•Everybody feels kinda good about sharing secrets with Kaz cuz he's Dirtyhands and he wouldn't judge anything

•Kaz and Inej have a series of silent signals?

•Kaz said "You don't want a look at what's inside my head, Nina dear" while wearing fucking dumb goggles

•Inej is the only sacred thing in Kaz's life, and she made him feel like a boy still believing in existence of magic

[ceesimz]

Angel

What happens when the team finds out about your relationship? (Autistic reader x Barça Femení)

As always, the other parts of Reverie can be found here. This one gets a bit deep.

One thing you had come to learn about your new team was that they never shied away from gossip. Like most people, they did have their limits, but if it was gossip within the team, especially about any possible relationships, well… they simply couldn't be stopped.

You indulged in it of course, you're only human after all, you just hadn't prepared yourself for the moment that the topic was your love life. And it seemed that the team didn’t really take into account how you would feel about it all. 

If there was one thing that would send you into some kind of meltdown, it was people talking about you without you knowing. That was something that had plagued you as a teenager, and as ridiculous as it may seem to others, it was something that still sent you spiralling endlessly. All you wanted was to be liked and to fit in, whenever those things seemed at risk, it had you scurrying back into your shell and headfirst into a deep pit of anxiety. 

It had been a matter of weeks since you and Alexia got together, and an even shorter amount of time since you had confessed your love to each other, but living in the content bubble of privacy was everything you needed and more. A part of you loved the thrill of sneaking around, like how you both drive separately to and from training only to end up at the other's apartment afterwards, and how you both hide away in the corners of any cafés you come across. 

But the thing is, it seemed the two of you weren't quite as discreet as you thought. 

The morning it all came falling down was the same as any other day; you woke up in your bed with Alexia asleep on the other side of you, facing away as the sun shone into the room and lit up the tattoos on her back like an art display. Not long after you looked over at her did a smile appear, and you couldn’t resist shuffling up behind her and wrapping yourself around her body to nestle into her. Your alarm hadn’t gone off yet and the sun wasn’t fully up, meaning there was more than enough time to enjoy each other’s company before the day that faced you began. Mornings were your favourite, and if Alexia thought she was a morning person before you, you had come along and totally trumped her in that. The world was yours in the early hours of the day, it was peaceful and serene without the interruptions of life as the birds sang and the dew covered the grass. 

Apparently that particular morning was the calm before the storm. 

Alexia drove the pair of you to training, arriving earlier than the rest of the squad and going your separate ways once in the building, Alexia with some media commitments and you with a physio session for a slight knock picked up in the game a few days prior. Nobody else had shown up yet and they wouldn’t for some time, so the possibility that someone might pick up on something was far from your minds.

Apart from the one car parked up outside and the weirdly frequent amount of time spent together and the obvious love in each other’s eyes, there were no signs at all. Zero.

Perhaps you weren’t the only oblivious one in the relationship.

“-there is something going on, Mapi.” Jana smirked as she walked into the building alongside the older defender whilst Ingrid followed behind.

“There is nothing! Don’t ask me.” Mapi put on that classic confused look on her face and paired it with a shrug, desperately holding back a grin that she knew Ingrid would scold her for.

“Everybody can see the way Ale looks at her, and how she looks at Ale. I made a bet with Keira, please.” Jana continued, glancing around to make sure the coast was clear, which it was, before turning to Mapi again with a pleading look on her face.

“Jana.” Ingrid warned lightly, more than aware of the conversations that have been had by most of the team but way too concerned with how you'd react to it all. She assumed her teammates would have more sense about doing this about you, but apparently not.

“Come on, Mapi. Just shake your head or something, someone like you can’t keep a secret. And it’ll come out eventually so why not just say it now.” Jana had her arms wrapped around Mapi’s arms, tugging every so often to persuade her. 

“María, don't. Jana, there is nothing going on. Let them be.” The Norwegian gave her final warning, quite frankly tired of the topic and annoyed with her teammates' behaviour. 

It wasn’t only how Jana was acting now, it was the fact the majority of the team had been speculating for some time already, and though she had witnessed their nosiness before, this time around she was far from happy about it. She wasn’t really one to have so much intrigue in her teammates’ lives, she believed if they wanted to talk about it then they would, so there was no use in indulging in meaningless gossip that really had no benefits for anyone apart from satisfying the curiosity of people that had no business being interested anyway. That, added onto the fact she knew you would probably have some kind of meltdown if you overheard anything, meant she was sick to death of others’ careless actions.

However, by defending you, she had only made it worse.

“Oh, so there is something going on? That’s why Mapi isn’t talking?” Jana’s face lit up and Ingrid was instantly filled with dread from head to toe. Before she could stop the younger girl, she was already darting off to her other friends to share the new information. And that’s where the situation reached its peak.

You were more than fine, living blissfully unaware throughout the morning. Alexia was at your side, training was fun and light that day, and you had woken up feeling especially good that morning. Not much could stop you. The exclusion to that was of course the whole team gossipping about not only you, but Alexia too.

“You’re such a liar! I didn’t cheat, you’re the one that dropped your cards everywhere. My eyes were already looking in that direction, it just so happened to be that that’s where your cards landed.” You argued back at Alexia, stuck in a heated debate about how you had apparently cheated at a game of cards with her family the previous night. The blonde tutted in disagreement and gave you a light shove, suppressing a smile at the laugh you responded with.

“Already at the family game nights, huh?” Patri came up alongside you and smirked as her eyebrows raised, before she was quickly tugged away by Claudia, leaving you confused.

“What did she mean by that?” You turned to Alexia to see if she had any better understanding, only to find what looked like a resigned and slightly panicked expression on her face. “Ale?”

“Nothing, cariño, she is just teasing. Forget about it.” Her arm wrapped around your shoulder briefly as she gave you a quick reassuring hug, but she pulled away too soon to make you feel at ease. 

What she wasn’t clueing you in on was the seed of worry that Patri had just planted. Like Ingrid, Alexia also knew how you would react to the team finding out about the relationship before you were ready. To make matters worse, she had no idea what she could do to prevent the secret being revealed because it seemed like the damage had already been done. Sure, she was the captain, but that title means nothing when it comes to her personal life which had already been invaded by the people she thought knew better. There was nothing left to do but watch it all come falling down before her.

Despite the odd teasing remark from Patri, you were still in a fairly great mood. The same couldn’t be said for Ingrid and Alexia who sat at your table for lunch. It wasn’t often that you stayed for lunch, and you couldn’t have chosen a more unfortunate day to stay. Your two favourite people had pensive looks on their faces that stuck for the majority of lunch, putting you a little on edge throughout. 

Ultimately, though, secrets had to come to light at some point. You never planned for it to happen in the way it did. 

“Does the happy couple want to join us for dinner later?” Marta, of all people, asked with a grin as her hands landed on yours and Alexia’s shoulders as she came to stand behind you both.

“Marta!” Ingrid scolded immediately, but it was too late. 

“What? Everybody knows that Ale is wrapped around her finger. Didn’t take long, no?” She smirked down at you, taking no notice of the fact you had completely frozen.

Both Ingrid and Alexia rattled off arguments, trying their best to do damage control, though to no avail. The warning signs of an internalised meltdown were already taking over and shutting down your nervous system – the type of meltdown you knew was coming was sometimes the most exhausting type. Masking on its own took all of your energy, but masking an entire meltdown was a whole different thing. 

You weren’t safe here. There were eyes all around, people you weren’t too familiar with, and nothing in this room, in fact in the whole building, could help you regulate yourself. In only a matter of minutes, everything around you turned into a trigger.

Marta’s hand still sat on your shoulder. Your skin crawled with the sensation of at least thirty pairs of eyes on you. With each second that passed by, the noise of the cafeteria grew louder in your ears even though in reality it only quietened when people realised what was happening. 

Your hands trembled intensely under the table, you were sure Marta would be able to feel your entire body shaking, and your breathing quickened until hardly any oxygen was getting to your lungs. It was at that point where the intrusive thoughts kicked in. 

The cherry on top of the cake in this scenario too is that it wasn’t just about you, it was about Alexia too. So not only were you drowning in anxiety and fear and shame, you couldn’t cope with the guilt that came at the fact you had dragged Alexia into all this. 

Was now the time Alexia realised she could be with someone much better than you, now that the relationship was no longer secret? Now that you and all that was wrong with you wasn’t hidden behind apartment walls and cafe doors, would she be too embarrassed by you to stay? What would your teammates think? You hadn’t even been here for a full season yet, and you had already claimed their captain for yourself. 

Those were the kinds of things swirling around your mind as the world carried on around you, but they were merely a drop in the ocean and definitely not the worst of them. Some were unimaginable, to the point where if any allistic person were to ask what went through your mind during a meltdown, they would be horrified by the things they would hear. You wouldn’t wish a meltdown of any kind upon your worst enemy.

It was too much to handle. Too many eyes, too many opinions in one room, too many ways to be perceived. The only realistic option was leaving. 

The sound of your chair scraping against the floor as you abruptly stood up cut through the tension in the room, bringing everyone to a sudden silence as they watched you leave the room as quickly as possible without it being classed as running away. You had no idea where to go, but your legs were taking you anyway, and at that moment it felt like you were watching yourself in third person. You were in your body, but you weren’t present. Your mind was still back in that cafeteria, thinking and thinking over and over again, stuck in the fear of the fact you had just ruined the life you had built for yourself whilst you fully succumbed to the meltdown clawing its way into your body.

All you wanted to do was go home, to have the measly comfort of falling apart in the four walls of your flat, where you had the safety net of the fact that nobody was around to walk in on you. Instead, you had to settle for a place that still didn’t feel safe and never would. 

Somewhere in your subconscious you made the decision to find a spot away from everyone, ending up in a small, empty and unclaimed office. As always, your feet took you straight to the corner of the room furthest from the door, slumping down against the wall and sliding until you were sat on the floor. Your legs came up so that your knees were pressed tightly against your chest, further emphasised by the pressure your arms gave when they wrapped around your legs. It helped, the pressure your own embrace provided, but it was nowhere near enough to calm you down to a point where you could put a stop to everything happening inside of you.

There, in the safest environment you could find, you accepted the impending implosion, and let it wholly consume you. It wasn’t a meltdown filled with anger and frustration, the type that led to a whirlwind of destruction, but one that had your eyes flooding and overflowing with tears that would inevitably lead to a nasty migraine afterwards. But in that moment, there was no after. A meltdown came with the sense that the world was ending, that there wasn’t a life you could lead after it that wasn’t ruled by the intrusive thoughts which ruthlessly ran rampant through your mind becoming a reality. That really would be world-ending. 

For some time, you weren’t convinced you were breathing. Your lungs felt so constricted by the heaviness that weighed upon your chest that you weren’t sure you could stay conscious. There was ringing in your ears that deafened you almost, adding to how completely unaware you were of your surroundings. Nausea churned in your stomach, though you weren’t in the state of mind to be able to recognise if that was a result of the anxiety overwhelming you or the constant rocking back and forth you were doing. 

In fact, you were so oblivious, you didn’t notice the door swing open, nor did you hear the figure at the door shout down the hallway outside the room to announce you had been found. It was only when gentle hands lifted your head where it rested against your knees that you realised someone was in front of you. And who else would it be than Ingrid.

“Hey, snuppa.” The defender smiled sadly, hating how your face was completely void of emotion apart from the redness to your eyes and the tears still falling continuously down your cheeks.

It was in moments like this where Ingrid realised, no matter how much she tried, she will never fully understand the extent of the struggles you have. As she looked at you,  she saw that your face was empty, anyone who didn’t know would think you were just spaced out or something, but Ingrid knew there was a deadly storm kicking off in your mind. A storm whose weapons of choice were the tears streaming from your hauntingly blank eyes, and the sharp flashes of vicious words followed by the darkest clouds of shame and inadequacy. Nobody else would understand the pain of it, and it killed the defender that she couldn’t do a thing about that.

“I’m so sorry that happened in there. They shouldn’t have acted like that, not without coming to you first. They just… weren’t thinking.” 

Why didn’t they think about me?

“I should have made a better effort in getting them to stop talking about it.”

You knew? Why didn’t you make a better effort?

“They didn’t mean anything bad by it, it’s just them being clowns, you know what they’re like.”

What if they did mean something bad by it?

“Alexia is worried about you.”

I just want to go home.

“Home.” You whispered, shrinking back into yourself and away from the hands that were still on your cheeks. You hastily brushed away the remaining tears with shaking thumbs, though they were instantly replaced by new ones that didn’t hesitate to fall.

“I can take you home, that’s okay.” 

The person that helped you stand then, it wasn’t Ingrid. It was just a body, a face you didn’t recognise in your mid-meltdown daze. There was no longer a functioning world outside the confines of your beaten mind, your senses were completely overwhelmed to the point they no longer worked. An arm was wrapped around your waist as you were led to the car park, but all you could focus on was each step you took. Moving was difficult, so you poured all your remaining energy into making sure your legs could carry you to the car at least. 

Whether people watched you on the way to Ingrid’s car or not, you were passed the point of caring. The merciless thoughts weren’t tiring anytime soon but they had exhausted you, beating you down until you were completely mindless. They had prepared you for your team to hate you, so that was old news by the time you were being guided down the halls and no doubt past their curious stares. 

All of your belongings were left back in the changing rooms, including your phone and your change of clothes and everything else. Thankfully Ingrid was wise enough to know you didn’t care about any of those things now, all you wanted to do was go home, fall into bed, and never leave again.

That’s exactly what you did. The time walked by before you as you watched the minutes tick by on the digital clock on your bedside table. At some point, Ingrid had peaked her head in to check on you and Mapi had come along to drop off your things whilst an anxious Alexia waited in her car in case you wanted her.

You didn’t.

You couldn’t face her right now, probably not for the rest of the day either. It was easier to be the rejecter rather than the rejected. Too often were you the one going through all the pain that came with rejection, and experiencing it at the hands of Alexia might just end it all for you.

Figuring out where to go from here was something that would have to wait a while. Hours, days, weeks, you weren’t sure. It had been a tough day, the toughest in a while. Your last meltdown had been a destructive one – a performance that you deemed bad in a match you put way too much pressure on yourself for was enough reason to get so wildly angry, you had no choice but to act out. That was in the privacy of your own home though, not in a public setting, at work no less. The repercussions of it all were something you didn’t want to face.

So you stayed in bed. For hours, you didn’t move a muscle. The duvet covered you up to your shoulders and the scent of Alexia lingered on the fabric of the sheets, the most comforting mix of her perfume and the conditioner she used when showering the night before. And by the time the sun set, it felt like your bones had sunk into the mattress, as if you’d found yourself in quicksand or had fallen into concrete. There was no way you could make it out if you tried. 

Nothing, apart from being thousands of miles away from the situation you found yourself in, could entice you to move. 

—

“Have you heard from her yet?” Alexia asked desperately for perhaps the third time in ten minutes. 

“No, Ale.” Mapi sighed from the kitchen area. 

Ingrid and Mapi had decided to let Alexia stay with them, knowing that the older girl was probably going crazy as a result of her anxiety. The Norwegian was somewhat familiar with how these things go for you, your alone time to try and regulate was an important step of getting back to being your normal self. However, she also knew that being alone could sometimes make it worse. She was stuck in between those two possibilities, wondering when the right time to step in was. It just didn’t help when Alexia was pacing around the apartment or tapping her foot against the floor as she sat on the couch.

Mapi was making dinner for the three of them, whilst also ensuring there was an extra portion for you if you wanted to eat at any point that evening. They were all worried to some degree, but Alexia’s concern had reached new heights. Last time this happened to you, you were alone for the whole night with no one to comfort you, and that thought made her sick. All she wanted to do was see you at least, then from there she could figure out what to do to help. Yet, she was still inexperienced, so the only thing she trusted herself to do was to listen to Ingrid, the one who had been around for almost eleven years longer than she had. Her patience was wearing thin, however.

“I just want to see her, I-”

“Alexia, listen to me.” Ingrid dropped the laundry she was folding and headed over to where Alexia was. She sat down on the coffee table in front of her captain and sighed just like her girlfriend had done a moment ago. “In her mind, you’re probably the last person she wants to see right now.”

“But why! I don’t g-”

“Listen.” Ingrid said sternly, silencing the blonde. “I know you are worried, scared, whatever. We all are. But we have to put our emotions aside and wait for her. Meltdowns aren’t something that happen to you, they happen to her, so think about that for a second. She needs the time alone to regulate herself again, to allow her body to rest. It might not have looked extreme, but trust me when I say it was. Her own mind was attacking her but because she was in public, she forced it down and hid it. It’s so intense, when that happens, it’s not just a mental thing but a physical thing too. You have to remember that what she experiences is so different to anything we will ever know, so everything from this point on has to be on her terms. Okay?”

No matter what anyone said to her in that moment, Alexia knew she wouldn’t feel at all at ease until she saw you. But Ingrid’s words did help, even if it was only the tiniest bit. It settled her because most of all she trusted you. 

Once in the past, you had told her that your meltdowns were something that made you feel so out of control that you’d do anything to regain it back, to have some sense of the world again. Even if that meant extreme measures. That was the young, scared version of you though, you had told her. As an adult now, you were a lot… safer in your recovery methods. And she trusted you, she did, she just couldn’t help but feel sickeningly worried. Nobody could really blame her, it wasn’t a comforting thought to know she was in the same building as you, and yet there wasn’t a thing she could do other than wait it out.

“I… I love her though.” She knew her arguments were futile, but it felt better than sitting there and doing nothing.

“You love her?” Mapi asked in disbelief, followed by a tut from Ingrid.

“I love her. She knows that, right?” The blonde turned to the woman in front of her with a desperate look on her eyes.

“She does. She does, Alexia, and I know for a fact that she does.” Ingrid placed a hand on Alexia’s bouncing knee and squeezed it reassuringly; she understood how her captain was feeling, she’d been in her place plenty of times before. 

“I just want to take it all from her so she can feel better, so she knows I love her and I don’t blame her for today.” Alexia mumbled, fidgeting with the drawstring of her training shorts that she still hadn't changed out of. 

“I know. It's hard, but these are the times where she needs us by her side the most.” Ingrid stated quietly, hoping Alexia understood the gravity of her words.

“Forever, Ingrid, I will be by her side forever. I swear it.” Her eyes had gone wide and her shoulders had lifted up into a shrug to emphasise her promise. Ingrid didn't doubt her for a second.

As much as she tried to resist, as the evening dragged on, Ingrid’s patience started to wear away. Her concern was beginning to override her adamance to give you the space she thought you needed. She could tell, as she glanced around the quiet room save for the scraping of cutlery against ceramic, that Alexia and Mapi felt the same way. 

Alexia hardly moved from her spot in the corner of the sofa, staring out of the window as her leg bounced anxiously. Mapi didn’t know what to do with herself, because even though she wouldn’t really play a major part in helping you come down from the state you were in, bar a few terrible jokes here and there, her world fell off-kilt knowing you were enduring such an awful time. You weren’t as close with her as you were with Alexia and Ingrid, obviously, but she still saw you as such an important figure in her life that nothing was the same without you. She loved your near constant joy, you were quite possibly the happiest person she’d met, and that was a big statement coming from someone like her. Your glee was infectious, and she was certain that everybody felt the same kind of unease when you weren’t yourself.

The silence throughout the apartment that settled after dinner was so discomforting that waiting simply wasn’t cutting it anymore. Almost as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, they all hit their limit. It had been hours since anyone had seen or heard from you and waiting simply wasn’t cutting it anymore. No one was brave enough to say it though. If they all marched up to your apartment, god only knows what reaction you would have. Nobody wanted to be the person that broke your trust. 

It was Alexia that decided to take that risk. 

“What if I went and checked on her?” She broke the silence and glanced around nervously at the other two, who then looked at each apprehensively. “If she kicks me out, I will leave. But I cannot sit here and do nothing any longer. It’s killing me.”

A few thoughtful moments passed by, before Ingrid groaned quietly and buried her face into her hands. At that, Mapi pursed her lips and answered for her.

“I think there is nothing else we can do but try.” The shorter defender answered diplomatically, nodding as she spoke. “The spare key is on Ingrid’s keys.”

“Ingrid?” Alexia asked. It was important to her that she had Ingrid’s trust as the Norwegian had dealt with this countless times over the past decade.

“Yes. Go. Please be patient with her.” She pleaded in a fearful voice. At that, the Barcelona captain jumped up from her seat and went to leave instantly. 

In the weirdest way, it was hard for Ingrid to hand over this responsibility. Other than Mapi, you were the most important person in her life. She had been the person you go to for nearly eleven years – she had seen you at your worst and recently she’d seen you at your best. But with the introduction of Alexia into your life, as overjoyed as she was for you, it came with a strange sense of loss. Rationally she knew you were going nowhere of course, and yet she mostly felt… sad. It felt a little pathetic to her, that she thought of it like that, she just couldn’t help it. Mapi sensed her girlfriend’s feelings and moved to sit by her side immediately to comfort her, meanwhile Alexia couldn’t get out of the door quick enough.

Instead of taking the elevator, Alexia ran straight to the stairs and made her way up to your floor in mere seconds. The keys rattled in her hands as she headed to your apartment, and her hands shook as she tried to find the right key to unlock your door. When she missed the keyhole a couple times, she took a deep breath to calm herself and rolled her shoulders a couple times. In that split second, she knew, had you been there, you would have laughed at the slightly dramatic scene. As odd as that may seem, that little thought calmed her anxiety the tiniest bit, and with a final breath out, she unlocked the door.

Unsurprisingly, the lights were off in the apartment and the curtains were drawn, your way of blocking the world out. There wasn’t a sound, and her footsteps bounced off the walls as she walked through the flat until she reached your bedroom door. She knocked on quietly, trying not to disturb the apparent peace.

“It is just me, Alexia. May I come in, engel?” 

Exactly as she expected, she got no response. That was better than getting kicked out, she supposed.

“I’m coming in, okay?”

She opened the door and walked in on a scene that wasn’t so unfamiliar anymore, and she figured she best get used to it anyway if she planned on sticking around. You were on your side, facing away from the door, like you were when Ingrid had been the one to check on you the last time this happened. Even as she padded over to where you lay, she got no reaction. It wasn’t until she cautiously sat on the carpet, her back against the bedside drawers with her head turned towards you, that she confirmed you weren’t asleep. 

Once her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see you were awake and staring absentmindedly straight ahead, through her even. Last time, she didn’t see this part of you. She only saw the by-product of Ingrid’s support and love. This was something that sent chills through her, not out of fear or intimidation or whatever, but because of the overload of emotions she felt at the sight. Never in her life had she felt such pain for someone else.

“Hi, amor.” She whispered. Truthfully, she had no idea what to do, or where to start. Rather foolishly, she had underestimated the whole thing. “Um… I didn’t want to leave you on your own any longer. I wanted to come check on you.” 

Normally, with everything Alexia did in her life, she had the confidence in knowing what she was doing and exactly how she was going to do it. This situation was something entirely different. But, if she was going to learn to do better for you when things like this happened, there was nothing she would rather do in this scenario than try. 

“Ingrid told me once that sometimes just sitting with you helps with the thoughts you have, so… I will wait here as long as you want me to. I love you.” 

She didn’t want to overwhelm you, but at the same time she couldn’t bear taking her eyes off of you. Just being by your side had eased some of her anxiety. She hoped it did the same for you.

“Today was a bad day, but that’s okay. Bad days are okay. You can come back from them. I remember you telling me that when this happens, it feels like the world is ending. I know I can’t stop your meltdowns but I will always be here to remind you that I love you more than anyone else I have ever met. And that people in your life adore you so much that nothing could change that. You are just you, all the time, and that might be my favourite thing in the world.”

The midfielder found herself rambling, which wasn’t something she did very often at all, but the words flowed continuously. Whether you could hear her or were taking anything she said on board, she didn’t mind. 

Fortunately, you could hear her, and you were taking everything she said and holding onto it for dear life. With each word she spoke, you felt yourself coming back more and more. Those voices had been shut out by Alexia’s tentative rambling. The tears that you knew would drop any second were the first sign of you becoming somewhat lucid again. 

“I am not angry or upset with you. Today wasn’t your fault. Not the outing, not the teasing, not the meltdown. You were just a passenger in it all, yet you got the worst of it. You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”

“No.” Your voice was hoarse and hardly there when you spoke, and even though it was a short single syllable you uttered, it still cracked with emotion.

Alexia almost flinched at that, having not expected it at all.

“Hm?” She hummed, shuffling a little closer to the bed if that was at all possible.

“No sorrys.” You murmured. Alexia frowned, and she itched to reach out and stroke through your hair or cup your cheek or do anything to comfort you.

“Okay.” She nodded, unsure of what else to do. To scratch that itch from a moment ago, she brought her legs up and crossed her arms over her knees, a few fingertips of one hand outstretched to rest on the edge of the bed. “I… I don’t want you to feel guilty. I think, in the end, maybe it was only a matter of time before everyone found out about us. They shouldn’t have acted so nonchalantly about it, but I also don’t think we hid it too well.”

“You don’t have to be here.” You completely ignored what she had said, too focused on your shame instead. Shame that stemmed from the events back at the cafeteria, at not only having a meltdown which brought those feelings on anyway, but having one in front of your whole club. This one felt so much more complex than any others you’d had in a while.

Alexia’s resolve broke then – one of her hands cautiously reached under the duvet to find the hand of yours that wasn’t resting underneath your head. She found it, balled up tightly against your chest, and with both of her hands now, she unclenched it and covered it, gently bringing it to her mouth so she could press repetitive, soft kisses against your skin.

“I don't have to but I want to. I need to, for myself, because you are my girlfriend and I need to make sure you are okay. I love you no matter how you feel, and even if me being here doesn't make you feel much better, I'm just glad I’m here.”

Something about that struck a nerve. Before you knew it, those brewing tears made themselves known as they fell steadily. Alexia dropped your hand, which caused a brief moment of panic for you, until she rose to her knees and her hands landed delicately on your face instead. Her lips brushed against every tear that fell, kissing each one before leaning her forehead against yours.

“I love you. I don’t want you to ever doubt that.” She whispered, because some part of her knew that it was her portrayal of her adoration that had finally cracked you. 

It was exactly that. No matter how many times it was said, there was just some embedded insecurity within you that couldn’t accept it when you didn’t love yourself like this. Perhaps it would stay with you for life, but that didn’t seem so horrifying if Alexia reacted like this everytime the worst part of yourself was so clearly on show.

“You do make me feel better.” You manage to choke out in the midst of your sobs. 

Alexia couldn’t bear the feeling of not having you in her arms whilst you were crying so heavily, so she moved away only for a second before you felt the bed dip behind you. Then, she was gently urging you to roll over, which you did immediately. Her arms engulfed you entirely, and the pressure from her hug was so much more comforting than that of yours earlier in that heartless office. 

She let you get it all out, even if it did take a while, but even when your sobs had subsided, she didn’t move a muscle. For that, you were grateful. Being wrapped up and held tightly by her, your face buried in her chest, was so much better than laying on your own with nothing but the intrusions in your mind.

And when your thoughts cleared, you gained an ounce of clarity again. Neither of you spoke, but there had been enough emotions in the day that there wasn’t any need for them. There was just one thing that you had realised, the brightest silver lining: Alexia loved you. Truly and wholeheartedly, even if you didn’t understand it. Sure, she had said it in the past and shown it in various ways, though none of those occasions could ever live up to this one.

This one was her accepting the worst part of yourself. This was her sticking by you when you knew it was the hardest time to stay. This was it.

Having your relationship exposed might have seemed like the end of the world at the time, and though that thought hadn’t completely left yet, it had given way for two much better realistions. Firstly, Alexia loved you. And secondly, apparently you can’t mask love.

“It really was quite obvious, wasn’t it?” You would grimace the next morning when the pair of you ate breakfast in bed together. Your girlfriend, the woman that loved you, turned to you with an equally pinched face and you stared at each other for a few moments, until you broke out into laughter about it all.

That was the thing with Alexia – she made it all brighter and so, so much easier.

—

because what else do autistic people struggle with than the opinions of others 🫠 writing about a meltdown is hardddd so this took a lot for me to write, it's more than just writing anxiety when it comes to posting this one. it's depicting the part of myself i hate most. it's an unexplainable, awful awful experience but anyway i hope my words did it justice, i'm not sure about it but i hope you liked the story regardless 🫶🏼🧡

[thecoochiefairy]

𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞

━━ 𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑒𝑠 .ᐟ toji.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 12k word count. boxer toji, third person omniscient pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, angry sex, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, daddy kink, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, a lil degrading?, fingering, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, aggressive toji, lil bit of sweet toji, physical violence, talks of body image issues, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑒 ; 𝑙𝑖𝑙 𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑛𝑒

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ if you didn’t see it already, there is a trigger warning for talks of body/self image issues! i’m a girlie that deals with a lot of that, so this was a bit heartfelt for me. this is dedicated to any of my girls/gay’s/they’s that feel down about themselves! you’re all perfect 🫶🏽love your body + your body will love you back! enjoy!

OF COURSE SHE FUCKING WOULD. 

Blood drips down his chin, eyes shooting over at the mirror as his scar is now reopened, ripping between his bottom and top lip. His anger seeped through his face in a way it’d never shown before, staring back at the woman he’d kill for. They had their ups and downs—this definitely had to be their worst fight. 

Their now five year relationship blossomed in an uncanny place—The gym, an environment where people didn’t expect to be approached or distracted from their routine. He didn’t mean to bother her, he just couldn’t help it.

She stood at the Smith’s machine, blowing out a breath as she gripped the bar that looked to hold a weight of forty-five on each side. He watched her. Her skin is a warm toffee complexion, scrunchie holding her onyx curls, tendrils falling around her face that’s painted with thousands of freckles. Full dark eyebrows furrow lowly, baby pink lips sinking under her bone straight teeth. Her brown eyes stare out of focus, long lashes curling atop of her pupils. She was mesmerizing. 

She was more curvy than the women he usually went for. Even from under the sweater she wore, her full breast, large hips and pudgy stomach, her ass— god, he couldn’t get enough of her, and he didn’t even know this woman’s name. She seems frustrated. She twists her body under the bar as she squats, taking a deep breath as she goes to lift it up, her arms trembling. It causes her to quickly drop the bar back in place, a roll coming to her eyes.

“It’s better to train muscles when they’re at failure,” Is the first thing he says to her. 

Her eyes follow up to him. She nearly trips over the bench beneath the machine as she takes in this man. He stands in front of her, long sleeve black compression shirt pulled at his elbows that showcase a couple of tattoos on his muscular arms. His dark hair falls along his eyebrows as it seems he’d been sweating. Scarily handsome features, strong jaw, deep eyes with a confident aura she wasn’t used to. This man was fine, holy fuck, she thought. 

“Excuse me?” She stutters.

“I’m tryna’ be a boxer, so I have to sustain muscle in order to stay in my weight class. Fatigue means muscle activation. So… say you’re doing a set of ten squats, by the fourth or fifth squat you’re tired as fuck,” he talks, her eyes only blinking in response, “Any squat after that is typically the ones that are increasing your muscles.”

Her eyebrows only raise. He then chuckles as he places his hand behind his neck, “My fault, I just…needed a reason to come talk to you.”

“To me?” She questions, her lashes falling over her cheeks.

“You, doll,” He chuckles, her eyes falling to the silver ball along his tongue as his mouth slightly opens. She wants to gulp. 

“What’s your name?” He then asks.

She crosses her arms over her chest as she asks, “Why you’ wanna know? You tryna’ get in my pants or something?”

That makes him laugh. He shakes his head as he speaks, “Five minutes of talking to you and your ass is already being stubborn. That's cool, I like that.”

“It’s Sonali,” she then replies, “Pronounced Sah—nah—lee, not So—nah—lee, I hate when people say my name wrong.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I wanna say your name a thousand times.”

“Damn. You don’t hold back, do you?” She tilts her head. 

“I want you,” he states flatly. 

“You’ manifesting that or something?”

“It’s a fuckin’ promise.”

And it was. She never had a man so affectionate, thoughtful—good as fuck in bed— it was the first time she’d experienced an authentic love. She could admit, the first two years were rough. Mostly from her own overthinking. Anytime they were out in public and the eyes of other women fell upon him, she gripped herself tighter around his arm. She didn’t want to be the jealous type, but as these girls continued to throw themselves at him, it was like she didn’t exist. Was she not good enough? Pretty enough? Skinny enough? 

She eyed every single person in the gym. Everyone's body was different, but the ones that got the most attention were the standard preference of beauty nowadays. Slim, able to go into a store and fit a piece of clothing in the first try. No problems in the world. Call her dramatic, call her apathetic of even the “perfect” people’s issues. Maybe if she was perfect, she’d have less problems than her own. 

There were so many times Toji caught her staring at herself in the mirror, noticing she would turn away from it when she undressed. As many times as he’d purposely fucked her in front of it, nothing changed. But he knew that it wasn’t his call to make her confident within herself. He just wished she knew how perfect she was. 

He could feel himself straying away from Sonali, a particular type of anger building within her body that only increased the closer he tried to get to her. Anytime a woman tried to talk to him, she was mad. When he suggested that she wear more clothes that didn’t dishevel her figure, she was even more mad. He didn’t understand what he was doing wrong, only wanting her to feel as beautiful as she was. Nothing worked. Yet through all of it, he was always so patient with her, never becoming angry or ever raising his voice to her. Sonali’s own self destruction almost caused them to break up—and then, her father had passed away.

Sonali’s life had fallen apart. It was just as tough for Toji, coming to learn that her father owned a boxing gym in the city, sparring and bonding with a man that seemed perfect in health. He watched his girlfriend spar aggressively with her father, giggling like a little girl as she did so. It made him smile to see that he was the one person that could rid all that attitude. When he died, nobody knew he was sick. Not even Sonali— his death was a shock to their entire family. But with Toji there for her, all of her pain seemed easier to manage. He loved her no matter how angry she was. In general, or at him. The more she pushed away, the more he pulled forward. She cried in his arms for nights at a time, wishing she hadn’t lost her father. Wishing she could be the confident woman he raised her to be. Wishing everything wasn’t so damn difficult. 

That anger never subsided, grief turning to rage very quickly. It all mushed into one emotion when a random stranger verbally attacked her, calling her a racial slur and spitting at her. That was her final straw. She lunged forward as she attacked this woman, ripping the frail blonde hair from her scalp, punching her with a strength of almost two men. When Toji pulled her away, the cops captured her next, dragging her out in a chaotic scene. 

Once again, there Toji was. Right behind her in court, nervously listening in as the judge explained her assault charges. The woman now had a busted artery in her face, paired with a ruptured eardrum that caused her to go completely deaf on her left side. The charges were thankfully dropped due to witnesses explaining she was only in defense of herself due to discrimination, plus her record being completely clean. That situation proved to Sonali that she wanted to change for the better. Mentally, physically, emotionally, even if that meant some self reflecting she wasn’t ready to face.

“I think you’re perfect the way you are, baby. But if you wanna change, we can work towards that, too,” Toji’s deep voice comes in her ears that same night, cleaning the blood from beneath her fingers, staring in her face as frustrated tears drop from her eyes. 

“We can start by finding a place to put all of that anger. Imma’ put you in the ring with me, I’d never need a mouth guard again,” He teases, causing her to softly giggle as he continues, “You got a mean ass left hook. You learned that from your father.”

“Yeah. Taught me a few things, although most of my skills came from petty street fights” she mutters. 

“I get that, you need technique. I was damn near enamored with all the Rocky films. Even had a punching bag in my bedroom,” he chuckles.

“You need technique. I can show you,” she suggests.

“Me?”

“You’re quick, but you lack the repetition of catching your opponent off guard. That’s how you win. Relax them into thinking they have that negative space to hit you, then swing where they least expect it,” she shrugs.

“Teach me some shit, then.”

“I will.”

In those three years, Sonali faced all the issues she felt she withheld, having a support system behind her that had truly changed her for the better. Her patience, temper, eating habits, sleeping schedule. She felt like a new her. A better her. Toji saw her progress as well, falling more in love every single day—he just had to ask for her hand in marriage. 

Here they were now, Sonali giving co-ownership of her father’s boxing gym to Toji, allowing him to reopen the business for other local boxers. He was easily recognized, known to never lose a match, knocking someone out in less than five minutes. She wasn’t used to seeing him have a somewhat celebrity status, but it made her happy that she could be beside him for this new time in their relationship. Just like she saw changes in him, he definitely saw changes within her.

“C’mon, Fushiguro.”

He heard his manager's voice within his ear. Shiu leaned  against the rope of the ring where Toji stood inside, across from another man as they continued to spar. This was his usual routine on a regular day, constantly upping his skills to prepare for his next match. 

“You’ distracted or something?” The man across from him asked, smiling in an almost taunting manner. 

“Yeah. I’m bored, you hit like a bitch.” 

“Show me some shit then!” The man laughed, hovering the gloves over his face, arms out in a protective position. 

‘I BE DAMNED’  by Comethazine continues to play along the speakers in the ceiling. Toji remained where he was, hands mimicking the protection stance as he stared at his opponent. He stepped back, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet with narrowed eyes. He studied his movement like a test. Just as the man was about to talk more shit, his glove quickly lashed out and smashed his opponent in the jaw as he flashed forward, knocking him to the floor. Toji harshly taps his gloves together, continuing to bounce on his feet as the man quickly stands up, ignoring the cringe that goes around the ring. 

“Y’all acting like girls,” the coach says, “Fushiguro, you gotta perfect this move you keep dodging. Lead uppercut, straight,” He commands.

“I got it,” he says lowly.

“So do it.” 

Him and the man continue to spar for a bit. From another pair of eyes, his hands smear into the atmosphere, catching every movement the man makes in front of him. He knows all of his techniques. His focus is encapsulated on the gloves in front of him, never noticing as the large bodyguard enters the gym, standing to the side with his hands in front of his abdomen. 

When he does see this, he slows down as he calls, “De’Angelo, where’s Sonali?”

“She’s not here, sir.” De’Angelo replies, no emotion to his face. 

Toji steps back from his opponent as he tilts his head, “I’m not a fucking idiot. Don’t play with me. I can see that, she’s supposed to be with you.”

“She told me to come here, sir,” he explains, “Said she wanted to be by herself.”

“I don’t pay you to fold,” he gruffly reminds, twisting his neck as he cracks the bone, “Did she tell you where she was going?”

“No, sir.” 

He becomes immensely irritated, flaring his nose as he wants to punch the shit out of his bodyguard. He didn’t necessarily need one, but with the status he was beginning to withhold and having a schedule where he couldn’t constantly be with Sonali, he hired De’Angelo for her safety. Her and him had created a friendship essentially, De’Angelo obviously being wrapped up in her sweet nature, allowing himself to be distracted by his job. Shit, he wasn’t the first. 

“Imma’ give you five minutes to find her before I step out this ring.”

The funny thing was, De’Angelo was a man that nearly stood at 6’5, bigger and scarier than most. But Toji was bigger and scarier than any man combined when he was pissed. 

By god’s grace—and to De’Angelo’s luck—Toji’s ears almost hike up like a dog when he hears her feminine voice, involuntarily sultry as she speaks. She appears within the frame of the gym’s door, leaning her head against the phone to her ear as she giggles softly, “Girl. You should’ve seen the cashier's face. Looking at me stupid cause I counted four hundred dollars in one’s. Mind your business, hoe!” 

Another issue Toji was recently beginning to face. With all the evolving Sonali had done in the years of them being together, her beauty had become tenfold. She went from a ten, to a fucking twelve. Her proportions were almost exaggerative. Full breast, sitting upright perfectly under the soft pink gym set she wore, long sleeve and clinging to her curves. Her waist was comparative to a Coke bottle, hips large as if she’d given birth. Thighs toned and supple, ass—soft, full, fat. She was a dime. As she entered the building, her dark curls bounced around her shoulders, pulled out of her face by a hello kitty shaped hair band, one she usually wore if she was doing her makeup or going to the gym. Yet, her face is rid of any cosmetics, freckles spraying along her cheeks and forehead, nose ring shining in the light. She absentmindedly sipped the matching pink cup she had, holding a numerous amount of bags in her other hand. 

Jealousy. A word that he never expected to feel within his own body anytime she was without him, the eyes of other men hungry as they watched her. He knew the kind of beauty his woman withheld, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it when they stared. He was like her guard dog, always hovering over her as she danced in la-la land, giddy and happy as he protected her from the monster that was the reality. The same cat-like eyes that were tattooed on his forearm became slender as she smiled. Her hips twisted as she came in, calling into the phone, “Imma’ call you back. See you later, bookie!” Hanging up as she turned her attention to their bodyguard.

“Hey, D. I got both of us a drink! I got you some lime Kombucha, I know you said your stomach had been hurting. This should help your digestion,” She smiles, handing the soft green drink to him. 

Toji stumbles slightly as he feels his opponent connect his glove into his shoulder, lightly trying to get his attention. As everyone else laughs around him, he glares in return, the laughs quickly dying down as the coach mutters, “Should’ve minked his ass in the face. Let's take a five,” he then states. 

“Fuck you. I’m taking a ten,” Toji replies, removing his gloves and only being left with bandages as he drops down from the ring, coming over to her as she continues to speak to De’Angelo. 

His face goes slightly warm as he takes the drink, “Try it in the car. I’ll be out there in a second, okay? I’ll show you the playlist I made for you,” she talks.

“Yes ma’am,” he ducks away from Toji’s death stare, exiting the building.

His face softens as he now looks down to her. He watches as she drops her bags, placing her cup down on the ground as wraps her arms around his neck. 

“Babydoll,” he rasps, “Where were you?”

“Hi, Daddy,” she smiles happily, “I missed you.”

He narrows his eyes down. She softly rolls her eyes as she speaks, “I just came from the gym, did a little shopping afterwards. Why you’ making a face? Are you upset?”

“‘Nali, baby,” he sighs, bringing his arms around her ass, gripping the skin within his hold, “I don’t like to have to put my foot up D'Angelo's ass everytime I can’t find you with him. Please stop sending him off.”

“Okay, sorry. I just wanted to have a little girl time, that’s all. You’ mad? Tell me you love me.”

“I love you. You know that,” he brings his face down, sucking her tongue into his mouth. He could never be mad at her for too long, even if it was warranted. Her grin widens as she says, “Good. How’s he doing?” She then brings her attention to the men in the ring, pulling Toji’s hand as she makes her way over to them.

“Distracted by you. Get out,” Shiu expresses, annoyed.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” she brings her eyes to his coach, “Why y’all beefing? What’s the problem?” 

“We’ve been trying to get him to perfect the uppercut, straight-hit. He’s being soft.” 

“What's that?” One of the newer members of the gym asks, climbing into the ring as his session is coming in the next fifteen minutes. 

“It’s when you dip down to the right, punch within the airway of your stomach, then lean towards the left and tag your opponent in the face,” Sonali explains, rubbing Toji’s arm who seems more annoyed than his manager.

“He would’ve done that shit if you were here,” the coach points out.

“Why don’t you train? You know this shit better than most of us do.” The other guy asks.

She shakes her head, “Had to get my hands registered when Toji did. Fighting is a bit traumatic for me now. Plus, I’m in school, I don’t really have the time.” 

Toji knew her real passion, wanting to be a postpartum nurse and help new mothers with their babies. She currently worked a part-time job making the milk within the hospital for their NICU department. He also knew she could easily just be as good as him in boxing if she put her mind to it. 

“Too bad. Put this motherfucker in check, his head is somewhere else when we have a fight tomorrow,” Shiu snaps.

“Wanna get in the ring with him, Shiu? Better yet, with me?” Sonali asks.

He stares silently, muttering as he speaks, “I gotta take a phone call. For your damn fight,” He looks to Toji, stepping down from the ring as she makes his way to another part of the gym. Sonali calls, “C’mon, Shiu! I was just fucking with you.”

“I don’t have time for his prissy ass today. Imma’ get the move, I’m good,” Toji finalizes to his coach.

He replies, “You better.”

Everyone steps down from the ring as they allow the other boxers to get their time in, Sonali sitting on the ground with Toji as she wraps his bandages for him. She sighs, “Shiu’s giving you shit today. Why?”

“He’s pissed at me cause I didn’t take some endorsement deal they called me for. I’m cool with the status I have now. Even that is too much,” he replies honestly.

“You don’t enjoy all the pretty girls gawking over you?” She teasingly asks.

He shakes his head, “The only pretty girl I want fangirling over me is you.”

“Awe, you’re so fake.” She lightly mushes her hand against his face, “Should’ve taken it. Would’ve put more money in our pockets.”

“Money isn’t a problem. You know that,” he reminds, “Don’t I keep you in the life of luxury?” He teases back.

“Of course. But getting calls for endorsement means that they see you have the potential to be bigger than you think. You can make a household name, Fushiguro. Don’t miss that opportunity. You have me. I have you. We’re a team,” she speaks.

He sighs, knowing that she’s right. He wasn’t too fond of being in the limelight, but if that meant more financial stability and to be able to take care of her more than he did now, he found an upside to the situation. 

He changes the subject, “What’d you spend all my money on today?”

“Um, wrong. I spent my money today, playboy. I got it like that,” she corrects him, running her fingers over his olive skin as he chuckles, “I bought the cutest Telfar purse in the store. It was ballerina pink. I had to have it, I also bought some more gym shirts for you, and some outfit choices for my friends party tonight.”

“You didn’t tell me about a party,” he frowns.

“I’m telling you now,” she blinks.

He blows out a breath, scratching the back of his neck as he asks, “What are we eating tonight?”

“Oh! Well, I bought some ingredients to cook you some vegan tacos. I also got a couple of fruits to make smoothies—“

“Why can’t we eat like regular people? I’m a grown ass man, baby. My carnivorous needs aren’t being met.”

She rolls her eyes, “Because I’m under a calorie deficit, and red meat is too heavy for my stomach. And yours,” she replies.

“Ah shit, here we go with this calorie deficit bullshit,” he groans, leaning back on the ground as he continues groaning like a toddler.

“Don’t start with me, Toji. I swear to god.”

Although he was supportive of her new lifestyle as far as her diet was concerned, it sometimes became a frustration between them when he was also forced to eat the same foods as her. He felt like he needed to eat twice after one meal, trying to maintain his correct protein count. 

“Fine, I’ll get you some chicken. It’ll keep you shaped like the Hulk.”

He leans his head up, “If only I was actually that big. I’d fly across the city and burn every vegan-calorie-deficit-item known to man.”

“You’re my biggest hater, you know that?” She raised an eyebrow.

“And your biggest fan all in one.”

She tilts her head, “I almost forgot to mention the last place I went. I stopped by the Savage-Fenty store. Got me a couple lingerie sets,” she rolls her eyes, looking at her bags as she feels Toji sit halfway up.

“But all my items seem so uninteresting to you. So I guess I’ll just take them ba—“

She’s interrupted as he grips her up, throwing her over his shoulder as he grabs all of her belongings with him. She coughs at the sudden movement, giggling as he begins making his way towards the exit.

His coach calls, “Aye! Where the hell you’ going, Fushiguro?!”

“I’m done for tonight. I’ll come back in the morning!”

“You better know how to tap a motherfucker by the time you come here tomorrow!”

“Oh, Imma’ tap something!” He calls back.

Sonali places her hand over her mouth, shockingly laughing as she shouts, “Toji!” His coach shakes his head as he watches them disappear out of the building. 

                              ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡

“You like it? Maybe I should’ve gotten gold. Shit, maybe pink. Ugh.”

Sonali stands indesively in the full body mirror within the bathroom, eyeing herself and pulling any critique she can. She brings her vision behind her as she watches Toji sitting in a bathtub full of ice, absentmindedly scratching his chin as he leans his arms on the sides of the bath, staring at his phone. 

“So anyways, like I was saying. Amara didn’t invite this other girl to the party because when she invited us out to her birthday dinner, she told us that it was a split the bill type of thing, right?”

“Right,” Toji mutters, never looking up from his phone.

“So I tell Amara, girl. What the hell do I look like splitting the bill with somebody? I’m paying for my meal, tipping the waiter and taking my ass home.”

“Right,” he mutters again, stretching his arm back as he scrolls his thumb across his screen.

“The girl catches an attitude and is like, ‘It’s my birthday. I wanna go to a steak restaurant, and imma’ ball out on shrimp, oxtails, lamb chops. Everyone will pay an equal five hundred and sixty—“

“And?” He cuts off, wide eyes shooting up as he hears the number, “There’s an ‘and’ after that number? ‘The fuck I look like paying five hundred American dollars for something I’m not consuming? That lobster better revive itself and boil all over again,” he exclaims.

“Moral to the story is, her and the girl aren’t cool anymore and now she’s blowing up Amara’s phone because she’d already bought her outfit for the party. Make the check out to that lamb chop, bitch,” she finalizes, turning towards him as she then asks, “But seriously, do you like it?”

He takes focus on her outfit, which…wasn't actually an outfit. She stands across from him, wearing a chrome triangle bikini top with matching bottoms, turning to the side as her entire ass was out due to it being thong styled swimwear. He catches his name that’s tattooed on her hip, coming to the conclusion that there was barely anything covering her if he could see that. 

“It’s sexy as hell,” he replies, “A little too sexy, babydoll.”

“It’s a pool party, Toji. Was I supposed to go in a large shirt?”

“Maybe,” he shrugs.

She rolls her eyes, turning back to the mirror. She sighs, “Maybe I should’ve gotten a one piece. I need to tone up a bit in my stomach, it’s getting a little soft,” she mutters, running her fingers over her abdomen. Toji looked over her body, seeing her abs coming through her upper stomach, trying to figure out what the hell she was going on about.

He turns his head towards her, dropping his phone as he asked, “You need to be fucked in front of that mirror before you go?”

Her eyes go wide as she turns, “No!” 

“ Stop talking about yourself then,” he replies, lifting his phone back up. 

She sighs, knowing that she might be being exaggerative. But every time she stares at herself, she sees the girl that would’ve worn a large T-shirt to a pool party. She wished she could get out of her own head. 

Toji steps out of the ice bath, Sonali catching a glimpse of the monster that hung between his legs, a towel quickly being thrown around his waist before she could put a microscope to him. 

“You look good,” he walks past her, slamming his palm on her ass, “The color goes well with your skin tone.”

He wanted to scream for her to take it off. To stay with him in bed, unable for other men to see the demon of a body she had. He let that thought subside. 

“Even if I wanted some dick, did you forget that I just recently got back on birth control? Today’s the last day before it actually activates,” She reminds.

“I know that. Maybe I want a baby,” he shrugs.

She rolls her eyes, “Please. You have Muffin.”

“Of course I do. Muffin!” He then calls.

The large Cane Corso speeds into the room, attacking him as the dog flops onto the bed. Toji groans happily as he wraps his arms around the animal. 

“My Muffin. You won’t put on a skimpy ass bikini and throw yourself to the wolves, will you?” He sarcastically asks, the dog panting in excitement as he rubs her belly. 

“What’s that supposed to mean? Do you not want me to go?” She comes out of the bathroom, beginning to search for her makeup bag in the closet. She doesn’t hear a response from him as he lays next to Muffin, opening the laptop beside their bed. She comes out from the closet as she says, “Hello?” Raising an eyebrow.

He really doesn’t want to have the conversation of him feeling some type of way about her outfit. He doesn’t want to show his jealousy or insecurities, although it probably would’ve been the better option to do. 

He sighs, “Nah, baby. I want you to have fun. What shoes are you wearing?”

“Nothing too crazy, probably my YSL’s,” she shrugs, “I’m more so worried about my hair and makeup. I’m not getting in that damn pool, too much chlorine and I had a wash day not too long ago!”  

“Maybe those clear heels I bought you will go better with your color scheme.”

“The stripper looking ones?”

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Mmm, okay, fashionista! And here I thought you were just in the shackles of your black long sleeves and sweatpants combo.” 

He chuckles, “I am in the shackles. But forreal, don’t have too much fun. I did tell De’Angelo to come pick you up from work tomorrow, let you get ready and then to bring you to my dressing room before my fight. You'll be there?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Daddy,” she grins, going over to him as she plops herself on his lap, laughing as he groans from the impact. 

She stares over the tattoo along his ribs as he continues to glance over the screen of the computer, his eyebrows peeking up as he then asks, “Why am I getting an email from the neighborhood saying we’ve been reported?”

Sonali pauses. She purses her lips together as she flips off of him, making a whistling noise as she says, “C’mon, Muffin. You’ ready to eat?” 

The dog immediately jumps up as she begins following behind her owner. Toji calmly calls her name, “‘’Nali.”

She lets out a deep breath as she says, “Okay, okay. Fine. Me and Muffin were out on our morning jog a couple of days ago and this guy approached me and asked for my number.”

She sees his face twist up as she then continues, “I told him no and that I was engaged, of course. He kept pressing me, asking about Muffin and why she wasn’t on a leash. I told him she was trained—“

“Why were you still talking to him?”

“…I don’t know? I was being nice.”

“‘The fuck you being nice for?”

She pauses as she hears the slight raise of his voice. Her tone goes soft as she finishes, “He asked if he could shake my hand. I told him no. When he put his hand out anyways, Muffin bit him. I immediately reported it to the office, but I was only in violation of having her off of a leash.” 

“And you’re just telling me this now?” He stands from the bed, Sonali quickly turning into the bathroom as she sees him following behind her, “Muffin should’ve bit his fucking arm off, brought it home to me so I could find his ass and beat the shit out of him with it. He could’ve done anything to you.”

“I know that, Toji. I was fine. I could’ve defended myself if needed—“

“I don’t give a fuck, Sonali,” he calls her by her full name.

He sees her face change, a soft frown coming to her lips. She’s not used to him being upset with her. It’s not that she took advantage of that, she just hated seeing him upset, so it was easier to keep things from him. He runs his fingers over his damp hair, coming towards her as he lifts her onto the bathroom counter.

“You have to tell me when stuff like that happens, baby. God forbid he tried to hurt you and I wasn’t there, I would’ve lost my fucking mind. Please just be careful when taking your daily runs, okay?”

She nods her head, “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry,” she brings her arms around his neck, pulling his forehead to hers as he replies, “I’m not mad.”

“You sure? You’re not gonna go find him and kill him?”

“Imma’ mush his fucking skull in. But I’m not mad at you,” he clarifies.

She rolls her eyes, pushing him away from her as she hops off of the counter, “Mmm, whatever. You’ jealous or something?” She taunts, making her way back out of the bathroom as she retrieves her makeup. He squeezes his fists together as he thinks, maybe, taking another breath as he heads back into the bedroom.

 

                              ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡

The night falls on the next day rather quickly. Buzz about the fight goes along the entire city, Sonali watching as De’Angelo pulls up to the front of the building, seeing long lines of men and women—a huge influx of women— chatting excitedly as they hand their tickets to the person within the booth, making their way into the arena. 

She takes D’s hand as he pulls her through the crowd, eyes lightly glaring over her as they jump the line and walk through, Sonali politely thanking anyone working within the building. They guide them upstairs to the second floor, leading them to a door with ‘FUSHIGURO’ aligned in all red. 

“Yeah?” Toji calls out with a slight groan as he hears a knock, his tone sounding slightly exasperated as the fighters focus was on his upcoming match.

Sonali slowly presses the door open as she softly asks, “Can I come in?”

As she slowly opens the door, Toji sits in his full gear along the dressing room sofa. Black mouth piece, compression leggings beneath the black shorts he wears, his name titled along the hem of his bottoms. His tattoos seem to stand out more as he wears darker attire.  Harsh eyes focus in as he talks to Shiu and his coach. That focus slowly dissipates as he looks to the door, a look of shock crossing his face as she enters, quickly gazing over at the barely fitted dress she wears. It was onyx, white lace trimming the top and bottom of the short material. Extremely short. A soft pink bow sits in the middle at the top where her breasts are pushed up, nearly spilling from the fabric, it being thin where everyone can slightly see her brown nipples. To top it all off, it barely covers her ass, the skin jiggling with every movement she makes, clearly ill-fitting as she has to lightly pull it down with every step. She wears the clear tall heels he’d bought her, his leather jacket hung over the entire dress—although that didn’t change how fucking preposterous it was— her usual dark curls now lengthened out in loose waves, small pink bows cascading in her hair. She was fucking gorgeous. Sexy. Edible. Fuckable. Toji wanted to kill her. 

She smiles softly as she sees him while removing the leather jacket, throwing it to the side of the sofa as she presses her knees against the cushions, wrapping her arms around Toji’s neck as she slightly bends down to do so. From across the mirror, Toji catches her pink hello-kitty panties as she bends down, Shiu and De’Angelo also sees this. Everyone can’t help but stare.

“Hi, Shiu. How are you?” She asks. God, this girl was so bad with awareness.

“Uh…I’m good,” he adjusts his suit, the sight of the dress quickly arousing the man without trying to do so. 

Toji’s gaze remained fixated on her as he said nothing. His emotions went from annoyance, to arousal, to complete rage as he now caught the sight of the other two men.

“You need me to glue your eyes back into your head? Or better yet, rip them out of your eye sockets all in one? Get the fuck out,” he spits to both of them. 

Both Shiu and De’Angelo practically run out, Sonali frowning softly as she asks, “What’s wrong?”

He runs his hand over his face as he stands from the sofa, throwing his mouthguard onto the mirror dresser. He had a lot—repeat—a lot of patience with Sonali. Her naivety to dangerous situations, the way she dressed, the way she smiled in the attention of any man without realizing what she was doing. But this had to be his icing on the cake. 

He drops his hand from his face as he finally speaks, “What in the actual fucking hell—are you wearing, Sonali?”

She blinks. Standing from the sofa as she comes behind him, laughing uncomfortably as she sarcastically mutters, “A dress? What else would it b—“

“Do you see me laughing? Do I look like a fucking joke to you?”

Her mouth clasps closed as he comes inches away from her face, hovering over her smaller frame. She ducks back a bit as she puts together that he’s entirely serious. Shit.

“You bought this for me, Toji.”

He smacks his lips, actually finding something funny in that. “Nah. I didn’t buy that, I just paid for it. I would’ve never let you have a dress like that had I seen you try it on, don’t be fucking stupid.”

Stupid?

“Stupid?” She looks around, “Who the fuck are you talking to?” She comes even closer to his face, ducking down as she squints, “Wanna rewind? Clearly you’ve lost your mind.”

“Damn right I’ve lost my mind. I’m talking to my fiance who decided to come to my fight wearing half of her fucking outfit!” He exclaims, “This is my first time seeing you today. God fuckin’ knows where else else you’ve been in this stupid ass dress!” 

“I was at work!” She fired back, “Which you should know, you keep De’Angelo chained to me like he’s my fucking babysitter!” 

“I wouldn’t have to hire a babysitter if you weren’t such a goddamn child, Sonali. Just no fuckin’ awareness to any situation! First it was you not making a big deal out of the fact that some motherfucker in the neighborhood damn near attempted to assault you, now this! Things happen to women too fucking fast. I can’t protect you if I’m not around, or I don’t know what happened! That’s why you have De’Angelo. But none of this even matters if you wanna make shit harder by walking around dressed like a fuckin’ slut!” 

She jerked back at his words. Her eyes went slightly wide, immediately feeling as they filled with hot, angry tears. She hadn’t felt this type of rage in so long. The only other time she’d felt like this, her fist was plummeted within a woman’s face. She felt disrespected, hurt by his words. 

“You know how long it took me to even be able to wear a t-shirt without sleeves? Anything that showed my stomach? Any part of my body, really. This was my fear. To be judged. But I didn’t think it would be by the person who got me out of my shell in the first place,” she spoke with a depth, wanting him to hear every word, tears dropping mindlessly down her face. 

His anger softened for a moment as he heard her words. Realizing the things he said, he knew he couldn’t take them back. His biggest fear was hurting this woman in a way he couldn’t repair, and hitting her in her biggest insecurities definitely was a way to do that. He watches as she presses her hands over her face, masking her tears as she holds in her cries, finally releasing as she trembles out a soft sob. She quickly turns away from him, beelining for the door.

“Fuck,” he muttered, “Babydoll. I’m—“

It all happened so fast. When he reached for her wrist, she turned towards him, rapidly swinging her right fist forward as it plunged into the middle of his stomach, Toji unable to block her hit as her left fist painfully knocked into his jaw. He stumbled back as he caught himself against the mirror. His eyes immediately went down to her left fist, seeing the blood along her knuckles, finger bare of her ring. Even as pissed as he was, he still knew everything about her. Of course she removed her ring to prove just how lethal her left hand was. 

He stared at her, the anger from earlier washing over his entire body. He wasn’t just angry now. He was pissed. He spat against the floor, watching as a pool of blood dropped from his mouth, looking over to the mirror to see she’d punched directly on a previous scar. She knew it was wrong to become violent with him— she figured she just wanted to do something to hurt him as well. 

“That’s how you do that move,” she sneered, placing her ring back on her finger. 

The door then opens as Shiu enters, seeing the scene in front of him. Sonali’s fists grip under her fingers, hands still shaking as she only focused on Toji who stared evilly back at her. 

“We’re up, Fushiguro—“

Shiu grunts as Sonali bumps his shoulder, flying past him. His eyes go back to Toji as he says, “Should I ask what happened?”

Toji says nothing. In silence, he turns back towards the mirror as he looks for his mouth guard, only saying, “Bring me my gloves.” 

She felt like she was gonna have an anxiety attack, leaning against the wall outside of the dressing room as she held her chest, feeling all of her emotions that she buried down returning. They had their disagreements, but this had to be one of the worst. The way he spoke to her, her reaction to his words. She felt regretful. She wanted to apologize, she hoped that he was apologetic as well. 

She clears her eyes of tears as she can hear the rumble of chaos coming from downstairs, hearing as they call his name through the speakers in the arena. Pulling herself together as she turned the corner where De’Angelo stood, gripping his hand as she pulled him forward, “Let’s go.”

Anytime she came to his show, she had a front row seat directly across from the ring. This time she wished she was in the nosebleeds. She sits next to De’Angelo who stares everywhere but her, noticing how her eyes stay along her legs, adjusting herself uncomfortably in her dress. 

“Mr. Fushiguro told me to give you this, he knew you would be cold,” He says, handing her the leather jacket she previously wore earlier. 

“He said that?” She asks.

“…Yes ma’am,” he replies softly, watching as she slowly takes the jacket from him. 

He helps her put the jacket over her shoulders, her eyes coming upward as everyone around her cheers. An uproar goes along the building as Toji appears in the ring. She sees that his scar is healing faster than she expected, a small hint of relief coming from her at that. Usually he would wink at her before any match she came to, this time, she assumed he would keep his head in the opposite direction. But no. He turns, looking directly at her as he winks. She frowns.

“May I say something, Sonali?” 

She’s taken out of her thoughts as she turns to De’Angelo. She sighs, “Are you about to ‘dad’ me right now?”

“You need it. I’m old enough to be your father. God rest his soul,” he speaks, Sonali crossing her arms over her chest, feeling a ball forming in her throat. 

“Both of you were wrong for the way you handled that situation. But he should’ve expressed that in a different way. My daughter would’ve been hung on a flagpole by this goddamn dress. But you’re grown, I can’t tell you what you shouldn’t wear. The ultimate issue is you also shouldn’t have hit him, even if you know he can take a punch. You just need to apologize to each other. And quickly, when y’all are fighting it fucks up my chakras.”

Sonali turns her eyes to him, unable to help but softly laugh. She sighs, “I don’t like you sometimes.”

“I’m your babysitter, remember? You’re not supposed to.”

As she brings her eyes back to the ring, she sees they’d already begun. It was always a nervous time for her to watch him fight. But she also knew that he was fast, and his strength was terrifying. He patiently awaits for his opponent to make the first move, the opponent ducking down, Toji quickly moving out of the way as he sends a devastating hook to the man’s face, flying him backwards against the ring. The crowd goes wild, the referee having to step in as Toji continues swinging his gloves along the man’s face, probably knocking all of his thoughts out of his head. He’s agile, knowing immediately which part of the man’s body he wants to connect with next, giving him no room to defend himself. She could feel his anger pooling off of his body, fists throwing various strikes, the opponent panting as he gets in a few hits himself, Toji immediately blocking them. 

It was one second as she watched his opponent give him a good hit to the face, Sonali cringing as she shut her eyes, leaning her elbows on her legs as she muttered, “Fuck. C’mon, baby.”

Regardless of how they felt about one another right now, she was here. He had her support. He doesn’t show any sign of fatigue, even after that good strike against his chin. Her eyes scatter along their moving bodies, Sonali never expecting as Toji dips down with his right fist, punching the man within the airway of his stomach, coming back up as he strikes him within the left side of his jaw, his body dropping down to the ring floor. Chaos goes along the audience. Sonali’s unable to hold the relieved smile that comes along her face, De’Angelo clapped as she cheered at the succession of him achieving that movement. His team patted his muscular arms and shoulders, pulling him back down to give him time to breath. A countdown went along the room as his opponent still hadn't gotten up. When Sonali thought this would all be over, the opponent struggles as he stands, either crazy or just plain stupid as he’s ready for another round.

She frowns as they call for a thirty-minute break, the opponent complaining about how Toji commited a “foul,” claiming he’d kicked him a couple of times. Sonali rolls her eyes, leaning back against her seat as both opponents leave the ring, scurrying back to their dressing rooms. 

“Mr. Fushiguro requests that you come back to his dressing room.”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Right now? I’m sure Shiu doesn’t want me distracting him.”

“I’m just telling you what Shiu told me. Don’t get me in trouble again,” he reminds, Sonali chuckling as she replies, “I’m going.”

Making her way back upstairs, she feels herself become nervous. She wants to find the correct words to have this conversation with him, hoping that he’s in the same headspace as she is. 

“You’re not coming in?” She asks De’Angelo who stands on the opposite side of the door.

“No ma’am,” he starts firmly.

She raises an eyebrow at that, muttering, “Uh, okay.”

She pushes the door open as she makes her way inside, preparing herself for the amount of adrenaline she’s sure he carries from the fight. She expects to see Shiu and his coach in there speaking to him, seeing as he stands across from the mirror by himself, carefully unwrapping the bandages on his fingers. 

She blows out a breath, “Toji—“

“Come here.”

Once she enters the dressing room, she can immediately hear his heavy breathing. He says this as he doesn’t turn to look at her—His tone was clear for her to listen. 

She slowly comes forward, standing a couple of inches  away from him as she says, “I want us to talk—“

“On your knees,” he calmly interrupts, eyes still not upon hers as he finishes unraveling the last bit of his bandages. Her heart thuds in her chest as she hears this, seeing as he now turns his face towards her. He was completely serious. 

“Now?” She asks.

“Now.”

She still stands in confusion. He becomes impatient, gripping her firmly by her hair, pulling her down as her knees come to the floor. Her eyes only watch him, becoming almost doe like, body becoming infinitely aroused as she awaited for his next command.

“You want my dick in your mouth, don’t you?”

Her mouth waters at the thought. She doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, but she nods her head nonetheless.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” 

He grips her hair tighter, using his other hand as he pulls out his length from under his boxers, veiny and large as it stands across from her face. 

She nods her head, correcting herself as she says softly, “…Yes, Daddy.”

“Good.”

He pulls her jaw open, forcing himself past her lips as he knocks into the back of her throat, pulling her down by her hair as her mouth makes contact with his hips. Sonali moans as she opens her mouth wider, choking out a cough which sends vibrations throughout Toji’s body. He grunts as he watches her, Sonali drooling more each time she pulls her mouth back to his tip, swirling her tongue on the inside of her cheek. She keeps her face upwards, looking straight into his as he leans his head down, eyes blown with lust. 

“You see that?” He asks, digging his fingers within the scalp of her hair, moving his hips rhythmically into her mouth, creating a wet noise with each connection. 

“This fuckin’ mouth of yours. Imma’ make a mess of your fuckin’ throat. It’s mine,” he tells her. She hums at that, feeling her jaw slightly burning, spit running down the sides of her mouth as she twists her head, falling deeper within the trap of his words. It gets to a point where she barely does any movement herself, her throat full as he slams into the back of it, eyes becoming watery as he doesn’t plan to be gentle with her.

He finally relaxes as he pulls her back, Sonali breathing heavily within her chest as she runs her tongue over her lips. Toji tilts his head, “So fuckin’ needy, aren’t you? You want more?”

She nods her head, feeling her nipples hardening at his words as he gently smacks his palm against her cheek, “Say you want more. Use your words.”

“I want more,” she says quietly.

“Louder.”

“I want more, please,” she raises her voice a bit more.

He then pulls her up by her hair again, pushing her against the mirror dresser as her back is now against it, legs spread widely as her knees fall along the black marble. She shivers at the coldness of it, feeling as Toji scoots her down towards him, pulling her panties to the side as he attaches his mouth to her clit. He immediately moaned at the taste of her. She shudders at the cold feeling of his tongue-ring, bringing her eyes down as she watches him circle his head slowly in between her legs, bringing his tongue in a dreadful up and down motion as he spreads her legs wider, holding her down by both legs as he makes out with her opening. Sonali presses her hands to the back of her knees, raising her head as she watches.

“Yeah, baby. That’s it,” she moans, “Eat my pussy just like that,” she talks, shuddering out a whine as he spanks the skin of her ass beneath them. She raises her head fully to look at him, pushing her hand through his hair to look within his eyes that don’t come up to hers.

“Baby…look at me,” she asks softly.

He grunts at her voice, never fulfilling her request. It frustrates her. Diving his tongue deeper into her, he motions his head back and forth, Sonali biting her lip to hold back her dazed smile. She continues to speak to him, “That’s so fucking good, Daddy,” she whimpers, “Fuck my pussy with your tongue. I love that.”

He became annoyed with her talking, not eating her out for the sake of her pleasure. He was simply preparing her body for the way he was about to fuck her. On the other hand, her voice was like a drug he couldn’t stop withdrawing from, feminine and soft as she whined, spreading her legs wider and dipping his tongue deeper with each word. It was like lighting a fire in hell, knowing how aroused she could make him by just speaking.

“Here, let me help you,” she says, gripping his hair as she raises his mouth from her clit, slowly placing it back down as his lips create a suctioning noise from that. Sonali grinds herself against his mouth, watching as Toji moves his tongue all around her core, going back down to her opening as he fully pushes his tongue inside, fucking her as she asked. She becomes more wet from that, gushing out each time he removes his mouth just for a second, shoving right back in. She giggles sultrily, twisting her head to the side as she watches. Her head falls against the black marble of the dresser, back arching as she whimpers, “Don’t stop. I’m gonna squirt all over your fucking mouth, baby. Just the way you like it. Just the way you want me to, okay? I promise.” 

His entire body inflames at her words, standing up fully as he keeps a hold of her panties with his other hand, dropping his tip along her clit as it smushes arousingly against it. He mutters, “Hold your legs up,” Sonali doing so as he takes a hold of her ankles. She leans her head back against the dresser again, grunting slightly as he’s already pushing his tip inside her, taking that hand as he lifts her head, “Nah. You’re gonna watch me go inside you. Take every fuckin’ inch of this dick.” 

Her legs tremble as he fills her, her mouth going agape as she watches all of him being swallowed by her opening. An intense pinch is within her abdomen as she closes her eyes, whimpering deeply in her throat. Her body feels complete, regardless of how big he actually was, no matter how long he ate her out for—she couldn’t handle him.

“Oh my godd…” she quivers, moaning loudly as she tightens around him, Toji spanking her as he demands, “Open my pussy. I’m gonna ruin you. You’ll love every second of it.”

She’s unable to reply, her voice lost as he slowly pulls back, somehow going deeper when he pushes all the way in. An influx of curses leave her mouth, Toji’s hand moving from her hair to her lips, shoving his fingers into her mouth as he grits out, “Watch your mouth.”

He pulls her by the bite of her teeth, the back of her thighs dirtily clapping with his hips, Toji taking the hand that’s still around her ankle as he brings his thumb to her clit, rubbing in circles to relax her. Sonali closes her eyes, in a high state of mind almost, vision rolling to the back of her head as she moans dumbly, intelligence thrown out the window with each thrust. 

“This fuckin’ dress,” he growls, pulling it up her hips as it now almost looked to be a shirt. His actions are a mix of lust and frustration. Nonetheless, he’s unable to hold back his desires and feelings as he grabs a hold of her hips, shoving her down to meet his body. He watched every reaction she gave. He was clearly still pissed off, but the way she looked up to him with her eyes, her mouth sucking his fingers deeper into her throat as she moaned, whined and writhed beneath him, it didn’t help in the slightest. He wanted to tear the entire dress apart. He brings his hand back down, spanking her ass again, this time leaving a bruise. 

“You think I want every man in this building to see my woman? I think you like it when I’m mad. Shit turns you on,” he grunts, Sonali jumping as he continuously spanks her. 

“I…Toji…” she softly cries, wanting to reach her hand to his. He takes her hand, roughly placing it back behind her knee as he says, “Hold your legs. Shut the fuck up.”

Her mouth closes as she whimpers, lightly grazing her teeth against his fingers as he shoves them within her throat. All she can do is watch. She tries to hold herself together, wanting to adjust her body as she’s trapped in a position where she feels every…single…thrust. Her eyes tear away from his, more curses releasing from her lips as he immediately smacks her cheek at that, moving her face away from his hand as she whines, “Fuckk, baby.” 

“You love it, I know,” he becomes irritated, “Daddy’s always gonna fuck you like this. You’re wet as fuck,” he continues, her thighs smacking into his skin, she hiccups as she nods, “I love being fucked like this. Don’t stop, don’t stop. Don’t stoppp,” she can’t stop whining, becoming more wet with her own words. Toji can’t help but moan in response, slowly slipping from the mask of anger he wears. 

The mirror knocks into the wall, Toji bringing his hand back into her hair as he pulls her head backwards, forcing her to look at herself. 

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, babydoll. Look at yourself,” he talks, Sonali’s eyes closing as she speaks, “Stop it.”

“Believe me. You’re pretty as fuck, baby. Never seen a woman more beautiful. Even in this stupid ass dress,” he grunts.

Sonali can feel herself becoming emotional at his words, a mix of pleasure also collecting in her eyes as tears begin to form. She moans, voice shaky as she replies, “You don’t mean that…” 

“I mean every word, ‘Nali. Never loved a woman more than I love your pretty ass. Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he tilts her head more, Sonali lifting her eyes to show her attentiveness. She can see from the mirror as he holds her other leg by the ankle, nearly lifting her hips off of the marble as he drops them down onto his length, Sonali whining loudly as he continues to speak, “Look at my wife. My fuckin’ wife.” 

She cries softly at his words, closing her eyes as she pulls them away from the mirror. He keeps going, “So fuckin’ sorry, babydoll…”

She ignores him, moaning softly as he removes himself from her and brings his lips down to her clit, sucking and swirling his tongue against the throbbing in between her legs. She holds his hair in her hands, body becoming immensely tired from his movements. Toji was the opposite. He was only getting started. 

She inhales as he then wraps his arms around her waist, picking her up as he then brings them over to the sofa, sitting himself back against the furniture as he sits her against his lap. 

He kisses her shoulders, gradually moving up to her throat as he drags his tongue against the skin. Her body shivers from the jewelry in his mouth, always adding an extra touch of pleasure to anything she was feeling. It was a soft touch, but it was enough to make her react. That reaction made him want to keep going. He touches her face as she looks down to him, he thinks she looks adorable, then confidently pulling her face forward as he kissed her. It was always warm, his mouth completely hot against hers. She immediately relaxed into the kiss. They stopped all of their other movements as they were only focused on kissing each other, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him deeper, an assertiveness coming out from him as he pulled her down, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, allowing Sonali to catch it each time it entered past her lips.

She wasn't sure why her face became slightly warm at his sudden sweetness. Instead of telling him what she wanted, she pulled his lips to her throat as she wanted him to kiss there again, feeling as Toji chuckled at that. She felt the coldness of the piercing return, his hands sliding down to her ass as he squeezed. She gripped his neck, lightly whimpering as he placed his tongue back in her mouth, legs wanting to squeeze shut as she could feel herself becoming aroused even more.

Her body trembles almost embarrassingly. He goes from kissing her to dragging his tongue along her neck. She hides her face within his shoulder as she lightly speaks against his ear, “I want you…” she says softly.

He lets out a soft grunt of satisfaction when he hears her  words, smiling as he keeps kissing her on the neck, not being too aggressive, keeping it going at a decent pace. 

“You want me, huh?” He teases.

“Yes,” she admits, nodding her head, face completely red. Her breath hitches as he firmly grips her face, pointing her eyes to his as he speaks, “Repeat that to me.”

“I…I want you,” she repeated again, flustered at his aggression.

“Say it louder. Mean it. Tell Daddy you wanna show him how much you love this dick,” he taunts her. 

“Baby, please,” she begs, “Don’t be mean,” she pouts. She went to protest again, her mind swarming as he roughly pulled her panties to the side of her ass, holding the thin material. Her mind goes numb as he slightly lifts her up with his other hand, sinking her down onto his length. Her mouth drops open, eyes falling to his as she whines, dropping her face within his shoulder again as she could hear him ask, “What was that?”

His voice sounds more gruff than usual, "Was that a complaint?"

“No…I…fuck,” she curses, unable to finish her sentence as a moan broke through her lips, her arms relaxing around his neck as he picks her up, dropping her back down on his hips. Her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head at the feeling, thighs trembling in response. She couldn’t stop gasping, biting her lip to stop the sounds. She became more aroused with each movement, hips plummeting together as she held onto him, whimpering along his ear. 

“I’m waiting for you to show me,” he spanks her, Sonali jumping in response. 

She feels her muscles weakening, body becoming sore as she places her hands along his hard stomach, lifting her hips as she slowly brings them back down, moaning softly at the pleasure she feels from doing so. He watches her with hooded eyes, leaning back along the sofa as he only keeps his hands along her back, allowing her to fuck herself. 

“F—feels so good…” she repeats, circling her hips down, moving her hair out of her face as she becomes hot. 

He was enthralled by her beauty. Her hair was messy around her face, makeup slightly messy as she continued to dig her teeth into her lip. But as his eyes traveled down, his anger began creeping back up as he stared over this damn dress, seeming this caused their entire issue in the first place.

“Let me show you.”

He suddenly places his arms under thighs, lifting her up on his lap as she’s now half-way in the air, Toji bringing her up, slamming her back down, bouncing her against his hips in a way that it caused her to shout. She nearly feels this man in her stomach. She becomes incoherent, Toji arrogantly chuckling as he talks to her with every bounce, “Fuck, baby. Look at you, you’re creaming’,” watching as her arousal appears more on his length with each raise of her hips as he continues talking to her, “This is how I want you. I wanna see you cry,” he keeps going, ignoring the squelching of her opening, Sonali sobbing mercilessly atop of him. 

“Tell me how you feel,” he asks.

“I feel so good, so good, so good,” she cries, “Ungh, babbyy.” 

“I know, babydoll,” he coos mockingly, “Keep taking my shit so well,” he’s relentless, bringing his hips up to meet the movement he causes, snapping upward to hit her deepest spots.

Sonali places her hand on his leg, leveraging as she begins meeting his rhythm, coming back down onto him as she grinds, “Yes, baby. I love your dick….So much…so fucking much,” she softly cries, barely able to get the words out, “Why are you fucking me like this…”

“‘Cause you asked for it.”

He continues moving his hips with her on top, pressing her down more and more. He slows down, keeping them stationary so that she could feel everything that he’s giving to her, allowing her to experience the moment fully. He takes his hand against her throat, now using that to tug her down, grunting as he feels himself cumming. It happened before he realized, Sonali keeping her eyes closed as a warmth filled her body, trapped in his hold as she continued to drop down on his thighs. Her body could barely take anymore, a feeling of relief almost washing over her at his release. 

“Baby, I—“

“I know.” 

He pulls out of her, twisting her around so she’s now laid on his lap with her back pressed to his chest. He rubs his hands along her body, squeezing her breast within his hand as he drags his fingers down her stomach, placing both of her legs against each side of his so they’re spread open. Her eyes face the mirror across from them, feeling her face going warm at the sight of them together. He takes his other hand as he places it on her throat, fingers by her inner thigh traveling over to her clit, beginning to rub in circles.

She places her hand along his face as he looks down to her, continuing to rub her clit as she begs, “Kiss me.”

He does. He places his mouth over hers, the both of them dirtily wrapping their tongues around one another, Sonali moaning as his fingers gently trail over her core, rubbing the area in a way that had her feening for more. She lightly raises her hips up, Toji chuckling within her mouth as he feels her become more wet.

“Look at you. My pretty babydoll,” he compliments against her lips, “I’m sorry, baby. I was mean to you, wasn’t I?”

The hand that’s gently against his face begins lightly gripping his jaw as he rubs his fingers faster, whimpering as she nods her head. She attempts to kiss him, her mouth staying agape as he spreads her opening, rubbing one finger directly along her clit. 

“I hate this fuckin’ dress,” he groans, “Hate that you look so fuckin’ sexy in it. Hate that other eyes see what’s mine.”

“‘M sorry, baby,” she whimpered against his mouth. 

“But they’ll never get to see you like this, will they?”

Her mouth drops open again as he takes his index and middle finger, sinking them inside of her, slowly pulling them out halfway as he sunk them back in. He continued this, pulling her head upwards as she was back to the mirror.

“Crying all over my dick, now crying from my fingers. But you want more,” he moans, feeling his fingers being pulled back inside of her, wanting more. Needing more. 

“Squirt on my fingers, baby. Wanna see all of you,” he begs, whimpering himself, “Please.” 

Sonali trembles at his words, gripping his neck as she cries, her entire body shuddering as she listens to him slam his fingers within her, soaking the sofa with her arousal. He sticks his tongue in her mouth, laughing arrogantly as she orgasms, writhing against him as she screams. She can’t stop screaming, sobbing out his name as her hips tremble with each thrust of his hand. 

“So fucking beautiful. I love you,” he grunts, smashing his lips to hers, “Tell me you fuckin’ love me.”

“I love you so much, Toji,” Sonali cries, her entire body shaking as she continues to orgasm. He holds her as she calms her breathing, her body still trembling as he passionately kisses her again. She’d never felt this much need and desire from him in a while, accepting his kiss as he spanked her opening, laughing within her mouth as she whined, “Stop it.”

“I’m done. I promise,” he chuckles, picking her up so she cradles within his lap. He moves her hair out of her face, gripping her chin as he sees her makeup running down her face, tears still blinking within her eyes. 

“You okay?” He softly asks, still feeling her body shuddering, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, babydoll.” 

“I’m fine, Toji. Don’t get all sensitive and worrisome,” she brushes him off, wiping her face. 

“I didn’t mean anything about the sex. I fucked you stupid, I know you like that,” he says, her face going warm as he continues, “I’m saying in general. I’m really sorry about what I said. I’d never wanna hurt you in that way. I was just…”

He takes a deep breath, “Jealous.”

She frowns, “Jealous?”

“Babydoll, we’ve been together for years. I’ve seen you grow in more ways than one. To be at your full potential and the attention you get from it…it scares me, it scares me that I won’t be enough for you. You’ll continue to grow. The dress just kinda mixed together with the other insecurities I was facing,” he admits.

She sees the vulnerability within his face, pulling her forehead to his as she speaks, “No other man is comparable to you. You’re my heart. Please know that,” she states. 

He smiles weakly at her words, kissing her cheek as she continues, “But I have some apologizing to do as well. I should’ve never put my hands on you, no matter how upset I was. And…maybe the dress was a bit much,” she mutters to herself.

“I deserved it. I was a dick. And honestly, I don’t care what you wear, baby. I know you’re gonna come home to me with that damn outfit on. I’ll buy you a thousand of these dresses, fuck you in every single one of them,” he promises, making her giggle as he tickles her with his lips along her neck. 

“Maybe I can buy them in mediums next time,” she suggests. 

“We can always do the big t-shirt idea,” he also suggests. 

She then rolls her eyes, standing from his lap as he pulls the dress down to her upper thighs, a knock coming along the door as a voice shouts, “You’re late, Fushiguro! Round two!” 

“You should go,” she reminds, placing the leather jacket over her body as she zips it up halfway, covering the rest of the dress from the bottom. She looks to Toji’s eyes as she sees an amusement in them, glaring as she says, “Don’t say anything.”

“Wasn’t gonna. Until you zipped it up. I must’ve really punished your ass, huh? You’ sore?”

“I’m leaving,” she mutters, making her way to the door. “Maybe I will buy those dresses all in a small. Just to spite you!” 

“You’ need another reminder? ‘Cause I can really wear your ass out—“

“No,” she replies, sticking her tongue out, shrieking as he steps forward to grab her. 

He then grabs for his gloves and mouthguard, winking at her as she sticks her middle finger up, making her way back downstairs to watch him fight.

“That’s what I thought.” 

[daisyblog]

First Date

Unexpected Love Masterlist Summary: Harry and YN are set up on a date.

2019

Jonny had separately nagged YN and Harry to let him set them up on a date. Harry’s argument was that he was in the middle of writing his second album, and wanted to be on his own after his last break up. YN’s protest was that she was a single working Mum who didn’t have the time, and added “nobody wants to date a single mum”. 

After what felt like months of constant begging, Harry and YN both gave in to their friend and agreed to go on a date. Jonny had arranged for them to meet at a small quiet restaurant on the outskirts of London, knowing Harry would want to stay under the radar. 

YN had been nervous all day. She had messaged Jonny several times to try and cancel but he insisted that it was just nerves and she should give it a chance. Harry felt mixed emotions, part of him was nervous, he was meeting someone new but the other part of him was excited because he knew Jonny wouldn’t set him up with just anyone. 

Harry arrived at the restaurant first, being fifteen minutes early. He was shown to their table which he was grateful was tucked into a corner away from other tables. He knew that was down to Jonny’s request. Wanting to calm his nervous, Harry ordered a bottle of wine for them, hoping YN liked it too. 

He had just taken a small sip from his glass, when he saw the waiter walking towards him with a woman following behind. Harry stood from his chair, ready to greet her. “Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you”. Harry spoke first, bringing YN in for a hug. 

“Jonny and his persuasive ways huh?”. YN joked, causing Harry to smile knowing Jonny must have nagged YN as much as he had nagged him. 

Harry pulled YN’s chair out for her to sit before taking his place back in her own. “I ordered wine, I can get you something else if you’d prefer”. 

“No…wine is perfect, thank you”. YN smiled with appreciation, showing her little dimples. “I like your tattoos”. She complimented as she noticed them on his arm, that was exposed due to his short sleeved shirt. 

Harry glanced down as he looked at his arm, smiling slightly at the mixture of ink that covered his skin. “Uh thanks…I have too many to count”. He giggled. “Do you have any?”. He gestured to his tattoos. 

YN hesitated before explaining. “I have one…on my wrist”. She turned her hand over to reveal the delicate ink on her right wrist. “It’s my son’s name”. YN watched for a change in Harry’s response or how he may end the date now. 

But what surprised YN was Harry’s genuine grin as he looked down at her wrist. “What’s his name?”. His question was genuine, YN could tell by how he looked at her directly in the eye which a soft look. 

“Jacob”. YN smiled as she thought about her favourite person. The little boy who saved her in more ways than he would ever know. “He’s five and a real sweetheart.”. Harry noticed how YN’s whole face lit up as she spoke about him. “Does me having a son not bother you?”. YN couldn’t help but ask.

Harry frowned at her question before shaking his head. “Of course not…I don’t date people based on if they’re a parent, or if they have a certain job or x amount of money in the bank…I date people for them.”. 

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t help but ask, I’m not used to people being so understanding when it comes to Jacob”. YN apologised, hoping she hadn’t ruined the date before it had started properly. 

“Hey…it’s fine, you can be yourself tonight…there’s no judgement from me.” Harry reassured her, knowing how it felt for someone not to get to know you and having a false opinion. 

“Thank you…that really means a lot”. YN smiled before taking a sip from her glass, needing to treat her dry throat. 

“So tell me about you and Jacob…I can see he’s your life and I want to know more”. The sentence caused a spark in YN’s chest at how interested Harry was in not only her but the one person who mattered the most. 

Harry and YN had talked, laughed and smiled all evening. YN couldn’t remember the last time she felt like herself and was able to be just YN and not just a Mum. Harry wondered how he hadn’t met YN sooner because for once someone didn’t want to speak to him because he was Harry Styles, he could see that YN was genuinely interested in getting to know him as just Harry. 

Harry had learnt that YN was in university studying business when she fell pregnant but had to drop out before graduating. But now owned her own florist in London. He noticed that she hasn’t mentioned her family apart from Jacob, but decided it was best to leave it that way for now. She didn’t ask one question related to the band or his music, she asked questions about his family, where he grew up, his childhood memories and all the little things that built up who he is today. 

After they had finished their meals and nicely argued about how the bill was going to be paid, they found themselves walking through a quieter part of town, still chatting and giggling like two teenagers. They wanted to blame the wine but deep down they both knew it was from the excitement of each other. 

Harry had arranged for a taxi to drop them both back home. They were both supposed to realise that YN didn’t live far from Harry’s Hampstead house. He walked YN up to her door to make sure she was home safe. They both stood staring at each other, waiting for the other to break the silence. Smirks covering their smiles. 

“I had a really nice time tonight”. Harry broke first, meaning what he had said. 

“Me too!”. YN felt shy for the first time all evening. 

“Can I see you again?”. Harry was bold, he hadn’t felt like this after a date before and he wasn’t willing to lose his chance. 

YN smiled, she felt special and chosen for once and inside she was screaming with happiness. Harry really wanted to see her again. “I’d love that”.

They quickly swapped numbers and Harry was eager to arrange to see YN again. Before making his way back to the taxi that was waiting patiently, he leaned in to hug YN goodbye. It was like neither of them wanted to let go but the feeling of Harry’s lips leaving a peck on her cheek is what caused YN to jump around in happiness once she closed the door behind her that night.

Taglist:

@ell0ra-br3kk3r

[ace-turned-confused]

planted in your garden | joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist | read on ao3

summary: joel has always shown his love for you through flowers, and now it's your turn to do the same word count: 1k warnings: 18+ only, reader has tattoos & is shorter than joel, joel being soft & lovey-dovey & just the best in general, bit of spiciness at the end a/n: written for @morallyinept's Fauna & Flora Challenge ❤️ not beta’d or any of that jazz, please enjoy :)

If there’s one thing you know about Joel Miller, it’s that he will always find a reason to buy you flowers, no need for a special occasion. It’s been a long hard week and I wanted to get you something, saw these pretty flowers and thought of my pretty girl, got them just because I love you. Whether it’s an entire bouquet or just a few wild stems tied together by a ribbon, you’re sure he’s given you more flowers than you’ve received in your entire life.

It started on your birthday — you told him you hadn’t planned anything because you didn’t want a big fuss and it wasn’t a number worth celebrating, and he insisted on bringing you dinner so you wouldn’t have to spend the evening on your own. Every number is worth celebrating, it means you’ve been around another whole year. You were floored when he showed up on your doorstep, pizza boxes in one hand and a bunch of red and pink tulips in the other.

“Saw the ink on your arm there and just assumed they were your favourite. None of the stores ever have anything fresh or pretty enough, so I just cut these from my back garden.”

Joel Miller. Cut red and pink tulips for you. From his own garden.

You’d only known each other a few weeks at that stage, and he’d been more observant in that short time than any other man you’d met. At first, you didn’t read into it too much, he’s just doing something nice for you. You told yourself it didn’t matter that this ‘something nice’ was the single nicest thing anyone ever did for you.

You ate your takeout pizzas and talked for hours that night, record player on in the background, sharing stories of years gone by and remembering the person you each used to be. A few stray tears even slipped down your cheek at one point — Joel moved to sit close next to and almost on instinct you rested your head on his shoulder. It was oddly comforting knowing just how vulnerable you could be around him. He was a kind soul, a rather rare find in today’s world, and you found it surprisingly easy to open up to him.

You asked him for a hug that night and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you firmly against him, his chin resting on the top of your head and it was the safest you felt in years. Of course, and next time you don’t have to ask. You smiled into him, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. He eventually pulled back to check on you and planted a hand on your waist; he bid you goodnight with a wink, called you sweetheart and went home, leaving you standing like an idiot, mouth hanging open in a daze and still feeling the heat that had radiated off his palm and the grip of his fingers through your shirt on your skin.

‘Sweetheart’ played in your mind over and over for hours, days, weeks after that — soon enough you acknowledged that you weren’t immune to his charms and you’ve never looked back.

The flowers aren’t only for you to enjoy — you noticed early on that Joel takes great pride in his garden. The lawn always mowed, flower beds always with manicured edges, bees and butterflies in abundance. You’ve spent many hours lounging in the sun just admiring him, your book long abandoned — temples and greying curls damp with sweat, t-shirt clinging to his arms and back, gym shorts showing him off deliciously, all while he potters around tending to his garden, refilling a bird bath, touching up the fence and spewing out endless plant facts.

He even expanded the bed of tulips, planting bulbs of different varieties and an array of colours — ones with frilly edges, ones with pointed petals, and even blooms that look almost hand-painted in their beauty. He told you he’d been planning this for months, long before he met you, but you knew that part of him was doing this for you, too.

Late one night he finally told you the red and pink of your birthday flowers represented eternal love and affection, and sheepishly admitted he only remembered that once he’d already knocked on your door. He had hoped you wouldn’t ask him the meanings that night and figured there must’ve been someone looking out for him when you simply accepted them with a dazzling smile and that twinkle in your eyes. He wonders how things might have played out differently if you had asked him that night.

Now it’s Joel’s birthday and you want to do something special for him — so here you are, lying underneath him in a matching set, simple and white and covered in daisies. Propped up by his elbows, he traces over a flower right in the centre of your bra.

“You gonna tell me anything about them?”

“Daisies supposedly represent innocence and purity…” His voice fades off as he trails his fingers featherlight across you, goosebumps rising in his wake. With a faint smile pulling at his lips, he lifts his gaze to look you in the eye. “But something tells me you already knew that.”

He leans to kiss you, tongue licking into your mouth and you feel him pressed against your core, thick and heavy. You spread your legs wider to accommodate him and he grinds his hips into you, your fingers raking through his hair and tugging ever so slightly. He pulls back and starts snaking a hand down between you, now taken by the same applique daisies on your panties.

“Not sure those words apply right now, though,” he whispers to you, knuckles grazing the fabric.

“What, ‘innocence and purity’? You don’t think that’s true about daisies?”

“I ain’t talkin’ bout the daisies, sweetheart.” He smirks at you and you simply grin at him and huff a laugh in response as he shuffles down your body to pull your panties down your legs.

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[pinkishwrld]

lower belly tattoos by pinkishwrld 🤍

hi guys! im back with more simlish tattoos!!! <3

sooo they aren't the best quality because of how small they are so some swatches are a little weird looking as you can see from the catalog! but i like small dainty tattoos so i didn't want them any bigger than this :( but i still hope you guys like 🩷

some details ✨

- custom thumbnails for each swatch including an english translation

-enabled for YA-ELDER.

-for all genders.

-enabled for both masculine and feminine frames but work best with feminine frames.

-14 swatches

-base game compatible

-located, tattoo upper arm (left) if you don't have any cas organizers I would recommend these by me <3

TOU

Do NOT steal or claim as your own.

D0 NOT edit my tattoo or use as your base.

Do NOT put behind a paywall.

any issues please lmk & tag me if you use i would love to see!!!!!!

credit to all cc creators for the cc shown in the picture & credit to franzilla for the font 🤍

grab it here for free <3

youtube | twitter | patreon | pinterest | tiktok | instagram |

[skydaemon]

Okay I’m awake again and something that really stood out to me with TSC was how different jean and neil are as protagonists. I expected they would be, but the thing I really noticed was how distinct their reactions were.

So, these books are HEAVY. There are many many traumatic events and the characters spend a lot of time in high-stress situations. Even when they’re not being attacked or threatened or XYZ, they’re often in a state of heightened physiological arousal (their sympathetic nervous system is going haywire). As a psychologist, the thing I find really interesting is that we see very different reactions that are all aligned with different adrenal responses, and I wanted to talk about it.

As a baseline, when your sympathetic nervous system is activated, you typically experience what some psychologists call the four Fs. Fight, flight, freeze, and/or fawn (some people use another word here but I don’t like it and think it’s less accurate to the situation). These can occur simultaneously or alone. And of the four characters who are most showing this response are the ones who are consistently in the highest stress situations, but who are also traumatised in such a way that even when they’re not actively in danger their sympathetic nervous system is overreactive and heightened.

So first off, we have Neil. He’s pretty clearly shown to have two responses: flight and fight. For his entire childhood, he’s been fleeing from danger and in the earlier parts of AFTG, we see this response - he tries to run as far as he can possibly get from anything that might be a risk. As a side point, this is pretty clearly a learned response from his mother. As Neil begins to feel more secure and his flight response is impeded (he can’t run away) we see the emergence of his other primary adrenal response - fight. I don’t feel like I need to explain this one, tbh, we’ve all seen how he runs his mouth. Fight is also typically shown when you believe you can defeat whatever’s threatening you, so I love what this says about how his confidence develops across the trilogy.

Then you have Andrew. He’s not a POV protagonist but I feel like his response might be the most obvious. His primary responses are fight and freeze (Andrew Minyard runs from/fawns for no man). Fight is pretty obvious - he’s a very violent person - but I feel like the most clear example of this is stopping Riko from attacking Neil. Andrew is obviously wired and his instinctive response is to protect. I love that for him. His other primary response, unfortunately, is freeze. Based on the most obvious time we see it (during Drake's attack), this is probably a response he developed as a child, before he felt strong/safe enough to fight back. God, these books make me sad sometimes.

Next is Kevin. He has a slightly more varied response - i can see the argument for him freezing, although i wouldnt say it's a primary response - but his main two responses are fight and fawn. Fight isn't necessarily literal, btw - the most obvious example is covering his tattoo. His fawn response is slightly more expanded on in TSC (mild spoilers if you haven't read that yet) when we see him responding to Riko's attack by begging first Riko and then Jean to intercede and stop the violence. he's trying to appeal to their affection for him, which is absolutely heartbreaking. Kevin i love you.

And finally, we have Jean, whose primary responses are only really made clear in TSC, although they are backed up by his appearances in the trilogy - freeze and fawn. We see freezing in Jean's response to sympathetic nervous system arousal, often from hearing about or recalling upsetting events/information. He closes in on himself and becomes unresponsive. Fawn is slightly more complicated, as we see it somewhat throughout AFTG. when he's loyal to riko and doing things he thinks riko will like in hopes of reducing any potential pain/threat he will experience, i'd call that fawning. an example at usc is him getting on his knees and handing coach rhemann his racket - he's not just submitting to punishment, he's trying to be helpful and well-behaved in hopes of lessening it. it's honestly a really strong response from him and it absolutely breaks my heart. jean in tsc is really struggling and i hope the last book brings him some peace. i also find it really painful that he's the only one of these boys without a fight response - he's never felt capable of winning against his abusers. i really hope the trojans and bee are able to help change that.

[alastorslittledoe]

Hazbin Hotel Men with a Crush on You

|| HeadCanon ||

Pairing: Alastor, Lucifer, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Adam, Vox (x reader)

Tags: Fluff, slight smut, pining, flirting, kissing

Alastor’s method of flirting is similar to him hunting his victims. In fact, the only discernible difference is that he isn’t trying to kill you. Would be an enemies to lovers trope, for sure. He’d constantly do shit to freak you out (like waiting around the corner in his giant ass demon form) just to get your heart racing and then pull you close. Alastor probably wouldn’t even realise he liked you until he pulled you on his lap to apologise and you ended up in his bedroom. He just thought he liked playing with you, just a little bit more than everyone else.

Nicknames include: darling, my dear, little doe, sweetheart

Vox is literally obsessed with you from the minute he meets you. That man watches you everywhere, it would be creepy if you weren’t aware and didn’t give him a show every night in your bed. He insists you come and stay with him just to keep a ‘better eye on you’ and ‘keep you safe’. And while all of that is true, it’s also so he can jack off to you while you prance about the screen for him. Eventually you’d sneak in the room during one of his broadcasts to show him just how much you enjoyed him watching you as an under the table favour. He considers you ‘his’ from that moment on, and his obsessive tendencies don’t waver. In fact, they get worse, if possible.

Nicknames include: doll, dollface, sweetheart

Lucifer is such a sweetheart, he wants to talk to you about EVERYTHING, anything, literally you could talk about stale bread to the man and he would watch you with heart eyes. However, if anyone tried to point his affection out, he’d firstly deny it, and then quickly threaten death on anyone who attempted to tell you. Because that was his moment. If anyone in hell attempted to fuck with you, he’d be there immediately. This man can flirt, too. You might as well be walking around with ‘horny’ tattooed on your forehead. You’d probably be the one to kiss him first, and he’d be mad and insist you stole his moment, before quickly dragging you to bed and showing you exactly why Lilith left Adam.

Nicknames include: my love, sweetheart, pretty baby, honey

Angel Dust would immediately catch on to your feelings. He’d constantly tease you about the fact that you liked him (because he has the insane hots for you too) and HARDCORE flirt with you any chance he got. You’d have to earn your place as one of his best friends before anything happened, though. He’d be happy for one night stands but it takes you a while to convince him that you want more than that and you weren’t going to hurt him (‘: But once you did he’d literally be all over you, in front of anyone and everyone. Which you’re more than happy to oblige to, of course.

Nicknames Include: Sugar, doll, baby, babycakes, slut (with extra affection), sexy

Husk is literally the most oblivious man on the planet. You could get naked in front of him and, while he’d definitely get turned on, he’d just ask you where your clothes are. But, he’d do little acts of service, giving you the last shot, ensuring you ended up in bed after a long night, letting you stroke his ears and even teaching you how to mix drinks when you’d shown an interest. And Husk never let anyone behind the bar. His crushes are definitely more lowkey, he’d be more concerned that Alastor would do something to you. But with a little coaxing, he’d be absolute putty in your hands and admit he’d been feeling this way for months.

Nicknames include: babe, beautiful, hot stuff, love

Sir Pentious…oh boy. He’ll follow you around like a little puppy, trying to do everything for you ‘did you need that jar opening, my love? what? no, i never called you anything!’. Acts of service are his thing. He’s literally the sweetest though and if you ever complained about anything he’d try and fix it immediately, or just get into his death machine and kill it. You’d lost many outfits to him misunderstanding the frustration of not being able to find something to wear. Overall, he’d kiss you absolutely wasted because that would be the only time he’d work up the courage to do it. You’d quickly drag him into a sex room to see what those two dicks are really about.

Nicknames include: you think this man has the confidence to call you nicknames without calling EVERYONE the same nickname for a year? You’re wrong. (the occasional ‘my love’, ‘my heart’, ‘babe’ does slip out though)

Adam will literally kill himself before admitting anything to you. He’ll tease, taunt, fuck, and lie to get you to admit that you love him before he even comes close to admitting he likes you just a little bit. But when you finally do, he slowly makes small changes. Stops flirting with all the angels, strictly has sex with you and would accidentally call you his girlfriend one day to Lute. Of course you’d happen to be standing in earshot and he’d immediately deny anything ever happened. But from then on you’d refer to him as your boyfriend and he doesn’t stop you. Plus, the sex gets really good when he thinks he owns you.

Nicknames include: babe, sugartits, bitch, slut, whore (all in good fun…you think), and when he’s rarely feeling sentimental ‘princess’