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just-jordie-things · 1 year ago

Text

the subject of every photo - fushiguro megumi

word count: 5,555 (i'm so proud of that) warnings: swearin' summary: a photoshoot at the pumpkin patch isn't his ideal day, but at least megumi gets to spend time with you. and maybe he'll take a few pictures anyway. (a/n): really delayed pumpkin themed fic with the softest boy but i needed to write this ok a greater power called upon me to do it

___

“It’ll be fun!” Nobara had claimed, although her tone was more threatening than bubbly. “It’s just a little photoshoot at a pumpkin patch, why so gloomy about it?”

And it wasn’t that Megumi was gloomy about it, because he wasn’t. It would be immature to pout about a simple hangout among friends. The thing was… he just didn’t care for the whole pumpkin patch thing that really seemed to take off on instagram and tiktok these last few years.

He hadn’t carved a pumpkin since he was just a tot, and even then he’d only done it to satisfy Gojo’s bonkers need to participate in every holiday tradition. He never particularly liked scooping the guts and seeds out, and as a kid wasn’t decent enough with a blade to carve a face that actually looked interesting. Not to mention, it was always chilly in late October, making it insufferable to wander around outside solely to pick out a big orange vegetable.

Really, if he wanted a pumpkin that bad, he would’ve picked out a discount one from the grocery store. But really, he didn’t want a pumpkin.

Nonetheless, Nobara had bought four disposable cameras— which he didn’t know were even still a thing— told everyone to wear their cutest, coziest outfit, and pretty much demanded they all go spend the afternoon at one of the more popular farms in town. As with most plans, Megumi begrudgingly agreed.

Even under three layers— his coat, his sweater, and the long sleeved tee he wore underneath them both— the crisp air still pricked at his skin and left goosebumps in it’s wake. It was hard to enjoy being out here when he was fighting the urge to shiver.

“It’s pretty cold for this, huh?”

Megumi wipes away the resting bitch face he’d been making, opting instead for as much neutrality as he could muster. He turns to (y/n), only to find her peering up at him from behind her little plastic camera. His brows wrinkle.

“Don’t take a picture of me at that angle”

He puts his hand over the lens and pushes it away before she could even think about snapping the photo, and she chuckles a bit at his boyish antics. He almost cracks a smile when she’s peeking up at him with her cheeks tinged pink from the cold. He squashes it before his lip could curl too far.

“Well what side do you prefer then?” She teases, shifting around to stand before him and raising her shitty little camera again. “Full portrait? Or perhaps a side profile?”

Megumi rolls his eyes, but when he starts to walk away, she’s quick to follow. He doesn’t dislike her company.

Nobara is off farther in the field, ordering Yuuji to pick up as many pumpkins as he can for the perfect picture. It was only a matter of time before she came over and started barking at the two of them to make the perfect poses as well.

“So why do you hate pumpkin patches?” (y/n) breaks their silence, but when he turns to her again, she’s fixing her camera on a sparrow pecking away at a less than ripe pumpkin.

“I don’t hate pumpkin patches,” He replies, but even he has to admit the dryness in his voice makes it seem a bit unbelievable. “It’s just…” He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, but he’s quick to straighten his gaze when he finds her full attention on him now. “Cold” He finishes, lamely, but it’s not untrue.

He fiddles with the plastic camera in his hands.

“Yeah,” (y/n) agrees from beside him. “Would’ve been nice to do this a few weeks ago, when it was still sunny”

Megumi nods back at her, unsure of what else to say.

He hoped that they weren’t doomed to only speak about the weather today. However that meant he’d probably have to put the effort in to change the subject. His palms began to sweat.

It was their day off, so he didn’t want to strike up a conversation about work, and preferably he’d like to avoid the subject of sorcery altogether. So that narrowed down the options by a lot.

He knew that like him, she liked to read. But she was more into the fantasy stuff, and the only book off the top of his head he could make conversation about was The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe and he was fairly certain that wasn’t currently on her shelf.

Was it always this hard or was he just overthinking it?

“Wait, stay right there!”

Before he can suck it up and ask how her most recent assignment went, (y/n’s) throwing her arms up at him to make him freeze in place. Megumi startles at the sudden movement and holler, but he listens and stays put while she backs up a few steps.

“The sun is peeking out,” She explains, before steadying her camera in front of her face. “The lighting is great” She says with a grin, and then without warning, she snaps the photo.

Megumi wants to complain, he didn’t even have time to smile or pose or anything. When that picture got printed, he’d just be a guy standing there, probably with a resting bitch face. Nobara wouldn’t be happy.

But (y/n’s) still grinning as she lowers the camera.

“Too bad we gotta wait so long to see ‘em,” She says as she heads back towards him. “It’d be nice to—”

“Stop moving”

He’s more blunt than she is, already lifting his camera and peeking through the small lens. (y/n) gets the hint and retraces her steps to fit properly in the frame.

“Better?” She asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder dramatically before posing with a bright smile.

Megumi snaps the photo without warning, although he’s sure that this one will turn out much better than the one she’d taken of him. For one, she’s smiling, but he’s also certain that she’s much more photogenic than he is.

She’s at his side again as they wander around the patch, fiddling to fit the camera into the pocket of her coat. It takes him a few minutes to find his courage again, but eventually Megumi clears his throat and tries to spark conversation.

“Gojo used to take a million pictures of me and Tsumiki”

That seems to be exactly the right thing to say, because (y/n’s) entire demeanor lights up as she looks up at him with wide eyes.

“Really?” She laughs softly at the mental picture. “Did he keep, like, photo albums and stuff?”

“Oh yeah,” Megumi snorted, recalling the rows of photo books on the living room bookshelf when he was young. “Dozens, at least. It was like he couldn’t commit a thing to memory, always had to document everything”

When he was young, it was obnoxious to always have a camera shoved in his face. Now though, he wonders if the crazy bastard still had those albums.

“That’s sweet,” (y/n) muses, wandering off a bit to check out a display of gourds, all varying in shapes and colors. “I bet there’s tons of embarrassing ones of you, too” She teases.

Megumi doesn’t give her an answer, instead silently watching as she picks up a large green vegetable with a curly top. She holds the long end in her hand, before turning to face Megumi with the plump end out, holding it like it was a very deformed gun.

He rolls his eyes at the joke, but just as she looks away, he snaps a photo.

(y/n) seems to not even notice, setting the gourd back on the display and turning back to Megumi to continue their conversation.

“Was he a scrapbook mom?”

He chuckles, and he wants to deny it, but he can’t. Even if he tried he thinks she’d see through it with how he smiles with all of his teeth. She’s laughing before he even explains.

“He made one scrapbook, ever,” He tells her. “And you have to swear to never tell them this,” He adds quickly. (y/n) doesn’t have to ask to know who he means, and she simply drags her thumb and forefinger over her lips as if to zip them up. “It took him weeks. I think the kitchen table was covered in all of his crafts for a solid month”

“You’re kidding!” She laughs louder, loving the image of her mentor hunched over a table while he glued down photos and ribbon to pretty sheets of paper.

“I wish I was. I think it’s why he only ever made one,” Megumi shrugged. “But it’s… a lot. Every sheet was three dimensional. The spine of the scrapbook was stretched so wide the thing couldn’t even sit flat”

He knows that all of the pictures in that book would be embarrassing now. Gojo liked to document every first— first day of school, first science project, first A+, along with more ridiculous milestones, like when Megumi chopped all of his hair off in the fifth grade and looked ridiculous. If he remembered correctly, Gojo glued that hair in the book too, as if it were his baby hairs. That scrapbook really should be burned, but a part of him wishes he could show her now, just to prove how messy it really is.

“I’d do anything to get my hands on it,” (y/n) sighed, almost as if she could read his mind. “My parents did some stuff like that, but they certainly weren’t obsessive”

“Obsession is all he knows” Megumi mumbles, and he doesn’t mean to be funny, but she laughs, and it makes his chest feel warm.

“I still think it’s sweet,” She assures him, and then she stops in their slow and aimless walk, kneeling down to tie the shoelaces on her boot. Megumi waits beside her. He cared much more for her company than he did seeing the pumpkin patch. “He probably just wanted to save lots of memories of you guys when you were little. All parents say it goes by fast”

She goes to tie the other boot, and Megumi can only stand there in soft surprise. Sure, deep down he always considered Gojo his parent, because he simply just was. But no one else referred to their relationship that way, the others always called him teacher or mentor. But (y/n) must’ve understood that it was more than that.

He’s pulling his camera out again and stealing another quick picture while she was still focused on her shoes.

When she stands, he’s got the camera tucked back into his pocket and an innocent look on his face.

“Want to take a picture over there?” She asks, pointing to the tower of hay bales set up mostly for photos. Originally it was for children to climb and play on, but it’s purpose was far more often served as a posing station.

Megumi simply nods, and follows her as she races over the tower. It shouldn’t have surprised him when she started climbing the thing right away. Surely Nobara had been over here earlier, striking a pose with one hand on her hip and the other on the stack of hay, but not (y/n), who was almost to the top.

“You’re not gonna fall, right?” Megumi asks unsurely as she’s grabbing at the highest bale.

“I’m a trained athlete!” She shrieks back, clearly offended.

“I’m more worried about you destroying the play area” Megumi retorted, his lip curling upwards against his will. He can’t help but take a picture before she’s settled. Her hair’s a mess and her limbs are everywhere as she tries to steady herself on the wobbling tower, but it’s a perfect picture nonetheless.

“This is great!” She shouts back at him, before stretching her hands above her head. “Take my photo like this!”

It’s silly, it’s childish, but Megumi’s laughing to himself as he snaps a couple.

Somehow she manages to climb down without toppling the entire thing, and they quickly make their way across the pumpkin patch before an employee could scold them for being grown adults playing on the children’s setup.

Megumi finds it easier to talk with her the longer they walk around, aimlessly eyeing pumpkins without committing to picking any out, taking photos here and there, but mostly they just wander around and talk. Yuji and Nobara seem so wrapped up in the full on photoshoot they were having with each other that it could seem like they’d completely forgotten the other pair, but Megumi didn’t mind one bit.

Hang outs never turned out like this. Nobara tended to cling to (y/n) like a lifeline. She was always dragging her off to the next boutique on the strip or game in the arcade or exhibit at the museum— wherever they went, it seemed as soon as Megumi would get a minute of alone time with her, Nobara would steal her away. It was deflating, but he couldn’t be mad, they were best friends after all.

Today was like a gloomy day miracle. He almost felt spoiled having the last half hour with her all to himself. All of her laughter and smiles were only for him. It warmed up his chilled hands until soon, even the breeze wouldn’t make him shiver.

(y/n) didn’t appear to have the same effect, shaking like a leaf every time the wind picked up. She always shrank into the collar of her coat and shoved her hands into her pockets, and after a few times, Megumi couldn’t stand to see her freezing.

“Let’s go inside for a bit,” He nodded his head towards the small shop. (y/n) pouted back at him, before glancing around the pumpkin patch, clearly looking for their friends. “They won’t be upset that we went inside because we’re cold,” Megumi chuckles to himself, before gently pushing his hand against the small of her back so that he’d follow her. “I’ll text Itadori” He adds for good measure.

After a moment of hesitation she agreed and walked along with him, but just slow enough that he left his hand on her lower back. Just because it was nice to be so close to him.

Stepping into the shop was an instant rush of fresh warm air, and she finally felt like she could stretch her fingers. There was a small bakery inside with only a couple of tables, but without anyone else inside it was perfectly quaint to warm up in.

“I’m going to order a hot chocolate, do you want anything?”

The offer was sweet, but she’s already making her way to the counter, set on a mission as soon as the alluring smell of apples and cinnamon wafted past her nose.

“I could go for a coffee” Megumi hummed as he followed.

He’s ordering for the both of them as soon as a clerk arrives behind the counter, two drinks along with the enormous bear claw in the glass case that (y/n) hadn’t torn her eyes away from since stepping up to the counter. She tries to fight him when he pulls out his wallet but he’s faster at tapping his card to the reader than she is at hitting him.

Even once they sit down with their drinks and the pastry that takes up most of the table space between them, she argues with him about the payment, and all he can do is shake his head— and maybe smile to himself just a little bit. After realizing arguing is futile, she decides that as long as he eats some of the bear claw, she can forgive him.

And they continue to chat, about dumb things, about nothing, about everything. Megumi learns all about the book series that she is reading, along with her plans for getting promoted faster, and that her dream pet is a sugar glider.

“That’s ridiculous,” He mumbles through a mouthful of almond paste and cinnamon. “When would you ever have the time to take care of something like that?”

“That’s why it’s a dream pet, dummy,” (y/n) rolls her eyes at him. “Doesn’t have to be realistic. Don’t you have a dream pet?”

“I kinda already have a lot of pets”

“Oh, right,” She laughs to herself, and he thinks he can see a hint of a blush dusting over her cheeks. Was she embarrassed? He wasn’t sure exactly. But it was really cute. “Well if there’s ever a sugar glider shikigami, please summon it for me” She tells him in all seriousness, and Megumi bites his tongue as he agrees to the condition immediately.

He pulls out his camera for the tenth time that day and rests his elbows on the table as he brings it to his face. (y/n’s) eyes widen before she’s covering half her face with one hand.

“Are you taking a picture of me right now?” She hisses anxiously, before shaking her head at him.

“Duh” He mutters out as he tilts forward and back, trying to find just the right angle of lighting.

“I’m eating—”

“So? Not like you have food on your face. Hush. Go back to eating or something”

“I am not letting you take a picture of me while I eat”

“Alright then just sit there then”

She’s grabbing her paper cup of hot cocoa to use as a shield, but it’s too late. Megumi clicks the button and she can hear the soft whirring coming from inside the camera.

The lens cuts to black and Megumi pulls the camera away, eyeing the little roll of numbers next to the lens.

“I’m out already,” He says, tossing it onto the table. “Guess I win”

(y/n) laughs to herself.

“I didn’t know this was a competition,” She takes a sip of her warm beverage before setting it back down. “But I can’t believe you finished before me”

“How many do you have left?”

Curiously, (y/n) pulls the camera out of her pocket and eyes the tape with the amount of film left. She frowns as she looks back up at him.

“Just one,” She answers, and her frown tilts into a small, soft smile before she asks, “Do you want to take one together?”

___

Greedily, Nobara snatches the stack of freshly printed photos out of Megumi’s hands. (y/n) and Yuji are too busy sharing theirs with each other, and Nobara had been dying to know what photos Megumi and (y/n) had taken on their last outing. By the time the group had met up and gone home, their cameras were already full, and she knew she hadn’t been the subject of a single one of them.

“I swear Fushiguro if these are all dumb pictures of pumpkins, I’ll—”

But her threat falls short after sliding through the first three pictures.

The first was (y/n) on the path, just standing and smiling. It wasn’t special, there wasn’t even a pumpkin in the background, but it was cute.

The second was a picture of her crouched down and tying her shoe. Her face wasn’t even in the picture, her hair was hanging in front of it, but if you squinted you could barely make out the tip of her nose.

Then the third was another candid, where she was pretending to hold a gourd like a gun.

“What the—?”

Nobara flips through to the next one in the stack, and yet again there’s a candid of her climbing up the side of a hay bale tower. At least that one captured her smile. She shouldn’t have been surprised to see the fifth one in the stack was also of (y/n), this time sitting on top of the haystack victoriously

“You’ve got to be kidding me, dude”

“Okay give them back—!” Megumi tries to grab the stack of pictures from Nobara before she could keep being nosey, but she deflects fast, swiveling to turn away from him and keep skipping through the photos.

He shouldn’t have let her get her hands on them to begin with, but it was too late now. If he caused too big of a scene, Yuji and (y/n) would notice. He didn’t exactly want all of his pictures on display.

So Nobara kept flipping.

One was of her lifting up the tiniest of pumpkins— definitely the runt of the whole patch. It fit in the palm of her hand but she seemed delighted by it.

The next few were just of her walking around, nothing too exciting in the frame. Just the occasional pumpkin in the background.

There was a decent one taken from inside the shop. (y/n) was still in the frame but her back was turned as she eyed the glass case of sweets. Nobara could almost let Megumi off the hook for that one. Almost.

And then the last photo was of her laughing, the blurry image of a paper cup waving in the space beside her face. Her eyes are on the camera, so she must’ve known he was taking that picture, but judging by the surprise in her expression, it was easy to conclude she was trying to hide behind that cup.

Once she’d ogled every picture, Nobara finally turned back to Megumi. Her brows twitched and furrowed, lips parted in shock, not a single word spoken as she handed the stack back to him. It’s practically shoved towards him, but he doesn’t complain, just snatches them back as fast as he can.

He wants to find a way to quickly and discreetly ask her to keep this to herself, but before he can find the words, she’s gawking at him again.

“Every single one?” Nobara asks in a mutter.

“We hung out the whole time, okay? It's not like—” Megumi tries to defend himself, but it’s no use. Nobara’s already speaking over him again.

“It’s almost pathetic, dude. Just ask her out like a normal person”

His brows almost raise to his hairline in shock. Here he thought she was about to call him out for being a creep or something. But no, her disgust only lied in his pathetic pining and lack of action. Maybe he should have assumed that already.

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything before Nobara’s marching over to Yuji and demanding to see his photos as well. Megumi’s left reeling from the whole interaction, the humiliation still lingering in his gut.

The feeling remains as (y/n) makes her way to him, her own fresh stack of photos in her hands. There’s a nervous sort of smile on her face as she glances back at Yuji and Nobara, double checking that they were out of earshot.

“They took that pretty seriously, huh?” Her voice was still low, careful not to draw the attention of their rambunctious friends. “Yuji takes great photos, don’t get me wrong. But I think she should pay him for his time”

There’s some relief in his chest when he cracks a smile, a small laugh coming out. He could only imagine the quality of Nobara and Yuji’s photos, certainly prepped for instagram.

“I bet she still puts filters over all of them” He mutters back, and (y/n) stifles a giggle behind her hand, but nods her head in agreement.

“Can we leave now or what?” Nobara calls out, already dragging Yuji by the arm to leave the store. “I want to get boba before home”

“Boba sounds good,” (y/n) agrees softly. “Let’s go”

As the red head continued to drag her friend despite him arguing that he was an adult who could walk by himself, she turned and aggressively whispered something to him. After her obvious threatening, she glances back at (y/n) and Megumi, which Yuji promptly follows her pointed glance. Suddenly after that he was upright and speed walking along with her.

(y/n) and Megumi share a baffled look as their friends so blatantly ditch them, but they don’t exactly pick up the pace to follow.

“So, did you get good photos?” Megumi asks, tucking his own away in his pocket. Foolishly, he hoped if they were out of sight she wouldn’t ask him about them.

“Oh,” (y/n) chuckles nervously, holding her stack of pictures in both hands. She tilts them towards herself so he can’t see, and Megumi raises a brow at the secrecy. “It’s kind of embarrassing, actually” She says sheepishly.

Her cheeks flood with color, and Megumi can’t help the curious grin that begins to stretch across his face.

“Embarrassing?” He repeats, sounding horrifically hopeful. (y/n) sighs, and sticks her arm out, handing him the stack. He’s quick to take them and start flipping through, eyeing her anxious demeanor in his peripheral vision.

“Yuji’s probably going to tell you anyway. But… they’re sort of all..”

His steps slow further after quickly sliding through the bunch of pictures.

The first was at the entrance of the pumpkin patch, with the cute sign with the family name painted on it, and just under it was him. He wasn’t paying attention, and quite frankly he looked rather bored standing there. She must’ve taken it while he was still pouting about having to go.

The next photo was of the sparrow poking at the rotted pumpkin, and he had to admit the way she captured it actually was sort of cute.

The third was the photo Megumi dreaded seeing. He recognized it as soon as he saw himself standing on the thin path of dirt. He grimaced as he looked closer to see just how bad it was. But to his surprise, he wasn’t scowling like he thought he’d been. He was actually smiling.

Which was odd… he certainly didn’t remember smiling for that picture. He clearly remembered being upset because he hadn’t tried to look nice for her picture at all.

He glances at (y/n) to gauge her reaction so far, but she was holding her expression at a neutral state, waiting for him to react first.

So Megumi goes back to the photos, and flips to the next one. Which was… also him. It wasn’t anything special, just him standing there, but he was smiling a little bit in that one, too.

When the following is also a candid of him with that dumb little smile, he glances over at (y/n) again, raising a brow at her in silent question.

She’s a tough one to crack, but the corner of her lips gives her away as she tries to bite back a smile. His own smile is unable to be hidden as he flips through a few more photos.

And to his shock and delight, they’re all him. Him while he was picking up that big pumpkin she dared him to, him while he was drinking his coffee and not paying attention, him just standing and doing nothing in particular, but for whatever reason, she’d used up all her film on capturing it.

His favorite is the one of the both of them. She’d given him the camera so he could stretch his arm out and snap the photo selfie style. They’re sitting at the small table, two paper cups and the enormous bear claw between them, but pushed aside as (y/n) leans across the tabletop in order to better center herself. She’s grinning from ear to ear, her chin set in one hand while the other holds up a peace sign. Megumi’s smile isn’t as wide but nevertheless it’s genuine, and anyone looking at the picture would know. It’s a great picture of the two of them, and he thinks it’s probably the first, too.

Megumi hadn’t realized he’d gone through the whole stack till he flips to the next one and is met with the first photo, but once he does, (y/n’s) quick to reach out and take them back. She doesn’t snatch them as aggressively as Nobara had, she handles them gently, careful not to leave an ugly smudge or crease.

Megumi watches with eager intrigue as she tucks the edges together neatly, making the stack smooth in her hands.

“Sorry if that’s creepy— is that creepy?” She turns to him suddenly, full of worry that she’d crossed a line, but Megumi just chuckles, and shakes his head at her.

“Not creepy” He muses, his soft smile remaining as he dips his hand into his pocket, retrieving his own small collection of photos.

He stares at them for an indecisive minute, clenching and unclenching his jaw, working up the courage to make the smallest of gestures. When he does hold them out to her, he still doesn’t say a thing. His throat is too dry and hot to even try. He thinks it would be worse if his voice cracked right now.

(y/n) smiles as she tucks her pictures away in her purse with great care so that she could better look through the pictures he’d taken. His face flushes with color when she finally takes them from him. Even the small brush of the tips of her fingers against his has Megumi’s breath catching in his throat.

And he holds his breath as she eagerly slides through the stack of photos. His throat is far too constricted now to show any sign of life. He very well could pass out at any moment. He just hopes she’d leave him there in a heap on the ground.

The relief of the exhale doesn’t come until she begins to giggle. It’s soft at first, almost under her breath as she continues admiring his photos, but then it erupts into something brilliant and bubbly, as if it was coming out of her uncontrollably. As lovely as the reaction was, it didn’t do much to ease Megumi’s nerves. They began to sink their teeth into his heart and gut, and he knew that any minute now, his knees would give out.

When her laughter calms down and she finally looks up at him, the surprise is evident on his features when he sees her colored cheeks and nervous smile. She hands the stack back to him, and Megumi’s quick to tuck them into his pocket, where maybe he they’d disappear forever, or at least just from the front of their minds.

“That’s pretty cute, huh?” She asks, an aftershock of quiet laughter shaking her shoulders and crinkling the corners of her eyes. This time, Megumi can’t help the way he laughs with her, but he does duck his head bashfully.

(y/n) thinks it’s all the more cuter, how he resorts to his nervous habit of rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but directly at her. She wonders if he even knows he’s doing it. With a surge of confidence, she rocks on her feet.

“Wanna ditch our friends and get lunch or something?”

He shrugs and nods, thinking anything would be better sustenance than the too-sugary drinks that Nobara had an addiction to. But the implication of the question dawns on him too late, and suddenly his eyes are widening as he realizes what she really meant.

“You mean— like, a date?”

It’s so damn cute the way his brows furrow and then raise ever so slightly, waiting without a single ounce of patience for her clarification. (y/n’s) giggling again as she nods her head, putting him out of his misery.

“Yeah, like a date,” She repeats teasingly.

Megumi nods his head again, this time faster, as if there was a time limit to her offer and he was worried he’d already wasted too much of it. Her smile brightens and there’s a small but noticeable skip in her step as they head off in a new direction together.

“Now maybe it won’t be so creepy when our friends see those pictures” She says, and Megumi can’t decipher if she’s messing with him or not. The look he gives her barely hides his panic.

“They’re gonna see them?”

“What do you think they’re talking about right now?” (y/n) retorts, knowing for a fact that Yuji and Nobara were gossiping away about the pair’s photos that consisted only of each other.

The thought makes Megumi’s face feel hot, and there’s no discretion in the way he tugs at his collar. The idea makes him nervous, his stomach flipping excessively. That said, he knew with the amount of gossip those two chatterboxes would generate, there was plenty of time to add a date to today’s agenda.

“They probably won’t even notice we’re gone”

(y/n) nods in agreement.

“They’ll be grateful to have the time for girl talk,” She teases.

With purpose, she steps closer to him so she could link her arm around his, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow and shyly smiling up at him. Megumi returns the smile, his arm hooking a little further to keep her tucked next to him as close as he wanted. It was another chilly day outside, but he could almost forget about it with the way her closeness sparked warmth in his chest that flooded throughout his whole body. He hoped he’d get to do this for the rest of their day—

“So… where do we want to go?”

—and more days to come. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

#fushiguro megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi imagine #fushiguro megumi x reader fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #megumi brainrot

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diejager · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! Your works are really great could you please write a Non-Con For Philipp Graves? 🦅 EAGLE SCREECH

Shackled

Pairing: Philip Graves x fem!reader

CW: CONSENSUAL NON-CON, DUB-CON, DARK, SMUT, P in V, creampie, unprotected sex, BDSM, leather cuffs, torture/interrogation, rough sex, soft Graves, kinda aftercare?, tell me if I missed any. WC: 1.6k

You shuddered, the hair on your skin standing high from the cool air of your isolation room. You were strung up by your hands, leather cuffs wrapped snugly around your wrists with the short chain hooked over the claw of a clasp, holding your weight firmly. Two other chains linked the cuffs of your ankle, spreading you open for whoever would walk into the cell. You flushed in shame and embarrassment, naked in the cold cell, tied to the ceiling and spread open by leather and chain shackles.

You were weak and vulnerable, unable to fight off anyone or anything that’d come in the room and the low temperature made your numb, fingers and toes curling in an attempt to stave off the cold. Squirming would be useless, hips swaying and legs kicking in all ways would make you waste energy, precious energy that could be used to escape your imprisonment when - if - you were free from your restraints. You grumbled, staring at the metal door, eyes burning the hate and anger into the door.

Sudden, loud steps heading towards your cell had you biting back a flinch, imposing and strong steps made to scare you, to intimidate their captives. You especially, the commander’s prize. Keys jingling, followed by the click of the lock, the door cracked open and you caught a foot breaching the entry of your room.

“Shaking, ain’t y’a, sweetheart?”

The familiar drawl in his words, the cocky and teasing tone he used in every visit had you wishing he could shut up, but you were more annoyed that he was so pretty. His cobalt, blue eyes framed by luscious lashes and a caramel-like tan to his skin, glistening under the white light of your cell, thick brows and beautiful, light brown hair. Age had only made him prettier, his rough stubble and rugged wrinkles made him look sinfully appealing, and the scar that stretched when he smirked added to his appeal.

Phillip fucking Graves.

You glared at him, burning into him your shameful anger. He only smiled, closing the door behind to give himself a bit of privacy with a lazy kick. He approached you brazenly, arms crossed over his chest as he admired your nakedness. His eyes wandered over your perky nipples and round breasts, down the valley to your navel and between your open thighs. His eyes narrowed, a lustful gleam when he placed a hand on your inner thigh, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your freezing skin.

“Why the frown? I thought we were getting somewhere,” Graves cooed, standing flush against you, hands wandering to feel you up.

He ground into you as he chuckled, his cock poking at you from the confines of his cargo pants, the harsh cloth chafing your soft folds. His expressions tempted you, coaxing you to lash out, to scream and fight, to bite down on the finger that lingered too closely to your face and to curse him to hell. Against your better judgement, you let him touch you, his warm palm cupping your cheeks. The harsh pads of his calloused digits drew a line under your eye and down to your sneering lips, pressing softly on your lower lip.

You shuddered from the gentleness of his acts, the almost loving touch with that soothingly calm voice cooing at your current submission. He pushed his thumb into your mouth, the sudden dryness of it had you sucking at his finger, swallowing what little saliva you had left. Your eyes fluttered, taking in the warmth Graves exhumed with a sigh. Your time alone in isolation had you craving warmth and attention, but the nagging part of your brain shook you awake, eyes cracking open and lips pulled back. Your teeth sunk into his finger before he pulled it out with a hiss, waving his hand around to ease the sting off.

“Fuckin’ Christ-” he growled, seeming shocked that you tried to bite him. He frowned at your laugh, the sweet, yet smug sound riling him up.

He backed away, face flushed angrily, he pulled his hand back and backhanded you, throwing your head aside. You groaned, teeth digging into your lower lip, the force he used left your cheek pulsing, burning with the promise of a bruise. You whipped your head back, spitting at him with a red-tinted liquid. You missed horribly, landing your spit on his shoulder rather than his face.

He chuckled, launching himself at you and pressing himself to you, his hands grasping at your scarred skin with hard, bruising grips. Your chest swayed, squirming against him to fight him off from undoing his pants. His cock sprung out, the angry, leaky tip slapping his clothed navel. His hardened length stood proudly, drooling from the slit, down the slight curve and the base, where hung heavy balls, engorged and thick.

“Fucking bitch,” he cursed, forcing himself on you with the vigor and vitriol of a berserker, rutting against your moist pussy lips. “Who’s laughin’ now?”

You jerked, a scream retching out of your throat when you felt his bulbous head bob between your folds, drawing a line of pre up and clit and down your ass. You forgot every thought of taunting your captor, to tire him until he decided to untie you from your hooks and simply cuff your hands to the back of a chair, to be left alone and escape by yourself once Graves was tired of you. You squirmed and fought, feet kicking from their bent position and voice rising to an outraged cry, calling him names that would most likely shame Price.

He cackled, hands holding your waist still, flush against his hard, throbbing cock that drooled over you. His hips pushed off you, pumping himself with a hand as he led it towards your wet cunt, the slipperiness easing his way in. He groaned, mind numb to your screams and cries, he was solely drawn into the heat that wrapped around him, the tightness and the wetness.

He pushed in slowly, taking every second to enjoy the sensation until he bottomed out, hips against thighs and balls to your ass. Graves’ only thought were to fuck you and keep you, maybe drug you into a clumsy and submissive doll, but still having that bratty spitfire. He rolled his hips, grinding the tip of his cock against your cervix, pulling out and slamming back in, the head bruising your ring of muscle.

His chest rumbled with a satisfied hum, ignoring your useless struggle as he fucked you, teeth nipping at your collar, placing red marks on your sweaty skin. Every thrusts had you moaning, body jerking upwards with bouncing tits, your body burned, sweaty and exhausted. Your once cold tenure became boiling hot, the heat from Graves searing its way into you with heavy strokes of his cock. Your toes curled and legs shook, the chains holding you up rippled with the same force as Graves’ strength.

He drove himself deeply, his angry head bruising your cervix, he groaned and grunted, hung on your cunt’s tenseness, throbbing around him with a pulse, tightening and loosening, close to coming, but never really falling from the edge. He lips trailed a line down to your nipples, lips wrapping around your perky button and sucking, the sound as equally erotic and as disgusting. He sucked as if he was searching for milk, rough and toothy, before he let go with a wet pop.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he slurred, pulling back and slamming in with a loud, dirty squelch. “Gonna come, doll? C’mon, don’t be shy.”

You hated how sensual his voice was, how it called to you and coaxed your body to react in ways that he wanted, that he willed, even against your mind’s wishes. Your back arched, cunt pulsing and clinging onto him, the knot in your navel tightening to an unbearable urge. He grew sloppy, his fast and rough pace slacking in haste but still holding on his deep and rough strokes. He was slow but deep-hitting and rough. You mewled, pleasurable sounds pulled from your throat by Graves, moaning and gasping, seemingly asking - pleading - for more, for it to be harder and faster, rougher, but never uttering a word.

When he tilted his hip, changing the position, he rubbed against your g-spot, his bulging veins massaging you while his head pounded your crying cervix. It was all it took for the knot in your core to pop, furling outwards as you clamped down on him, milking him for his worth. You came with an embarrassingly loud cry, leaving a white ring around the base of his cock, under the thickest part of him. He groaned, curling into you as he stuttered, bottoming out as deep as he could before he came, spurting ropes of potent cum from his tightened balls, painting you with the marks of your torture, of your mistake that led to a failed mission. It was your sin, one you’d hold onto you for the rest of your miserable life like a visible scar.

“Fuck, doll,” Graves slid out, his flaccid cock plopping between his soaked thighs. “You all right?”

You hummed, watching him untie your ankles and kneeling to place your feet down before uncurling your wrists. He hissed at the red chafing on your skin, soothing it with kisses and promises of aftercare. He wrapped a blanket around you, holding it over your shoulder for you to grasp, kneeling before you to pick you up, one hand under your knees and the other on your back.

“You were amazing, sweetheart. Thank you for indulging me.”

You giggled softly, dried lips finding his chiselled jaw with fluttering pecks.

“Anything for you, Phil.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog

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dreamgrlarchive · 1 year ago

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High Maintenance 101

Prissy Girl Beauty Regimens 🎀

my prissy girl guide to beauty services and building a beauty lifestyle that fits you 💗

Skincare:

Essential Skincare Routine ❤︎︎

twice daily, in the morning and at night

daytime: gentle cleanser, toner, serum, eye cream, moisturizer, SPF

prep and protect skin

nighttime: double cleansing with oil and cleanser, exfoliation, treatments, moisturizer

wash away the day and help skin accept treatments and actives during your beauty sleep

products will change depending on skin type and goals, but sequence will more or less stay the same

Face Masks + Treatments ❤︎︎

Face Masks -

typically done at home 1-3x/week

clay, gel, mud, cream, liquid

my fav masks at home:

aha + bha liquid mask by the ordinary: a literal overhaul of my pores. it’s refining and helps reduce texture and hyperpigmentation. 1-2 x/week

korean modeling mask: i use this after doing everything in my routine. it’s super cooling and smooths my skin out. the low temp of the mask reduces flushing of my skin and helps the steps in my routine absorb better. 2-3 x/week

Treatments -

done either 1-3x/week and/or exclusively at night

consumer grade Retinols, AHAs, BHAs at high strength

little extra things i like to use to enhance my routine:

gua sha, ice pack, rose quartz roller, however often i choose

Facials ❤︎︎

done every 1-2 months by licensed estheticians

often includes exfoliation and extraction

Classic Facial: cleanse, extract, massage, moisturize

HydraFacials: extracts pores while infusing serums to boost skin’s vitamin and nutrient content

dry, dehydrated skin

Microdermabrasion: microabrasive tool removes outermost, textured, damaged layer of skin using suction to reveal a smooth and refined new layer of skin

sun damaged, aged, textured skin or skin with hyperpigmentation

Chemical Peel: application of medical grade AHA, BHA, Lactic Acid, Fruit Enzymes, or Retinol to peel away top layers of skin over the course of 1-2 weeks

pore refining, brightening, and anti-aging

after care is crucial. skin will be peeling and sensitivity to sun is increased. SPF MUST be used. it’s heavily advised that clients stay home for the first few days.

HydroJelly Facial: facial made of electrolytes, algae, organic white grain oat flour, rice flour, and white willow bark powder. leaving your skin hydrated, plump, and nourished. forms a vacuum-like seal that compresses facial contours.

there are 25 different hydrojelly pro masks for most skin concerns you may have, check here

More Facials ❤︎︎

Contouring Facial: sculpting, tightening, and lifting of facial muscles

LED Facial: uses LED light to soothe inflammation, aiding in acne healing and prevention

Vampire Facial: plumps skin and improves wrinkles by extracting blood, removing its platelets, then either re-injecting it into the skin or applying it topically

Diamond File Facial: finely ground diamonds resurface skin by filing to improve dark spots

Glass Skin Botox: multiple tiny botox injections just below the surface of the skin. alleviate fine lines, redness, texture, and more achieving glass skin

AquaGold Facial: microinjections that combine vampire facial methods, hyaluronic acid, botox, stem cells, antioxidants, vitamins, peptides, etc. improves fine lines, wrinkles, pores, pigmentation, acne scarring, dryness, tone, texture, skin elasticity, and more

cite

Hair:

Hair Care ❤︎︎

Wash Routines:

curly textured: wash and condition every 2-3 weeks, deep condition every 1-2 weeks

straight: wash and condition every 2-3 days, deep condition every 2-3 weeks

Styling ︎❤︎︎

Hair should have a style everyday! At home hairstyling is limitless and really depends on your taste and lifestyle. The everyday woman does her own her once every 1-4 weeks using natural hair products, heat, or other tools.

Professional Stylists:

hair is styled every 1-3 months: uses heat to straighten or curl, extensions to lengthen and add volume, shears to maintain/attain a shape and length

trim ends: every 6-8 weeks

hair color: touched up roughly every 6-8 weeks (depending on how fast your hair is growing and how fast your color will fade)

Silk Press:

after a clarifying wash and deep conditioning, natural hair is straightened using flat iron and/or pressing comb, then usually curled in feathers or pin curls to preserve the style

lasts 3-4 weeks depending on maintenance

preserved by wrapping hair at night, keep hands out of hair, and using a wide toothed comb only

can be further styled with different kind of rollers, or with pin curls

Braids:

afrocentric hairstyles typically done to protect hair while maintaining beauty

lasts 3-8 weeks

styles include knotless braids, faux locs, stitch braids, french braids, etc

Extensions:

hair added to natural hair to enhance length or volume

can be done at home with patience and proper materials

sew-in extensions: (my personal fav) 1-2 months

your natural hair gets braided down flush to your scalp and the bundles are sewn on by the wefts in a flat pattern typically with a section of hair left out to cover the wefts $100-600

microlinks: up to 4 months

i-tip extension is added to hair using micropliers, clippers and loop tool. takes far longer than most extension methods but looks the absolute most natural $500-1000

tape-in extensions: up to a year, touch ups every 4-6 weeks

medical grade tape is used to attach extensions to small sections of hair $200-400

clip-in extensions: 3-6 months

extensions are clipped on by the wefts. the hair itself can last up to six months, but it’s not recommended to sleep, shower, or swim with the extensions in $50-100

Natural Styles:

all last roughly 1-2 weeks at most. allowing hair to completely DRY is crucial for these styles. your natural hair can be further changed in styles like buns, puffs, etc once dry

natural hair essentials: scalp oil, leave in conditioner, detangling brush, wide tooth comb, curling cream, styling gel, edge control and edge brush

wash n’ go

wash and detangle, then use leave in conditioner to keep hair moist. oil on the scalp and ends is recommended for growth and healthy ends

bantu knots

a traditionally african style where the hair is cleanly sectioned (usually parted in a cute pattern) and twisted into knots. style can be worn just like this or taken down for curls

braid/twist out

a specific pattern of curls is achieved after hair is twisted or braided with curl preserving products. end result depends on how big your twists or braids are

roller set

hair is sprayed with water and curl cream applied before roller of your choice is added. hair is left to dry usually overnight for springy well formed curls

Brows and Lashes:

Brow Shaping ❤︎︎

in salon or at home

Waxing - every 3 weeks

Threading- every 2-3 weeks

Razor Shaping - weekly

Brow Enhancement ❤︎︎

Tinting - monthly

can be done at home or by pro in the salon

Microblading - every 1-3 years + annual touch ups, exclusively professional work

cosmetic tattooing using a manual tool with nearly invisible hair-like needles to inject pigment in brows to create your desired brow look

Lash Enhancements ❤︎︎

*done exclusively by professionals

Lifts - every 6 weeks

basically a perm for your lashes to curl them semi-permanently for lashes to appear longer

Lash Extensions - new set every 6-8 weeks, fill ins every 2-3 weeks depending on quality and style

false individual strands of lashes glued to natural lashes to create semi-permanent length and/or volume

lash baths: wet lashes and apply a small amount of gentle cleanser or a “lash bath” to lashes. cleanse lashes and eyelids for about 10 seconds. hold a towel under your eye and use a nozzle bottle to flush soap and bacteria from lashes then dry with a disposable lint free towel. finish by brushing your lashes with a spoolie. daily.

Lash Styles:

Classic: one lash on each fan, thin lashes

Volume: fluffier lashes with more lashes on each fan

Hybrid: uses classic and volume lashes to make an alternated look

Russian: volume lashes made with very thin individuals, 5-6 extensions per natural lash, fanned out look

DIY Lash Extensions - lasts about a week (sometimes longer)

lash fragments or individual wisps are glued either under the lashes or on the lash line. KISS Falscara is a product that makes this concept simple and easy

Nails:

all these services can be done at home with the proper materials and KNOWLEDGE

Classic Manicure ❤︎︎

every 1-2 weeks

nail service that consists of soaking hands in warm soapy water then drying them. nails are trimmed, filed, and buffed. cuticles are pushed back before applying nail polish (base coat, color, top coat), then finally cuticle oil is applied.

nails can be enhanced with rhinestones, glitter, or charms and attached with uv gel or nail glue

my fav styles are pink, cream, white, black and any french tip using those colors

Pedicure ❤︎︎

every 2-4 weeks

sister to the classic manicure, but can be upgraded depending on materials. steps are similar to manicure, except feet are scrubbed and exfoliated before feet are washed and dried to apply nail color

regular polish, acrylic, or gel can be used on toenails

Gel or Shellac Mani ❤︎︎

every 2-3 weeks

same process as the classic manicure, but traditional nail polish is replaced with uv base coat, gel or CND Shellac polish, then uv top coat that’s cured in a UV or LED lamp

longer lasting and more strong/3d than classic mani and is typically removed by soaking in acetone

Apres Gel-X Nails ❤︎︎

every 2-3 weeks

my personal fav at home nails using the artme yoko matsuda nails. after doing a classic mani sans polish, you apply a dehydrator and primer to prep nail for gel. then you apply builder gel to your natural nail and cure. then you apply that same builder to the nail extension after etching it using an electric drill or acetone. marry the gel to your nail and cure. then just shape to your liking and top with uv top coat. tutorial here

Acrylic Nails ❤︎︎

every 2-3 weeks, nails are fully grown out after 6 weeks

manicure done with liquid monomer and acrylic powder to build and extend natural nail, then polished with color or just a top coat if desired

Russian Mani ❤︎︎

every 4-5 weeks

essentially a gel manicure, but more invasive. the eponychium is snipped away so polish can be applied more closely and flush to the cuticle. this aids in visuals and longevity

service is seen as risky because the skin is more susceptible to fungal or bacterial infection. this is actually how i do my nails at home.

Body:

Bathing ❤︎︎

2x daily

self explanatory, we all know how to bathe. i have other posts that talk about my shower and bath routines.

use a gentle cleanser then a scented body wash to complement perfume and smell fresh all day.

if needed, you can use body soaps with actives like aha, bha or retinol to exfoliate or treat skin at night

exfoliation - 2-3x/week. using scrubs, loofahs, bath brushes, etc.

Hair Removal ❤︎︎

shaving - 2-3x/week

waxing - every 3-5 weeks

sugaring - monthly

ipl device - a device that uses light therapy to slowly destroy hair follicles and unwanted pigment in skin. i use mine after every 5-6 shaves but i could really use it more often.

Vajacial ❤︎︎

1-2x/month

a “facial” for your lady area

the esthetician will first wax, then cleanse and apply an enzyme exfoliant. then they extract any blackheads or ingrown hairs from the area before applying a soothing mask usually in the jelly form.

Moisture and Hydration ❤︎︎

body cream or lotion - daily right after bathing to hydrate skin

body oil - daily to seal in moisture and protect skin from debris and dryness

masks - weekly to address particular skin concerns

ex. when i was having eczema flare ups on my back, i used a dead sea mud mask every 1-2 weeks to help treat it

done at home or at spa

glycolic, clay, mud, salicylic, etc.

Enhancement Procedures:

the goal is to look younger and balance facial features. all these services are exclusively done by professionals usually in a medspa and are widely considered luxury.

Botox ❤︎︎

every 6-8 months; between brows, smile lines, outer corners of eyes, etc

discourages muscle movement to reduce wrinkles

Lifts ❤︎︎

lasts about 10 years; face, neck, brow, eyelids

skin is lifted to desired look, then excess skin is removed

Fillers ︎❤︎︎

every 6-12 months; under-eye, lips, jawline, wrinkle sites, cheekbones

injects acids (usually naturally occurring) like Hyaluronic Acid and Calcium Hydroxylapatite to add volume to your face

Body Contouring ❤︎︎

every 2-4 months until desired results are achieved

non invasive liposuction to achieve desired physique

CoolSculpting - cryolipolysis freezes fat cells for the body to the metabolize and and remove them

SculpSure - essentially the same as CoolSculpting, but uses heat and laser technology to destroy fat cells

Laser Hair Removal ❤︎︎

every 5-6 weeks; bikini, underarms, legs, arms

touch ups done every 1-2 years

hair growth is inhibited by exposing follicles to light at frequencies that kill them

Building the Regimen 🗒️💕:

when making appointments with your “glam squad” you can stagger your services by week depending on what’s being done. for example you can get your mani and pedi done one week. then your facials, brows and lashes another week.

Things to Keep in Mind 💭💞:

these frequencies won’t be the same for everyone depending on personal wants, budgets, etc. but will most likely land somewhere in the ranges i gave. if you need touch ups or redos any sooner than i mapped out, then the service most likely was of poor quality.

anything done at home may or may not be up to the level of detail and longevity as salon or spa work. if you see yourself doing the majority of your beauty maintenance at home, this can save money but may end up taking more time than professional services. so it’s a give and take.

More Resources:

manage your routines, services and products using a beauty binder

a look at my skincare routine

at home beauty treatments for the summer

my hair care routine at home

pretty on purpose by @shefromhouston

monthly beauty routine by @angeljpg

dream girl routines by me

#the prissy girl agenda #dream girl journey #prissy lifestyle tips 💕🎀#dream girl routines #masterpost #my posts #skincare

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sunlightmurdock · 4 months ago

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Operation Apollo | 3.0 | Jake Seresin x Reader

previous chapter | epilogue | masterlist

Synopsis: After a threat is made against her life, the President’s grown up daughter gets her security tripled. Her long term detail is about to retire and needs replacing, only — she isn’t the easiest to work with. Ex-Navy and current Secret Service, Jake Seresin is devoted to being the best at everything he does. He isn’t going to let a bratty little girl cost him this job.

Warnings: age gap, power imbalance, enemies to lovers, danger and angst, manipulation, sucky parents, grief and manipulation, lying, distressing themes throughout but especially towards the end of the chapter. Graphic violence, dangerous situations, inaccurate injuries, major character death revenge, wc: 3.8k

There’s no rush to open your eyes. The ache and throb, and painful dryness of your lips brings you no respite from the way things had been before you had fallen asleep. Blacked out. Whatever you want to call it— it hadn’t helped.

Your nose wrinkles at something offensive. Sterile and sharp smelling. Wrinkling it comes with a crunch, and sharp pain. There’s a dry feeling in your nostrils where old blood still sits.

The smell is chemical, antiseptic. It’s so strong smelling through all of that blood and pain that it forces your eyes open. That’s worse. That hurts more. Fluorescents above you. You’re left with no choice but to squeeze them shut again— and the sudden realization that you’re not where you were before, at all.

There’s no hard, painful metal chair holding your weight. The burden of being held now falls to something much softer, so soft that it feels like you’re sinking into it like sand. It doesn’t hurt much less.

Your legs hurt, a prickling static feeling. Your ass hurts from however long you were sitting there like that. Your back hurts, a numb and stiff feeling. You attempt to turn your head and your neck reminds you suddenly not to overlook it— a gasp tears from your mouth and makes your lungs burn almost as much as your bruised throat.

Two voices say your name at once. A chair scrapes across the ground, two sets of shoes hit the floor. People are coming. The gasp, despite your burning throat’s protests, becomes a choked whimper.

“Don’t— Don’t touch her,” Allen. You’re dreaming again, just like you had been when you heard Jake’s voice. “Maybe we should get the doctor.”

You try once again. The bright, blinding white stuns your sore, unadjusted eyes. You squint through it, determined as ever. Allen’s weathered face steadies and becomes more clear. His mouth hangs open, watching your bruised face start to move with recognition.

“Stay still, sweetheart, don’t move.” He’s speaking to you. He lifts his hand and reaches. His fingers extend towards you and your skin comes alive, buzzing with electricity like you’re being shocked as you tear back from his extended palm.

He winces as you cough out a choked cry, doubling over in pain from the sudden movement.

“Doctor Owens?— Doctor Owens!” Your mother. Her voice is further away, growing in urgency. She’s barely recovered herself. She shouldn’t have come.

The monitor beside your bed beeps wildly as your heart rate kicks into another spike, and footfall echoes in the hall as people rush for your room. So many shoes hitting the ground at once that you can’t place how many of them there could possibly be.

“Don’t.” It comes out choked and horse, but loud. “Don’t touch me. Allen. Don’t— I don’t want—“

“Calm down, it’s alright,” He tries, he really tries. The footfall grows closer and you thrash as Allen’s fingers graze the curve of your shoulder. You’re just hurting yourself more. “Stop. Try to stay still, alright? — You’re — Stop. Stop!”

There’s nothing peaceful about the way you’re sent back to sleep, thrashing and crying and screaming as your IV is adjusted and filled. With everything that you’ve been through, they had warned your loved ones that recovery was going to be far from linear.

Over the course of the next two days, you wake three more times and are put back to sleep in a similar fashion. With your stitches and recovering internal injuries, they need you to be still. For now, every time you have opened your eyes has been another fight that your body just isn’t ready to take.

The fourth time comes easier than the rest. Your broken nose has started to heal by now. Under the hospital gown, your ribs are black and blue. Your lungs have stopped making that rattling sound when you inhale deeply now. Still, everything hurts.

The fluorescent lights are off. The curtains are open, the television is on. You blink heavily, your chest aches as you breathe in.

Allen looks up at the soft rattle of your first breath in. His brows furrowed slightly, green eyes widening as he watches your eyelids blink heavily.

“Hey…” He whispers cautiously, like he’s afraid to spook you. Your gaze settles on him, the fuzziness of the picture dissipating with each heavy blink. His face is sullen, tired. “Hey, sweetheart. It’s just me. It’s just us, you’re okay.”

Just us. The idea is more comforting than anything you’ve heard in a long time. It’s not really just the two of you, but Allen keeps that to himself. You don’t need to know the amount of security posted around this building.

You want to answer him, but your throat is dry and hoarse when you try to speak. Allen sits forwards, grabbing the underside of the chair with his good hand and pulling it closer.

“It’s alright.” His voice voice croaks. It’s not alright, but you will be. He hopes you’ll understand, when it’s time for you to learn how it all went down.

Stubble coats his jaw and his hair is longer than he usually ever lets it grow, salt and pepper all the way through. Your fingers twitch and your arm aches as you force it slowly upward, reaching for him. Allen grazes the tips of his fingers over yours. He slides his hand slowly into your palm, and watches your eyes fill with sudden tears.

“What… happened?” You whimper.

“I’ll tell you everything once you’re feeling a little better,” He whispers, thinking back to the strict orders from your mother not to upset you. He lowers his mouth just slightly and presses his lips to your knuckles, squeezing your hand tight. “You scared the shit out of me for a second, there.”

A burning sensation behind your eyes makes you wrinkle your nose, your bottom lip trembling as your chest flares with heat. There’s real fear in his eyes. He shouldn’t even be here, he’s supposed to be retired — there’s no money in this for him.

And yet, he’s the only person at your bedside.

He’s holding your hand, and holding your gaze firmly. Letting you think it’s all okay. Your throat hurts as you swallow softly.

There’s a news broadcast on the television to Allen’s right. The skyline buzzes, alight behind him. It plays on as he opens his mouth to speak again, he seems to have forgotten that it’s playing.

“Following the events of Thursday evening, we have received word that due to complications, a second surgery would be necessary — which is underway as we speak,” The reporter explains solemnly. She and her co-anchor are both wearing black. “The nation’s thoughts are with you, Mr. President.”

You blink at the fuzzy television screen. The picture they used of your father is from your kindergarten graduation. He’s younger there, his hair dark rather than they grey it has been growing into more recently — he’s got an arm around you, and he’s grinning proudly.

“Shit.” Allen breathes out, sitting up suddenly straight.

The news broadcast is gone with an abrupt beat. Allen drops the remote down onto the side and scrubs a hand along his salt-and-pepper stubbled jaw, studying the ground.

Your lips flatten into a firm line, your muscles screaming as you lift your head from the pillow.

Your gaze hardens. “Is he alive?”

Allen swallows. He gives you a small, serious nod. “Yeah. He’s upstairs, in surgery.”

The tone of his voice makes your chest ache. Serious in a way Allen rarely is.

Creeping into his office in your pyjamas. Scolding him for all the times he missed you teddy-bear tea parties. Sitting with him on the swing set in the backyard of the first house you remember. All the times you had told him you hated him as a teenager. How strongly you had meant it the last time.

Your gaze flickers back to the blank television screen, losing yourself in its sudden darkness.

“How?” You croak out.

Allen hesitates. He presses his lips together and shakes his head softly. “I’ll explain everything when you’re feeling better.”

You turn your head, blinking heavily as you look around the sprawling hospital room. Your parents really spared no expense. Well, your mom— you guess.

“Jake?” You ask.

“He’s here,” Allen nods solemnly. “He’s sleeping.”

And you can’t see him. It wouldn’t be good for you to see him, not until you’re feeling better.

“Is he—?”

“He’s going to be fine,” Allen sounds sure, and not in a sugar-coated way. He sounds more positive than he had about your father. “You should rest. He comes to see you in the mornings.”

Being on a ward himself, Jake’s been getting on the nurses’ nerves around here, trying to break the rules so he can wander out and see you for as long as possible. His shoulder is just about fine now, he can almost roll it back the way he used to. The doctor says an injury like his doesn’t heal that fast, but Jake has always been ahead of the curve.

He has spread his time between your room on the fourteenth floor, and where the President has been falling in and out of being classed as critical on the fifteenth with little regard for the fact he’s recovering from a surgery on his shoulder himself. With you breathing, he couldn’t care less about being hit himself.

If the bullet hadn’t caught his shoulder, it would have torn through your father’s lungs and killed him right then and there.

You shoot a quick glance toward the darkened hallway. Allen sighs.

“No.”

“I want to know what happened.” You don’t. Not really. You want to pull these foreign covers up over your head and hide and cry your eyes out, scream this whole place down. There’s no easy way to say it, and really, no one knows how you’ll handle it.

You close your eyes for a moment and wait.

Somehow, you’re safe — you’ll be okay. Jake’s okay. Your father won’t make it through the week. You don’t remember a thing. None of it makes sense.

Jake remembers every detail. He sits awake too, not in his own room but in the hallway of the twelfth floor — as close as he can get to the operating room without being put on his ass by a serviceman.

In the mornings that he’s able to visit you, Jake likes to talk to you. You’ve been out of the woods for a while now, everyone knows that it’s just a waiting game until you’re stable enough to be awake. Really awake. On the Monday just passed, you had opened your eyes for a few seconds and just blinked at him.

Brows drawn together all stern, your lips pursed, your eyelashes fluttering. He never thought he would be so grateful to see you frowning at him.

He has heard about the past few days. The panic and stress. He has made a strong case for himself to be allowed to be there, but the people who make the calls won’t budge. It’s just not the right time.

That’s not true. It’s his punishment.

It’s his punishment, for not being the one in that operating room with his chest cracked open and twelve surgeons fighting to keep his heart beating.

Having spent most of his adult life working in environments where he was the expendable one, Jake had heard a lot of stories. He had heard, most frequently, that time always slows down in the moments that matter.

Not that day. It had been a blur. He had walked into that exchange with certainty; you would be leaving there with him.

To an extent, he had been expecting Elias to be bluffing. No man on the planet couldn’t be bought — Jake had been expecting a bidding war, and he knew your father had the right amount of money to make this go away.

It hadn’t been that at all.

His stomach twists when he thinks about how they had paraded you before them. The look on Matthew’s face as he studied the dried blood in your hair, and the fresh blood trickling from your temple.

They had hurt you to prove a point. Almost killed you, to send a message. It was too far gone to be about the money.

Jake knows that he isn’t responsible for this, he isn’t the one that put your father in this situation. He’s the only reason that those surgeons are even trying right now — if he hadn’t been there, you’d both be dead.

He’ll never not be there again.

Jake sits there through the surgery. On the floor with his elbows on his knees, his head rested back against the wall, he sits there for six hours. It should have taken six hours.

At a little after seven, Jake is startled awake by an orderly rushing past him with a rattling metal cart. He checks his watch, which is now settled on the wrong wrist due to his sling, and clumsily pushes himself up from the ground.

“Hey, buddy,” Jake strains, sighing at the ache through his side and clearing his throat as he finds his footing. “How’s he looking?”

The twenty-something year old in scrubs whips around to look at Jake, his eyes wide with heavy blue marks under them. He looks like he’s been up even longer than Jake has.

“You’re the bodyguard.” The kid seems to realize, blinking as his rattling cart comes to a stop. He glances back in the direction of the theater, then at Jake. “Uh… I don’t know. It’s going to be a while before they can say, I guess.”

A muscle in Jake’s jaw ticks. At seven, Jake walks to your hospital room and usually starts to bug whoever is in charge of watching you until they let him visit early.

He glances towards the operating room, and then back at the orderly. This could take hours, something urgent could happen in the next few minutes. He hesitates.

Then, his phone buzzes in the pocket of his sweats. Jake takes it from his pocket and glances quickly down at the screen, with every intention of answering the kid in front of him.

She’s awake. Asking for you too.

And Jake’s mind is made up. He can’t wait a second longer. His heart feels like it’s in his mouth by the time he’s pushing open the door to your hospital room.

He has seen the bruises fade from blue to yellow, and the IV lines and monitors all around you every day for almost a week. It does nothing to prepare him for the sight of all of those things once you’re awake and staring at him.

“Honey…” His breath catches in his throat, his brows drawing together.

The comprehensive list of your injuries is still typed up at the foot of the bed. Jake could list them off by heart, by now. Fractured eye-socket. Broken ring and middle finger on your right hand. Soft tissue damage to your left foot. Extreme bruising to the abdomen. The fracture in your rib. Every single one of those god-damned bruises.

Your right eye had been swollen shut that first day. Now, it’s wide open. The bruise is yellowed and sore looking, your eyes filled with fear.

“Jake.” Your voice cracks and your breathing hitches.

It doesn’t matter that Allen is standing right there, sitting back against the window ledge with his arms folded over his chest. Jake couldn’t care less that your mother is watching him like a hawk.

She has been every single time he has visited.

The security guard steps out of the way as Jake charges forwards. He takes slow, long strides. He’s trying so hard to remember what you’ve been through, and remind himself to be slow with you, but every fibre of his being wants to pull you close and never let you go again.

He stops at the side of your bed and hesitates, just for a split-second. His eyes scan across your face, searching for doubt or fear. As he makes his decision, you make yours too.

He leans forwards swiftly as you ball your not-injured hand into his shirt, his fingers curling gently around the nape of your neck and pulling you against him.

The room falls silent. Your nose fills with his smell, your cheek presses firmly into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. His thumb strokes at your skin.

For all you care, the other people in the room could have disappeared from the second that Jake touched you. He holds you close, silently. He doesn’t know how much you know yet, whether it’s all or nothing, and he doesn’t care. For now, you’re okay, and you’re with him.

It takes a moment before you notice that he’s only got one arm around you.

Jake watches as you pull back, searching for answers and landing on the blue sling resting around his shoulder, covering his right arm.

“I’m fine,” He assures you instantly, already shaking his head as his palm moves to cup your jaw. He holds your gaze, certain. “I’m fine. It’s superficial. We’re okay.”

Superficial. Allen bites his tongue, but can’t help but disagree. That bullet tore through ligament and bone, and Jake is lucky to be recovering so well. It was far from superficial— the surgery had taken all night.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks, weak sounding and trembling. You drop your head forwards to rest against his unbandaged shoulder. “This is all my fault. This is all my fault, you shouldn’t ever have even met—“

“Stop.” Jake whispers, turning his face towards yours and trying to coax you back to look at him. He closes his eyes, pressing his mouth to your temple. “It’s over now. I’m never going to let anything happen to you again. It’s over.”

Your mother watches. There’s a cautious, nagging feeling that tugs at her that she really doesn’t know you at all. There isn’t much that feels familiar about watching you with him — she wouldn’t have a clue how to calm you the way that he does.

“I want to go home.” You whisper, balling your hands tighter into his t-shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he’d guess that you’re trying to pull him right into your hospital bed with you.

“Yeah, a couple more days, honey,” Jake nods his head. He’s been speaking with your doctor. Once they’re certain that you’re stable enough, you’re free to go. “We’ll get you back to the house.”

“No.” You rush out, so fast that it almost makes you hiccup. It’s then that your head turns, your eyes wide and searching as you look around the room. Just as quickly, before you’ve even met the gaze of Allen or your mother, you bury your face into the crook of his neck and squeeze your eyes shut. Just quiet enough for Jake to hear, you whimper softly. “I don’t want to go back there. I want to go with you.”

Jake feels your mother’s gaze burning into his back, and knows what she must be thinking. She’s about to lose her husband and she thinks that Jake’s going to take you too.

“With me?” He murmurs, stroking a hand over your hair. Your mother has been taking pride in maintaining it — she has cared for you in so many quiet ways recently. Jake will tell you all about it, another time.

“Could — maybe we could see your mom again?” It feels ridiculous to ask, and from the second that the words leave your mouth, you’re already worrying about the kind of danger you could be putting them in.

But for Jake, it makes his heart catch with sudden relief.

“Yeah,” He hums. “Yeah, we can do that.”

He perches on the edge of your bed, draping his good arm around your shoulders. Your mother watches as you curl against him, closing your eyes and finally unballing your fists.

The room falls quiet, and stays that way.

Allen lets the two of you have the peace and quiet. Your mother, simply, has little to say.

An hour later, a little after eight, there’s a commotion in the hallway. Jake watches the bustle between the security guards silently, a heavy feeling settling in his gut as he braces for what is coming.

He feels you perk up at his side as their voices grow more hushed, trying to peek over him.

He turns his face towards your hair and kisses the top of your head softly, wrapping his arm tighter around you. “It’s alright.”

He pities the poor guy who opens the door to the room, forced to meet your mother’s gaze with a sullen expression. He clears his throat weakly, hands tucked behind his back. “Ma’am.”

Your mother isn’t a dumb woman. She doesn’t need it explained to her. The doctors had explained the risks, and explained that he might not make it. Her husband is dead.

…

#operation Apollo #Jake x Apollo #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin fic #Jake Seresin x reader #Jake Seresin fanfiction #Jake hangman Seresin #Jake hangman Seresin x reader

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skin-care-news · 1 year ago

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The 13 Best Foods For Healthy Skin

Your skin is not only the body's largest organ but also a reflection of your overall health. Maintaining healthy and radiant skin requires more than just external skincare products; it begins with the nutrients you provide your body from the inside. A well-balanced diet rich in essential vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants can do wonders for your skin. In this article, we'll explore the 13 best foods for achieving and maintaining healthy, glowing skin.

1. Salmon:

Salmon is a fatty fish that's high in omega-3 fatty acids. These healthy fats help keep your skin moisturized and supple, reducing the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles. Omega-3s also have anti-inflammatory properties that can soothe skin conditions like eczema and psoriasis.

2. Avocado:

Avocados are packed with healthy fats, vitamins E and C, and antioxidants. These nutrients help keep your skin hydrated, protect it from UV damage, and promote collagen production, which is essential for skin elasticity.

3. Sweet Potatoes:

Sweet potatoes are rich in beta-carotene, a powerful antioxidant that can give your skin a healthy glow by protecting it from sun damage and preventing premature aging.

4. Berries:

Berries like blueberries, strawberries, and raspberries are loaded with antioxidants, particularly vitamin C. Antioxidants help combat free radicals, reducing skin cell damage and promoting a more youthful appearance.

5. Walnuts:

Walnuts are an excellent source of omega-3 fatty acids and vitamin E, which help maintain the skin's moisture and protect it from oxidative stress.

6. Spinach:

Spinach is rich in vitamin A, which is essential for skin health. It helps repair skin tissues, prevent acne, and maintain a healthy complexion.

7. Green Tea:

Green tea contains polyphenols and antioxidants that protect the skin from UV radiation and reduce the risk of skin cancer. Drinking green tea regularly can also help combat inflammation and keep your skin looking fresh.

8. Tomatoes:

Tomatoes are a great source of lycopene, an antioxidant that can reduce the risk of sunburn and skin aging. It also promotes collagen production and skin elasticity.

9. Dark Chocolate:

High-quality dark chocolate (70% cocoa or higher) is rich in antioxidants, specifically flavonols, which can improve skin texture, hydration, and blood flow, giving your skin a healthy glow.

10. Almonds:

Almonds are rich in vitamin E, a powerful antioxidant that helps protect your skin from harmful UV rays and environmental damage.

11. Yogurt:

Yogurt is packed with probiotics, which can promote a healthy gut. A balanced gut microbiome can lead to clearer skin by reducing inflammation and preventing acne.

12. Carrots:

Carrots are another great source of beta-carotene, which can help reduce skin dryness and promote a more youthful appearance.

13. Oats:

Oats are a good source of complex carbohydrates and fiber. They can help stabilize blood sugar levels, reducing the risk of acne and promoting clear skin.

While these foods can be a valuable addition to your diet for healthier skin, remember that no single food can work miracles. A well-rounded diet that includes a variety of nutrient-rich foods, along with proper hydration, is essential for achieving and maintaining radiant skin. Additionally, don't forget to protect your skin from excessive sun exposure, get enough sleep, and maintain a consistent skincare routine for the best results. Healthy, glowing skin is the result of both internal and external care, so make these foods a part of your daily routine and watch your skin thrive.

#skincare #skincare tips #beauty tips #glowing skin #skincare routine #antiaging #natural skin care products #acne #skin care #skin treatment #health tips #health #healingjourney #healthy skin #healthy #nutrition #healthy living #healthy eating #healthyfood

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chishiyasleftnut · 9 months ago

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Hi! („• ֊ •„) This is a long one (divided into two parts), inspired by various bots from Cherubin on Character AI. I hope you’ll enjoy it!!

Stuck With You (part 1)

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Warnings: none, but smut in part 2. Pairing: Chishiya x fem!reader.

Plot: After getting separated from Arisu and the others when the King of Spades attacked, Chishiya and fem!reader camps out together on the outskirts of Tokyo.

Part 1 word count: 2000. Part 2 word count: 2793. (Click here to read!) Part 3 word count: 3088. (Click here to read!) 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Ever since the King of Spades attacked for the first time and split up your group, you and Chishiya had been stuck together. Sure, you weren’t physically stuck, but the thought of being all alone in the borderlands was far from pleasing to you, so here you were: camping out with Chishiya.

You had decided that staying in the outskirts of Tokyo where nature had completely taken over, was probably safer than staying near the centre. There was less of a chance of a surprise attack from the King of Spades, was Chishiya’s conclusion. You, not wanting to argue with Chishiya - which once he was set on a plan was much like arguing with a wall - just agreed and followed along.

“What is it?” you asked curiously. When he walked closer you finally saw what he was holding. “A tent?”

“Yep. A two-man tent, perfect for us.”

“Mm…” you hummed, causing Chishiya to tilt his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“You know how tiny two-man tents are, right?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused. “They’re for two people, no?”

Of course, Chishiya never seemed like a camping guy but still, surely he had at least been in a tent once? Tents were notoriously small, that was common knowledge.

“Well, technically yes, but we won’t have a lot of wiggle room.”

Chishiya looked down at the tent he had so proudly brought back with him, his eyebrows furrowed so much that deep wrinkles formed between them. “It’s better than nothing. It looks like it’s going to rain soon.”

There was no disagreeing there; the clouds looked dangerously grey. You grabbed the box and began unboxing the contents, neatly putting all of the many pieces on the ground in front of you. Chishiya watched curiously as you shortly read the instructions before getting to work.

“You’ve done this before, I take it?”

You hummed, too focused on setting up the tent correctly to reply with words. It was important to you that it was done right: mostly because you enjoyed being dry, but also because you didn’t want to give Chishiya any chance to be snarky if you made a mistake.

Once the tent was up, you both admired your work in silence until Chishiya spoke up.

“Mh. It is tiny.”

_____

It was in that tiny tent that Chishiya and you spent the next few (very rainy) days in. By day 3, you had begun running low on supplies, so Chishiya had left the dryness of the tent to find food and other essentials. You wanted to go with him but had firmly been told that it was safer if he went alone. You “made too much noise” and “was slow” apparently.

Although you were originally quite pissy about it, you were now enjoying the karma of Chishiya wandering the rainy streets of Tokyo while you were nice and dry. Was it nice to be basking in the thought of him being uncomfortable? Probably not, but you had never claimed to be nice.

Just as you had become quite pleased with the outcome, Chishiya unzipped the tent, threw in three 7/11 plastic bags filled with stuff, and crawled in before zipping up the entrance again - giving you a chance to look at just how soaked he’d gotten.

“You look like a drowned cat,” you half laughed.

His blonde hair, which had gotten multiple shades darker from soaking in the rain, was sticking to his face, constant trickles of water dripping down his skin.

“Don’t be too happy now,” he mumbled while brushing clingy hair out of his face. “It’s your turn to run for supplies next time.”

“Absolutely not. That’s a man’s job.”

You felt Chishiya’s eyes stare at you, trying to sense if you were joking or not. You knew that if he looked you in the eyes, he would read you immediately, so you pretended to be busy with looking through the bags.

“A man’s job? I thought women were supposed to be the gatherers.”

“I’ll gladly be your gatherer once you hunt down something that isn’t out of date protein bars.” you complained as you went through the subpar supplies Chishiya had found. Was it really so hard to get something enjoyable to eat?

Amused by your clap back, Chishiya didn’t argue further but instead chuckled. And that’s when you heard the sound of his zipper. Your head snapped around so fast that it hurt, producing a small popping sound.

“Wait, hold on, why are you undressing?”

“I’m wet,” he concluded with a smirk. “Do you want me to catch a cold or something?”

“Well, no, but I don’t want you to be naked either.”

You thought that that was a fair wish. The tent was already awkwardly cramped with the two of you almost always constantly touching somewhat, you didn’t need to add nakedness to the mix.

“Grow up,” he chuckled while continuing to undress, pulling his shirt over his head with one swoop. “You’ve surely seen half naked men before.”

“That’s not the point!” you argued with a blush spreading across your cheeks at the comment. “I don’t want to see you naked.”

“Then look away.”

The suggestion was so simple that you had no argument against it, turning your head back around. With your eyes strictly focused on the wall of the tent, you heard as Chishiya laid down and got comfortable, sighing contently as he waited for his clothes to dry. Eventually, curiosity got the better of you, making your eyes dart as far left as they could go to catch whatever vague glimpse of the body that he was so unapologetically flaunting.

“Looking is fine too,” he said when he immediately caught you looking. Urgh, why was he always so observative?

“Shut up.”

_____

By day 4 you were completely over being around Chishiya. You missed the Beach; missed the many people, the comfortable beds, and even missed the chaos. A small tent in the outskirts of Tokyo was no match to the vibrant life at the Beach - a life you would never go back to.

“I miss Kuina,” you mumbled while throwing a protein bar wrapper into the designated trash-can plastic-bag before crossing your arms.

“Wow, am I not enough for you?” Chishiya joked, acting as if your comment hurt him. Of course, you knew that it didn’t. It would take way more to actually hurt him.

“No.”

Chishiya snorted at your honesty. He liked that about you: you weren’t afraid to talk back at him. It was more fun that way, he thought. So many people were desperate people pleasers and it was annoying to be around. If he had to be stuck in a tent with someone, he was glad it was you - even if he weren’t about to admit that aloud.

Not wanting to exist in silence longer than you had to, you began rummaging through the plastic bags. It was mostly just to keep your hands busy, and your mind occupied with something that wasn’t how god awfully close you were to Chishiya right now.

“You’re shit at getting supplies,” you groaned when you realised that he had brought nothing but protein bars and strawberry gummies with him. “Couldn’t you at least have gotten other flavours?”

“What’s wrong with strawberry? It’s a classic.”

“It’s so basic,” you complained while almost throwing the rustling plastic back down on the ground out of frustration. “Everyone knows grape is the superior gummy flavour.”

“I’m sure you’ll survive.”

The tone of his voice ticked you completely off. He seemed to enjoy your frustration, almost considering it prime entertainment - perhaps because it was his only entertainment. Under normal circumstances, you would march away to cool down, but that wasn’t exactly an option now: the tent was too small to escape him, and it was absolutely pouring outside.

“Just bring grape candy next time.”

_____

On day five of your ‘camping trip’, the weather had finally seemed to clear up. Of course, this was only temporary, but you didn’t know that yet. You zipped open the tent and stepped outside to stretch your legs, reaching your arms high up in the air which caused your shirt to lift up too, exposing your abdomen. It felt good finally being able to move around.

“I need a shower,” you exclaimed when Chishiya joined you outside of the tent. He immediately zipped it up behind him, not wanting to risk any mosquitoes getting in.

“There’s a lake 300 metres away,” he said while also stretching.

“A lake isn’t a shower.”

“Sorry, princess,” he chuckled, making sure to add a condescending nickname. “I can’t magically make you a shower. It’s a lake or nothing.”

You didn’t look super satisfied with the truth. Truth be told, you missed the Beach a lot. The Beach had hot water, electricity, private rooms, and you weren’t forced to spend every waking moment with Chishiya of all people.

With a groan, you began walking down the path behind the tent towards the lake, stopping up and looking back towards Chishiya when you noticed he wasn’t following you.

“You need a bath too,” you noted. “Besides, I don’t want to be alone out there.”

Begrudgingly, Chishiya followed you to the lake, his hands never leaving the comfort of his pockets. Once at your destination you both awkwardly looked at the lake, neither of you wanting to make the first move to undress.

“Didn’t you want to bathe?” Chishiya finally asked with an amused look on his face. “Or are you too shy?”

“Shut up,” you mumbled before beginning to undress. Once in your underwear, you again looked awkwardly between the lake and Chishiya. “Don’t look.”

Chishiya raised both of his hands in the air and turned around to give you some privacy. Of course, you weren’t entirely sure that you could trust him to not take a peek, but you also really needed a bath so you had to take the chance. With quick movements you completely undressed yourself and stepped into the cold lake, hissing at how chilly the water was but nonetheless quickly moving far enough out into the lake, so your body was covered by the water.

“Okay!” you yelled back to Chishiya. “You can turn around!”

And he did just that, turning back around and walking closer to the shore. Before you had a chance to even react to his decision, you watched as he too stripped down, throwing his clothes next to yours on the ground, and stepping out into the water. You quickly averted your eyes, looking far away at nothing in particular just so you were sure you didn’t accidentally stare.

The look on your face was absolutely priceless, he thought. Your entire upper body was turning red from shyness and your eyes were so big that they looked like they were about to pop out of your head.

With long, nonchalant strides through the water, Chishiya walked relatively close to you and settled down in the cold water. He didn’t mind your shyness, he actually found it cute how you were still worried about modesty when every second could be your last.

“Relax,” he said confidently before beginning to scrub his body. “It’s just a bath.”

You didn’t respond but instead sunk deeper into the water, making sure Chishiya could see nothing from your chin down. You missed the private shower you had at the Beach. Back then you at least never had to be confronted with full-frontal male nudity from Chishiya.

Slowly, you began scrubbing your body too, wanting to at least be clean after this awkward situation you had placed yourself in. Although you tried to keep your eyes to yourself, you couldn’t help but catch a rare glimpse at Chishiya’s body, silently admiring the way his wet skin glistened in the low sun. Chishiya, too, occasionally peeked when the opportunity arose - could you blame him, really?

[PART TWO HERE]

#aib chishiya #chishiya smut #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya #aib #alice in borderland #chishiya x you #smut #chishiya #alice in borderland chishiya shuntaro #alice in borderland smut #alice in borderland chishiya

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lunarmoves · 10 months ago

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"do you guys ever wish you could cry?" you ask sun after one particularly exhausting day at the daycare.

he perks up slightly as he looks at you from across the room, blank white eyes inquisitively staring into your own. you take his silence as an indication to continue. "like just, fwoooosh"—you splay your hands outward with the onomatopoeia—"let it all out?"

sun's faceplate makes a sharp click as he tilts it to the side, then he goes back to sweeping up all the abandoned toys on the soft ground into his lanky arms. "now why would we want to do that, friend?"

you frown at his easy dismissal, but continue on, ever persistent in your inquiries. "you know, to make yourself feel better afterwards? ease some stress? especially after the day we've had." you add the last bit on with some dryness, thinking about all the fits and fights you had to deal with throughout your shift.

"mmmnope!" sun responds brightly. he makes his way over to the toy bin to deposit his haul for cleaning later. "can't say i see the appeal!" you're almost offended at this tone.

"come on, indulge me a little!" you complain halfheartedly and follow after him like a little duckling, stopping just a few feet away from his lithe form.

"my dear, all we ever do is indulge you," sun says not without a hint of fondness as he turns around from the bin and pats you on the head. it's not quite condescending, but you swat at his hand lightly and he pulls it back to point it up in a grand gesture. "but! very well!" he pauses, as though to prolong the moment in a dramatic fashion. then, "no. final answer."

"booo"—you give him a thumbs down and a wrinkle of your nose—"boring answer. try again."

sun laughs loudly and it doesn't quite sound like the one you are used to. a shiver crawls down your spine that you brush easily enough away for the time being. "'boring'? or is it just not what you want to hear, hm?"

yikes. he didn't need to call you out like that. you recover as quick as you can. "you can't tell me you've never wanted to cry before."

he doesn't even hesitate. "i've never wanted to cry before."

"ha ha," you say sarcastically. it makes his rays spin around once as he grins. "oh come on. doesn't it bother you that you can't express yourself like that?" you muse, more to yourself than anything, but he of course hears you anyways and settles an unreadable gaze on you.

"bother us? why would it bother us?" sun smiles widely at you, the edges of his grin taut and strained even with his eyes half-lidded and narrow. "why would it bother us that we cannot have water run from our eyes, or snot from our nose? that we cannot mimic something privy to organic beings? it is quite disgusting, frankly."

okay, now you're actually offended. even if he's right, he didn't need to say it in that way. "it can be cathartic for some people, you know!"

"ah ah ah!" sun wags a finger at you and seems to loom over your smaller form. he casts a shadow across your face. "you seem to forget one crucial detail: we are not people. therefore, it does not apply!"

"you clearly feel emotions, though!" you argue, even as you see white pupils alight in his eyes among a backdrop of hurricane grey. "you feel sad and happy and angry. why shouldn't you—"

"i think you've overstayed your welcome, friend," sun cuts across you in a whisper that makes the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. his head clicks to the left once and the sound is like a gunshot in the quiet of the daycare. his eyes squint into crescents at you, but there is no warmth in his gaze.

your jaw clicks shut. and when he speaks, something in your stomach abruptly bottoms out. "get out."

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cherry-romper · 5 months ago

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K. Takami - Midnight Visit

Warnings; MDNI, themes of blood and implications of sex

Contains; GN!reader

Totally wasn't inspired by spiderman

Three muffled knocks came from your window, pulling you out of the traced state you'd been in typing up a report. Keigo often visited you when he had the time, but recently he'd taken a liking coming directly to your window. To Hawks, it didn't matter that you lived 20 stories up, and it was quicker to fly than take the elevator.

Your back to him, you gestured to him to come in, finishing off the sentence you'd been typing up. "It wouldn't hurt you to use the front door, you know?" You jested as he crawled off the fire escape and into your room. He chuckled dryly at your comment, clumsily knocking over a few picture frames off your windowsill. Rolling your eyes at the clatter of your belongings, you swivelled on your chair to look at him, a candied smile on your face.

Your eyes widening at the sight of him splattered in blood, his back leaning on the wall for support. His feathers were few and far between and the ones that were left had wrinkled and shrunken. His visor and jacket were nowhere to be seen and his shirt had been ripped in multiple places, revealing many similar cuts and bruises forming along his right side. His arm crossed his waist, holding a deep gash that ran red.

"Keigo! What the hell happened?" you shot up from your chair, in shock at his injuries. Before you could reach him, he collapsed into your armchair, "You should see the other guy," he breathed, half-joking.

Without thinking, you ran to grab your first aid kit from the bathroom. "Why the hell didn't you go to the hospital, you idiot?" Racing back to his side, perching yourself on edge of the footrest, you examine the extent of his injuries.

"You were closer," he said plainly, his voice was croaky and dry. He kept trying to hold his head up to look at you but would wince at the pain and let it fall back down.

Grabbing the necessary items out of your kit, you tugged at his shirt. "Take this off," you demanded, desperate to work as quickly as possible. Complying, he leaned forward, lifting his shirt the best he could in his state, with you helping it off the rest of the way. "Undressing me already?" He chuckled again, coughing at the dryness in his throat.

Letting his comment slide, you stared at his chest, shocked at how many cuts he had.

Dampening a cloth with medical disinfectant, you brought it next the biggest slash, "This might hurt a little."

The initial touch of steriliser caused him to twitch and wince, his body instinctively moving away from the pain. Whines and gargled complaints leave him as he grabs hold of your wrist, "go easy on me, babe. I can't think straight."

"I'm sorry," you give him a sympathetic nod, "don't talk for a moment, okay? And try not to move, just focus on breathing."

He lets his head fall on the back of the chair, sucking in a deep breath through gritted teeth. You worked as gently as possible, wiping away any trace of blood and dirt from his body. Luckly, none of his wounds were so deep they needed stiches; it was simply the sheer amount he had that caused him to bleed so bad. You pull out a gauze and some bandages from your kit, "I'm gonna need you to lean forward for me so I can wrap this around you, okay?" He nodded and shifted his weight forward, leaning his shoulder on yours for support as you finished bandaging him up.

Satisfied with your work, you grabbed his shoulders to push him back down so he could rest but he wouldn't budge. Picking his head up, he held your gaze as he moved in closer; his forehead leaning against your own. His breaths were shallow and quick, his eyes darted from your eyes to your lips. Locked into his gaze you tried to move away, scared that you'd hurt him, but a stray hand caught your waist, bringing you back to him, positioning you sweetly in his lap.

"Keigo," you breathed, your hands resting gently on his chest keeping him from getting too close, "you need to rest." He didn't reply and only continued his advances, his face merely inches from yours.

You stared him down, allowing your foreheads to clash once more, a teasing smile spreading across your face. Not breaking the eye contact, Keigo's lips grazed yours, his head tilting to the side, anticipating your touch.

"Easy, bird-boy," you pushed his chin away gently, still keeping the close proximity.

"What?" He asked clueless, still desperately trying to taste your lips. Amused at his actions, you played along. Letting him get close, then turning away from him a few times. "Keigo," you giggled, "you know what this is, right?"

He stopped with his head leaning on yours, the hand on your waist gripping you a little tighter, curious to your statement, "What? What is it, baby?"

"Your body is having a reaction to the adrenaline," you explained, once again attempting to put distance between you.

"Oh yeah?" His voice rang low, a husk to how he normally sounds. His free hand found your cheek, cupping it and pulling you closer again, not letting you escape, "Maybe you just get my blood pumping."

Caving under the weight of tension, you allowed his lips to envelope your own. Your arms wrapping around his neck, kissing him like you wanted to be kissed, deeply, with a passion only he could satiate.

Soft and sweet moans escaped you both as you shifted to deepen the kiss. Heat rose in your cheeks as you felt him press even closer to you, his hand gripping desperately at your waist. The kiss naturally developed into a chorus of breathy moans and a carnal hunger.

His lips mashed with your own, his hands grabbing at you as if it were the last time he'd hold you. You kissed back fiercely, your mouth parting as his tongue pleaded for entry to the moist space within. Your tongues competed for domination, dancing around each other in a vicious routine.

You worked you mouth against his, the bristles of his stubble scratching your face as you maneuvered your lips together. Your hands snaked their way into his hair, gripping the back of his head, pushing his face deeper into your own.

"Come fly with me," he lets out between kisses, his head switching sides. His arms now holding your back, pressing you both chest to chest, locking you in place. His ailments seemingly cured.

"What?" you replied, not breaking this kiss. Shifting yourself on his lap, brushing your heat against him. He let out a surprised moan at the contact, "play nice. I'm still an injured man, you know."

Giggling, you rolled your hips again, teasing him. In response, he tangled his fingers through your hair, gripping the back of your head, looking you up and down, "the things you do to me."

#hawks #hawks x reader #keigo takami #mha #mha x reader #keigo x reader #mha keigo takami #mha keigo x reader #my hero academia #my hero x reader

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grapejuicestyless · 1 year ago

Text

You Are In Love

Harry Styles x Fem!Reader

Summery: The one where Harry's going away on tour and promised y/n a souvenir.

(Not my GIF)

Waking up was my favorite part of my day, or it had grown to be.

The moon had never shinned so bright in the foggy London winters, nor had it ever seeped so deep through my skin, tickling the buds I could feel the warmth spread. It had never stretched so far to reach my eyes, peeling the heavy blanket laying peacefully over them late Friday evening. No, it had never really gotten that far before. Never that intense, but here I was, feeling the total contentedness of it all, wrapping my body in a cocoon of blankets and pillows, feeling totally at peace I let the clock tick by rhythmically.

My eyes rid themselves of their sleep, clear as day I saw everything in high definition, the walls paint shining off the cracked beams of light, the curtains swaying so elegantly against the wind, the dust laying a thin coat across the warm toned floors, a homely sense to it all.

But trailing around the room, my eyes met to my right, silky h/c roots draped messily over the wrinkled pillow cover. Her skin was porcelain in the snowy downfall, cool breeze sneaking up on her pores, little bumps and chills shivering down her spine quickly and so smoothly it nearly looked like she had only shifted positions. Her lips jutted outwards, little puffs of air escaping freely past her lips, brows furrowed together intently, focused on her one track pace in her beautiful mind.

I couldn't help it when I reached up, thumb placed between her brows to smooth out the creases, watching with such deep focus as her features softened and her intense focus bubbled over into a dozy huff escaping in salty morning breath, I winced. Yet she laid perfectly still, cuddled up against her pillow, holding it tightly, attached to the cottony whiteness stuffed between her fingers.

My eyes traced her features from afar, face surely mush by now. My lips were upturned, cheeks round and rosy, eyes scrunched and gleaming, relaxed and shifting to inspect her. I looked at her adorningly, admiring every inch of her face, how her lips sucked into lick the dryness covering them. Absolutely infatuated with the simplest things she did with no memory of even knowing she'd done it. Hopelessly devoted to the girl, I watched sleepily, besotted over everything in that memory I held close, a snow day for us, I felt awestruck and love sick. Doting over her, I ignored how her hot breath tickled my neck, or how her knee had pressed up so tight against my thigh I broke a sweat between our heated bodies. I barely noticed how her baby hairs stuck to her forehead in curls or how her eyes leaked with the mornings tears for no reason, bottling up nothing but the wetness they held comfortably all day. Barely even saw how her lips parted again, drool stringing onto the pillow. Everything about her felt like I home, I looked to her for home.

One look, dark room Meant just for you

Maybe that's why I couldn't help but hold the sigh falling between my lips, or how the air came out too quick or harsh, blowing against the curl in her eyelashes. Maybe that's why her eyes dared open this late, and I'd forever blame myself for not turning away for even a moment, admiring her for a little longer, quieter, softer. Something so magnetic drew my gaze to her, making the bonds too heavy against my iris I couldn't force myself to look away while she laid in front of me so peacefully. But I would never forgive myself for ruining that moment I got with her without her even knowing, a stolen memory.

Time moved too fast You play it back

"H..?" She mumbled, eyes barely open, they fell closed against in a blink. One long blink, she licked her lips again, head lifting shakily against the weight of her feeble arms.

"Sorry lovie, didn't mean to wake you." My hand laid perched under my ear, head leaned into its side, a pocket formed between my palm and untamed curls.

I took my left hand again, raising it flatly against her forehead I laid her down gently into the mattress, her eyelashes fluttering shut with the spreading warmth from my fingertips, nails dug into her hairline carefully I praised her with a relieving scratch to her scalp.

"Harry, hun, why are you up this late? You need your rest, big day tomorrow." She coaxed me into her arms with her words, body leaning over to her chest, I rested my head in her hands, looking into her eyes body hovering far enough to only feel a sliver of heat come off of her tangled body beneath me. Her hands tangling through the dark sea of chestnut browns and golds swirling like cinnamon, sweet and strong.

I sighed contently against the smell of her lingering perfume, vanilla pastries and fresh strawberries mixing with my borrowed body wash that we now shared, soapy bubbles of dove tracing her skin delicately with the clean smell against her sensitive skin.

"Couldn't sleep. Just, can't stop admiring how peaceful you are. So beautiful against the moon it's unreal." I flirted, though, every word came off more as a confession than a flirtatious move.

She smiled though, she smiled tiredly, drooping eyes staring back at mine with so much admiration and appreciation, her hands removed themselves from the patterns of swirls and rubs against my scalp and stretched outwards, inviting me silently, an offer to become closer, body pressed to body I couldn't decline.

"Silly boy waking up a silly girl. Now bot of us are awake, wide awake." She added lastly, yawning and stretching out around my body, we lay tangled in each others limbs.

And the room fell silent, comfortable silence, I let my breathing stop, forced it to stop. Only to match my breaths to hers. Silly, I felt it, but it made me feel so much closer with just a simple action. And so we breathed, heart to head, breath to breath, her eyes looking down on me, I could feel it.

"Harry?" She whispered softly, shaking my body gently against her ribs.

"Hm?" I hummed contently.

"Lets go out." She spoke softly, almost unsure of her words.

"Okay." I agreed, barely moving.

So we stood at the door, bundling up for the snow, she hadn't brought a coat, insisting she didn't need one, I knew she did. I knew how the bitterness would eat her up, nip at her nose, turning a vibrant pink, hurt the lobes of her ears and the back of her throat, and I only wanted to keep her safe. Or that's what I told myself. No, I was truly selfish, thriving off of being, feeling close to her, her arms hanging short in the sleeves of my long coat. She struggled with the buttons, much like me, but I would never admit it; bulky and stiff against the thick fabric, I couldn't help but suppress a laugh at her efforts.

"Need some help buttoning up that prom dress of yours, hm?" I teased at the length, down to her knees, just a bit longer than where it fell at my thighs.

Buttons on a coat Light-hearted joke

"Shove it." She pointed towards me, a warning of a million deaths, shooting ice at my heart, only to melt it with the smile that followed and for a second in that smile. The very same smile that held a million hearts, a million frowns, millions of possible lovers, but she was with me. The same smile that made her cheeks perk up a the slightest angle out, like mine, made the skin gathered with freckles crinkle into a thin line, made her cheeks fluster a redish-pink. The smile I loved. And for a moment in that smile I felt something more behind it. Something growing, a warmth, a fuzz, some connection that grew nothing more than an unspoken agreement between the two of us.

No proof, not much But you saw enough

The car fell quiet, soft humming like a melody in my ears from the rocks beneath the sleek blackness of it all. The moon was out, shining still just a bright down on me, if not even brighter on her. My eyes drawn to her complexion, enraptured in how perfect she always looked through his eyes. How even the hip dips and the bloating couldn't look bad on her. No, it never did. Nothing ever did, she looked stunning, a perfect painting from Van Gogh, brush strokes so small, even close up you couldn't see them. So detailed, so hyper-realistic, so easy to study.

But her voice, her voice was so sweet. Each syllable dripped like honey past her plush pink lips, so sickeningly sugared I licked my lips every time my name fell past them.

"So, where are we off too? Just driving or..?" I spoke clearly, graininess and rasp leaking with the tiredness in my throat.

"I dunno'. Coffee could be nice." There it was, dripping from the wand, plunging and scooping out handfuls of smoothness into the air, I could taste its syrupy contents. The honey that came from her voice soothing my aching ears.

"Coffee?" I repeated back, lacking the melody she had in each line she spoke. I turned my head to face her, eyes repeating the short motion of looking to her.

"Could be nice. You know, since you woke me up I don't see a point in sleeping anymore, do you?" She testified, pleading her innocence to me. She looked at me so sweetly, so gently, so homely, my bones turned to jelly.

"Sure. Sounds sweet."

Small talk, he drives Coffee at midnight

"One large black coffee and uhm..." I looked over to the girl on the window, palm pressed to her cheek, she leaned further into the window, forehead pressed against the coolness of the glass.

"Actually can I get two?" I corrected myself, lips tugging upwards, I melt again, a puddle at her feet, a rope tied tightly around her finger, yet she didn't know. She never would, never could. She had so much power over me, so much and I adored every moment of it. Every second she was with me was something I held close, and this moment didn't weigh any less than the rest, something fresh to doddle over while she was away from my touch, my love.

The crackling of the speaker pulled me from my winding thoughts, my trance shaken off, not far forgotten yet, I held the wheel firmly to get closer to the sliding windows, plastered with tired smiles and friendly faces.

Still, I looked over to her every so often, making sure she was okay, just for a bit, she rested very still, breathing controlled and steady, she laid on the brink of sleep and consciousness. The drowsiness had lumped her shoulders, relaxing her muscles; she wavered from side to side with each little bump and movement. She almost fell, fell deeply into a sleep to be woken up from, from a sudden stop at a stop light.

The coffee scent burned her nose, I could see it. I could see how it scrunched and shifted under her furrowed brows, I smiled through the rear view, tapping my fingers on the wheel delicately.

"You weren't planning on sleeping, were you?" She asks delicately, as if I'll break though I know I'm so far from it. So desperately, madly, suffocatingly content with everything in this moment, I knew how the sheepish smiles I gave her looked. Scared, restless, sad maybe. But maybe I was just tired, or maybe it was her because I knew I had only been looking at her with admiration all night. Looking at her like the last sight I'd ever see before going blind. Seeing nothing but her in my memory.

"Hm?" I hum back, peering over my shoulder to see her body stretched across the middle consul, resting her chin in the curl of her fingers, slowly rubbing her chin, thinking.

"You never took your rings off. You never wear those to bed, I know it. I've seen you try to sleep with them on, stresses you out too much you told me." She motioned towards the bright crimson red radiating off the golds and silvers of my rings, the shine of the expensive bands wrapped tightly around my fingers, sliding on and off my like butter. She motioned towards the repeating tune, fingers tapping at the black fabric covering the wheel, thumbs rubbing up and down the leather leisurely.

"Oh. No, I must have forgot." I scratched my brain mentally, wondering if I really did plan to sleep tonight. I wondered if she hadn't woke up, would I have been able to pull myself from my state of conscious dreaming, eyes glued to her.

She laughed, I know she laughed, I heard it clear as day and my heart flipped. I felt all funny, hearing the breathy chuckles directed at my mindlessness, carelessness. I raised a brow, smirking in confusion, though I didn't seek an answer for her entertainment with my answer.

"I don't think I've ever seen you forget before, except once. Always tossing and turning. You get so restless with them on, its like its own reminder." She breathed out.

"Oh, really?" I countered, side eyeing her just a few times while our conversation carried.

"Positive." She looked to me, the road becoming nothing but a distant memory while I looked to her for a stolen second of her time.

The light reflects The chain on your neck He says, "Look up"

"You know," She started, "I still remember the first time I slept over, first time after we'd moved in." She sighed happily.

"You were so restless, I thought you were uncomfortable around me, being so close in a home to call ours for once. I got so nervous, I couldn't sleep that night knowing you had been sleeping like shit." She looked into my eyes, lulling me in under her spell.

"Sorry love, didn't mean to startle you, I had no idea, really." She brushed my concern off, picking back up her smile to continue her perspective of that night, a memory she held close, a memory of us, I was so infatuated with the way she remembered it so clearly I almost missed how she called it our home. Ours, like we were more than just a couple of kids who dated for a couple months then moved in. More than just a pair of twenty year old's with dreams too big for the both of them.

"God, I remember it so vividly now. You, you looked like a mess. I remember thinking how pretty you looked still, how I envied how perfect you were even in a state of lousiness. You-you had woken up with such tired eyes and a droopy frown. You had scooped me up so tight I couldn't breathe, I remember it, I adored it. I found it so cute how clingy you were to me, my back pressed against yours. I was sweating but you wouldn't let me move. So I started to twist the rings on your fingers, back and forth and you shot up. You sat up so quickly and practically ripped the rings off of your fingers, eyes blown wide. You made this whole speech about how stupid you felt too not have know. I found it so funny. You were so frustrated the whole day and slept right through your alarms the next morning." She though back on the memory, grinning from ear to ear, hiding behind her hand shyly.

"I remember that. I was so stressed when I woke up, almost forgot my shoes out the door." I joined her, reminiscing over the memory just as she had been.

"Didn't have the heart to wake you. You looked so at peace I didn't want to ruin it. I could only watch the clock from afar, listening to your snoring." She admitted honestly, and I could tell. Everything about her was honest, I liked that about her. Loved it even.

I smiled at her consideration.

"Well, thank you." I joked.

"You're welcome." She tilted her head, craning her neck back to meet her eyes with mine, eyelashes hanging low over her bright eyes.

Stopping at a stop sign briefly, I took the moment to lean down, eyelashes tickling mine, she pulled me in close by her cool red fingers, taking my chin between her hands and pressing a delicate kiss to her warm lips, spreading a wildfire through my body, it traveled down my spine and back up. I had never felt more loved, or happy to have forgotten my rings. So caught up, I almost didn't pull away.

But her lips tugging on mine, teeth caught between the glossy skin pulled me from my thoughts, and my eyes opened slowly. The first thing I saw were those sleepy eyes, those tired eyes I fell totally head over heels for. The eyes that could mend every promise or break them. And I felt nothing but pure bliss and comfort for it. For everything she'd done in that moment. For kissing me when I didn't ask for it, for no reason even. And I felt loved.

And your shoulders brush No proof, one touch But you felt enough

Driving home, coffee warmed the back of my hand, pressed delicately against the dorsal side, my fingers curled gently around hers, a strong hold squeezing them between the cracks, forced to intertwine them by only ourselves. I held her there, upright with my grip while she continued to doze off, eyes growing tired and sleepy again, we didn't speak a word but instead relished in the perfect silence spread between us. The melodic puffs of breath escaping past her lips in an even, slow pattern. She began to sink further into the black indents of the slippery leather seats, a shining string falling from the corner of her settled face. Her seatbelt tugged on her chest, holding her in place desperately, hair pushing up against her neck, her eyelashes batted open again.

You can hear it in the silence, silence, you

"Almost home, love." I assured her dozy conscious, knowing more would be too hard to translate into more than a jumble of words put together, so she only nodded, feeling the wave of exhaustion taking over her, only rambles being formed.

Still, she wiped the corner of her mouth of the thin trail of drool, letting it shine while it dried slowly on her skin, settling it down by the crook of her thumb that rested now, against the apple of her cheek. Her palm pushed against her skin, letting it tug up with a push to the rise of her brow. Her hand found its way to her lap again, sleep covering the pinks of her hazy eyes she took her dry hand, snaking it above my hand gripping the gear shifter. I watched her unsteadily tether our hands together, holding my heart with an invisible sting with each brush against the whites of my knuckles.

Smiling to myself, I kept my eyes on the road the best I could, the wildness encaptured in the greens of mine reflecting off of her capturing e/c ones. My hand slipped away from the sun-swallowing gear shifter, the creases in the warmth of my palm holding the cool pinkness of her skin so delicately in my never loosening grasp. I smoothed over the creasing on her knuckles, thumb tracing the tiny hairs settled on top of her skin, my lips pressed against the backs of her fingers, curling so tightly around the bend of my fingers, the faint mark of the gesture stuck to her skin like a temporary tattoo applied to her skin.

And she held it there, just like that, hand wavering with every bump, I felt her eyes land on the outline of my face, our voices silenced by nothing and everything at once. I watched her watch me from what felt like a distance, and I felt her hold me, enjoy this moment. Enjoy us.

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you

The blow away gravel from the wind had crumbled and rumbled under the rubber of the wheels as we pulled in, the car falling again, silent except for the muffled sounds of her staggering breaths in an attempt to warm her skin and the sipping of the stinging coffee. Hers was almost gone by now, mine untouched, hand remained in its place against my lips for the whole ride I didn't dare to remove her touch I had longed for while I had been admiring her all night through the beginning of the morning, the blackness of the early morning filling the space around us with a spotlight of moon dancing across her skin. I had never been more thankful to had been swallowed by the dull dark, the blush heating my face in a rush of heated pinks and reds. The moon painted her like Da Vinci, hair falling around her hunched over shoulders, legs bent up in a crossed position against the seat and my jacket, my jacket I wish I had now, the goosebumps rising on my skin from the heartless coolness of the London winter, I watched her body become engulfed in the largeness of the thick article, fingers peaking out of the sleeve, the other bunched up to hold her hand in mine.

"Home sweet home." She whispered to me, the look on her face endearing and genuine. It was like the dark circles pulling at her eyelids didn't bother her at all. All she cared about, all she focused on was studying the way my expression changed, she lowered her hand from my face and let it fall to see how my lips curled at each word she spoke. Each word dripping with honey as she spoke with silk and velvetiness it played like a new lyric with each sentence. I sighed deeply, looking back to the now dark garage, headlights dimmed to a dark death, the shine of the buttons of the car gone, the rumble or the engine silenced. The car came to a stop. I was home.

"Our home." I whispered back, looking over to her, our eyes met and all I could want to do was admire her just like earlier in the evening. From when she laid there, sleeping peacefully as little puffs of air fell past her lips with each appreciative sigh for her tired eyes, moon beaming down on her cheeks, highlighting her dimples and apples on her face. How her face scrunched, casting shadows along her soft skin. Now, the moon shined just as bright on her, if not even brighter. Her lips did not push out sighs, but instead curled into warm smiles and toothy grins. Her skin remained creaseless, shadows dancing carefully around her frame, moonlight admiring her silently, for our eyes to share.

You are in love, true love

I watched her slip up the stairs silently, afraid to make any sound too loud in the silence of the house. Nobody was disturbed in her presence, figure slipping between the creaky stairs and sinking into the plush carpet scattering between the creases in her socks. And I watched her slump further into herself so peacefully, lulling herself into a daze between sleep and restlessness. The coffee stung her tongue now I could tell, observing how carefully timed each time she jutted her lips out in a soft pout, lines forming delicately on her youthful skin, they bounced off as her tongue would push past the barrier of her raw lips, bitten away by the crisp cool air.

Her eyes pulled down just a little bit further, sleep gathering in every pocket between her eyes and the deepening hood she covered the dimming light with, blacks turning purple and purple to a deep blue resting faintly into her sunken bags. I watched her hands tug at the corners of her eyes in an attempt to rub away the sleep gathering. And I watched her fingers slip under her curled lashes, sweeping them away for a moment to brush away the crusting pieces holding her down from the darkened hallway, a siren luring her into the messed about sheets.

She sat in the bed, tucked away in a ball on top of the covers still wrapped tightly into my large jacket, pockets serving a home for her trembling hands. She was tired, kept up for far too long but fighting her drooping eyes and lazy smile was the caffeine she'd sipped slowly on just moments ago.

Smiling I reached for her elbows, my large hands hooking around her much smaller elbows and lifting her hands free from the coat to free her body of the outside smell and cool breeze lingering in the material. A chuckle left her mouth, smile wide and dazed as her eyes searched mine. My fingers working against those stubborn buttons, I was determined to hold her eye contact to mine do matter how much longer this took.

Finally the last button slipped through the hole almost too small for it and the coat slipped from her shoulders leaving her arms bare once again. The air stilled around her, cool air not to be found anymore, she felt confident in throwing the clothing on the floor for tomorrow, sure enough she wouldn't need it any longer tonight. She patted at the bed next to her, allowing me to crawl up next to her with my knuckles popping softly at the pressure. She grimaced and stuck out her tongue, silently begging me to please stop making that sound.

"Come on H, don't ruin it now. Just got us back into bed." She smiled, allowing herself to become engulfed in my arms as I pulled her frame into mine with everything I could. her cheek pressed against my shoulder and her feet curled under themselves, digging into the mattress as we stared off into the room, admiring the home we'd made.

"What time do you leave tomorrow?" Her question hung in the silent air, breaking it in half. I felt slightly tensed at the question. A reminder of everything he tried to prolong.

"What time do you want me to leave?" I tried.

"Never. Oh, never!" She pushed against my body, folding us backwards until our backs hit the mattress and all that was left was out hands intertwined. We stared at the ceiling, lips curled into a gentle smile. barely there, but presenting itself enough to see it even in the half lit room. She huffed out a breath.

"Be serious with me, H. How long?" She tried again, wanting the truth, the answer she dreaded.

I pondered my answer for a moment, not wanting to ruin what was built around us in the moment. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and I swallowed nothing but dryness.

"My flight leaves at 7. Should be out of the house at 5:30, hopefully." The words were direct. The answer she wanted, but wish she didn't. I saw her nod her head out of the corner of my eyes, her lips twitching into a frown but quickly holding a smile again, smaller but upturned still.

"But you'll be back, right? We'll make it through this?" She was turned to me now. My attention pulled from the roof to her eyes. they were watery, much more leaky than before but I wouldn't point it out, nor would I point out the shakiness of her voice and the fear from her tone. It would embarrass her more.

"Always." I promised. She smiled at that. Bigger than before and she trusted me. She believed it, allowing herself to rest her head closer to me that before, hair scattered across my chest messily as her eyes finally closed.

"Always." She repeated, holding it close as her breathing steadied.

How could she even question it? She was the only one I ever wanted to spend my nights watching from the same bed. Who else would request coffee at such late hours of the night, technically day by this point. No, no one else could even hold a small amount to how cute she looked in my clothes, or how she made my heart swell by just being in the same room. She was the only one I had been able to promise this to, anyways. I was always left unsure before tour. I can always tell someone something, but it would never last very long. I was never sure if I was truly meaning what I was saying. Everything ended and I was lifted out of my heart broken state in weeks. But her, I was sure we would work. If she ever even mentioned how cold the bed was without me to fill the space beside her curled up body I would fly the damn plane home myself to hold her myself. I would walk the ends of the earth to see her happy and I couldn't be more sure of the fact that I didn't want to lose her. I couldn't.

Morning, his place Burnt toast, Sunday You keep his shirt He keeps his word And for once you let go Of your fears and your ghosts One step, not much But it said enough

The next day came too quickly. Way too quickly for what I wanted. Secretly I hoped that it would be endless and we could stay cocooned together for longer. Just holding each other and whispering little jokes and promises to each other. She fell asleep in my arms where she laid when our promises were made. Her head on my chest and her arms draped around my ribs while I held her close on her side against me. Her soft snores broke out every so often when it got too hot or too stuffy and she would stop to wiggle her nose subconsciously. Her hair tickled my nose and so five minutes later it was tucked beneath my chin enough to keep the wisps from tickling my skin anymore but not enough to inflict enough feeling that her eyebrows bunched together in a sour thought.

It was hard to move form the warm position but it was already much later than I had wanted to leave by, or told myself I would. I knew I wouldn't have been able to leave her so quickly. So I was up only twenty minutes before I was set to leave instead of hours ahead of time, playing with her hair while she gently stirred, tired and foggy in memory of what was happening. I whispered sweet nothings into her ears and ghosted my fingers over her curves to wake her from her sleepy state. Her smile was dropping but still bright as she crawled out of bed, ready to make a quick breakfast.

She kissed my forehead longingly before slipping out of the room with a small mumble of what she could make in such short time before I left. She said something about complaining about eggs, fighting with herself on how easy they should be but how they always turned out slightly runny or too cooked to the point where they were too crispy and burnt tasting. I watched her shuffle along to her own voice without her realizing yet again, head turning to face her more and more. I let her slip away into the darkness until we were separated. Her from the darkness of the stairs and me the brightness blinding my vision from the bathroom lights.

You kiss on sidewalks You fight then you talk One night he wakes

Though I had a ride, she insisted she drove. The car ride there was silent. Not the kind of silent that hung between us last night in the car. That was a light, comfortable silence that was created by the loss of topics that hung from our mouths. No, this felt more eerie. Like a darkness was waiting to encage us into it any moment. It felt like something was weighing the laughter and comfort down by a ball and chain. I was so busy analyzing the awkwardness I almost missed the tears forming in her eyes and her hand wiping them away just as quick as they came. I almost didn't see the airport just out the window. It was like the hangover or discomfort silenced the sound of tires stopping into a parking spot.

She was quick to get out of the car, grabbing my bag from the trunk, not daring to take another step without me. I followed her like I always do, always will. My hand rested heavily on her shoulder, letting her lead me to the correct gate and sit us down. My hand stuck to her palm like superglue. I held it there, knuckles brushed against my cupids bow, eyes brows relaxed and eyes fluttering shut from the early mornings and late last nights.

God, I'm going to miss those late nights and early mornings.

"Harry, baby." Her voice still dripped with sweetness and candies. Honey still soothing the burn in my throat. It woke me from my thoughts with a gentle shake.

"You're boarding. Don't want to miss the flight." She smiled at me, her hand not dropping from my lips I curled my lips into a smiled and stood with her.

My arms were quick to engulf her in a bear hug. I swallowed her whole in my jackets and hats, swaying from side to side in an embrace that turned into a kiss. I leaned into her first, lips messily clashing with hers while steady our movements from the swaying. I kissed her hard and passionate, a kiss that begged her to come with me, or tell me not to go. To kick and scream until I had to stay. But she never would. this was my job, we both knew I had to go. I signed up to be in a band, I signed up for this. For tour. I signed up, not her. She didn't sign up. I felt wrong. Why did I feel wrong?

She pulled away first, holding my biceps with a firm grip and a sparkle in her eyes. Her lips were bitten raw, from this morning. She tried to make me eggs. Sunny side up, my favorites. They became scrambled but at least she tried. But she didn't see it that way. She wanted to send me off with a good breakfast and worried about it the entire time spent over the stove. But they were pulled into a smile now, eyebrows not furrowed in anger or sadness. She was staring at me in pure admiration, holding me. But I felt sour about it all.

"What's wrong, H?" She was quiet, not wanting to alarm anyone else who could recognize us. "Don't you want to go? Remember how excited you were a couple months ago? Used to always talk about how you would get to go to the states and bring me back the biggest snow globe you could find. Remember?" She questioned, making herself smile at the memory of us sitting drunkenly on the couch at the beginning of the year. My arms outstretched telling her to make room and get rid of her couch so she could replace it with a giant snow globe. It was the first time he'd realized it fully. But he was in love with her.

"You better...you better call someone to get rid of this couch be-because when I get back I'm bringing you the biggest snow globe I can find and it's going r-right here baby!" I slurred, falling back into the arm rest.

"N-no! I like our couch! We can get rid of the dinning table!" She giggled, covering her mouth to muffle the loud sounds escaping her lips.

"How about I just buy us a snow globe and we can live in it!"

"Yes...oh my god H, are you sure you didn't go to college?" She leaned closer, smelling the alcohol radiating off of both of their shared breath.

"Let me tell you something y/n, flatter works on me and it's working!" I leaned in closer to her, our noses touching as we shared drunken giggles, feet tangling and eyes fluttering from the hot air below.

"I know! I know you so well!" She had slurred, eyes looking into mine so closely they almost merged into just one eye in my intoxicated state.

"I know! I know!" I yelled louder than I meant to, y/n quickly pushing her finger to my lip and shushing me in a drawn out "Shhh!" sound making us fall into a fleeing giggle that quieted down after only a moment.

I let a beat pass before the words on my mind finally slipped.

"Can I tell you something?" I smiled. She nodded enthusiastically.

"Okay but its a secret so you can't...you can't tell anybody!" I drew out my y's to add emphasis.

"Okay I promise! I promise just tell me, H!" She had giggled. My face fell serious.

"Y-you're my bestfriend." I managed, hiccupping at the end of my poorly put together sentence.

She smiled at that, letting the silence take us over as we shared a knowing smile and began to laugh again at the silence, finding everything and nothing funny.

Strange look on his face Pauses, then says "You're my best friend." And you knew what it was He is in love

You can hear it in the silence (silence), silence (silence) you You can feel it on the way home (way home), way home (way home) you You can see it with the lights out (lights out), lights out (lights out) You are in love, true love

I smiled, tearing up in the corners of my eyes, laughing with ourselves quietly at the stupid memory.

"I'm just going to miss having my bestfriend around everyday. Love you so much, can't be without you." She admired my face for a moment, pausing to think of what to say, she bit her lip again, catching blood from the ripped skin between her canines.

"I'll miss you too. Everyday for the rest of this stupid tour. And I'll call you every chance I get and make you answer. Keep calling until you do. Keep asking when you're gonna come home with that stupid snow globe." We shared a laugh again, my lips capturing hers softer this time, not as rushed or needy but in an acceptance.

"Better get on that flight then." I broke this kiss with a breath, smiling against her forehead.

"I guess if you have to." She joked, handing me my bags. "Call me when you land, need to know you're okay." She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, holding her palm to my cheek for a second longer, trying to find the words she wanted to say. There were so many running through her head in this short moment, so many with not nearly enough time. It was hard to filter through the ones she needed to say and wanted to.

And so it goes You two are dancing in a snow globe 'round and 'round And he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars And why I've spent my whole life trying to put it into words

"I love you."

"I love you more."

'Cause you can hear it in the silence You can feel it on the way home You can see it with the lights out You are in love, true love You're in love

I kept my words, but I still felt sour without her. She had only been with me for such short amounts of time. Barely three years but still so long I felt I knew her for longer. I suddenly forgot how to eat, sleep, breathe without her around to lean on or to hold. So I am stuck clinging to the pieces I'm left with until I can see her again. I'll fill my time with her voice on facetimes that rack up the phone bills and I'll search everyplace I go to find her the biggest snow globes there are. And I'll fill the silence with her voicemails before I go on stage and I'll circle the days I get to see her again with red pen on my calendar. These are things she'll never see, but when I come back I know she'll know.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #you are in love #1989taylorswift #hslot23

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teatreeoilll · 11 months ago

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ViolinProdigy!Megumi has my heart. w/c - 600 (Reposted from my old blog which I don't have access to anymore (thanks Tumblr), if you liked it reblogs or likes would be appreciated to get me back on track since I've lost all my followers and half my work :(

“You’re biting your nails again, Fushiguro.”

“What?” He takes a split second to register your words before letting the hand near his mouth dig back into his pocket, “Uh, sorry.”

“I like seeing you nervous,” you admit, barely audible beneath the wave of applause coming from the auditorium.

He sighs at the noise, placing a long finger near his ear, waiting for you to repeat yourself.

“I said ‘Good luck with your performance’!” You smile bashfully, nudging at the door where the stage manager waves frantically at Megumi.

He nods at the man, kneeling down to run gentle fingers on the clasps of the violin case to undo them, taking out the instrument before following the stage manager out of the waiting area.

Even though you have a seat reserved in one of the spaces prearranged for friends and family, you watch him through the crack of the stage door, listening to the other soloists groan as soon as Megumi swings his bow onto the strings.

"It's precise," a light-haired boy says, resting his arms on his own violin case, "but emotionless."

You feel your face grow red; the perfect sounds tickling your ears are nothing but pure feeling.

"Quiet, Naoya." An older man beside him chides, tugging at his thick English-style mustache. "If you listen, you might understand why your ass fits so well in the second place."

Megumi's quiet all the way to the train station. He finds a seat on a bench in a secluded corner, scooting to the side to make room for you.

"First place again, huh, Fushiguro?" You elbow him, trying to interrupt his pensive state.

He only utters a small Mh-hmm, watching another full train depart from the platform, clutching at the violin case resting on his leg.

"You should be happy, Megumi."

"It wasn't perfect," he mutters.

"It was perfect, you should have heard Nayoa's whines as soon as you started playing!" you beam, hoping it would improve his mood, but he just stares off into the space between the bench and the platform.

The train ride felt long, and his legs grew weary of standing pressed against a crowd of people - but despite living a far way from where your station was, Megumi stepped out together with you, like he always did, just to walk you home.

"Why did you say you liked seeing me nervous?" He finally utters when you cross the bridge exiting the station.

"I thought you didn't hear that," you mumble, trying to swallow to relieve the dryness forming in your throat, "I guess it just makes you look more, uh - human?"

"You're saying I don't look human?" He furrows his brows, coming to a halt behind you.

"I don't mean it like that," you turn to face him, watching his features under the yellow light of the street lamp, "You just look so rigid all the time that I -," you lift your arm to press two fingers to the bridge of his nose, smoothing out the wrinkles formed there by his expression, "I like to be reminded that you have feelings, too."

"I have feelings, y'know." He says, a blush creeping on his cheeks.

"I know, I just said you do!"

You walk the rest of the way home in silence, secretly scolding yourself for saying something so brazen. You smile at him when you reach your doorstep, delivering a quick 'See you tomorrow' before stepping inside.

Megumi takes the long route to his house, repeating the same phrase over and over; "I have feelings for you (Name)," he utters silently into the air, "Just tell her dumbass, it isn't that hard."

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi X reader #megumi X you #megumi X y/n #megumi fushiguro X you #jjk fic

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whorediaries-09 · 1 year ago

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delicate

pairing: sirius black x reader warning: self-harm, hurt-comfort, angst, fluff, friends to lovers a/n- you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same.

masterlist

you hear your name being called out through the cackles of wood fusing up in the fierce flame of the fire. your numb eyelids flutter as your open your eyes. your throat feels sore and lips dry.

'yes?' you whisper, a harshness in your voice due to the dryness of your throat. your eyes avert around the common room, the notes for your upcoming O.W.L.S spread on your lap. you had been revising for history of magic-a dull subject really which had been the cursed lullaby that made you fall asleep.

'who is it?' you speak, louder than the last time, squinting in the dim light to look out for the face of the speaker.

'it's me,' a familiar voice answers. you raise your eyebrow questioningly, a tired throb seizing your forehead.

'me who?' you question.

'oh-me james.' the voice calls out. you sigh.

'james, there's no one in the common room. get rid of your cloak will you?'

'um-i'm here to carry you back to the boy's dorm.'

you squint. you stack all your notes on your lap and press them to your chest, getting up from the chair.

'huh? why?' you question, 'on second thoughts, let me drink some water first will you?'

****

'ruddy leave me the fuck alone,' he rumbles. the nimb candlelight shapes his razor sharp cheekbones, the slight stubble on his cheeks and porcelain skin. his wet eyelashes flutter, his hair in a messy bun as he sniffs softly. he sits at the corner of his bed post, white sheets sprawled around, stained in blood. you try to hold his hand, examining his fresh scar.

gingerly, you tuck a stray flyaway behind his ear.

'sirius?' you whisper, tenderly, almost motherly. his sniffs harder at your voice. you crawl closer to him, trying to make eye contact, but he doesn't look at you. he stares at the flick of the candle. you stare at his lips which mumble constantly, something incoherent.

'sirius,' you whisper, however with a firm tone in your voice. you don't realize when it happens, or how it happens, but before you can blink, you feel the weight of his arms around your shoulder and him pulling you closer to his chest as he sobs into your hair.

you listen to the rest of your friends' footsteps fading from the dorm.

****

his voice is thick as he speaks, head on your lap. you braid charmed flowers into his hair. he tousles with the drawstring of his pajamas, moonlight basking his features,

'you know, you could be a great mother,'

you smile, slapping softly on his forehead.

'ouch,' 'that's for being the smuggest tosspot.' you say, offering him s nudge on his nose.

'is that so?' he questions. 'yes.' there's a silence which hovers between the two of you as you interlock sections of his hair. you bite your lip, wrinkling your eyebrow as you fasten the rubberband on his hair.

'there, princess,' you wink. he offers you a weak smile, blankly staring in your eyes. you smile, locking your hand with his,

'you know, i've always admired your bravery. as a matter of fact, i've always admired you.' he pushes a finger upon your lips, silencing you.

'i'm not one to be admired.'

you reply, your lips brushing against his fingers, 'you are sirius,'

he breaths softly. you hear his heart thumping, the whooshing of the wind, the leaves dancing with it. you run your finger over a scar on his forehead. you don't realize you're doing it, however, you lean towards him. his warm breath fans over your face. goosebumps erupt on your skin, the smoke on his breath tantalizing your nostrils. his hand cups your face, bringing you closer to his. he whispers your name, his lips brushing against yours,

'do you want this?' your grip on his hand tightens as butterflies attack your stomach. his fingers tuck your stray hairs behind your ear as you whisper,

'yes. i do want this. i do want you.'

that's all it takes for him to capture your lips with the sweetest sin of pleasure.

ps- is anyone interested in a dark sirius black fic 😳😰

#sirius x reader #sirius black smut #the marauders #harry potter #sirius black #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #sirius black angst #sirius black fluff #james potter

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isalisewrites · 8 months ago

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TERRIBLE, BUT GREAT - CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

SUMMARY:

“Harry Potter.” The cold burrowed into his flesh, the scent of cloying death and molding earth clogged his senses.

“The Boy Who Lived.”

A strange sense of loss and disappointment rose within him. That brilliant, yet cruel boy could’ve been so much more if he’d not stepped down this bloodied path.

Terrible, but great. He pitied this creature.

“Come to die.”

Harry Potter faced the flash of green light with the bravery of a Gryffindor and the broken heart of a Hufflepuff.

---

When Death gives Harry a third option, one that can save everyone he ever cared about, he takes it unflinchingly. Even when that means doing the impossible: falling in love with the enemy, Tom Riddle.

---

TWENTY-EIGHT EXCERPT:

That godforsaken, flaming chicken cutlet was going to be the death of him.

Getting out of bed felt like walking through thick mud. Exhaustion permeated through his flesh, deep into his muscles, down to his very bones. He’d never experienced exhaustion at this depth before. Tom rubbed his eyes, willing them to open through the burn and weight of his eyelids. He hated not getting up before the others. He valued his privacy. These nightmares were going to be the end of him.

Stupid, useless mortal frame.

What day is it?

Something, something… Transfiguration? No, wait. Ancient Runes was before Transfiguration… unless it was Monday, which meant Charms was before Transfiguration.

Tom vigorously rubbed his forehead, trying to think.

It wasn’t Monday. That much he was sure of, since detention on Sunday felt like a distant memory. He’d attended Potions and DADA yesterday - and failed spectacularly at them, too - which meant today was Wednesday.

Salazar, how was he supposed to function in his classes today if he could barely remember the day of the week?

When the dormitory went silent, signifying the others had left, Tom got out of bed. It took five tries with his wayward wand before he gave up on it and attempted, quite begrudgingly, to wandlessly cast the refreshing charms on himself. On his second try, his robes freshened up with a light pine scent. The wrinkles smoothed out and his hair styled primly with nary a curl out of place.

Charms would have to do, instead of the old fashion way. He refused to look out of sorts more than he already was.

He walked out of the Slytherin common room and to the Great Hall in a blurry haze. His steps were wooden; his bag felt heavier than normal on his back. He sat at the table, mind empty and blank. God, he was tired. Tom reached for a pot and filled his mug to the top. He drank half of it before he realized what it was and grimaced at the bitter taste. Blegh. Coffee. Damn. He hated coffee. Tea—where was the tea?

He took another big gulp of coffee, regretting every second of it. He couldn’t hold back the soft groan of disgust. A pinch of pain flushed through his head from the bitterness of the coffee. He set his mug aside, grabbing a drink of water to clear some of the taste.

“Good morning, said Harry softly. Tom blinked. When did he sit beside me? Concern laced through those green eyes. “Are you all right, Tom?”

“I’m fine,” said Tom, clipped. He cleared the hoarseness from his throat and lifted his glass of water in a grimace. “Just drinking some coffee.”

Now leave me alone.

With slow, careful movements, Harry set a different pot next to his plate. He gently pushed the jar of honey closer.

“Here,” whispered Harry.

Tom stared at the pot of tea. His chest twisted; it ached in a strange way. The discomfort slipped to his gut and Tom swallowed through the sudden dryness in his throat. He didn’t meet Harry’s eyes as Tom reached for an empty mug and poured himself a cup of tea. He mixed two spoonfuls of honey into it. As he brought the mug to his lips, Tom drew in a deep breath, the scent of the sweet chai relaxing the tension in his body.

Tom swallowed back the lump in his throat. “Thank you.”

Harry smiled softly, nodded, and went back to his breakfast.

Dammit. Why did Tom feel so uncomfortable? He didn’t know what to think any more, what to feel any more. The urge to escape his very self shook his limbs, but Tom couldn’t hide from himself. He wanted to hide, bury his head in the sand, and flee from this strange sensation inside his chest.

#harry potter #tom riddle #harry potter fanfic #tomarry #hp #hp fanfic #terrible but great #harrymort #fanfic #fanfiction #mywriting #isa's writing #harry potter/tom riddle

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crevicedwelling · 2 years ago

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hello! i really enjoy all your slug images :) im curious, do you know how/why the texture of your slugs changes so drastically? it’s really neat to see how they kinda wrinkle up! also, is there a reason they sometimes look stretched out really long vs bunched up blob?

they bunch up defensively or when resting, with their thick skin providing protection from dryness and predators. they stretch out when moving.

(sped up video of Sarasinula plebia)

#leatherleaf slug #bugs

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theteasetwrites · 2 years ago

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The Wrinkle

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 9/10 Interim (The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning series) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: very vaguely sexual if you squint (just some kissing and a butt grab) ❧ Word Count: 1.3k

❧ Summary: Aging is a natural part of life, but when you notice a wrinkle, it's hard not to be a little sad. Your husband, however, reminds you that you're still just as beautiful, and so is your wrinkle.

❧ A/N: Another oneshot that takes place in the same universe as my series because I am procrastinating writing the last chapters 😀 (but tbh this fic also works as a standalone piece because I didn't really reference anything that happens in the series). I just want to keep writing for them forever, you know? Anywho, I was inspired by all the anti-aging talk on social media I've been seeing lately. People have always been obsessed with looking young, and skincare companies often profit off that insecurity, which is something I've been thinking about a lot. I haven't seen anything where the Reader is a little insecure about her aging, so why not write a comfort fic about that? Aging is beautiful, btw. 💕

Honey, olive oil, aloe, oats…

You’d tried everything, every natural ingredient you could get your hands on. Every moisturizer you made seemed to work on some level—your skin was always soft, at least. The dryness was quenched, and, most importantly, you were happy with your face, for perhaps the first time in your life.

Happy, until one night, you saw it.

“Oh, God,” you gasped, leaning over the bathroom sink as you rubbed in your moisturizer just the same way you did every night. Tonight, though, was different. By the light of the lantern you’d placed on the shelf beneath the mirror, you saw the smallest sliver of a… You couldn’t even bear to think of the word.

It was a line, near the outer corner of your eye. It curved downwards slightly, representing the movement of your cheek when you smiled. Only now, you weren’t smiling. You were frowning in disappointment at the image in the mirror. How could you be getting crow’s feet at this age? You were still young, weren’t you? Aren’t I?

“Everythin’ okay in there?” Daryl’s voice called out from the bedroom, just beyond the door. “Been in there a while, hon.”

“Fine.” Not fine. “Just moisturizing.” Lots of good it does.

“Well, hurry up, woman,” he teased. “I gotta take a piss.”

You scoffed, turning the copper knob of the door with a slippery, oily hand. “Come in,” you sighed. “I’m almost done anyway.” You turned back to face the mirror, dabbing another few fingertips worth of moisturizing cream.

He shook his head as he watched you meticulously massaging the concoction until it was completely absorbed by your skin. It was always a fascinating sight. He never understood it completely, but just as you allowed him to engage in his interests, he allowed you yours. Still, he couldn’t help but think sometimes you cared too much about looking pretty, when to him, you didn’t need to put any effort in at all.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, placing a rather drawn out kiss upon your shoulder, where the skin was exposed by your thin strapped nightie. His hand rubbed your other shoulder, taking his opportunity to feel how naturally soft you were, even without moisturizer.

You offered a reluctant smile as you looked back at him in the mirror. “Thank you… I don’t feel like it.”

Now that baffled him. You’d never been very confident in yourself, he knew that. You were alike in that way. It was tiresome for him, though. He knew your beauty better than anyone, and for you to not see it was heartbreaking. Then again, you felt the same way when he refused to accept his beauty. You were both much too humble for your own good.

Still behind you, he swept back a handful of your hair, revealing the supple flesh of your neck. “Why not?” he asked, then gave himself the pleasure of tasting your neck with his gentle, slightly ticklish lips. That always made you feel better. Usually.

“I—I… just found a wrinkle.”

Detaching his lips, he looked up at you to furrow his brow. As he searched your face, each curve and line so familiar to him, he couldn’t see anything had changed.

“What’re you talkin’ ‘bout, girl?”

You reached over to turn up the flame in the lantern, brightening the small bathroom. “Look.” You pointed to the spot just at the corner of your eye. “A little wrinkle, right by my eye.”

Squinting didn’t help. He leaned forward, still trying to see what the hell you were so worried about. Finally, he pinpointed the vague, shallow line, almost more like a little shadow that stood on its own. It was hardly anything to him.

“Pfft,” he scoffed. “That ain’t a wrinkle.” He ran his hand through the hair on his scalp to pull back his bangs, putting his face completely on display for you. “You wanna see wrinkles? Looky here.”

Only Daryl could make you snort when you felt like feeling sorry for yourself. “Stop,” you laughed. “You hardly have any wrinkles. Besides, you’re older than me anyway. I’m only thirty-two.”

“Yeah,” he said. “And you got no damn wrinkles. Even if ya did, you’d still be a stone cold fox, so just believe me when I say you’re the most beautiful damn woman in the world, okay?”

Though you were sure you’d never believe that, it did feel terribly good to know Daryl still found you attractive. It was ingrained in you to want, to need, approval from men, and it took you a long time to get out of that mindset. Hell, it was still there to an extent, but Daryl was the only man whose approval you cared about now, only because you knew he’d never break your heart or take advantage of that trust you put in him.

“Daryl,” you laughed, your cheeks filled with a hot blush at his words. “Thank you, but—”

When his hands cupped your cheeks, his gaze softened, as if to make sure you knew what he was doing. Of course, you did. He kissed you, his lips enjoying the taste of your natural moisturizer. A small whimper from you melted into his mouth like candy on his tongue, while your arms tangled loosely around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer to you.

You always loved the feeling of his warm, strong hands upon your hips, gently squeezing the soft flesh there. He’d often lower his right hand, using it to squeeze your bottom, always making you squeak softly against his lips.

“Oh!” you laughed. He was so predictable. “Stop it!” You playfully slapped at his bare chest, with little to no strength in your flimsy hands. Because he knew you weren’t serious, he squeezed a little more, causing you to stand on your tippy toes and gasp a little more. If anyone could distract you from your little insecurities, it was Daryl.

His lips poked at every little spot of skin on your face, which was scrunched up in faux annoyance. Your laugh, and your wide, toothy grin, were proof enough that his wild, impromptu kisses and less than innocent bottom-squeezes were working like a charm.

“What am I gonna do with you, angel?” he asked, his lips becoming tired and his mouth beginning to downturn in a sudden expression of seriousness. His weather-worn fingers lifted your hair from your face, pinning it back behind your ears. There was an unmistakable hurt in his eyes. Only you knew the extent of his sensitivity, his ability to feel what you felt. When you told him that you don’t feel beautiful, it killed him. “What do I gotta do to make ya see how perfect you are?”

You sighed as you watched your own hands absentmindedly rub his broad shoulders, the smattering of freckles all over them always a comfort to you. Many nights you’d lay in his arms, just counting them as his low, gravelly voice lulled you into a deep, warm sleep.

“Just hold me,” you said. “That makes me feel beautiful, being close to you.”

That smile of his always melted you, had you like putty in his hands. It was small and a little lopsided, and you could only see a sliver of his wide, slightly jagged teeth, but it was like your life force. Seeing him smile, seeing him happy, for just one minute, meant everything to you. Of all people you’d ever met, he deserved, more than anyone, to be happy. That was your job.

“All right, pretty girl.” He pulled you close once again to press a small kiss to your forehead. “I’ll hold ya.” Just like he did every night. Still, you could never get enough of it.

“But first,” he added, letting go of you, “I gotta take a piss.”

He was always so romantic.

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Masterlist

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