Kawaii 🩵

kawaii 🩵

nice boys and sour hearts | satoru gojo x reader

wc: 4.6k cw: minor swearing, he refers to u as 'momma' once (its normal i promise) n i think thats about it post suguru defection, shoko typical smoking ; no established relationship b ur def more than friends

i didnt want this angst to be too intense so i made it super duper fluffy. hopes it tastes like strawberries to u cs it does in my head ; another one of those fics i whipped up to meet the weekend deadline b i’m actually proud of this one not proofread!

satoru hates arguing with you.

it bites at him; twists his heart from the inside out in such a gut-wrenching way that he can hardly stand seeing your nose wrinkle in frustration and your eyes narrow with impatience, let alone hear the words coming out of your mouth, dripping with venom and irritation directed at him. he's never been used to being on the receiving end.

it tastes sour; bitter on his tongue in a way he's never been accustomed to. his tastebuds only recognize the sweet taste of fruit syrup, powdered sugar, or warm chocolate as home; he never indulges in the bitter, like the black coffee the kid he took in seems to like so much. but he'll take the silly sour lemon drops with sweet cream in the center, only because they remind him of you. you, so sweet when you love but sour when you're annoyed, which happens to be now, in this instant.

of course, he'll tell himself he doesn't mind. that sweet and sour have always gone nicely together. like strawberry lemonade on hot summer afternoons when the both of you have had enough of being stuffed into a clammy hot classroom with your musclebrain teacher. sometimes its the three of you, maybe even the four of you if you get lucky with the pixie stick trade offering (a healthier alternative to a cigarette, you both agreed on). but nowadays, it was only ever the two of you. the bitter had chosen his own path, and tangy was locked up in the infirmary sun up to sun down.

but right now, you're upset with him. and he absolutely despises it— to him, it's abhorrent. a strong word, but it's only fitting. but he can't help it when your conversation lingers in his mind, spinning itself a web of self-doubt and hurt and anger as he slips his gym shoes off and redresses himself by the school lockers, running a hand through his hair with a forced, annoyed exhale.

it was nothing big, really. or at least, that's what he thinks. you'd been in the gym after school, watching as he messed around with the basketball, seeing how long he could go dribbling by himself with a bump of his knee there, pushing it to the floor with his hand and watching it bounce back up with mild interest. he had no one to play with, but at least the ball would come back up no matter how much he pushed it down.

it was small. barely worth fussing over.

he had already been irritated. it was hot out, because summer was coming around. sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down his chest, seeping into his shirt as he wiped his forehead and made another shoot at the hoop, landing back on his feet with a soft thud as the basketball rattled around the rusted metal ring and fell through the net for the nth time that afternoon.

a hum of approval comes from your throat, followed by a loud whistle of contentment from him as he watches the ball bounce on the floor. he hikes his sunglasses up his forehead, bringing an arm up and wiping away the sweat on his cheek with his sleeve as he turns to look at you.

"that was pretty good, yeah? i think i deserve a celebratory smooch. lay some sugar on me, momma'." he laughs, loud and arrogant. you just give him a pointed look at that, but he ignores it as a sign for something wrong and only acknowledges it as your dramatic endearment. like speeding up at the sight of a yellow light in hopes that you'll make it instead of slowing down at the warning.

his shoes made squeaking sounds on the gym floor as he made his way over to you, swiping his shades off his face and sliding them onto your forehead, nestling in your hair as he grabbed a rag from the bench and wiped the sweat from his jaw. you have his uniform jacket on your lap, the yellow button glinting in the dying sunlight filtering in through the windows, reflecting off indiscernible flecks of dust in the air.

you had watched him with quiet contentment, observing the languid way he moved, graceful like a dancer moving in water. but then, you seemed to remember something; his lips pressed into a thin line, tilted to one side in anticipation. it made you hesitate— he always knew when you were about to speak before you even opened your mouth. he had come to notice, and appreciate, little things about you like that.

"were you smoking with shoko?" you had asked him. he tilted his head, eyebrow cocked up as he made a face. "no, i wasn't. why d'ya ask?" he huffed, watching from the corner of his eye with mild disinterest as the basketball, still rolling from his previous goal, bumped into the wall. cocky as ever.

(he wouldn't even look you in the eye when you were being dead serious.)

you reach a hand into his jacket, fishing around for something in his pocket; that gets his attention. who knows what trinkets and candy wrappers he has in there? and he'd hate for you to send him to his yearly checkup early again; the nurses always try to coddle him, and he has half a mind to charge for battery. nevertheless, he almost mistakes what you pull out for a lollipop stick. but it's not— it's a cigarette; a white papery hit of cancer with a dead cherry. certainly not a wise idea to keep that in his pocket among the other very flammable wax wrappers and the occasional flower petal, but who were you to judge? you, who's lips pucker like they've just tasted lemon juice when he eyes the unlit cigarette, utterly unamused.

he knows that you know it's his; the subtle glistening of pink around the end points to the gloss on his lips; he can practically taste it on his tongue. he wonders if you'd put the cigarette to your mouth too if you could have a sample of his lipgloss; then again, you could always just ask for a lip-to-lip taste, and he'd indulge you without a second thought.

you twist the cigarette butt between your fingers so that he can see the remnants of faint strawberry pink on the edges. he just rolls his eyes with a loud huff, leaning his weight back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pant pockets.

"yeesh. you're such a goody two shoes, y'know? how come shoko's allowed to smoke 'n i'm not?" he drawls, an arrogant lilt to his voice as he sticks his lower lip out. you can see a matte spot where the gloss had been transferred to the cigarette paper. you just sigh exasperatedly (he feels like a kid when you do that) and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. his jacket bunches up in your lap.

you tap the cigarette to his chest a few times; it makes a soft thumping sound against the fabric, and for a moment he's grateful of the noise; it sounds just like the way his heartbeat picks up with each touch, but you don't hear it. he wonders if you ever will. maybe one day, when there isn't so much distance between you and he has the opportunity to tuck your head to his chest, right over his heart.

"it's not that i care about the lung damage, idiot. why were you smoking?" you asked, voice softening. and he absolutely hates when you do that, because it always pulls on his heartstrings and brings a flush to his face, the way you treat him. he thought that if you did it enough, he'd be sent to the doctor for heart palpitations instead of a sweet tooth.

he doesn't answer you at that. how could he tell you, when he knew all that'd result from it was a thorn in his side? you, being the rose. so beautiful but awfully prickly and unfairly sour like a lemondrop with a sweet inside. then again, he'd much rather have your interrogating care than lose you, like what had happened with the reason he was trying out smoking in the first place.

then, it happened— your voice went unbearably soft, like puffy white covers and featherlight pillows with silk covers on a saturday morning, looking out the window to see pink tulips against a cloudy blue sky as the sun streamed in. it almost made him want to clutch your hand over his chest and see if you could feel the way he was reacting. no doubt, it was filled with such patient tenderness; all-encompassing sweetness it made him want to cry. so he coughed to cover it up, averting his gaze and bringing one hand to his face to absentmindedly smooth down the strands of damp white hair hanging over his eyes.

"thinkin' about suguru again, are you?" you asked gently, tucking the cigarette back into your pocket—yours, not his—and reaching out to take his hand.

his lips parted ever so slightly, gaping like a goldfish. he knew he looked silly, and he should've been okay with that— because being vulnerable with you, out of everyone he ever knew (with maybe the exception of one) was easier than breathing; came more naturally to him than his gravitation to a challenge. the same could be said for sweets.

(maybe he'd have to re-evaluate his proclaimed taste, then. since you were more sour than sweet.)

but this time, he wasn't okay with it. it had been hard to talk about what had happened with suguru one year ago since— it formed a nasty lump in his throat, bitter like black coffee and the wrong mix of herbs. it made him feel weak. reminding him of his shortcomings, which, in his mind, shouldn't even exist in the first place. but you never had a problem ripping his problems from the shielded cavity in his gut, bringing them under the operator's light to dissect and solve like a surgeon. forget about forcing him to the doctor's— at this point, you should be the one in the white coat, not shoko. he thinks about what you'd look like with blue gloves on your delicate fingers for a moment too long.

"what's it to you?" he snaps back after what feels like three years of his life. his fingers tighten around yours for a moment before he pulls his hand away abruptly.

the frown that lingered on your face from then on had been burned into his memory.

and, well, that was his mistake. it spiraled from there— because he knew what it was to you, and he hated that. hated that you could see straight through him like a cloud blue stained glass window; without rose colored lenses like the ones he always wore (the ones he rocked, he thinks).

a crack of thunder overhead jolts him from his thoughts; he couldn't even get in there to dust the spiderwebs away before being jerked back into reality. he clicks his tongue in disappointment, watching as the skies pry themselves open and rain begin to fall in the way it only did over heavy summer showers. he wishes the sky would stop its weeping, but even the strongest has his limitations.

but it doesn't matter. he has one of those cheap plastic umbrellas he'd bought from a convenience store one day in a late march many moons ago, during the brightest blue spring of his life. and so, he didn't understand why he was lingering at the door, swinging the umbrella around his fingers by the hook on the handle, watching as the rain fell with increased fervor. there was no plastic button to keep the folds tied up, so it floundered around with each swing like a tulip bent by monsoon winds. maybe on the coast of some faraway land with windmills and fields of flowers. he wonders if he'll ever get to see the world with you someday— a fleeting thought that crumbles instantly when he conjures your pretty face in his vision, clear yet distorted like a reflection on a glazed pond, rippling water from the dragonflies that skipped over the surface.

you were definitely still angry with him, because you hadn't showed— normally, you'd walk home together. sometimes with shoko, if she didn't leave early. angry words echo in his mind, the image of your downturned lips swimming in his bright vision as he watches the rain streak down the window panes by the lockers. there's a fog settling over the grass outside that's sure to leave dew after the storm. he wonders when that'll be.

"why can't you ever take me seriously? can't you see i'm worried about you?"

"of course i can. but i don't need your damn concern!”

...

he'd been sorely mistaken, that was for sure. loosing his cool and snapping at you wasn't exactly something he took pleasure in, either way. he leans back on his heels, tapping his foot impatiently as he holds the umbrella like a cane against the floor. infinity could probably do away with the rain. another reason as to why he's not even sure why he's waiting here, or why he's holding an umbrella. perhaps to keep in case he has to offer it to some poor, shivering and cowering young maiden lost beneath the shading of a bus stop behind a curtain of rain droplets, with a charming grin and a wink.

maybe.

a shuffle behind him catches his ear; he turns his head, an unamused expression on his face as his eyes drift over the empty room to land on you. the shadows beneath your eyes are prominent, and your hair is unkempt. there are sleep lines on your face; you probably fell asleep in a classroom somewhere, which is why you delayed.

it was evident you weren't expecting to see him, though— with the way your eyes widened a little before they dropped again, nose bridge wrinkling slightly as if you'd caught the scent of something unpleasant. your eyes left his, and he felt a little disappointed as he watched them wander toward the window, where the current downpour was prominent. he didn't like the way it made his chest pang when your attention was anywhere but him, so he raised his hand lazily, tilting his head to catch your attention that he so clearly craved.

"yo. got an umbrella?" he calls, tapping the tip of his budget cane on the floor. the thud is the only sound for a while as your gaze wanders back over to him; reluctant.

"no, i don't. i didn't expect it to rain so hard today." you responded quietly, stepping over to him with a small sigh. almost a little resigned, he thinks. he can't be sure, though. he never is with you. doesn't know whether to expect his candy to be sour in the center or the other way around; but maybe he likes a bit of uncertainty every once in a while. (not with you, though. if it means arguing? never with you.)

his sunglasses are hooked around the collar of your shirt. he doesn't know why it takes him so long to realize, but when he does, he has to clear his throat in an effort to hide the heat on his face and do away with the blush. "here. take mine. i don't need it," he says curtly, offering his umbrella to you. he wants to snatch the shades from your shirt, but he doesn't want anything to go wrong, so he just eyes them warily, careful not to let his gaze slip past into anything you'd be pissed at him for.

you eye him, eyes narrowed as you raise an eyebrow, but you don't protest. your fingers brush against his for a brief moment when you take it, shaking it a little before opening the door and stepping outside, opening it up. it looks like a little clear plastic mushroom cap over your head; you're short enough to constitute as the stalk in his eyes. it's a little funny, but he has to stifle the laugh bubbling on his tongue lest you think he's making a mock of you.

he follows after you, slipping past to stand at your side with his hands in his pockets. you can't help but feel a little curious despite your prolonged anger (you like holding grudges, he knows), so you sneak a glance upward to satiate your wonder. you don't expect him to look as breathtaking as he does.

the clouds are light overhead; they're not a heavy blanket of gray anymore, and a small strip of light manages to push through, shining on satoru's pale white hair. you can make out the edge of his undercut against his neck when the wind picks up a little, the color of fluffy white clouds on a lavender sunset with the sway of yellow flowers beneath an expanse of a bright sky. there's a little cat hair on the collar of his jacket; you realize with a faint flush that it must've been from when you were holding his jacket for him in the gym. somehow, the cat you have at home found its way to satoru. you hope your pet has become a matchmaking fortune teller, for the sake of your happiness.

what catches your eye the most, though, isn't the cat hair on his dark jacket or the faraway look in his misty blue eyes; it's the outline of rain water around him, a product of his infinity, you realize. he's dry underneath the downpour, and it never ceases to amaze you. it's like there's a soft glowing halo against the backdrop of tangled wires, gray walls and pale green bushes— he looks like an angel boy, school bag hooked and hanging over one shoulder.

eventually, you manage to peel your gaze away, and he notices— looks down at you, pressing his lips together and running his tongue over them. he can taste strawberry gloss.

wordlessly, you start walking. and he follows suit, rain bouncing off of him; you catch yourself sneaking glances from under the roof of your clear umbrella between raindrops that slide down the clear plastic. sometime during the walk home, he had gone off and gotten himself a drink from a nearby vending machine— the red can catches your eye, and your fingers curl around the rubber handle of the lent umbrella as you watch him drink; the bob of his adam's apple before he crushes the can up and tosses it into a nearby bush, causing a brief scattering of leaves and a downpour of collecting droplets onto the pavement.

despite the rain, the weeds between the cracks in the sidewalk still stay strong; they have deep roots. much like the way you never fail to scowl at him for littering. he catches it— of course he does. he's been praying for a sign you're not still so hopelessly angry with him that you can't even bring yourself to have a civil walk in the summer rain together. after the scowl, though, comes the smile— the one that always makes him melt in his shoes, much like the sunshine after the rain.

and there it is at last, he thinks. the hard sour coating melts away on his tongue, draining the taste of lemon to reveal a sweet, genuine center. all it takes is time. your lips curve up, and you duck your head, hiding the small bemused laugh that leaves you breathless.

"what are you laughin' at?" he huffs, glaring down at you. but there's no malice behind it— if only you could feel the wave of relief that's washed over him, a crest of white foam that leaves behind still waters reflected in the pools of sapphire in his eyes. nothing like the hit of numbing nicotine he'd shared in the shade of an alleyway with shoko earlier that day— away from the sun; away from you. hidden from both. or maybe they were the same— to him, he couldn't differentiate.

"i'm not laughing!" you protested weakly, immediately wiping the grin from your lips, and he regrets speaking up. "just.. i dunno."

you walk in silence for a little longer, content to listen to the rain lighten up overhead. satoru kicks a plastic onigiri wrapper out of the way, splashing up a puddle as a frown dampens his face when the wrapping only clings to his shoes. he's fine with getting a little grumpy if it means seeing you smile again. and even better, you laugh again— so sweet, like the chiming of bells in the wind's melody.

"please don't do that again." your voice sounds so very small when he hears it again, and he looks down at you from beneath long white lashes, the corner of his lips quirked up. the shape of them is almost cat-like, you think. he doesn't even know what you're talking about— a vague idea, at best— but he won't do it. not if it means hearing you sound so pathetically... sad. he doesn't like it. it's far too bitter for his taste. let the black betta you both used to know indulge in dark coffee and bitter cologne— satoru likes things sweet, like the cream surrounded by tea leaf matcha in the center of his mochi and fluttering feeling he gets when you run your hands through his hair, fluffing it up to your heart's content.

(as long as your heart is happy, his is, too.)

"i won't. happy now?" he sticks his tongue out, making a face. but you both know he means it— he hates breaking his promises to you. you smile when you look up at him again with a small nod, and he feels his knees wobble a little. he just hopes you don't notice. "sorry for lying. i just.. don't like it when you're mad at me. and you look at me like that," he mumbles under his breath, bunching up the fabric of his pants between his fingers. then, after a moment, "geez, you're so dramatic. quit carin' so much." he really hopes you don't stop, and it makes him feel like the world's biggest hypocrite. the strongest, but so weak for you.

"sorry, can't. the day you stop crushing your soda cans and littering is the day i'll stop caring, 'cus that won't be my satoru anymore." you tease. and he laughs, throwing his head back so you don't see the red that spreads across his cheeks, dusting his skin like powdered sugar on top of a strawberry crepe. he always wants to be your satoru, so he figures he'll keep littering. a few money fines here and there mean nothing to his undentable wallet, or the erratic beating of his heart, trapped against his ribcage in a feathery blooming of flowers he only gets from you and your pretty smile underneath the layer of lemony sourness.

you walk along the road for a little while longer. the rain has lightened, but it's still going— incessant, dripping from the leaves of trees and the knotted black wires overhead. he still has his infinity up, which means he can't pet the cat the two of you spot on your way back, but he's perfectly content to watch you do it. you scratch its chin, smiling at the way it purrs and nuzzles into your hand, and he wonders if he'd do the same if he was in its position.

he's lost in thought when you speak to him again, shoes splashing against murky puddles in the backdrop of a never-sleeping city; tokyo's bright skyline always makes your eyes go round with wonder. you say something, and he chuckles, warm and velvety. and then you realize what's been off with him this whole time— he doesn't have his shades on.

you slip them off the collar of your shirt, smoothing down the fabric before you reach over and attempt to nudge his arm. you don't think it'll work, because he still has his infinity up— and your sleeves are already getting spattered by rain that leaves darkened wet spots on the cotton. but to your amazement, your fingers make contact with his sleeve, and you watch in wonder as the rain actually falls— soaks into that little patch of wet fabric that you're able to feel on his arm. that he's turned his infinity off in that one spot so you could touch him. you spare a glance up at him, only to find his head angled away from you. you might be hallucinating, but the tips of his ears seem red.

you don't linger on it before you're tugging on his shirt with a frown, getting him to look down at you as you unfold his glasses and offer them over to him. he takes them quickly, and you don't miss the way the rain stops falling onto his arm again, back to bouncing off the invisible shield that protects him from everything (but you, it seems). he slips his dark shades back over his eyes, obscuring oceans of pure blue that seem like they've trickled in from the purest snowcaps on the distant mountains dotted with old red tori gates and shrines with scrapped paint. but you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your lips this time— giddy and fresh and filled with youth, blossoming like sakura petals in a spring that seems so far away yet so close with his presence by your side.

you don't say anything for a while. you're content to watch the rain wash down the pavement and into the gutters, past cute little coffee shops and parks with ponds as the droplets from the sky scatter the water in part of a never-ending cycle; watering the surface of the earth and bringing life that would soon spring up as shroomcaps and fresh dew on the clean cut green grass. you wonder what satoru sees through his lenses— though, you already know. you've worn them plenty of times before, when he insists on having your perfume cling to the frame for long missions he's sent on alone, when he can't have you hold his jacket, or his hand, or scold him for sneaking a smoke when you're not watching. that, and the extra lemondrops he keeps in his pocket; gifts from you that he's fought hard for.

you're more prepared to not feel any interference of his infinity this time when you reach over, and this time you don't go for his sleeve—yanking him close to you by his hand and forcing him beneath your umbrella. you feel the way he freezes up for a moment, but his fingers fill in the gaps between your own like its the most natural thing in the world, palms pressed together in a little breathless hug that leaves no room for the humid air.

"don't waste your infinity on the rain, dumbass. you'll fry what little is left of your brain." you scold him, and he just grumbles and scoffs angrily under his breath, cursing you as he hunches over and ducks his head to fit under the umbrella to negate his height. his hair brushes against the plastic roof of the umbrella, and his lanky limbs are still awkwardly sticking out, but his fingers tighten around yours and his thumb rubs over your knuckles, still a little damp from your earlier encounter with the rain, and you can't help but smile a smile bright enough to wash away every last bit of cloud in the sky. his personal sunshine.

even though he still prefers sweet things, satoru's come to like the taste of lemondrops. sweet and sour go well together, after all. just like you and him.

its okay if it doesnt taste like anything to u as long as u enjoyed it :) thanks for reading !! the black betta in question is suguru btw my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

Tags

jjk gojo satoru jujutsu kaisen kawaii jujutsu kaisen gojo the descriptions?? the metaphors?? guys im in love

forever isn't a long time

summery: satoru can't imagine a time when you're not at his side

contains: fem reader, fluff, crack, microscopic amount of angst (but it's there), comfort

you have been writing for quite a while now on that stupid piece of paper you grabbed from somewhere. satoru didn't see what you were writing, and he didn't ask when you sat down on the couch beside him and started doing whatever you're doing.

he wanted to concentrate on his movie. he really did. though even he himself noticed how his attention drifted slowly away as his eyes looked at you every few seconds. "well, the shopping list is getting kinda long." he finally said with a smile, trying to figure out what you were doing.

your eyes remained on the paper. "i'm writing my will." you corrected him dryly, whereupon he needed a good minute to process what you had just said so casually.

"hah? and why would you do something like that?" he asked, and his anger only grew when he saw that you just shrugged your shoulders and continued writing. "stop it! stop writing immediately!" he shouted, fighting you for the paper because he wanted to take it away from you. "give it to me!"

you complained at his childish behavior. "you stop it, satoru! what are you doing?!" you exclaimed, trying to defend yourself from his suprise attack as best as you could by turning your hand with the paper as far back as you could, only to have him climb on top of you to reach it. "satoru! i mean it!" you yelled out as he succeeded at snatching the paper from you and then went back to his seat.

"why are you writing a will like some crazy woman, seriously..." he muttered to himself and just ignored you as he tore the paper in his hands without a second thought. without even looking at it.

you just looked wide-eyed and couldn't believe that he did that. you had invested a lot of thought into that paper. "you're the crazy one! what kind of sane person reacts like that? it's not my fault that most people in this job die before they reach thirty!" you stated, annoyed and were really pissed off at his behavior. "i'm just thinking ahead, unlike you."

he just shook his head. "well, most people don't have the strongest jujutsu sorcerer as their boyfriend, aka me. so stop worrying about it. you won't die under thirty." he promised you and could guess what your next argument would be, which is why he added quickly, "actually, screw that. you will never die, not under my watch. we will be together forever and ever, which means that you will never need a stupid will."

you looked a little worried at that statement. like, you were aware of the fact that he had abandonment issues, but this was something else. "satoru, i think that..."

he firmly grabbed your hand. "if you leave me, i will kill myself." he whined.

you just sighed and patted his head with your hand before you started going through his hair. he leaned further into your comforting touch. "okay, then i will never die." you said while you looked into his eyes and saw a smile appear on his face. you still couldn't help but tease him a little, though. "what a waste. i was thinking of getting a pink coffin and was just making my funeral playlist. thought about putting some maroon 5 and nicki minaj in there for the vibe."

satoru hit you lightly. "shut up. that sounds like we're celebrating your death or something. you can listen to maroon 5 and nicki when you're alive and well. i can't believe you said that."

you chuckled a bit. "come on, i'm just kidding. you love to fool around, don't you? why can't i do it every once in a while." you joked but stopped when you saw him get up from the couch. you followed him quickly. "satoru! i'm sorry! don't be mad."

he wasn't. how could he be mad at you when life was this short even after you promised him to live forever.

Tags

jjk gojo satoru jujutsu kaisen jjk gojo jjk satoru

314 notes View Post

honestlysublimecherryblossom

1 year ago

— GOODBYE, MY LOVE

⤷ featuring : geto suguru (mentions of gojo satoru, ieiri shoko and nanami kento)

⤷ warnings : major jujutsu kaisen manga spoilers and a bit of angst

⤷ form : imagine

⤷ published : 19 march

⤷ pronouns : not mentioned

⤷ word count : 0.7k

⤷ request : Hehyehye, can i request an imagine with a female reader; where she’s Geto’s girlfriend/classmate and they’re spending their last moments together before he ends up leaving (after Geto is charged with his crimes)

⤷ barista’s notes : let me admit, i've been hating the layouts of my writing but i have no idea how to like 'solve it' anyways, watch me scroll on pinterest for hours to see how i can fix this feeling ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ also i don't think i'm really good with angst writing but that's just my opinion....

It seemed to be a bit too quiet.

Too quiet for Suguru's liking, but what can he do when it was 2 am in the morning.

Softly twirling the ends of your hair, Suguru couldn’t help but begin to admire the shine of the strands before his eyes slowly shift from the strand of your hair to your eyelashes before moving to the apple of your cheeks that were still flushed with a rose hue, ending his journey to your lips that were a little chapped, making him remember how you would alway apply a layer of your favourite chapstick since you hated the feeling of your lips being dry, yet he didn’t mind at all. For some strange reason, Suguru didn’t mind your chapped lips since he knew he was the one to moisturise them the second his lips met yours, but secretly he also did enjoy the taste of the artificial sweetness that came along with the product.

However, right now, Suguru’s body felt the heaviest it has ever been causing him to force himself to balance on his arm since he didn’t want to crush you with his body, worried that he could hurt you like he did with his parents just a few hours ago. Even though he knew that you wouldn’t mind his body on top of yours like you have experienced throughout the time of your intimate relationship, Suguru couldn’t help but believe that this weight he was experiencing will crush you the second he let loose.

“You know you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met right?” Suguru whispered as he let your hair slip from his grasp. “You are so beautiful that I want to take you with me,” he continued before wrapping his arms around your bare body, making you unconsciously sign at the warmth that was comforting you right now as you snuggled against his naked chest, feeling the way your legs tangled with each other, as if you were savouring this moment.

“But I can’t do that, because who is going to take care of Satoru and Shoko if I’m gone,” Suguru mentioned as he began to recall all the times where you put your classmates in place even though you were the youngest out of all of them. “How are you going to take care of Nanami if I take you with me?” Suguru questioned again, yet this time it seemed as if he was asking himself this.

Gently placing a light kiss on your temple before resting his forehead, Suguru felt a single tear drop from his eye to your cheek.

Suguru wasn’t scared about the path he had chosen to walk on, nor he was scared about the consequences of his actions. Suguru was scared of leaving you alone.

He wasn’t stupid. Suguru knows you can defend yourself and how to fight - you were a sorcerer after all like him - but there was still a part of him where he was afraid that you were going to fall into the hands of those ‘monkeys’ that he once vowed to protect. He didn’t want to leave you all alone in this cruel world to survive for yourself. He wanted to convince you to follow him, so he could protect you and continue this love that connected you both heart to heart and soul to soul.

Suguru wanted to make his vision of this relationship come true, he wanted to live with you, marry you, have children with you.

Even the simple things he wanted.

He wanted to stay by your side. He wanted to hold you whenever he wanted. He wanted to kiss you, love you, even breathe the same air as you.

Suguru wanted nothing more but to have you.

He wanted nothing but to have a normal life with you like you had mentioned to him when you both snuck out of your dorms one night to have a weird timing picnic - he still recalls the scolding you both received from your teacher Yaga when he found you both sleeping outside since you were both late for class.

But he knew that he couldn’t and this was the one time he couldn’t let his selfishness control his actions.

Stroking the apple of your cheek, Suguru couldn’t help but smile with glassy eyes once he got a full view of you resting in his arms while your arms tight around him, keeping him from moving away even when he needed to leave you so soon.

“I’m so sorry, please forgive me,” Suguru pleaded before tightening his hold, nervous of the days where he was never going to be by your side again.

© violettelueur 2022 - all rights are reserved to violettelueur. Do not repost, copy, change/modify, plagiarise, translate or screenshot my work : this will also include other social media/writing platforms like AO3, Wattpad, TikTok and many more.

Tags

jjk jujutsu kaisen geto suguru jjk x reader jujutsu kaisen x reader geto suguru x reader jjk imagine suguru geto x reader jujutsu kaisen imagine suguru geto jjk imagines jujutsu kaisen imagines geto suguru imagines geto suguru imagine suguru geto imagines suguru geto imagine

561 notes View Post

honestlysublimecherryblossom

1 month ago

jack is everything i want 😩

SOLID WORK; dr jack abbot x dr!reader

words: 4,700+

content warnings: my minimal medical knowledge, doctor humor, abbot’s filthy mouth, some smut, fluff <3

notes: i am so beyond new to this fandom and to tumblr so please stick with me but i couldn’t not write this🫶

・❥・

”Solid work.”

My breathing slows as I start to process the complexity of the procedure I had just performed. I’d probably be blushing at Dr Abbot’s praise if it weren’t for the adrenaline coursing through me.

“That was your save. Not mine.”

Trust me - I am never jumping to credit a man with my work but that was the truth. I may have physically done everything but the idea and the instructions that made it possible were all Dr Abbot.

I look back down at the patient. I tell myself it’s to make sure this is all real. That I really just did that. But if I am being honest it’s to avoid Dr Abbot’s unwavering eye contact.

“Hey-“

He is not gonna let me. I look up to meet his gaze. So rock solid but somehow so warm all at once. He may as well be staring right through me.

He lightly rests his hand on my forearm to stop me from going for the suture. To stop me from giving him anything other than my undivided attention.

“-you are the smartest person in here. Take the win.”

I can’t help the exasperated smile that spreads across my face. He’s right. I’ve only got a couple months left of residency. I should just take the fucking win for once in my life.

Abbot, much to my surprise, smiles back. And he has dimples because of course he does.

He’s calm under pressure, he lies on official paperwork to get a teenage girl the abortion she has every right to, he’s the actual smartest one here, he’s kind to everyone in this ED regardless of the stress he is under, and…he still has his hand on my arm.

His hand. The veins there don’t hurt the eyes either.

We must both realize his lingering touch at the same time because he is clearing his throat and pulling away. He reaches for a surgical instrument he doesn’t need. Picks it up and then puts it down.

I swear there is a faint blush on his cheeks but if I think about that too long one will appear on my own.

“Let Whitaker stitch this up. Go home - get some rest. Your shift ended hours ago.”

“I love Whitaker but he is so slow we may as well let the wound heal all on its own.”

Dr Abbot laughs. Genuinely, truly laughs as we exit out of the trauma bay. So loud that Robby looks over and asks if he’s okay.

Don’t get me wrong. Dr Abbot has a wonderful sense of humor. A wicked one, actually. But it’s one of those dry, witty kinds. Not the animated, giggly kind.

I tell myself it’s not a bad thing that I’m proud to have gotten a good laugh out of him. That it’s not a bad thing that it gave me butterflies. That’s it’s not a bad thing that I am laying in bed wondering how the hell I am going to get him to do that again.

・❥・

Jack lets out a low moan as he recovers. His eyes are dazed, his head slightly tilted back but not so much so that he can’t keep eye contact with me.

His hand that held the makeshift ponytail in my hair starts to massage my scalp as the other hand reaches for my chin and tilts my head up to meet his strong gaze.

Once he’s got me where he wants me, his thumb travels from my chin to my lips, swiping what’s left of his release off of it.

“My good girl. So good for me, yeah?”

My thighs involuntarily clench together at his words. He knows it too. I nod as his thumb presses further into my mouth, my lips wrapping around it.

His mouth quips into a smirk, “Solid work, doctor.”

I roll my eyes and bat his hand away. Standing up from my knees on my own. Ignoring his arms trying to gently guide me up instead.

“That! That is exactly what I am talking about!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, baby.”

Jack just laughs as he grabs my wrist, turning me back towards him. He’s quick to have me pinned up against our shower wall - his strong thigh spreading my own apart as he plants long slow kisses across my neck.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Back when I was a resident, otherwise known as a couple months ago, Jack consistently praised what I was doing by saying “Solid work.”

The way he did always made me dizzy. His voice would drop an octave and he’d look me straight in my eyes while he said it. There is nothing inherently sensual about the phrase but it took me a while to realize he was not complimenting the other residents like that.

Him saying it during sex started as a joke. Harkening back to when, as he puts it, I was so painfully oblivious to his flirting. To which I responded, “That was flirting?”.

He said it again to me at work the next day. Being completely and utterly genuine. I don’t even remember what I did but I did it well and he is always the first to acknowledge that. So he was confused when I just huffed in annoyance and peeled out of the room without so much of a glance at him.

I wasn’t annoyed at him. I was annoyed that now all I could think about was him. His hands, his biceps, his tongue. Everything. And I still had six hours of my shift to go.

He followed me into the on-call room I was going to find some refuge in. He locked the door behind him - closed the curtain for good measure.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

And then I felt bad. He thought something was actually wrong. That no way I’d ever brush him off like that when he was just trying to compliment me unless something was seriously wrong.

His eyes bored into mine, genuine concern and love pouring out of them. And here I was just being a brat.

I tried to be sly about the way my eyes trailed the veins bulging out of his biceps. I tried to be sly about the way I was imagining my hands tugging on his salt and pepper curls that were just slightly askew from a couple hours work. Unfortunately for me, Jack can read me like a book.

“Did you just stomp out of the ED because you’re needy?” Jack couldn’t contain the grin that spread across his face at the realization.

“Well maybe if you weren’t always going Mr Christian Gray on me with the praise-“

“I don’t even know who that is but all I said was ‘Solid work’-“

Jack stops himself as he remembers the past couple nights. When he was saying the same thing in a much different context.

I can’t say I’m entirely innocent. Or innocent at all really. I love throwing in a ‘sir’ every now and again at work to tease Jack. So he does the same to me with other phrases - constantly.

And he said the same thing in that on-call room that he is saying to me right now, “But what I do know is how fucking wet you are for me. So stop pouting and let me taste you, yeah?”

He swipes a finger through my soaked folds before he’s the one sinking down to his knees as I try to keep mine from buckling.

・❥・

“Solid work, Dr Abbot.”

I smile down at my sparkling new engagement ring and then up at the love of my life.

“Seriously? You can tease but I can’t?”

“What’s that saying again? Happy wife, happy life?”

Neither of us can wipe the huge grins off of our faces. No one knows we’re engaged yet. Just how we wanted it.

A couple of months ago, right after I had taken an attending job at The Pitt, Jack had broached the topic of marriage. We’d talked about it before. We both knew we were spending the rest of our lives together. But we hadn’t actually talked about the timeline of it all - the logistics.

Jack was always extremely hyper aware about how our relationship affected me. He didn’t want it to interfere with my career or all of my hard work. So as much as he would’ve walked down the aisle six months ago, he wanted everything to be on my terms.

“Hypothetically - if I were to propose, say within the next month - would you say yes?”

“Hypothetically - if I ever say no to a marriage proposal from you - please get me a psychiatry consult.”

Jack laughed - in an airy way where you could tell he was relieved. I kissed him. There was no universe in which I ever said no to a proposal from him.

He pestered me with questions. He wanted direction but not so much so that I wouldn’t be surprised when the time came.

I told him I didn’t want anything fancy. No big party although I did want to have a small gathering with our friends and family at some point afterwards. A nice sized diamond but not gaudy. No grand gestures - just him being him is all that I wanted.

And he executed perfectly. Because when does he not. It was our first night in the new home we had bought. He said we could get a hotel while we waited for our furniture to be delivered. But I wanted to do one night with no furniture, an air mattress, some candles, and a pizza delivery.

“Like camping.” I had said.

“You hate camping.”

I laughed because he was right but he obliged me anyways. He carried me over the threshold and I made a joke about how he’s got to be careful - being old and all.

Then he carried me right over to the air mattress, said something like “Can an old man do this?” and went on to coax four orgasms from me - one from his fingers, one from his tongue, one from his thigh, and finally one from where I wanted him most.

When we were done, I threw on one of his old tshirts and a pair of boxers. He just had on an old pair of sweats and a white tee. We stared into each others eyes like two lovesick teenagers until he said “Come here - I gotta show you something.”

“Babe, the house is empty.”

“Get over here smart ass.”

Jack picked up a candle and lead us over to the fireplace. He set the candle on the mantle as I read what was now engraved into the stone ‘The Abbots - Est 2025’

“So this is why you were getting all of those random tools from Amazon.”

Ever the handy man he is. Then he was on his knee. His bad one. To which I told him he didn’t have to do that. And then he said he would even if it killed him. And I think I said something stupid like “Not on my watch.”

I don’t even remember what he said after that. He doesn’t either. We both blacked out from sheer happiness. All I really remember is him asking me to do him the honor of being his wife and me pulling him up off of his knee and saying ‘Duh!’ as fast I could before kissing him. Over and over and over again until that air mattress was just a deflated extension of the wood floor beneath it.

・❥・

Dana’s hand rests on my thigh gently. My leg stops shaking. My mind doesn’t stop racing though.

I'm not an anxious person. If anything, I can be relaxed to a fault. But I am an intuitive person - and something is wrong.

Where is he?

“Relax. When is that man ever late?”

“That’s why I’m worried.”

You would think I didn't have my own license or car the way Jack insists on driving me everywhere. He tells me it is to keep our insurance from being sky high. I may or may not be a bit accident prone when behind the wheel. I tell him it's because he's obsessed with me. He always huffs a laugh and murmurs something about two things being true at once.

The Pitt makes sense. Ever since Jack started taking on more day shifts to balance out our conflicting schedules, a lot of times we are arriving and leaving here together. But on the off chance we are not, he is still picking me up. Always with some kind of treat in hand - usually a McDonalds Diet Coke much to Jack's dismay.

Jack takes the saying 'If you're not early - you're late' far more seriously than anyone I have ever met. The day shift typically gets off at 7 PM which means he is usually here to gossip with Robby on the roof by 6:35 PM.

“Go - take a case! He’ll be here to pick you up before you know it.”

My dissents are quickly met with Dana shooing me from the nurses station and personally squaring my shoulders to the board.

I haven’t even read the first name when Robby appears at my shoulder.

“Where is your fiancé?”

“Say that any louder and you’re going to be my next patient.”

“Yeah because you two are so inconspicuous with the whispering and the giggling and the big honking rock on your finger and the-“

“-disappearing to 'clean' the on-call room.” Dana finishes Robby’s sentence as they both double over in laughter.

Dana, Robby, and Collins are the only people in the ED that know about Jack and I’s relationship.

Collins knew I had feelings for Jack before I even let myself go there. Robby knew Jack had feelings for me before he let himself go there. So they took matters into their own hands.

Collins had a $100 on Jack breaking first. Robby $100 on me. And he had an extra $100 to spare when he bribed Dr Ellis to ask me to take her night shift for a week. Oh, how that backfired on him.

Three shifts later and Robby was $200 in the hole.

Six months later, I was moved out of my city apartment and into Jack's house.

Dana offered to drive me home after shift one night. Because it was cold and rainy and my apartment was close by. My apartment that I no longer lived in.

Jack wasn’t picking me up - he was out of town at a conference. I insisted on taking an uber, the bus, walking - anything that meant not explaining to Dana why my new address was the same as Dr Abbot's. She wouldn't take no for an answer and yelled "Oh, I knew it! Bridget owes me $100!" when I finally fessed up.

One year later, almost to the day that Robby had to pony up on his bet with Collins, I had an engagement ring on my finger.

Tonight, after he picks me up, Jack and I are going to pilates together.

It was only a matter of time before Robby and Collins gave it another go and I bet Jack that Robby would fold before Collins.

What's the point in betting money when we share a bank account? Seeing Jack in the pink pilates grippy socks he does not know I got him will be priceless.

“Well, when you find him please tell him that he is late for our date on the roof."

"Stop dragging him up there - you already have a date tonight!"

"Yeah, one in which I need his advice on."

"Oh please, you're talking to the wrong Abbot if you need advice on how to woo Collins." Dana interjects. Not everyone in the ED knows about Jack and I but they do know Heather and I are best friends.

"Oh, I wasn't aware you two had tied the knot already. Do you want me to change your name on the board? I can do that right now actually. Does HR know? It'll just take a moment-" Robby teases.

I grab the remote out of Robby's hands as he laughs, "Okay fine - go have your little roof date but do not take long!"

"Well, we'd already be done if he wasn't late. Where is he by the way? He is never late for anything.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me.”

I step forward, my elbows on the counter of the nurses station and my head now in my hands as I groan.

“Relax. It’s Jack - we couldn’t keep him away from this place even if we wanted to. Especially with you in here.” Robby squeezes my shoulder and is off to what I assume to be the roof.

I check my watch before I stand back up to scan the board for real this time - 6:50 PM.

Where is he?

I pull my phone from my pocket. There’s no new message from Jack lighting up my home screen but I open up our conversation anyways.

From Jack: I miss you

From Jack: I can’t believe Langdon is getting to hang out with you right now and not me

From Jack: If you stay at that damn hospital any longer we’re gonna have to start forwarding all these packages you order there

Little does he know one of those many packages holds his new pilates socks.

To Jack: Oh please - as if more than half aren’t all your little go bag gadgets

To Jack: And to think our colleagues think I’m the drama queen

“Incoming - Trauma 1!”

I’m happy for the distraction. I’m gowned, gloved, and ready to go before the patient is even rolled in.

The doors to Trauma 1 fly open - but not with a patient. Just Dana.

“I’m going to get Robby! You should not have to do this.” Dana is staring pointedly at me before she’s off. I don’t even get a chance to respond.

Weird. I know I’ve only been an attending for a couple months but Dana had more confidence in me on my first day as an intern than she did just now.

I now understand why as the patient is rolled in front of me.

There he is.

Unconscious. Cold. Clammy. And slightly bloody from a small cut on his forehead.

My world stops.

“Heart attack.” Langdon is here.

Somehow all I can think of is Jack’s text from earlier. I want to laugh but I can’t. What if I never get one again? I’m supposed to see him in pink pilates socks tonight. Not in a body bag.

“CLEAR!”

Suddenly all the pieces from the past couple days are coming together and I cannot believe I didn’t catch it sooner. Can’t believe he didn’t catch it sooner!

“CLEAR!”

His dizziness. The increase in massages of his amputated leg. The quick heart beat. The rash.

I hear the commotion around me. But I’m not processing any of it until it’s directed at me.

“I said CLEAR! Move!”

This cant be happening. So I decide that it’s not going to.

“No!” My voice comes out way more feeble than I meant. Way more feeble than anyone in this ED has ever heard me.

“Well I hope you enjoyed being Abbot’s favorite because you’re going to kill him and your career in one go.”

“Langdon - he is not having a heart attack.”

“Yes he is!”

“No he isn’t - take off his leg!”

“Take off his leg?! Okay, you’re literally going insane. And I’m supposed to report to you?! I know I went to rehab but oh my gosh - CLEAR!”

“I’m going to clear you out of this trauma bay if you do not get out of my way.”

You know how they say a new mom could lift a car off of her new born baby? I’m pretty sure that’s the phenomenon I am experiencing right now. I don’t exactly know what other worldly force is taking over me right now but I do not question it. I am watching myself from outside of my body as I spring into action.

I shove Langdon to the side as I lift up Jack’s pant leg to remove his prosthetic. The prosthetic that noone else in this room would’ve known he had.

He doesn’t keep it a secret but he doesn’t exactly advertise it either. Especially when he refuses to sit down on a double shift. Ironically enough, that’s probably why he is on this table.

I spot what I’m looking for immediately but Langdon is the one who speaks it out loud, “Pressure ulcer - he’s in septic shock.”

“Thanks for finally using your brain Dr Langdon but we’re going to be using mine from here on out.”

“Blood ox is 91.” Someone yells. I don’t know who. What I do know is that 91 is dangerously low.

“Scalpel.” I demand.

“What are you going to do?”

“We need to drain this fluid before his organs start to fail.”

The first and only time Jack taught me this procedure it was his save. Now it has to be mine.

I tell myself that one day we will be sitting in front of our engraved fireplace. Old. Like, actually old. Not the fake old that Jack tries to pretend he is. With kids and grandkids - telling them the story of how Jack saved his own life through the transitive property. So I better get to work.

“Scalpel. Now.”

Langdon slams the scalpel into my hand. I ignore the looks around the room. The looks that say ‘The only person qualified to perform something like this in an ED is the patient’.

“Your funeral. And his.” I ignore Langdon.

I must have cut the most perfect incisions of my life. Performed the most flawless procedure anyone has ever seen from me. I don’t remember any of it.

The loud beeping slows. His blood pressure rises. Then his blood oxygen. Then the bag I drained is full and being disposed of by Dana.

When did she get here?

Robby’s hand is on my shoulder, trying to pull me away.

When did he get here?

I hear him tell Whitaker to get a suture and close up the wound. Oh, the irony. Credit where credit is due - Whitaker has gotten much quicker under Jack’s patient teaching. Thank fucking goodness.

I think of the first real laugh I got out of Jack. My eyes start to tear up but I stop myself. I will hear that laugh again. Over and over and over again. So much so that I would get sick of it if that was even possible.

Robby is apologizing profusely into my ear. He has nothing to be sorry for. But I can’t manage any words. So I just let him move me out of Whittaker’s way but I do not leave Jack’s side.

I can’t seem to register anything beyond Jack’s face that I’m seemingly trying to force into consciousness with my stare alone.

“Where the hell did you learn that?”

My head turns to Whitaker at his question but it swivels so fast back to Jack I think I give myself whiplash. Because I don’t speak - he does.

“Solid work, doctor.”

I’ve never been happier to hear those words come out of his mouth.

“Oh my god.” My hand clamps over my mouth as my head dips to Jack’s chest, my arms wrapping around his shoulders.

My adrenaline tank plummets to zero and I am absolutely sobbing into Jack’s chest. Whatever was coursing through my veins during that procedure is coming out in what feels like gallons of tears and hiccups.

I don’t care who’s in the room. I don’t care that everyone is slack jawed and staring and so beyond confused. I don’t care that out of the corner of my eye I see Perlah slapping a $100 into Princess’s palm.

All I care is that Jack’s hand has found its way into my hair and when I place my shaking hand on top of it to make sure it’s real - it is. Even better - it’s warm and dexterous and alive.

He’s alive and he’s here.

He gently guides my head out of his chest. I lift my chin up to look at him - give him the eye contact I know he is seeking. That we both are.

“Baby - I’m okay. I’m okay, I’m safe, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

His voice is as steady as ever. His heart beat matching it. The beat that was so faint what seems like moments ago.

I let it calm me down. I place a kiss to his chest and lean up to do the same to his forehead. My hand tangles in his salt and pepper curls as I hold his sweaty forehead to my lips and then bring my own forehead down to meet his. I close me eyes and breath him in.

He’s alive and he’s here.

“Welcome back, brother.” Robby manages to choke out through a couple tears of his own.

“Just wanted to make sure you guys weren’t getting lazy at the end of your shift.”

We all crack a smile but only Robby speaks, “Does this mean I have to work a double?”

“Not if you go park my car. It’s in the ambulance bay.”

I speak a full sentence for what feels like the first time in days, “You drove here?”

“We had a date. Plus, I wasn’t feeling quite right.” Jack nods down towards his amputated leg like it’s nothing but a minor inconvenience.

I dig into his pocket and toss Robby his keys. Robby calls for a CT and a room with a bed before ushering himself and everyone else out to give us some privacy.

“And how are you feeling now?”

“I’m feeling like I’d like to make the woman who just saved my life my wife.”

My hand immediately flies to the small cut on his forehead. The blood dry and crusty, “How hard did you hit your head? We’re already engaged.”

Jack chuckles, places his hand on mine and squeezes, “I barely hit my head when I fell out of the car. I’m fine - I just really don't want to live another moment without being able to call myself your husband.”

So we don’t. Not really anyways. I make Jack get every fucking scan in the book that I think we hit our insurance deductible in under an hour. He humors me by lying in the bed in one of the ER rooms as I pump a myriad of fluid and antibiotics into him.

After a few hours his blood oxygen is perfect. So is his blood pressure and his heart rate. I don’t think I’ve taken my eyes off of him once. Or my hands. Running my hands through his hair, caressing his forehead, squeezing his forearm. Just to reassure myself he is here.

He understands what I’m doing. Hears what I cannot say. He grabs my hand on its next pass through his hair and presses a kiss to every single knuckle before speaking, “Baby, I’m sorry I scared you. I scared myself honestly. But I promise, I am not going anywhere. Ever. And I am so sorry you had to go through that. You should have never had to operate on me. I don’t know how you did that. I mean if it was flipped. If I saw you come in like that-“

His voice falters, his bottom lip quivers and he pulls me into the tightest hug as we both begin to cry. I think if we could crawl into eachothers skin, we would.

We stay there like that for a while. Until Jack grabs my face, kisses every single part of it, then whispers “I love you so much but I think if you pump anymore fluid into me you’re going to water board me.”

As if on cue, Robby whips the curtain open, “To the roof we go!”

“You can’t be serious.”

Robby holds up some kind of certificate as Collins and Dana round the corner.

In the hours I spent nursing Jack back to health, I went to the bathroom one time. And only because I hadn’t gone the last four hours of my shift and I own a huge water bottle.

In that one bathroom break, Jack had managed to get Robby ordained online and enlisted Dana and Collins to ‘decorate’ the roof.

We’re still gonna have our wedding ceremony and the reception and the whole ordeal. But I agree with him - I can’t go another second not married to him. Not after today.

So we go up to the roof. Jack still in his hospital gown and me in my scrubs. Robby officiates, Dana sings because she can’t help herself, and Collins ‘witnesses’ which really means crying.

Jack is kissing me before Robby can even say, “You may kiss your bride.”

When we come up for air, Robby claps both of us on the back and says, “Solid work, you two.”

I just kiss my husband again. Because he is alive and he is here

Tags

the pitt the pitt hbo jack abbot jack abbott dr jack abbott

769 notes View Post

honestlysublimecherryblossom

1 year ago

ughhh this is so cute 🤧

Ice Skating With Zoro

A/N: This was written for a trade in my server for the lovely @levi-supreme I had the absolute best time writing this <3<3 Pairing: Zoro x Reader CW: none WC: 1.4k

The crisp, cold air embraced the ice rink, giving way to an exciting ambiance for the date to come. Overhead, stars dotted across the night sky, and a luminescent moon cast its silvery glow upon the surface of the outdoor rink. The soft glow of hanging lights lent a gentle radiance to the ice, transforming it into the shimmering spot that awaited the couple's presence.

The ice rink, nestled in a secluded corner of the city, was a hidden gem. Surrounded by snow-laden trees, their branches delicately dusted with powdery snow, the rink felt like a magical escape from the world. The emptiness of the rink allowed them the freedom to lose themselves, surrounded by the beauty of the winter night. The only sounds present were the rustling of clothing as You and Zoro put on your skates.

With skates securely laced, you gracefully glided onto the ice, and Zoro followed suit. The difference in your skating skills became immediately apparent as Zoro clung to the rink's edge, a look of uncertainty on his face. Observing his hesitant attempts, you couldn't resist skating over with a teasing smile.

"Need a little help there?" you asked, your voice playful.

"I got this, just need a minute to get used to it," Zoro replied, attempting to push off the wall. However, his bravado lasted only a second before he found refuge on the barrier once again, fingers tightly gripping the cold wall.

You chuckled, closing the distance and reaching for Zoro's larger hands. "Come on, I got you," you reassured, guiding him away from the safety of the wall. You guided him slowly, hand-in-hand as you taught him how to skate. As you moved together, Zoro's initial wobbles transformed into a more confident glide, guided by your encouragement.

With growing confidence, Zoro decided it was time to venture off on his own, to circle the rink without your guidance. You watched with a big smile as he looped around the rink, occasionally letting out cheers of encouragement as he did so. However, this seemingly simple action took an unexpected turn when he realized he had never learned the crucial art of stopping. His confident grin shifted into wide-eyed panic as he hurtled back towards you.

Zoro's arms flailed in a desperate attempt to slow down, but his efforts proved futile. The collision was inevitable, and you let out a surprised squeal as your paths met. The two of you tumbled together, laughter and shouts of surprise filling the air as you guys met the ground. In the midst of the chaos, Zoro found himself in an unexpectedly comfortable position—on top of you. His hands were planted on each side of your face, holding most of his weight up.

Your laughter softened into an awkward silence, and a subtle heat flushing your faces. Inches apart, Zoro's gaze met yours, and a hush fell between the two of you. His eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips as he realized just how close his lips are to yours. It’s as if one subtle nudge could make your lips collide. His confidence wavered as he did not know what to do from there. You were equally as flustered and you could feel her heart race as you too realized how close his lips were to yours.

The trance you were seemingly in was abruptly shattered as you two simultaneously realized the intimacy of your position. Zoro quickly pushed himself up, stumbling over his words in an attempt to break the tension. "I, uh, sorry about that. Didn't mean to—"

Your cheeks heated up even more as you tried to hide your own embarrassment with a nervous laugh. "No, no, it's okay. I mean, it happens, right?" Your attempt at nonchalance only made the atmosphere more awkward.

You both scrambled to your feet, avoiding eye contact as you two brushed off imaginary ice crystals from your clothes. You spoke up once again, attempting to ease the tension, “Hey, I saw this cafe on the way here, it looked good. Did you want to check it out?” You asked with a sheepish smile.

Zoro looked over at you and offered her a grin as he nodded in response. “Yeah, actually that sounds wonderful.”

The two of you took off your skates and made your way to the cafe nearby. The walk there was silent, the embarrassment of the near kiss still occupied your minds. You two entered the cafe and sat across from each other. You and Zoro perused the dessert menu and as he scanned the menu, his eyes widened with intrigue as he spotted something on the menu. "Peppermint mocha cheesecake? That sounds interesting," he remarked, his curiosity evident.

You, looking equally interested, grinned. “I was actually just looking at that! I love peppermint mocha!”

“Then you wouldn’t mind sharing a piece with me, would you?” Zoro asked, the lingering embarrassment now replaced with a newfound confidence.

You nodded eagerly, and you placed your orders for some drinks and a slice of peppermint mocha cheesecake. The delectable treats arrived, and you both indulged. The conversation flowed effortlessly over the cheesecake, a sense of ease enveloping you two as the night progressed.

You couldn't help but notice a smudge of cheesecake on the corner of Zoro's lips. "Hey Zoro, you got a little cheesecake right there," you said, gesturing towards the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, thanks," he replied, attempting to wipe his face. However, in his efforts, he managed to miss the spot entirely. You, finding amusement in his unsuccessful attempt, took matters into your own hands. You grabbed a napkin, leaned over the table, and gently wiped the cheesecake off his mouth. This seemed to fluster him for the second time that night, and you couldn't help but let out a soft laugh at the pink tint that graced his cheeks. He muttered a quick 'thanks' as he continued to savor the cheesecake, using the moment to gather himself.

The two of you eventually finished and paid the bill. As you and Zoro stepped out into the cold winter air, his larger hand instinctively sought yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as you strolled through the empty streets.

Zoro broke the silence with a soft chuckle, “You know, I’ve never been ice skating before.”

“Yeah, I could tell by the way you nearly killed me.” You responded playfully.

He laughed louder, his hand gripping hers tighter as he responded, “Well, when you ignore that part, I was a damn good skater. You could’ve confused me with a professional.” He looked over at her with a grin.

You returned his gaze with an affectionate one, a smile spreading across your face as you responded, “Yeah, you definitely fooled me.”

"Good," he responded. Your hands swung between them in a moment of shared contentment before he abruptly halted, turning to face you. Entranced by the way your eyes seemed to radiate with each smile, and how your lips appeared irresistibly tempting beneath the moonlight, he couldn't resist the pull.

His free hand tenderly cradled her your, his thumb delicately brushing against your cheek as he leaned in. In that moment, he breathed deeply, capturing the captivating gaze of yours. His voice, with a slight quiver, broke the quiet night air as he posed the question, "Can I kiss you?"

Your heart skipped a beat, her gaze locking onto his. The air around them seemed to shimmer with a quiet intensity. "Yes," you replied, your voice soft.

With that affirmation, Zoro closed the distance. His lips met yours in a slow, gentle kiss—a moment suspended in time. His warm lips moved tenderly against yours, the kiss carrying the subtle taste of peppermint mocha. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the quiet rustle of the night and the occasional jingle of Zoro's earrings. His hand cradled your face in a protective and intimate manner, while your hands reached up, grasping his shirt as his lips continued to move against yours.

When you finally pulled away, a soft smile played on Zoro's lips, mirroring the warmth in your eyes. He looked at you with a playful glint as he added “How about this: I’ll be the one deciding what we do on our next date.”

You arched an eyebrow, a smile peeking as you responded. "Oh, really? And what exciting plans do you have in mind?”

Zoro's smirk hinted at the mysterious possibilities as he replied, "You'll just have to wait and find out."

Tags

one piece roronoa zoro roronoa zoro x reader one piece x reader

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honestlysublimecherryblossom

1 year ago

No thoughts, just him...

Tags

jjk jujutsu kaisen geto suguru my husband suguru geto

93 notes View Post

honestlysublimecherryblossom

7 months ago

saw the movie yesterday. joe is so cute.

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄 — 𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂 (𝐀𝐐𝐏𝐃𝐎)

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: A request for Eric from A Quiet Place: Day One The reader only knows of one way to calm him whilst he's having a panic attack during the madness, and they gently let him rest against their chest and listen to their heartbeat until he calms down <3

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): SLIGHT SPOILERS, fluff, angst, panic attacks

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1,286

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Eric x fem!Reader

𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed! I didn’t know where you wanted the reader to calm him down so you get a two-for-one scenario fic lmfao <33

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

You don’t know what you would’ve done if you hadn’t run into Sam like you and Eric had. You two probably would have continued to wander the discarded vacant streets of New York, had you decided not to follow the cat.

Sam had been insistent on you both leaving her be with her cat, but at last she got used to your presence. Now as you shelter in her abandoned home, watching and hearing the rain fall from the windows, you can’t help but feel relieved those creatures can’t hear your beloved's panicked inhales and exhales.

“Eric, it’s okay! You’re alright. We’re okay!” He only shakes his head at your reassured comments. Your consolation this time wasn’t doing the trick to calm him down, if you hadn’t run out you would have given him his prescribed anxiety meds. “It’s okay. They can’t hear us up here right now. You’re okay. We’ve made it this far haven’t we?” You breathe out a laugh as you cup his face. He barely musters a nod before his eyes close again, you could imagine the tornado spinning around in his chest. Wreaking havoc on his sanity and any small chance of serenity. You could imagine it all. You could see the panic, the fear in his eyes, making his chest rise and fall rapidly as he struggled to maintain his breath. “Do you want to try it again, what your doctor recommended us to do? Your head pressed on my chest. Match your breathing to the rhythm of each beat of my heart…” You trailed off letting him take the lead.

At your suggestion, he nods slowly, his eyes closing as he reaches out for your hands again. "O-Okay..." Eric tried to take deep breaths, but they came out as panicked stutters.

You sat back against the sofa, allowing space for him to rest against your chest. You began to steady your rhythmic pace, knowing it only worked if you were just as calm and relaxed. You press a gentle kiss against his curls. As his breathing slows to a soft inhale and exhale. He tuned out everything around him. Hearing every thump, feeling every minor skip in your chest. He felt your steadiness, felt the caresses in his hair. The strong warm hold of your other arm as you held him close. He could feel you, hear every intake of air. You were present for him, and he was welcoming the stillness the moment allowed for you both to have once again. He guessed as much though just how the rest of your lives would dissolve into, a world of quiet.

It seemed heavenly at first, but otherworldly frightening, knowing he might just have to savor the small moments where he’d get to hear your voice again. Just as he was doing now.

Once you registered his slackened jaw and relaxed shoulders, you assumed as much that he had fallen asleep. You didn’t dare move. Your fingers continued to rake through his hair as he had succumbed to sleep. You couldn't help but feel relieved that he had calmed down and been able to find some rest. The rain continued to patter against the windows, its soothing sound acting as a natural lullaby to ease your nerves. As you held him close, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his peaceful face.

“What started the attacks?” Sam watches you both from the windows.

“Moving far from home. His parents were so proud of him for following through with law school, but he was devastated to leave them. I completely out of mind in love with him, made the biggest jump of my life following him to the U.S.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

You peer up at Sam with glistened eyes. “N-No. I wouldn’t be sane going through this apocalypse without him. Whatever this whole mess is!” You exclaimed quietly. You look down at him, brushing back his curls. “I’d regret it more if I hadn’t followed him here. I can’t imagine what he would’ve done all alone, if he’d survived it this far. I think he would. I wonder if he’d have met you just the same if I wasn’t here. I’d have been thankful just the same though, Sam. For letting him stick with you.” You choke back a sob, your smile widening at the corners. Sam only nods, turning her head away from your vulnerable confession. You didn’t take it to the heart. Who knew what pain she was going through herself.

As you spoke to Sam, your voice quivered with a mix of love and vulnerability. You could feel the weight of your words hanging in the air, and for a moment, it was as if the world outside faded away, leaving only the three of you to navigate this strange new reality. You couldn’t help but wonder how Eric would have fared if you hadn't been by his side, a thought that sent a shiver down your spine. With bated breaths, you turned your focus back to him, sleeping peacefully in your arms.

“Eric baby please!” You swish around in the water, eyes glistening as you look up at the creature crawling out from the hole on the roof. Sam had taken a more firmer approach. Holding her hand over his mouth. You had caught him about to squeak, before Sam shushed him. His need to express his panic in screams was hard to muffle.

You moved as quietly as you could in the water. Making your way to take over Sam’s place. Eric only shook his head at you. You had to nod, to remind him to stay calm.

“Eric, we need to slow your heart.”

“N-No, no, no.” He muttered. “I can’t…”

“You can, you can. Baby, look at me.” You whispered harshly, gripping his face like Sam had done. In a more serene and calm scenario, your softer touch would have been your go-to, but not when that thing was getting closer. “I’m scared right now, I’m scared too, but we need to get you back on track. I need you to focus and match your breathing to mine, right now!” Your eyes plead with him. “Please!”

His eyes were wide with fear, pupils dilated and breaths shallow. The panic was clearly taking over him as water dipped into his mouth, making it difficult for him to focus on anything other than the impending danger. Despite his obvious distress, he nodded slightly, trying his best to calm himself down. As you held his face, he tried to match his breathing to yours, each breath a struggle for control over the mounting fear. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to stay grounded in the presence of your touch.

"I got you. D-Deep breaths…" You barely whisper to him, your frequency morphing into mouthed words.

He took a shaky breath, shuddering as he attempted to follow your instructions. Your steady presence grounded him to the moment.

You didn't hesitate to place his head on your chest. You placed your hand on the back of his head, rubbing his wet hair back and forth in hopes of reassuring him. You tread lightly backwards, keeping your sights on the beast behind you three.

Eric pressed his ear against your chest, the sound of your steady heartbeat providing a calming rhythm to focus on. His breaths were still shaky, but with your hand on the back of his head, soothing in soft caresses, he slowly began to calm down. He closed his eyes and let himself be guided through the water, trusting your instincts to lead the way. Trusting both Sam and you to get him far away from the damned creature.

Tags

fanfic lupita nyong'o joseph quinn quiet place day one eric quiet place

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honestlysublimecherryblossom

11 months ago

cheeni aur mirchi...😍

Home to home (Monkey Man Kid X Reader)

A/n: that scene where his ptsd got triggered.

didn't know what to tittle this so it's based in the song I listened to while I'm wriitng:

He can't breathe

Fuck!

He can't fucking breathe!

In through the nose. Out through mouth, Kid.

Breathe, you big baffoon! You've done this before, a million fucking time, BREATHE!

"Fuck!" he raged next to the dumpster, his throat is closing up. He feels his lungs falling apart. Stupid cigarettes!

Fuck this can't be it, this can't be how he goes.

He looks down at what he assumes to be his hands, are they? They're too blurry, shit is it his hands shaking making them blurry? Is it his eyes?

He needs to breathe

He needs to fucking breathe

He needs to

He needs..

You

He needs you

Kid reached into his back pocket, feeling a cold metal object against his fingertips he just fished them out. Hoping that it is his phone. By pure luck he tried searching for you contact number, pressing the phone to his ear desperately after

He hears it ring

Fuck what time is it?

How long has it been?

A month? Two months? Since he told you his stupid desire to seek out his mother's murderers?

'you can't do this to me, Kid. We fought so fucking hard! Remember? The orphanage, the poverty. We were homeless at some point! You can't-you can't up and leave when we're finally stable like this,'

he remembers your frantic eyes searching into his empty ones. You're desperate to keep him in this life, this dream you two built together. The guilt of surviving yet not avenging his mother's death left a heavy feeling in his chest, so heavy he spent weeks on the bed, barely leaving, eating, taking care of himself. It was you, you took care of him.

And he decided to get on his feet and throw everything out for revenge.

Ungrateful bastard.

He hears the phone rang. Why is it still ringing? You wouldn't have the heart to leave him hanging... Right?

'I swear, Kid, I won't search for you if you step out of that door.' fuck that's right, you swore-

"hello?" your voice drowsy with sleep. He can imagine it, your hair spilled everywhere on that floral pillow, sleeping in one of his big shirt with only some shorts under. Eyes barely open.

"hello? Don't play with me right now, I'm sleepy as fuck." the irritation in your voice makes it clear that you didn't open your eyes to see the caller ID.

He called your name, fighting against the dryness of his throat.

"Kid? What time is it? Are you okay? What's going on?" he could hear you waking up by each word you said. "why are you breathing like that, are you hurt?"

He didn't even realise the wheezing he was making.

"can't.. Breathe.." he croaked out.

"Kid? Baby, hey, follow me, huh? Breathe in through your nose, hold, out through your mouth."

He's been repeating that to himself but somehow when you do it, it works, he could finally breathe at least a little. You guided him multiple times until he thinks he's stable enough.

"where are you? Queenie's hotel?" of course you knew, when he told you about his plan he told you everything. No matter how angry you are at him you remember everything he says.

Kid nods before realising you can't see him. "yeah.." he keeps trying to steady his breath. "I'm coming."

"cheeni, no-"

"shut up, I'm coming," he heard the final stern tone in your voice and didn't bother fighting back.

He stayed on the phone the whole time, staring out somewhere, his breathing even but mind is as messy as a jungle. He realised you stayed on the phone too. He only murmured a few words when you asked him where he was

He had no idea how long he was sitting on that curb.

"Kid, hey," your voice reel half of him back into the cold night. You have your hand cupping his cheek, trying to get him to look at you.

"hey, I'm here,"

He sighed when he felt the familiar pattern, a kiss to the forehead, another to the nose and two for the lips. Your fingers buried in his curls. "hey, bandhar, you hear me?" he finally looked at you.

"I saw.. My maa in her." he whispered, eyes locked with yours. You had no idea who he was referring to but you nodded. "okay, come on, baby." you simply said, trying to get him on his own feet. "you finished your shift?"

He simply nodded. Wordlessly got onto his feet, clutching onto your waist.

"I saw maa," his head hung low, curls covering his face, his tall figure that always seems to stand unapologetically is slumped.

You cupped his cheek with one had, brushing your thumb against his cheek.

"bandhar, look at me." you called sweetly, trying to get his attention. He finally lifted his head to look at you, his once slicked back hair had return to their original floof.

Though you do realise his hair is a little dry.

"how about you get on my bike hm? I'll take you home. Get you something to eat, run a cold shower, we'll lay down together and you can tell me about your day." you looked at him, his eyes never left your. Both of your hands had cupped his cheek at this point.

"i can go home?" his vouce sounded so tiny, unlike the man you know. You nodded and planted a kiss on his forehead

"of course baby, anytime," you simply said, heart breaking that he thought you'd be so cruel to deny him of his own home.

He didn't say much the whole ride, just hugged you from behind tightly, buried his face into your neck, letting the wind go through his hair.

Once you're home you guided him by his hand. He just mindlessly followed. You changed him, gave him a cup of water and now end up on the bed with him, his face laying on your stomach, basically draping over you like a blanket.

"I saw her," he whispered, hating how insane he sounded. "heard her screams again," he continues. Running your fingers through his soft hair, you felt guilty, what were you thinking? Letting a man with severe PTSD and survivor guilt roam around by himself after admitting that he has thoughts on revenge? And the fact that he was barely leaving the bed 3 weeks prior. That's an obvious red flag.

You took his hand and kissed his palm, letting him say what he needs to, letting him come back to you as he wants to.

"I'm sorry," you quietly say, caressing his hand. Kid looks up to you confused.

"I should've tried to understand you, instead I blew it out of proportion and argued with you, asking you to choose resulting in you leaving? It's so stupid" you continued.

Kid shook his head, he drew circles on your hip, his head laid back on your stomach. "you have your own issues too. I knew... About your families just up and abandoning you, fleeing the country and stuffs and in a way maybe you see me putting myself at risk as leaving you," his said, eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought.

You hummed, playing with his hair again. Twirling one of the curls that strayed.

"I guess when you meet at an orphanage you just kind of have baggage," you tried joking but he nodded, taking it seriously. "it's true," and he turned to look at you, pushing himself up.

Repeating the pattern you both have been doing since you were 16, just two orphans sneaking kisses around in the orphanage, one kiss on the forehead, one for the nose and twice on the lips.

"im glad I met you, you're the only good thing that came out of this whole thing. You're my anchor, you know that?" he asked, kissing you after. You've missed this, the pressure of his kiss on your lips.

You smiled, caressing his cheek softly. "you're my whole world," you replied, smile flattening. "you promise, you won't leave? You won't take these unnecessary risks?" you cant go through another month of not knowing what he was doing. Worry that he might have fuck with the wrong people and end up dead at the side of the street of Mumbai somewhere.

He nodded and kissed your forehead, his fingers tracing circles on your soft stomach. "I promise, cheeni, I promise,"

Tags

So fluffy he's so adorable dev patel kid monkey man monkey man 2024 bobby monkey man monkey man x reader monkey man fluff

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honestlysublimecherryblossom

4 months ago

It was nice while it lasted

My (now ex) best friend just ended our four year friendship, said she didn't see any future in it because we weren't chatting as much as we used to. She was my best friend, but i wasn't hers. I probably haven't been for a while. My birthday is this sunday and I wished she hadn't done this just two days before my birthday. I need comfort, so here is a short Logan drabble♡

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant!reader

Wordcount: 1k-ish, maybe a bit less

Warnings: english isn't my first language, none, just fluff, and a bit angst, friends to lovers, implied chubby reader

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You sniffled quietly as you looked down at your bright phone screen. I'd like to break off contact. You read it over and over again. You had hoped you would never have to see these words, not with her. You were so stupid to think that your friendship would get repaired somehow.

You lived at the x men mansion, she lived far away in another city. So meeting each other was rare. The first time you met, she slept over in the mansion. Everyone liked her and you both had a great time. You would have done everything to get that back, that time, these moments when everything seemed like it was just how it was supposed to be.

After she finally found a job after searching for months, everything changed. She didn't answer your texts anymore, only if you were lucky. You tried to reach for her, tried to talk to her. But her replies were sparse and often dry. Said it was because she didn't know how to answer your texts and that she was so tired every day from work.

You tried to be understanding, tried to reassure her that it was alright. But when you saw pics of another girl on her instagram and later some random guy that turned out to be her new boyfriend, you felt it. That ache. You weren't her best friend any more. She could easily live without you. You were the only one suffering. You needed her, but she didn't need you.

You sat on your bed, wiping your tears. Why were you so damn stupid, you should have seen it coming. You were no ones favourite, you never have been. You weren't the number one for anybody, no one would chose you in a room full of people. You knew that, and that hurt.

Suddenly, the door to your room opened. It was Logan, he had a plate loaded with your favourite food in hand. He wasn't looking at you yet. "I got you some food, bub. Why weren't you down for dinner-" he started to ask but as he lifted his head and saw your tear stained face, his brows knitted together on his handsome face and he strided over to you with purpose, putting the plate on your beside table. "What's going on, bub?" He asked in the softest voice he could muster.

Your voice was hoarse and you just couldn't get a word out. He climbed into bed with you, sitting next to you and wrapping one arm around your shoulder to pull you against his side, his head on top of yours as he let you cry and shake in his arms. He wore that grey oversized sweater with nothing underneath. The fabric was so soft under your cheek. And so warm, smelling like him. You shoved your unrequited feelings aside, trying to calm your racing heart as he hugged you.

As Logan let you sob, his gaze shifted to your phone that laid abandoned on the sheets. I'd like to break off contact. He read the name over the chat and it dawned on him. He didn't need more information to know exactly what happened. You had always talked about your best friend and he had even met her one time. She was decent back then, but you would always come to him to vent when your best friend did something that hurt you. He had always told you to drop her, that she wasn't good for you, that you had so many friends and people that actually loved you around you every day. With people he meant himself. He loved you so much but never spoke up.

There was a time where he thought you and your best friend were together. Back then you'd get that question a lot because you were just that close. He was a bit salty about it and secretly hoped you would break up. When he found out you weren't actually together, he was awfully happy about it, a kick in his step.

As bad as it sounded, he was glad that the horror was finally over. He had witnessed your mental health worsen every time you beat yourself up over your best friend. He was frustrated when you blamed everything on yourself and wouldn’t see how bad she was for you. Still, he understood your tears. There had been a time where she really was your best friend and you loved her, you could tell her anything back then. And that was the version of her that you missed, the version you still held onto.

"I know this sounds rough, but you are better off without her" he mumbled against your temple, planting an experimental kiss there. As you didn't back away, he saw it as an invitation to leave his lips pressed against the side of your head. You hiccuped, nuzzling even further into him. "Why...why does it always happen to me? Why can't I keep friends, why do I always get so attached when I am worth nothing for the other person?" you questioned, voice thick from the tears. "All I want is to be loved by someone just as much as I love them" you muttered, swallowing the lump in your throat, but it didn't seem to budge.

He loved you. He loved you like you loved him. He did, so badly. But both of you didn't know. And it was eating you up inside.

You pulled back to look into his eyes "Am I unloveable, Logan? Don't lie to make me feel better" you asked him. You always told you that you couldn't be loved. But slowly you really started to believe it. I mean, who could possibly love someone like you? You were chubby, pretty introverted and didn't dress like the average. You had been bullied all your life for your looks, your personality and your mutation. The fat funny friend is who you were, the one that got asked out as a joke and was told, that they couldn't imagine you in a relationship. It was something you never truly learned to live with. You tried to hold onto the illusion that was love, hoped that one day it would find you like in the sappy romance movies you watched. You doubted it.

Your question hit Logan like a ton of bricks. "Unloveable? Are you even hearing yourself?" He asked and you had never seen him this shocked. You couldn't understand why. You had expected him to agree with you, allthough you never wanted to hear that from him.

Ever so gently, he held your soft face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his strong thumb. "You are the most easiest person to love, trust me on that"

Unbelieving, you shook your head. "I said don't lie-" you started but he shushed you quickly, your head secure in his grip as he forced you to look at him. "Look into my eyes and tell me that I am lying. Come on. Say it" he urged you on, his gaze intense and burning that it took your breath away, silencing any words you might have had. Even though you didn't correct him, he knew you weren't believing him.

He sighed, it would take a while to get all these insecurities out of your head. And your heart. But you were worth that effort.

"Let me show you just how much I love you" he mumbled before your heart threatened to jump out of your chest as his lips landed on yours. It was everything you had ever hoped it would be and you could almost not believe that this was real, that you weren't dreaming.

Pulling away, more tears spilled over your cheeks and Logan panicked. "Oh- shit, I'm sorry, that wasn't right of me" he coughed, his neck burning red in embarrassement. He was taking advantage of you, wasn’t he?

But before he could slide off your bed, you pulled at his sleeve. "No, no, it was alright. You couldn't have reacted any better" you giggled through your tears. His breath hitched as you zipped down his hoodie to snuggle against his warm, bare chest. You could feel his heartbeat quicken underneath your ear, though Logan quickly eased against the contact.

He zipped his hoodie back up behind you, keeping you close to him as you cuddled and kissed on your bed with this newfound information of you both having pinned for each other for years. You felt warm and safe and for the first time in a while, you felt like everything would be okay.

As long as he was with you.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

This was painful to write and incredibly personal in some aspects. I know that this probably won't gain as much attention because of that, as it may not be relatable for most.

But still, if you are going through something similiar, you aren't alone. There are many people that struggle, that feel this way about themselves. And while knowing that this doesn't really sooth the ache, it will get better. One day. I hope.

Tags

marvel x men comfort thank you angst mcu marvel cinematic universe so sweet logan howlett hugh jackman wolverine x reader logan x reader logan howlett x reader logan howlett fluff such a treat 😍

227 notes View Post

honestlysublimecherryblossom

1 year ago

i really hate him for what he did to megumi but i can't help but like THIS sukuna

❥ So this is love?

ᴀ/ɴ: I hope you like it! Also this man is so 👌

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ @partlylonely

Sukuna relaxed upon feeling your delicate fingers brushing through his hair locks. Gently pushing himself towards you more in hopes that he can feel your warmth engulfing him even further as he held you tightly.

Never had he ever thought that he would have a day where he could feel so carefree and at peace, with no worries and doubts, let alone with a human, but here he was in all his vulnerability and guard down cradled in the warmth of your body.

Oh how he wanted to tell you how much he loves you everyday, how everything you did made his heart flutter, how your smile would make his day, how a touch from you is all it takes for him to be under your mercy and love, but his pride wouldn’t allow it.

He then looked up to look into your eyes, those eyes that he found already staring at him lovingly with a soft smile present on that face of yours that he oh so dearly adores.

“The best feeling in the world is... When you look at that special person and they are already smiling at you.” - Unkown

So this is love?

How he was content on the inside that you were the one he got to experience it with. You are a perfect person in his eyes, but he would never call you flawless ,for everyone has flaws, but these flaws are what make them beautiful in their own way. To him, yours made you absolutely breathtaking and mesmerizing.

He felt himself melt more in your embrace every passing second. How long has it been since he started thinking to himself about how much he loves you? And why couldn’t he voice it out loud?

He himself wanted to know the answer, but he knew that his pride and reputation would hardly work it out unless he saw you in need of comforting. In that case, to hell pride and being called pathetic for feeling love.

He cupped your face gently and kissed you sweetly. Never was he good at words so when it came to actions he put his all into it. Known as sadistic most would be surprised about how gentle his touch was right now.

He himself is surprised, how did he turn this way? You had him wrapped around your pretty little fingers while you didn’t even realize and he couldn’t do anything about it, wouldn’t do anything about it.

But he was scared. He had a weakness now. He didn’t know how far will he go for the sake of love. He was scared people will use it against him. He was scared of how much he sacrifice for it. He was scared of you being sacrificed for his on so glorious conquering.

But if love is the last thing he will feel, and your love to be exact then he wouldn’t mind to let an arrow pierce his heart, just like how yours did and made him smile like he never did before.

If only he could spend all his life in this moment of love and adoration and comfortable silence. He would trade his everything for it. His adulation for you was beyond description.

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