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maybemingomango · 8 months

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I WANT TO KISS YOU / キスしたい

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

you and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.

2.9k

Summary : you've come to visit Japan to meet these two boys you met online. Though Satoru can't speak English and you can't speak Japanese, the two of you still fall in love. Very cute. Very cheesy. Oh no... wait is there a tension between you and his best friend, too? Oh boy...

Warnings : romantic tension with Suguru / potential love triangle, cat scratch

Note : i think of this fic a lot and i found the continuation hiding out in my drafts sooo here 👍

Readme? : part 1 and original

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open

Satoru blinks awake to see your face. His heart beats harder.

結局昨日は夢ではなかったのか？ Yesterday was not a dream after all?

He's not an early bird at all, but from the first day of your visit he magically woke up early as if his soul was too excited to sleep when it knew you were right there, in the flesh. No screen. Just you.

When the first day starts, it feels like you've always been together. Was there ever a screen separating the two of you? And were you really going to disappear behind one again in just a month?

今のところ、彼女はここに留まるように感じています。彼女が訪問を終えて出発するとき、私は空港で赤ん坊のように泣くことになると思います。 For now, she feels like she's here to stay. I think I'm going to cry like a baby at the airport when she leaves after her visit.

Morning routines are carried out. The sky is cloudy at first, threatening rain, and by the time you three cluster into the kitchen to make breakfast together, it starts raining.

You and Satoru banter like two cats. Suguru's morning rasp is very strong.

"Satoru... uh... sugar?" you ask, preparing to make yourself a second one and automatically making Satoru another one, since he looks still very bleary-eyed even after spending an hour freshening up in the bathroom.

"...? Yes?" he tilts his head, then you raise the sugar cube jar. "Yes. Uh... four. Thank you."

Suguru's blushing because of the cute tension between you and his best friend. It fills the whole kitchen, which already felt full with their two bodies and a third one now. Everyone keeps bumping elbows and yet not complaining about it, in fact it's enjoyable to be squished together. Maybe because you three waited so long to be together in person, you don't mind it. There's a silent, ever-present comedy in the air about the tight proximity.

You hum happily, tossing in one, two, three... four? That's a lot of sugar. "Suguru, tell Satoru he mustn't have so much sugar all the time. It's not good for his health."

Suguru laughs. "I try to tell him that every day. But his sweet tooth is incurable."

"His dentist must hate him." you smirk at Satoru, who's been looking at you blushingly after hearing his name mentioned.

彼女の声が今では一番好きな音だと思います。 I think her voice is my favorite sound now.

もう一度私の名前を言ってください。 Please say my name again.

"Satoru? Coffee?" you interrupt his lovey-dovey thoughts and he suddenly reanimates himself, because for a moment there he zoned out and just stared at you with those pretty eyes.

"Mmm... thanks." he takes the coffee from you with a noticeable timidness that you can't quite explain. There's a lot about him that's indescribable, you're having a small internal crisis; aren't you supposed to be fluent in English? And yet you can't even begin to describe just how sweet and gentle Satoru behaves. The most you can do is use metaphors that barely justify him.

"Suguru, tell her... her voice is nice, and also sorry for cuddling you in my sleep (and that she can definitely kick me away at night if it bothers her.) Also!" (the three of you head into the living room, and Suguru habitually trips over the cat who stalks under his feet too quietly to notice) "Also tell her... if it rains today, does she still want to go out? Because if we go out in the rain, she might get sick. And I don't want her to get sick on her trip. Not that I'd mind taking care of you, Y/n, of course."

Suguru lets out a long sigh and pulls a funny face. You smile amusedly.

"...It's too early to be a translator..." he grumbles in English after Satoru overloads him.

"What? C'mon tell her everything I said!"

"Let me have my coffee first. How about the two of you write to each other?" he suggests, putting the rim of the cup to his lips and sipping languidly.

"Eh, fine." Satoru pouts, and stalks off into his bedroom to get his phone.

Then, when he's in his bedroom, his chest flutters for some reason when he sees your suitcase standing there opened and emptied into the free cupboard space. He takes his phone, smiles at the homely feeling of seeing your belongings in his room, and leaves.

"Oh..." he has a sudden idea, and remembers the magnetic drawing board that's hanging in the kitchen. He and Suguru usually use it for writing reminders to each other, like get milk or you're an idiot or sometimes it has doodles of Mint the cat with sunglasses on.

So he returns to you with this magnetic drawing board, and points at it meaningfully, then holds one finger up and bows his head as he begins writing very slowly.

Suguru's checking the weather forecast and muttering sour complaints under his breath to you. "Of course it would rain for three days just when you arrive... at least by the weekend it will be clear and sunny..."

"Mmm... it's alright. A little rain never hurt nobody." you respond.

"I like your optimism." Suguru compliments flippantly at first, but then continues; "It's really uplifting. I think Satoru said something about you being a joy once, he said it really poetically but I can't recall it now."

"Aw..." you dip your head beneath your coffee cup, hiding the bashful expression on your face, which Suguru chuckles at.

And then, for a long moment, you just stare and watch Satoru writing on the board. You're completely captured in this moment, completely captivated in his enveloping presence as he sits next to you. He has slow, meticulous wrist movements. His knees press together, like he's worried that he'll invade your personal space if he sits too comfortably close to you. Funny, considering he cuddled you all night and you had no complaints about it.

He's writing very simply and neatly, just like how he texts you. You're a bit baffled by the characters he's using, though he's trying his best to avoid using any kanji knowing that you don't know a lot of it. He's sure you can figure things out by slowly pronouncing each hiragana character, or at least he hopes.

"Here." he hands you the magnetic drawing board, and then raises from the couch to go feed the cat.

"Minto-Minto... " he calls after the cat and makes a small cute sound to lure her out.

You're trying to read each hiragana character, eyes squinting a bit.

Suguru leans in close to you. He just takes a look, but the proximity for some reason gives both of you butterflies.

"Ooh... that's cute." Suguru comments after reading what Satoru wrote. His voice reaches deep in your tummy.

"Hm... I'll spell it out and... figure it out... anyways, why did you name your cat Mint?"

"Oh... well. There's two reasons. So the first..." he sets down his coffee, like he's about to tell you a great story, "Is because Satoru watched this show called Tokyo Mew Mew growing up, and he liked the character Minto. So he calls her Minto. And then I agreed on calling her that, but I call her Mint, because I hate mint the herb."

"You — haha, wait what? You call her Mint because you hate mint?"

"Yes. I hate mint, both the herb and the cat. She hates me too, clearly." Suguru raises his hand to remind you of how the cat scratched him the night before.

"Such a cute Hello Kitty sticker..." you tease.

"Thank you. Only the manliest men wear Hello Kitty Bandaids."

"How did she scratch you anyways...?"

"Oh, she likes to hang out in the washing machine if Satoru accidentally leaves it open. And when I try take her out of her comfy spot, she scratches me."

You sympathize, "Poor thing."

"What, the cat or me?" Suguru laughs.

"The cat." you lie teasingly.

"Wow! And here I thought you were being sympathetic!" he raises his brows.

You giggle and look at him, eyes finally making contact — ooh no that's bad bad bad, better break it immediately. So the two of you look away like you've both just indulged in a taboo intimacy. His stomach flips.

"Minto has been fed. She gave me cuddles." Satoru comes back into the room, and you admire the feeling he brings with him.

"No scratches?" Suguru asks.

"No, obviously, she loves me more than you." Satoru cheeks.

"Fuck you, haha."

Satoru makes his voice lower and leans to Suguru, "(Did she figure out what I wrote yet?)"

"Y/n did you figure out what he wrote?" Suguru asks.

"I'm trying so hard. What does this part mean...?"

Suguru shakes his head and puts his hands up. "Like I said, I'm not Mr Translator in the mornings."

"But you've had your coffee! Please, just this part..." you beg, and he can't deny that sweet begging. He easily folds for it, just like when Satoru begs for anything.

"Okay, where — this? Uh... Satoru your handwriting isn't usually this neat, is it...? That part means... 'voice'."

"Oh... ohhh!" you suddenly realize, and then the boys swoon over you when you pronounce the characters out loud to yourself.

"Uh... I think I know what it means..." you feel your cheeks warm up from the crown to your jawline.

あなたのこえがすき。 a-na-ta-no-ko-e-ga-su-ki.

"I like your voice, too." you respond to Satoru, and he half-gets it and gives you a thumbs up.

"Thanks."

You look at each other and then promptly look away with shy smiles.

"You two are cute." Suguru comments.

"Ahah... ahah shut up... hey, the sky has cleared up." you point out.

"Ooh... it cleared up 'cuz Satoru walked back into the room."

You awe at what he said.

"?"

"Nothing."

"Hey, Translator — (stop talking about me behind my back!)"

Suguru chuckles, "I wasn't! I was just — never mind. Let's get ready to head out."

And so you head into Satoru's bedroom to get ready, and Suguru heads into his bedroom, and Satoru himself goes into the cramped bathroom. Poor boy. He's really too tall for that archway, he bumped his head again.

彼女に花を買ってあげるべきでしょうか？それともちょっと多すぎますか？ Should I buy her flowers? Or is it a bit too much?

（なんてことだ）、なぜこのシャツには穴が開いているのでしょう？ (Oh my god), why does this shirt have holes?

The door slides open, he steps out of the bathroom half-dressed, and intends to quickly slip into Suguru's bedroom to borrow a shirt instead of awkwardly knocking on his bedroom door and disturbing you.

But oh, you know what? The cheesiest possible thing happens instead. The universe likes making Satoru's life a little more fun in odd times. So the two of you encounter each other in the hallway; you're fully clothed and he's got just pants and socks on.

He stutters once, swallows awkwardly, and even more awkwardly places his hand on your head as if to say sorry for this inconvenience.

But you laugh in response to the funny situation.

ああ、またあの美しい笑い声。 Ah, that beautiful laugh again.

"Sorry." he mutters, and disappears to go get a shirt from Suguru.

"It's okay." you reply.

The image of your pretty smile is burned in his head.

You can hear him telling Suguru something in the other room, and then you hear Suguru's muffled laugh as a response.

"(Don't laugh! I'm embarrassed! She's seen me shirtless now! No one's seen me shirtless except you!)"

"(You're such a virgin.)"

"(Say that again, I dare you.)"

"(Sorry, I don't understand you. I don't speak virgin, only English and Japanese.)"

You're wondering why Satoru sounds so embarrassed and annoyed, and then he groans down the hallway. It feels like you're their roommate, it's funny.

"Hi."

The two of you encounter each other in the hall again. This time he has a shirt, yes. And this time Suguru is there, too, and he's holding back an amused smile. He fluffs Satoru's hair as a way of embarrassing him more.

So Satoru leaves, and he leaves in such a way that it's super comedic, making you and Suguru laugh. Ooh, what a laugh that boy has; his Addam's apple shifts up and down deliciously.

"Ah... Suguru? I need help with the washing machine..."

"Yes...?"

"...this kid on the plane who sat next to me, he spilled strawberry juice all over my shirt and now it's sticky."

"But at least it smells like strawberries, right?" he jokes. "You can put it in the washing machine, I'll be doing the laundry in a second anyways..." there is a small moment of eye contact shared, then Suguru looks down, and frowns at something he sees, "(SATORU YOU LEFT YOUR SOCK ON THE FLOOR AGAIN!)"

"(Haha, sorry.)" you hear Satoru half-heartedly apologize from the other room.

So Suguru picks up the sock like an annoyed mother and goes to lecture Satoru.

"(You're embarrassing me in front of our guest. For the love of god, don't leave your goofy ass socks on the floor. What if she slips on them?)"

"(You're such a mother, Suguru.)"

You're calmly and casually going to put your juice-stained shirt in the washing machine like Suguru said, but then...

(the boys are talking and there's just this hilariously dramatic scream from the laundry room)

"DID THE CAT SCRATCH YOU?"

"(Did the cat scratch her?)"

"Ow, y-yeah!" you whine.

Suguru's the first one at the crime scene, and he picks up the cat and proceeds to lecture the cat as if it understands Japanese. It licks its lips and nubby nose and has an evil stare. You giggle.

"I'm so sorry... come, uh — (Suguru, we still have Hello Kitty adhesives somewhere, right?)" Satoru instinctually holds your hand that got scratched.

And he holds it so tenderly and caringly that it makes your whole chest quake for him.

彼女の手の傷はとても小さなものですが、それでも私は心臓がチクチクするのを感じました。 Although the wound on her hand was very small, I still felt my heart tingle.

He leads you to his bedroom, picking up some adhesives and antiseptic on the way, and sits with you on the unmade beds. You watch his fingers nimbly peeling the plastic off the adhesive, admiring how swiftly and perfectly he does even the littlest things. He has such a great attention to detail, it makes you self-conscious; is he thinking of you with the same attention to detail as everything else? Yes... he is.

He dabs some antiseptic on your small scratch, and then gently wraps and pats the Hello Kitty adhesive around it. You're pretty sure he's the one who bought them. Oh, if only you could ask him, but where even is your phone? Lost in a void somewhere, probably.

"Thank you, Satoru."

His eyes light up. His heart thumps. Why did those small, simple words have such a great effect on him?

"Mhm." he hums in acknowledgement. "You're welcome."

あなたの傷がもっと良くなるようにキスしたいです。 I want to kiss your wounds to make them better.

A second after thinking this and looking at your hand, he brings it to his lips and presses a very delicate kiss to the edge of your wrist, where the small cut spanned up to the base of your palm. Can you even call it a kiss? It's more like his lips graze your skin, hovering timidly.

And for some reason... the atmosphere becomes very intimate. Is it because of the place where he kissed you? The inner wrist has never occurred to you to be an intimate spot, and yet you're feeling as if he just kissed you on the lips.

You hear him audibly swallow, like he's conscious of this, too. The both of you become very aware of the tension in the atmosphere.

And then he looks apologetic, as if he overstepped a boundary. So you mutter a small, whispery "thanks..." which lifts his heart up into his throat and reassures him that you don't mind the intimacy.

"Mmm..." he blinks at you, pursing his lips.

His eyes linger on your lips for a moment, and it feels like he's about to... well you know his body just wants to... he sort of...

"Hey, how's the wounded patient?" Suguru interrupts, and you and Satoru spring apart like you're elastic bands that just got released after being stretched.

"Ahah, I'm okay. It's not a bad scratch." you lift your hand, "I'll cherish this Hello Kitty Bandaid forever, thank you."

"Yeah, Satoru bought 'em so you can thank him."

"I knewww he bought them, haha! So expected... cutiepie." you admire Satoru, and he's pretty sure that the last thing you said is some cute nickname, so he smirks.

"Okay, well... anyways, let's head out before the sun rises too high and it gets too hot to walk."

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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maybemingomango · 8 months

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tired eyes

pairing: gojo x reader

wc: 790

warnings: light angst, minor manga spoilers

a/n: tagging @shotorus in this bc sel your sleepy gojo thoughts made me unable to stop thinking about this idea I've wanted to write. I know this is so different to the vibes of what you were talking about but I figured you deserved the tag since this lil drabble finally made its way out of my head bc of you <3 (pls don't feel like you need to read this I'm nervy just tagging you lol)

Gojo’s keys clang loudly against the bowl on the table in the entryway, and he has half a mind to cringe at the noise, seeing as it’s so late and you’re probably asleep by now. He unzips his jacket as he drags his feet in the direction of the bedroom, heaving out a sigh and finally letting his shoulders relax a little, letting some of the tension he’s been harboring for days leave his body. He's so tired that he feels like he could fall asleep in his clothes without even crawling beneath the duvet, though he knows he should at least shower first. But that's all forgotten when he steps into the warm glow spilling into the hallway from the light on your nightstand, and he hesitates for a moment when he notices that you're not asleep—in fact, you're very much awake, like you've been waiting for him.

Your gaze darts up when you see the figure in the doorway, a smile immediately lighting up your face. “You’re home,” you say as you set aside the book you were reading and pull your headphones off.

Gojo raises an eyebrow, making his way to the edge of the bed where you rise onto your knees to meet him. “You’re still up?”

And you nod, shrugging one shoulder slightly as you bring your hands up to cup his face. “Of course. Can’t really sleep well when I’m waiting for you to come back from a mission, ya know?” You say it so casually, but it makes him frown knowing you’re referring to the nineteen agonizing days he was gone from you. You lean in to close the distance between you two, pressing your lips to his in a hungry kiss that has him grasping your waist and pulling you flush against him.

“Well, as much as I wish you wouldn’t stay up just for me, I’m glad you did,” he murmurs into your mouth.

“Mmm,” is all you hum in response, pushing your fingertips underneath his blindfold. And then you kiss his nose, then his forehead, and then briefly his lips again.

And those lips fall into probably the prettiest pout you’ve ever seen. “You gonna take it off?” he asks, his voice low, and normally the tone would have you moving quickly to take everything off of him, but not tonight. Tonight, his voice is low with exhaustion, and you'd noticed the way it seemed to seep into his bones the moment he entered the room.

“No,” you say softly, and he nearly whines, “you’re tired. Your eyes—” You gently let your fingertips smooth across his eyelids over the blindfold “—I’m sure they need the rest.”

Gojo had a penchant for coming home with migraines after missions, all that time with his blindfold off to help him fight draining him and making his eyes even more sensitive than normal, and you’re sure tonight is no different.

“But I want to see you.”

The corner of your mouth tilts up. “I may not know exactly how your technique works, Satoru, but I know you can see me.”

And this time he does whine, squeezing your waist and pressing his forehead against yours. “You know it’s not the same. I wanna see you.”

You hum, stringing him along like you’re thinking about it and toying with the edge of the black fabric. “Okay,” you finally say, “just a peek, yeah?” Before he even has a chance to respond you're lifting it off and dropping it to the side. His hair falls around his face, messier than it normally is, and you gently brush it back.

Gojo blinks a couple of times to adjust his eyes to the light, and your chest tightens at the sleepy smile he gives you, at the way his eyes seem dimmer than usual. “Hi,” he whispers.

And you’re suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion that has you blinking back tears. “Hi.” You cup his face again, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. “I missed you.”

He flashes you a grin. “Aww, no need to miss me too much, you know I can’t stay away from you.”

And you both know it’s his attempt to lighten the mood, to pretend that someday there's going to be a time when you’re not waiting up for him, when you can be at peace despite knowing his responsibilities will always take him away for days at a time, when he's not carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders—when there's not a very real possibility that someday he may not come home to you.

So you decide that today you two will pretend, and you let your tears fall, giving him a wobbly smile. “I know.”

reblogs & comments always appreciated <3

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maybemingomango · 8 months

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— ♡ — 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 || 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 — ♡ —

Gojo’s in the middle of an important meeting, but chatting with his wife and daughter is his only priority.

“Satoru, can you please get off of your damn phone?”

Holding up a finger to the frustrated CEO as if to say, “give me a minute,” Gojo laughed casually as he kept his phone pressed against his ear.

The thirteen sharply dressed businessmen seated at the conference table all had their eyes fixated on the chatty sorcerer, who was asked to attend a very important meeting regarding the recent appearance of a special grade curse lurking around the company’s headquarters.

“Really?” Gojo said enthusiastically, leaning back in his office chair, swerving from side to side just a bit. “And what else did you do? What’d you learn at school today?”

Some of the impatient men were less aggravated once they realized who he was talking to — his beloved five year old daughter.

“You learned about the life cycle of a butterfly? Oh, that’s amazing . . . And you drew a picture of one? We’re just gonna have to hang it on the fridge then . . . Mommy packed you your favorite sandwich for lunch? Did you gobble it all up? Sounds like you had a fun day, muffin-”

“Satoru.”

The CEO called the sorcerer’s name again, but the man ignored him, grinning as he listened to his adorable daughter ramble on and on about her exciting day.

“Daddy’s gotta hang up soon, he’s in a very important meeting right now. Can you put mommy on the phone?”

As Gojo spoke sweetly to the young girl over the phone, he glared at the CEO, who sighed in utter defeat once the white-haired man still refused to get off of his phone.

“This is ridiculous, Gojo,” the older man grumbled. “It’s rude, unprofessional, and disrespectful to do this in the middle of a meeting!”

“Yeah?” Gojo raised his eyebrows. “If my daughter calls me, I’m going to answer. And you’re crazy if you think I’m not going to speak to my wife as well.”

“But we have a serious situation that needs to be discussed-”

“No, not really. This meeting is entirely unnecessary, considering I could just kill the curse and be done with it. My kid telling me about caterpillars matters more to me than anything you have to say right now, sir.”

For a moment, as the CEO sighed heavily in frustration, the big conference room was completely silent until Gojo suddenly spoke up.

“Hi baby,” Gojo beamed at the sound of your beautiful voice in his right ear. “Did you have a good day? I miss you . . . What? The store ran out of rice? You’re right, that is ridiculous. Want me to stop at a different store on the way home? . . . I know what kind, sweetheart . . . I’ll be home before dinner, I promise . . . No, I love you more and that’s not up for debate, sorry . . . Alright, I gotta hang up too . . . Okay . . . Bye, baby.”

Once Gojo hung up, the CEO sighed once again, but this time, with relief. But, as he started to speak, Gojo instantly got up from his chair.

“Hey, where are you going?” The CEO shouted, watching as Gojo headed straight for the door, smiling causally with his hands in his pockets.

“I’m going to kill that curse so I can go home. My wife needs more rice and my daughter wants to show me her butterfly picture, so I’m not staying here for a stupid meeting.”

The CEO’s protests were cut off by Gojo shutting the door behind him as he left the conference room.

And, this was, perhaps, the quickest amount of time in which Gojo had ever killed a special grade curse. After all, he missed his beautiful family, and he’d always make it home, no matter what.

— Part II —

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maybemingomango · 8 months

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on your wedding day, after everyone has seen you walk down the aisle, and satoru’s wiped away his tears (and yours), after you’ve hugged and shaken hands and shared kisses with adoring family and friends happy for the newlyweds gojo, and when you finally have a quiet, intimate moment to yourselves, satoru whispers in your ear,

“i think i was born to love you.”

it’s unthinkable to you, that such a blessed human being would reduce his own purpose to something so simple, but for him this is the grandest, most sacred task in the world.

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maybemingomango · 8 months

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all mine

summary: gojo is sad to hear that all his students think he's out of your league.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

cw: lovesick!gojo, lots and lots of fluff

wc: 600ish

an: i have a love and hate relationship with this one. i started it like two weeks ago and really didn't like it but i didn't want my effort to go to waste ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა

“i miss you,” satoru whines like a child begging for attention.

“this is what you call me for?” you ask wearily, as you balance your phone between your ear and shoulder trying your best to write on the chalkboard and continue your lesson uninterrupted.

“is it really a crime to call my wife?” satoru feigns a disappointed pout and although the two of you are apart you can picture it perfectly.

“no…but you are quite…distracting,” you respond gently, wanting to appease your needy husband in hopes that the call would end soon and you could continue teaching your students in peace. but to your dismay, your coddling only encourages his immature antics further.

“you really are obsessed with me, aren’t you? you just can’t get enough-”

THUD!

the loud hollow noise almost makes satoru jump in his seat, his phone falling in his lap.

“says the one calling me!” you yell through the conjoined wall of your classrooms as you slam your fist again. this time the wall shudders at the impact, making the chalkboard in his classroom tremble.

“sensei, your wife is way out of your league,” nobara grumbles distastefully from her desk, not amused by his behavior.

“agreed,” megumi adds bluntly, his nose still shoved in his book.

“sorry sensei, but i think i’m also going to have to agree with them,” yuji says timidly but automatically regrets it due to the defeated look he gets from his teacher.

without a second thought, satoru gets up from his designated chair and walks out. he only has to take a few strides to the right before he’s already in your classroom where you’re teaching your own students.

you look up from your desk in shock as he trudges his way towards you, a deep frown already painted on his face.

“are you out of my league?”

you find yourself tilting your head to the side, confused by the sudden question. you open your mouth to respond but three very annoyed voices beat you to it.

“yes,” panda and maki say confidently in unison while inumaki responds with an onigiri ingredient, only validating their answer. their reply makes you cringe as you watch your husband’s expression darken and his shoulders sag instinctively.

“okay, i guess we’ll finish early today. i’ll see you all first thing in the morning,” you announce as you clap your hands together, signaling the second years to file out of the classroom.

now with the room completely empty, the silence between the two of you is deafening. you take a deep breath, contemplating what to say next.

“did you really think you’d get a different answer?” you ask teasingly, trying your best to lighten the mood.

“no,” satoru says with a pout.

“is that so?” you shoot him a sympathetic smile as you pat your lap, persuading him to come closer. satoru eagerly walks over to your chair to kneel in front of you, dipping his head down to let it rest in your lap.

“i already knew you were too good for me,” he mumbles pathetically into your uniform.

you hum absent-mindedly in response, as you let your hands get lost in his white fluffy hair.

“i’m just jealous because now i know who the favorite is. and i don’t like the idea of sharing my wife,” satoru complains as he shyly peaks up at you, his blindfold now pulled back to rest on the top of his forehead, holding his hair back like a headband.

“you don’t ever have to worry about sharing me,” you reassure him affectionately, cupping his cheeks in your hands. he leans into your touch as if it’s second nature, savoring the feeling of your warm skin against his. even after years of being together, your touch makes him feel like he’s falling in love all over again.

he places his hand over yours, enveloping it completely, refusing to let you go.

“my wife is just too perfect and she’s all mine.”

an: oof well I hope you enjoyed !!

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maybemingomango · 1 year

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guess who’s back from the dead >:)

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maybemingomango · 1 year

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▻ 𝐁𝐍𝐇𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐍 + 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐒

Pairing. Bakugou, Izuku, Shoto, Touya x Fem!Reader (Separately)

Rating. Explicit/ NSFW

WC. 1.5k+

CW/ TW. Best Friend’s Sister, Cockwarming, Slightly Rough Sex, Best Friends to Lovers, Exhibitionism, Breast F*cking, Established Relationship, Possessiveness, Pet Names (ex. Baby, Bunny, Sweetheart, Doll), Praise

AN. Hi! This is a repost because my old account broke...SOBS. All comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated, thank you :)

M. List

Katsuki Bakugou shouldn’t want you. You’re his best friend’s little sister. Yet he can’t help staring at how your chest looks in those low-scooped tops you seem to wear whenever he’s at your house. He wonders if you do it on purpose, but you’re all shy smiles whenever he’s around. It’s why he smirks when he ends up leaving little love bites on the tops of your breasts when he finally gets you alone, just to see the fucking adorable little face you make as you try to cover them up.

He has you in his lap on his bed with an arm wrapped around your waist to keep you from squirming away while his cock is buried deep inside your warm, slick heat. His mouth litters splotches of blue and purple on the tops of your breasts, deep groans rumbling in his chest every time your pussy clenches down on him with every sweet reminder.

“K-Katsu, people will see!” you squeak.

But he doesn’t hear you as he finds your nipple, rolling it beneath deft fingers. He’s almost mesmerized by the sight of it pebbling into a tight peak—the skin around it turning flushed and sensitive.

“So fucking pretty,” he growls, biting his lip as he finally looks up at you under hooded lids. “Your tits are perfect, baby. Just let me play with them a bit more, and then I’ll fuck you. I promise.”

If only you knew that he is nowhere near finished with you.

You’re gasping and writhing, unable to do anything except sit there while he overstimulates you. When he finally rolls you over onto your back, you’ve already cum twice, but that doesn’t stop him from drilling into your sloppy little hole.

His warm mouth flicks against your hot flesh, loving how you quiver underneath him. “You’re so sensitive, huh, baby?” he rasps, nosing the soft swell of your breast.

You mewl out a broken Katsu, not really answering him as your nails bite into his shoulders. He can’t get over the way you look right now—the way you sound. He’ll never be able to go back to pretending that you are Kiri’s annoying little sister as he watches drool trail from the side of your mouth from how good he’s fucking you.

“Do you know how filthy you look right now?” he huffs, teeth nipping your collarbone. “You’re going to let me ruin you, though. Isn’t that right?”

~~~~~~

The first time Izuku Midoriya sees your breasts, it’s an accident. You’re at the beach, playing with him in the water when a wave hits both of you and washes your bikini top away. And like any good best friend would, he covers your breasts with his hands because you’re still too shocked to let go of his shoulders. You give him a sweet smile and mutter a thank you. Meanwhile, Izuku is reeling at how your soft, fleshy mounds perfectly fit his scarred palms. It has his cock jumping in his trunks, and he wants—no, needs—more as his fingers squeeze around you experimentally.

You’re spread out on your towel under the canopy of the large beach umbrella, the shirt Izuku gave you pushed up and held out of the way between your teeth. His broad shoulders conceal most of your body so nobody can see how he’s teasing your sensitive nipples into his warm mouth—your fingers digging into the hair at his nape to keep him there.

He never thought he’d ever see you like this: Whimpering soft Izu’s under your breath, cheeks flushed, and grinding against his thigh like you couldn’t get enough of him. The lines of an eight-year friendship blur behind your soft squeaks and his low groans.

If only he could keep you like this forever, but he also fears your little sounds will eventually give both of you away.

And he doesn’t want that.

He glances up at your blissed-out face with burning cheeks and releases your nipple with a gentle pop. His shirt falls from your teeth as you whine, your foot stomping against the towel cutely: “Izu, why’d you stop? You were doing so good.”

Heat rushes to his dick from the praise, and his breath fans across your spit-slick skin shakily. “B-bunny, you have to be quiet.”

You nod eagerly, your grip tightening in his hair to bring him back towards you. “M’kay, I’ll be quiet. Just don’t stop. Please?”

And when your thigh brushes the tent in his trunks, he can’t stop the way his eyes roll so far into the back of his head from the contact. Izuku is practically drooling when he takes your tight, sensitive peak back into his mouth—hardly paying attention to the wanton moans you fail to suppress as you grind your thigh against him again.

~~~~~~

Shoto Todoroki couldn't stop staring at your chest after you had his son—at how well you now fill out every top your wear. He can’t even keep his hands to himself whenever you’re around, his hands shamelessly wandering too close to the underside of your breasts. Some days when he comes home from a stressful day of hero work, he’ll lay atop your chest and press sloppy kisses against whatever skin he can reach until he falls asleep. Although, he loves when you help him relieve stress in other ways, too.

“F-fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, unable to take his eyes off the way his leaky tip peeks out from between your pillowy mounds.

You stick out your tongue to lick away the pearl of white drooling out of his slit, only to spit it back onto his cock to help aid your movements. It has his length throbbing at how absolutely messy it is, and holy shit, if it doesn’t feel good. He knows he’s not going to last much longer, and he’s torn on whether or not to stop you or let you keep going.

“How’s it feel, Sho?” you coo up at him, batting your eyelashes like you don’t already know what you’re doing to him.

“‘S’good, baby. So good,” he curses, hips shuddering to thrust up, watching his length disappear between your soft skin.

The pretty smile that adorns your lips makes his heart flutter and balls tighten. “Yeah? You gonna cum?”

“I don’t—I, fuck, yes.” He’d rather finish with his face buried in your tits, but his head is too fuzzy to tell you this.

You hum softly. “I want you to cum on me. Can you do that?”

Your words are his final undoing—groaning at the thought of him marking you like this.

He feels the burning in his gut before he can stop it, his cock pulsing until thick, hot jets of white paint your chest. It makes everything sticky and sloppy, sending a weak burst of liquid pleasure rushing up his spine before he slumps against the chair with a satisfied sigh.

~~~~~~

Touya Todoroki loves when you’re like this. Soft and pliant beneath him, a pretty glaze filling your watery gaze.

He doesn’t know where to look—can’t decide between the smattering of possessive splotches littering the inside of your thighs or the ones that travel across the tops of your perfect breasts.

But it's easily decided for him when he presses his sensitive cock back into your fluttering cunt, unable to tear his eyes away from how your pillowy mounds bounce with every one of his harsh, desperate thrusts. His thumb smooths over a peaked nipple—bitten raw and pinched tight—and he curses under his breath at the feel of you tightening around him just from the simple touch.

You tell him how good he feels under a hitched breath, and his chest tightens because he can’t remember the last time someone had actually referred to him as good. It makes his head spin, makes him feel soft, even though the length of the scars on his body would say otherwise…

Touya ducks his head down to suck another little bruise right above your nipple, his lips curling against your skin slightly, knowing that he’ll be the only one that’ll know it exists.

“Shit, doll,” he breathes harshly, already close. “I wish you could see how you look? All wet and pretty.”

You mewl, arching into him at the praise.

“Maybe I should take a picture, huh? Would you let me? So I can look at you like this,” —he thrusts deep, making sure you can feel him in your stomach— “all damn day.”

And just like that, you tighten up, practically choking his cock, and he fills up your pussy for the second time that night.

Tagging. @weebaboobs @jordyn-degas

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maybemingomango · 1 year

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minecraft gives me feelings but one of the Strongest Feelings is when endermen talk. tryna figure out how to draw them

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maybemingomango · 1 year

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The Creeper and The Creeper Whisperer [Docm77 x Reader]

Fluff, Request: Doesn’t have to b a req if u don’t want but imagine doc x a reader who is like somehow really friendly to hostile mobs and despite not being a creeper hybrid they are really chill w creepers and stop ppl from killing them and stuff and he’s like “oh em gosh??? Someone who doesn’t hate my kind???” Or sum

This may not 100% fit what you asked but I adore the idea of reader just being a creeper magnet and somehow cuddling up with the things completely safely so I kind of went with those vibes rather than a normal dude who just doesn't kill them. Sorry if that's not what you wanted but brainrot be rotting the brain

Tw. Death mention? Once I think, nothing happens (especially bc respawn mechanics are a thing) but the boom booms are dangerous and that is pointed out. Also sorry if this a bit directionless but I just wanted to get something out.

--------------------

You were a funny little phenomenon. On most fronts you were a fairly average person. Your skills in both architecture and redstone were much more than praise worthy, but other than that you didn't have much to you at first glance. Except for one interesting quirk.

Creepers were universally recognized and feared bundles of eventual destruction. The cause of many lost lives, items, and chunks of wall. Yet, you adored the walking bombs.

It's a mystery why they were so passive towards you, but it felt like every single one returned your feelings. Your life from childhood was dotted with the unusual memories of them being unusually friendly. From feeding those still left from the previous night to patching up the scratched up ones you'd find in the forest or while mining. You were kind to them and they never posed a threat to you.

You had a similarly symbiotic relationship with other hostile creatures, but it wasn't exactly the same. It was only creepers that actually bonded over to you with (metaphoricaly) open arms, but you would still take care of a stray enderman or skeleton if you came across one.

That's probably why you ran a mob sanctuary out of your base. It was your first season with the hermits, and to be frank- you were overwhelmed as all hell. They were a fun lot and you knew your skills could stand their own here. However, between all the acclimating, socializing, manual labor you've been pulling your mind and body were left in desperate need of some less physically and mentally strenuous work.

The sanctuary was your pride and joy. You had a wealth of knowledge on how to care for all of them and the means to give them a place to stay to match.

It was practically a massive zoo enclosure, walls made to look as natural as possible, shallow artificial rivers, trees you had built yourself, all completed with a faux cave area harder to reach and nearly impossible to see from the outskirts of the area.

Whenever your current projects got too taxing, or you happened to stumble across an injured mob, you would spend days at a time looking after the ever-revolving cast of inhabitants of the sanctuary. Some you planed to keep, (mostly the weaker and/or younger creepers who especially imprinted on you) others you set free once they were sufficiently healthy.

It was a place of peace for you as much as they were for your patients. You welcomed the other hermits to visit when they showed interest. On the condition that they don't hurt any of the mobs. Predictably, when they realized 70% of the population was creepers not many were keen on the offer. It didn't bother you too much, more alone time for you this way.

Doc was one of the first to actually except. In hindsight you shouldn't have been all that surprised that he wouldn't have to worry about all your explosives roaming about. Yet in all your creeper based experiences you haven't met a hybrid before him.

Not that you knew it, but he found you far more fascinating than you found him. A couple of the other hermits suggested he spend some time with you after they payed you their own visits. Always with some look in their eyes that blended amusement, curiosity, and scheming. When you explained your little side business he understood it.

You both were able to find humor in the situation, breaking the ice with jokes of losing him in the crowd and other stupid things of the like. Once that phase had passed you suggested that you sit down and eat the lunch you brought into the sanctuary.

After you both finished eating neither of you moved or talked, silently agreeing to relax a little while longer. He noticed that there was something that felt... just fundamentally correct about the moment. Like a comfortable stillness settled deep in his chest. And like a child running into a landed flock of pigeons, the feeling only fled the more he tried to grab hold.

Still, he attempted to pin it on something. Something. Perhaps like the person sitting a little ways out of arms reach from him. With a dreamy, far-off gaze as you watched the creatures living their lives in safety of your favorite project. As much as he didn't want to stare, the fact that he could see the very spell he was under a moment ago on your face was nearly as captivating as the peacefulness itself.

He found himself visiting you again and again after that day.

By with point you knew Doc enough to see the weight of many sleepless nights on him. You were familiar with his mad scientist shtick and how long and bright those overworking episodes burned.

You knew your probably magic connection to creepers was affecting him to some degree, but frankly you didn't care. If it got him to regularly sit down, eat, and take a nap then it was perfectly moral in your mind.

While you were in thay routine it felt like it could go on forever. It was nice and comfortable, yet it was really just the origin story of your relationship.

It just came naturally. You balanced each other out well. He even got you to loose couple nights of sleep to explain his redstone to you. You may or may not joke that you have since been cursed with "lovecraftian knowledge".

You lost track of when your "hangouts" became "dates" and when every nap consisted of a lot of cuddling. You wouldn't have it any other way, as cheesy as that would sound out loud. You didn't care, you were both happy. That's all either of you need.

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maybemingomango · 1 year

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Can I interest you guys in something I just thought about?

So in Minecraft, Enderman don’t like to be looked at right? So how about an Enderman!Yan that is completely flustered and bashful cause their darling keeps staring at them. They tried to explain they don’t like it, the darling should just treat them like a silent caretaker. That they are really just trying to keep the darling safe from the countless terrible monsters out there, especially the Yan’s own kin!! But they won’t stop and the Yan is just so upset about it, they want the darling to stop! Just stop!

So the darling shouldn’t be so surprised about their Yan finally snapping, pinning them beneath them with a mix of embarrassment and fury in their glowing eyes, telling them to close their fucking eyes or they’ll become the monster that the Yan is trying to keep them safe from desperately and pluck them out.

Of course, when the darling finally complies out of fear, they’ll just wrap their head in a cloth before the Yan holds their darling close, apologizing over and over for scaring them like that, saying everything will be alright now and they won’t ever scare them again if they keep on the blindfold from now on.

Okay, that’s it, I just had to get this idea out of my mind. Maybe I’ll write it, because that would be kind of a cute yandere imo.

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maybemingomango · 1 year

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"Stop fucking looking at me like that!"

Referencing this post I made, I thought why not :��D

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Rummaging through the big chest, Enderman supplied it with the new items he gathered. Meat, vegetables, a potion for the worst case. Buckets of water and milk, everything you needed to have as a human. It should be enough to last at least for the upcoming weak, but you had been complaining about it rotting and molding since you couldn’t eat it fast enough or preserve it. You were also craving fruits. Biting his lip, he thought hard about how to accommodate your wishes better when he suddenly heard the growling of a zombie nearby, making him come to an immediate stop.

If he was quiet enough, the zombie shouldn’t be able to make you out inside this little, sparely filled room he created. No one said it would be easy to accumulate enough obsidian to build this hut. Still, it was the only way to keep you safe, even if it took him forever. All these monsters and treacherous villagers outside were after you, and even if he was able to keep them at bay for a long time, what if one day he couldn’t be around to keep you from harm? Perhaps it wasn’t a very pretty domicile, but it was safe. The only light source was one window, but he built it high enough so no zombie, skeleton, or creeper would be able to look through it. He collected a bed for you, chests, and books from the village, but that was all there was to keep you busy.

Enderman listened intently, waiting for the footsteps and grunts to disappear before he could let out a sigh of relief. Even with all the precautions he made, one could never be too safe. Even if he wasn’t worried about himself, if it was for you, he’d do everything to keep you far away from the dangerous mobs roaming the world. Continuing to pack your chest with edibles, he didn’t notice you slowly waking up, rising behind him. Enderman made a point out of coming at night rather than day to avoid the one thing that made him uncomfortable. While he would have loved interacting with you, the human custom of keeping eye contact was something he could never bear to endure. Not even for you.

Even now, your eyes drilling into his back, he began to shake anxiously, hoping you’d recognize him and go back to sleep.

But you didn’t.

You never did.

“It’s late,” he chuckled nervously, slowly closing the lid of the chest before standing up. He had to raise the ceiling quite a bit after realizing he couldn’t fit the space after he built it. Even if he could teleport in and out at his leisure, with his size, it would have been hard to stay with you in an emergency had he kept it at his first draft. But he learned that humans quite liked high ceilings, and secretly he hoped that meant you liked him too, considering his size.

“You should be sleeping. I brought new food, so you can rest assured.”

Was he just talking to overcome the awkwardness? You’ve been nearly killing him with this silent treating of yours, only ever looking at the back of his head. It was unfathomable why you’d treat him with such disrespect. He had voiced his discomfort more than once, but you insisted that you hated his treatment of you, and as such, he’d have to endure the same. But how could you? All of this was only ever in your best interest. Out there, you’d have done the same to keep safe - build a home and gathered food - so why did you hate it when he did it? Wasn’t he good to you? Didn’t he try his best to fulfill all your wishes? Was it too much to ask for that you were safe under his care?

“Please stop,” he whispered with clenched teeth, the shaking of his body getting stronger. “What more do I need to do to make you stop looking at me like that?”

“Let me go,” you finally spoke up, the sound of your voice almost as beautiful as he remembered it–no, even better! A quiet gasp escaped him after finally receiving a word from you, and he turned around for the first time in forever to face you.

A big mistake.

Your eyes met as Enderman suddenly felt overcome with a wave of emotions. He wished it had been only positive ones, but there was no way he could escape his instincts. Doubling over in pain, he grunted, trying to keep himself under control, but to no avail. Even in his state, he could clearly perceive the shuffling of blankets as you got up, noticing the state he was in. Though he wanted to believe you cared for him, it was clear you were merely concerned about what to do if something happened to him. But that would be enough. Even if you just liked him for his use, it would be enough to satisfy him. As long as he could keep you safe, you could use him as much as he wanted.

The obsidian made no sound as he gripped you by the wrists, slamming you into the wall. Your body, on the other hand, made an absolutely horrifying crack, so much so, Enderman feared the worst already. But one look at your eyes showed them clear as day, still very much able to perceive him. Perhaps adrenaline soothed your pain momentarily.

“Stop fucking looking at me like that! I told you so many times to fucking stop! When will you listen?!”

His yell filled the whole space around you two. If he hadn’t been seething with anger, he’d have instantly regretted raising his voice. No less because it could have attracted unwanted visitors. Enderman had never lashed out at you before, never done anything that would put you into the opposite of what he wanted - danger. But here he was, eyes falling to your mouth as your breath hitched, unable to form a word. All you did - finally! - was looking down and away from him before pinching your eyelids close tightly.

Immediately, he felt much calmer, now that you weren’t drilling holes into him anymore. Regaining his senses, he let go of you, letting you plummet back onto the bed he held you above. Whether or not you were in pain wasn’t something either of you seemed to notice. Instead, you were quick to hug yourself, fearful tears rolling from the closed corners of your eyes despite no sobs escaping you. You had no weapons to defend yourself, and a punch didn’t do as much as one of his did to you. It must have been a big shock for you to see the other side of Enderman, one you had a hard time comprehending.

Placing his hand on your shoulder, you flinched noticeably before finally breaking down into crying, collapsing forward onto the mattress. Enderman stood there lost for words or actions to console you, wanting to say something, apologize even! It didn’t matter who’s fault it was, he never wanted to see you hurt or crying! That’s why he did all of this after all!

Instead, he remembered the peculiar thing he found in one of the villages. It was a banner, something he thought you might enjoy hanging up in your tiny home, but when he reached for it now, he had a different idea of what to do with it. Ripping off the bottom wasn’t easy even for him, especially since he allowed no tools or scissors in this safe space. But once he had it, he returned to your side, kneeling next to your bed and lifting your head gently. You tried to turn your face away, but he had a tight grip on you, nudging you to face him. Good as you were, you kept your eyes closed still.

Even if he couldn’t be sure how to do it, he loosely tied the cloth around your head, covering your eyes with it. “W-What…?” you stuttered meekly, feeling the fabric on your skin, and Enderman hushed you gently. “This will do. You won’t be able to look at me this way. You’ll never need to be afraid anymore; this will keep you safe, I promise.”

Whether his assurance went through to you, he couldn’t decide, unable to read your expression as you bit your lip. Your body began to shake again, and it felt almost like his whenever you made him uncomfortable and anxious. Enderman knew this feeling all too well, but you wouldn’t need to bear it alone. He could if he had to, but he wouldn’t let you go through these complicated feelings alone.

Easily, with inhuman strength, he picked you up, sitting down where you had been just seconds ago, and lifted you into his lap. Finally, his big body and long arms were good for something, even if he hadn’t expected it would be comforting you. If it was for him, you two could have continued the relationship you had. Enderman would have simply stayed by your side while you slept, brushing the hair out of your face and pulling up the blanket over you to make sure you had a good rest. You didn’t need to recognize his efforts, and you could even scream at him if you’d prefer that, but it wouldn’t have mattered. He knew you were safe and well-taken care of, and he’d never forget you needed him. That was enough.

But now that he held you in his arms, he wasn’t sure if it was enough for him anymore.

Now that this awful habit of looking at him had been prevented, nothing was stopping him from being close to you. Now he could touch you, hold you, comfort you tenderly! All without fearing what might happen. “It’s going to be alright now,” he hushed you sweetly. “I’m so sorry I lashed out, I will do everything to make it up to you! I’ll bring new books and flowers to decorate with soon, everything will be okay. You can always rely on me; I’ll keep you company from now on, trust me!”

He meant it. Even if he didn’t understand most of the complicated feelings you had, you must have felt relieved as you started to cry even more. And so was he. He was relieved too. Who knew being with you so close, holding you, and swaying back and forth with you felt so wonderful. The only other time he held you, felt your warmth and heartbeat, had been when he teleported you inside of this room. Enderman had always believed that to be the height of all emotions, but he now realized there was so much more! So many more opportunities and feelings to explore. But you had time, right? He wouldn’t be greedy; he’d take his time to explore them all with you and enjoy them thoroughly.

After all, you were safest with him.

And he was the happiest with you.

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maybemingomango · 1 year

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Your Voice Makes My Ears Bleed

[ ❥ ] PAIRING: Shane x fem!Reader

»»————-　♡　————-««

[ ❥ ] SYNOPSIS: Shane just wants a night alone at the bar, but God, you just won’t shut up.

»»————-　♡　————-««

[ ❥ ] WORD COUNT: 1.6k

[ ❥ ] WARNINGS: A sprinkle of angst.

[ ❥ ] INCLUDES: Enemies to lovers :0

[ ❥ ] REQUESTED: Yes

[ ❥ ] NOTES: Unedited, read at your own risk (edit: this is part 1 and I cant think of anything to write for part 2 lol help)

»»————-　♡　————-««

“9:25,” read the clock.

Like a hostile reminder: “Hey, you’ve been here for hours. You’re really wasting your life away, aren’t you? God, so pathetic.”

He wished he could smash that clock. Throw it to the ground and stomp on it. Probably get a piece of glass stuck in his shoe, then he’d have to buy new ones. That’s the only reasonable thing he could think of as to why he shouldn’t throw that clock off the wall right then and there: he didn’t have enough spare cash for new shoes.

The black-haired boy sat glass in hand, elbows propped against the familiar hardwood. Glossy and warm, accustomed and preciously glazed. Hundreds of rings sat dried on the shine of the bar. He knew they were all his. No one else ever sat there except him.

Maybe Pam. She came there a lot. Maybe she and Shane could have been friends if they’d talked sooner. Now it’s just weird, feels wrong. They’ve gone so long without talking that it’s just a silent agreement between the two of them to leave it at that. So they do.

Today, Pam got to the Saloon after Shane. Not too long after, but it made him feel bad. He never got there before her. Was it this bad?

It was so late at night that he wasn’t expecting anyone else to pay a visit to the Saloon, but the door creaked open again and, in stepped a taller girl beaming with youth. Some may have even described her as ‘perky.’ In fact, Shane was pretty sure Leah actually had.

“Evening, Gus!” you spoke excitedly. Shane cringed and wondered how anyone could be that way willingly. So bright. It’s 9:30 at night, tone it down.

“Good evening. Can I get you anything?” Gus gave his usual spiel while washing dishes to prepare for closing.

You leaned down onto the bar, tipping your straw hat slightly upward to get a better look at the menu, “Hmm,” you stared, scanning every line before looking back at Gus, “You got any Sashimi tonight?”

Shane rolled his eyes and tried not to scoff loud enough for you to hear him. Sashimi? Why would anyone like something like that? It’s just raw fish, how could something get worse than that?

You must have heard him anyways because when he looked back in your direction to continue eavesdropping, all he saw was your eyes looking at his, eyebrows pinched downward with what was either annoyance or anger. He was too drunk to tell.

“You got something against Sashimi, chicken boy?”

He looked at Gus, trying to avoid any sort of confrontation, but Gus didn’t look back. He was busy working.

“Of course, I have something against Sashimi. It’s raw fish and that’s it. How could anyone ever in their right mind-”

And that’s when he noticed you were laughing. A soft and joyful laugh. He was confused.

“I was kidding, I don’t care. Everyone’s got different opinions, I don’t mind. This isn’t even for me anyway. Pierre has had a Sashimi craving for days now, and I can’t seem to get my hands on the stuff.” You looked at him with what he tried to recognize as a sincere smile. All he felt was embarrassed. You looked back at Gus, “So, you got any Sashimi?”

Gus scrubbed a dirty plate and looked disappointed back at you, “Sorry kiddo. We were selling some last night, seems you missed it,” He paused briefly to turn off the sink and dry his hands, “Thankfully for you, I should be getting some more fish soon if Willy hurries up. That man’s been having a rough season, can’t seem to catch anything lately.” Gus leaned against the bar after speaking.

“Yeah, I heard about that. Real shame. Real early spring isn’t good for fishing I’ve heard. The cold’s going away and the fish don’t know where to go.” Gus nodded slowly in response.

After a brief pause, he spoke up again, “On the subject of fish, tonight’s special is fish taco if you’re interested. Might as well eat something before you leave.”

A smile grew on your face, “That sounds great Gus, I’d love one if you don’t mind.”

Gus turned around to begin preparing the taco, “It’s my job!”

Shane tuned the rest out. Boring conversations about things he doesn’t even pay attention to. He picked out a few keywords like ‘Saloon’, ‘coop’, and ‘video game.’ The cheerful and politeness of it all made him almost sick to the stomach. The word ‘chicken’ really brought him back to focus.

“Coop should be done tomorrow!” you started, “Then I’ll head to Marnie’s for a chicken or two.”

“And these are your first chickens?” Gus asked.

“Yes sir!”

“Shane here is an expert at all things chickens,” Gus pointed slowly at Shane while grilling a fish, “He may not look it, but I assure you he’s the guy to go to when you have questions.”

You glanced back to Shane with what he thought was a scowl in his drunk mind, “I don’t know if he’s the best to go to for advice,” You looked back at Gus to point at Shane, “Look at him,” you attempted to whisper, “I think I got this.”

And he knew that was personal. It’s not like you didn’t know each other. You definitely did. And that’s what made it hurt more. Your history wasn’t good, but it was long. Sophomore year of high school, chemistry class. You sat right next to each other. A copy and paste next to a guy in a stained hoodie. A recipe for disaster.

Your teacher was too dumb to see that this was a bad idea.

You hated him because he talked about chickens too much. He hated you because your lip gloss smelled like cupcakes, and it made him want to throw up. You hated him because his boots always had dirt on them. He hated you because your thousands of pens and highlighters always spilled onto his desk.

We could go on.

It was the little things at first, but they piled up fast. Before Shane met you, he was sure he would never have the heart to kill someone with his own hands, but by the end of the year, he was quite certain he was capable of murder.

You had no reason to hate each other now. Sure, you still wore that lip gloss, and sure, he still talked about chickens too much, but most of the stuff he hated back then had faded, right?

But when you said what you had said he knew you were no different. Old habits die hard, he guessed.

Usually, he would choose to ignore it. But this time he was drunk. And he was very bored. And you looked extra punchable today.

“I’m right here,” he said.

You smiled devilishly, knowing precisely what you were doing, “I know.”

“You think just because I’m a sad drunk you can say stuff like that to me and it won’t affect me,” He stood up from his barstool and drank the rest of whatever alcoholic contraption was in his glass, “You think just because we’ve been doing this for years that it’s still okay? I’ve been trying to change you know,” he moved closer to you, and you backed away as much as you could on a barstool, “Clearly you haven’t. I thought you’d be mature enough by now to have realized that’s not okay. Now that I’m an adult and I’m not okay. We’re not teenagers anymore.” his speech barely slurred, and as he began rounding the corner, he could feel it.

The dizziness kicked in, and he knew it was coming. His stomach churned, and before he could think, he ran out the Saloon door to the closest trash can.

And he vomited. This taste was familiar to him; the sourness that coated his tongue. It was a part of the routine. Get mad at yourself, drink, get mad at the world, drink, vomit, repeat.

His stomach felt empty. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket and sat on the stairs of the Saloon. The door creaked open behind him, and you sat down next to him.

“Hey.”

He didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry about that. Seriously.”

He didn’t even look at you.

“I didn’t think you’d get that hurt by it.”

He didn’t even want to look at you.

“I mean, you talk about chickens a lot, so I guess it’s pretty obvious you’d get hurt by a comment like that.”

Maybe it was the embarrassment.

“Still, I’m sorry.”

Or maybe it was because he hated you.

“Shane.”

Or maybe it was the sound of your voice.

“Christ, Shane, stop being so childish, why won’t you-”

And so he did the only thing that would shut you up. Maybe if he thought about it more he would realize that after he did it you would talk even more. Thinking ahead wasn’t his forte.

He kissed you. Quickly, only for a few seconds. But he put his lips on yours without thinking and it didn’t feel wrong.

He was the one to break away. He kept a hand cupped on your cheek for a few seconds until you pushed him away to speak.

“Goddamnit Shane, you taste like vomit!” You yelled, standing up from the stairs to walk a few feet away from where he was sitting. You crossed your arms, “Why did you do that? Do you hate my voice that much?”

“Read my mind.”

You rolled your eyes and stormed away, “Jesus Christ, you are insane.”

And so he sat on the cold, concrete stairs. Alone.

He’ll apologize tomorrow.

»»————-　♡　————-««

[ ❥ ] ~ HUGGING KROBUS

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