#⊰ ➸ █ ┊❝ the sky is now your playground your home is now the sun. ( imagery ) ⊱ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zarameraki · 8 months

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♡₊˚🎀・₊✧ 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆 . . . 𝗼𝗿 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝗵𝗲? ♡₊˚🎀・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ read part one first

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 nanami forgot your birthday but he's got something special planned 𖥔 ceo x baker 𖥔 grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 she talks a lot x he listens a lot 𖥔 cold shoulder treatment 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sfw 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 super soft nanami 𖥔 close proximity

: ̗̀➛ words: 4.1 k

: ̗̀➛ notes: we're back again with fluffy nanami. honestly i shed a tear writing this one because it's just so adjfskdf. if you haven't read part one, go DO IT. RIGHT NOW. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!

It's been a year since you took that leap, moving in with Nanami. Every day spent in each other's company feels like a fresh chapter, and the magic of your relationship persists as if it were the very first night.

Nanami, with his gentle smile and warm eyes, never tires of recounting the story from his perspective. Each time you ask, he patiently agrees to retell it, even though you've long since memorized every detail. The familiarity of his narrative only adds to the charm, as if reliving those moments helps both of you cherish the journey that brought you together.

“You invited a couple of my colleagues to your bakery's opening, and they brought back leftover cookies and pastries to the office. I grabbed some, and with the first bite, I knew your bakery was going to be my favorite. So, I asked Gojo to drive me to your city, not knowing it was going to rain that night. With no parking nearby, I ended up walking. Halfway through, it started pouring. Luckily, I made it just in time, and there you were, smiling like the sun that was supposed to be in the sky. You offered me free food and shelter, and right then, darling, I fell in love with you. It was the most incredible feeling in the world.”

Each time he finishes his heartwarming story, you can't help but be overwhelmed with emotion. Without hesitation, you jump on him with a flurry of kisses, showering him with all the love you harbor for your sweet, stoic boyfriend.

You've shared every conscious moment together since then. With Nanami now working remotely, he'd set up at one of the dining tables in your bakery, delving into meetings and paperwork. You'd plant kisses on his cheek or embrace him from behind, providing a boost of energy. Delivering his special casse-croûte and milk coffee, you occasionally found yourself feeding him as his busy hands typed away. Breaks led to stolen moments in the back room, where you'd make out like teenagers.

Once at home, you'd strip out of your clothes, shower or bathe together, and engage in domestic activities like watching television or attempting to nap, but those often evolved into extended sessions of sex.

Today, silence lingered between you two following a heated argument the previous night.

Unbeknownst to Nanami, your birthday was just around the corner, yet he had scheduled a business trip on that very day. Despite the depth of his knowledge about your past, from childhood playground scars to the dresses you wore for school dances, he seemed oblivious to the significance of the impending date.

In a seemingly nonchalant manner, Nanami had mentioned, “Darling, I'll be away on a business trip from the sixth and will return on the eighth. We can plan a picnic or head to the beach—whatever you prefer.”

“The sixth?” You had to set your utensils down, turning to face him. Your meals were typically enjoyed on the carpet, with plates on the coffee table and your favorite movies playing on the television. “You have a business trip? On the sixth?”

“Yes, that's correct.”

“Kento, what the hell? Why?”

He arched an eyebrow. “It's my job, darling. That's why. It's been on my agenda for a month. Missing it would mean losing out on a lucrative deal."

“But—” You caught yourself mid-sentence.

At that moment, you wished you could shout that it was your first-ever birthday celebration since your parents’ passing.

His birthday had been just two days prior, and you had gone all out—decorating the apartment, baking a cake, preparing a feast of his favorite dishes, buying him new cufflinks, and giving him the blowjob of the century as the cherry on top. It had become one of your cherished days together, an occasion you had been planning for weeks.

“But?” Nanami prodded.

You clenched your jaw. “But it's... you know. It's.”

“What's going on?” he asked, genuinely befuddled. “Did I miss something?”

Your lips quivered, and in an attempt to silence them, you stuffed a dumpling into your mouth, shaking your head. “Never mind.”

“Please, talk to me.”

Ignoring his plea, you continued shaking your head as he gently pulled at your shoulder to make you face him. Tears welled up in your eyes, streaming down your flushed cheeks. Even swallowing the dumpling felt like a struggle amid the surge of complaints in your throat.

“Darling—”

“Just forget it, Nanami.” You wiped your cheeks, your open hair concealing one side of your face. “You already have,” you whispered to yourself.

“Fine,” Nanami replied, casually returning to his food. It wouldn't have been a big deal if you had just mentioned your birthday, but it stung. He should know. After all, he's Nanami—meticulous with schedules, mindful of important dates, and impeccable with time management. Why doesn't he know?

“Are you joking?” you exclaimed, grabbing the remote from his grasp and turning off the movie. “That's all you have to say? ‘Fine’?”

“You told me to forget about it.”

“Yeah, I did. But that doesn't mean you actually forget.”

“I don't get it.”

“Of course you don't.”

He sighed, and you berated yourself for being so obstinate. You resented that sigh, as it made you feel like a nuisance. Yet, it was a warranted sigh, so you let it slide. “Are you upset?”

“What?”

“You are. I can't believe you're upset.” Running your fingers through your hair, you picked up your plate. “I'm going to bed before I say something stupid. Goodnight. Enjoy your trip.”

“Y/N—”

“Goodnight.”

“My love, what’s bothering you?” he asked from the living room while you dumped your dish in the sink. “Would you please just talk to me? Have I said something to offend you?”

You walked off toward your bedroom, into your bathroom, and locked the door. Turning on the shower, you sat down on the floor, holding your knees and crying in the gap between.

You've been ignoring Nanami ever since you woke up nestled against his chest—your body was naturally attuned to his. But since then, you've been withdrawn and moody, casting a shadow over your usual sunny demeanor. Even some of your regular customers have noticed and asked if you were unwell, but you brushed it off with a forced smile and a minor headache excuse. As you were wiping down tables, Nanami entered during lunchtime. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, then retreated behind the counter, placing his coffee cup and sandwich a bit too forcefully.

“Thank you, darling,” he said, accepting it. “Would you like to join—”

“That'll be ten-fifty,” you interrupted, fingers already inputting the amount without meeting his gaze. You’ve never once charged him since you started dating; everything he desired was on the house because he was your favorite regular and person. You loved him so much that you even experimented in baking his beloved pastries and added them to the menu. Yet, he forgot your birthday.

Nanami retrieved the exact change from his wallet and extended it to you. Your hand snatched it, guilt gnawing at you instantly. Pretending to open the cash register, you discreetly slipped the money into your apron instead.

“Would you like to join me?” he asked once more.

You slammed the cash drawer shut and swiftly turned, heading to the inventory room to immerse yourself in organizing as a distraction.

As Nanami waited outside, thumbs dancing over his phone’s keyboard, you couldn't help but notice his sudden shift in demeanor when you approached. Your mind raced with suspicions of infidelity, but rationality reminded you of his busy schedule now that he wasn't in the office regularly. He was too devoted to you to entertain such thoughts.

Nanami reached out his hand, but you brushed past him, burying your hands in your cardigan. Determined to celebrate your birthday, albeit alone, you headed to the nearest supermarket for groceries. You planned to indulge in your favorite pasta dish, bake fudge brownies, and allow yourself to feel whatever emotions came, whether tears of joy or sadness. Today, you'd celebrate yourself. Happy birthday to you.

Nanami followed you into the supermarket, walking beside you as he added both your and his favorite snacks to the cart. You were determined to make him pay for it all, although you knew he would insist on covering the expenses regardless. Throughout the year you had been together, Nanami never once allowed you to spend your own money. Even during online shopping, he always managed to intercept, distracting you with neck kisses until you surrendered to using his card.

You couldn't help but pout and shoot him a sidelong glance as he meticulously examined the ingredients on a bag of chips. Your gaze then shifted to the cake mix and icing packets, giving you an idea. Bingo.

If you weren't going to outright mention your upcoming birthday, you could at least drop a hint.

Clearing your throat, you grabbed a chocolate-vanilla mix with caramel icing and deposited it into the cart. Nanami observed the entire exchange, briefly meeting your gaze with a neutral expression before returning to scrutinizing the ingredients as though they were sacred text.

Damn him!

“Excuse me, sir?” you called, drawing an innocent elderly employee into your scheme. “It's my friend's birthday tomorrow, and I'm torn between which cake mix to choose. Could you help me out?”

As Nanami switched to a different chip bag, your frustration simmered, but the employee weighed his options, eventually settling on chocolate-vanilla. Grateful, you thanked him and strode away, the cart trailing behind.

Nanami handled the grocery payment and bagging while you observed with arms crossed.

Back at home, you kicked off your shoes, discarded your cardigan on the floor, and trudged wearily to your bedroom. The sounds of the fridge and cabinets being stocked echoed as you sprawled out like a starfish.

“Is he pretending?” you mumbled to yourself. “He must be, right? He couldn't have forgotten my birthday. No way.”

Quickly, you took your phone, dialing Satoru, his assistant. The call forwarded instantly, but his response, received a minute later, left you irritated beyond measure.

Satoru: Sorry, Y/N. Can’t take your call. Packing for a business trip tomorrow. We’re going to Thailand. Will get you a souvenir!

Feeling frustrated, you left him on read and flopped onto your stomach, letting out a scream into the pillow.

Skipping dinner with Nanami, you stayed curled up in bed instead. Despite his attempts to comfort you, kissing your cheeks and tucking you in, you couldn't shake the ache in your heart as you heard him packing in the closet, trying to hide your tears.

It was well past midnight when you finally stirred awake.

Glancing over your shoulder, you found Nanami meters away from you. The realization hit you hard: he had genuinely forgotten your birthday. A mountain settled on your chest as you watched him sleep peacefully, unaware of his oversight. He didn't reach out to hold you close or pull you into his embrace; instead, he slept facing away from you.

You wiped away the tears from your tired eyes, then got up and took your pillows to the living room, hoping to find some sleep on the couch. Instead, you found yourself captivated by the sight of the sunrise.

Meanwhile, Nanami seemed unusually relaxed as he prepared for his business trip, taking his time with his morning routine. He took his time showering, shaving, and ironing his clothes—tasks that you usually handled. He adorned himself with the cuff links you gave him for his birthday and wore the cologne from your six-month anniversary. It stung a bit, realizing how diligent you were in remembering special dates while he seemed to forget them so easily.

But you shrugged it off.

Today was your birthday, and you were determined to make it special, even if you had to celebrate alone. Your customers were already aware that you'd be closed for the day, giving you the entire day and night, plus tomorrow, to yourself. Previous birthdays had been spent in isolation since your parents passed away. This one was supposed to be different because you had Nanami, yet he seemed to overlook its significance.

As you washed your breakfast dishes, disappointment bubbled up inside you, causing you to grip the sponge tightly. Deciding to put off the chore, you washed your hands and turned your attention to baking a cake for yourself.

Nanami sauntered into the kitchen, nonchalantly lugging three hefty suitcases. Why the hell did he need three massive suitcases? Your boyfriend had become a complete mystery to you. You scowled as he tapped away on his phone, the urge to grab it and fling it off the balcony almost irresistible. What luxury could those three suitcases possibly hold? Perhaps new dresses, shoes, or jewelry for whoever was receiving his relentless texts. With his poker-face, it was impossible to tell if it was a woman on the other end.

“Kento.”

Nanami's head jerked up. “Yes, dar—”

“It's my birthday today,” you finally admitted. Enough was enough. You needed him to know and feel miserable for forgetting it while he was on this supposed business trip. You knew it wasn't merely business. He always took you along on such trips. Business trip, my ass. It was clear he was having an affair. “It's my birthday today, Kento.”

His mouth opened to respond, but the ringing phone interrupted him.

You scoffed at the timing of it all, abandoning the cake mixture in the pan. “Have a safe trip.” You walked past him, slamming the bedroom door shut, and collapsed under the covers, sobbing.

Something chimed persistently in the background, prodding at your temples like a sharp stick, urging you to wake up.

You fumbled around on the mattress, locating your vibrating phone and swiping right, still half-asleep.

“Hello?” you croaked out.

“Oh, thank God!” panted Gojo's voice. “There's an emergency with Nanami, Y/N!”

“What?” You shot up in bed, immediately springing into action.

“We were headed to the airport when he suddenly fell ill and started vomiting!” You listened intently as you hurriedly searched through your closet for your cardigan. “I brought him to your bakery since it was closer.” Nanami did have a spare key to your bakery for emergencies. “He's really not doing well, Y/N. Please come as quickly as you can.”

“I'm on my way, Satoru! Thanks for letting me know. I'll be there in a flash. Keep comforting him and try making him some green tea if possible. I can't find anything—Where did all my clothes go?” You shuffled his suits aside and rummaged through your drawers, finding only a few undergarments but nothing else. “Damn it. Alright, I'll be there soon.”

“Of course. See you soon!”

You pushed aside all distractions and focused solely on Nanami, hastily grabbing your bathrobe to cover your shorts and tank top. Rushing to the elevator, you repeatedly pressed the lobby button, feeling your body tremble with anxiety. Your chin quivered as you bit down on your bottom lip, overwhelmed by guilt. Nanami wasn’t prone to sickness as much as you were, but your cold shoulder must’ve given him a cold. The thought made you despise yourself even more, tears streaming down your face as you hurried along the sidewalk, navigating past cyclists and ignoring the curious stares of passersby.

You entered your bakery, the door pushing open with a jingle. “Kento! Ken—”

Your words halted.

The space was decorated with a multitude of lit candles, casting a warm glow over every surface - the counter, tables, chairs, and bare shelves. A three-tiered vanilla chocolate cake adorned with “Happy Birthday Y/N” in elegant script stood proudly on a table. A trail of fresh rose petals led to a solitary chair facing a makeshift projector screen fashioned from a white bed sheet. On the screen, a paused video titled “Life In Her Eyes” awaited.

With cautious steps, you approached the lone chair, scanning the bakery for any signs of activity but finding none. Nervously, you moistened your lips and reached for the small remote with a note reading “Play me,” before settling into the seat.

With a trembling hand, you pressed play on the three-minute video.

“This is my beautiful girlfriend, Y/N,” Nanami's voice narrated in the video, overlaying a scene where you filmed your boyfriend tossing pebbles into the ocean. “She loves to record every single moment we spent together.” The scene shifted to you capturing Nanami's reaction to Alice Vision in Breaking Dawn Part Two. “She loves feeding me if I’m busy working.” A moment captured where you sat on his lap, sharing a pastry and planting a kiss on his cheek. “She loves sunrises and sunsets.” Your camera focused on Nanami's back against the colorful sky. “She insists I hold every stray cat because apparently, an attractive man with a pet drives her wild." Nanami's expression remained composed as he gently stroked the purring white Siamese.

“It’s the truth,” you muttered, using your arm to wipe away the tears and mucus from your runny nose.

“Y/N loves collecting miniature figurines, plush toys, and vintage trinkets.” In a solo vlog, you showcased your latest shopping haul for Nanami, who was in Shibuya for a board meeting. “All. The. Time.” Vlog after vlog, Nanami gathered them all and edited them into snappy clips. “She has a passion for photographing meals and desserts, whether we dine out, order takeout, or cook at home.” The footage captured you filming your dinner plates and soliciting Nanami's ratings as he munched, nodded, and gave you a thumbs up. When he requested the clips, you didn't think much of it. “I haven't met anyone who cherishes life's little joys quite like Y/N.”

The fast-paced snippets capture moments of you brushing dirt off flowers, generously offering cookies to teens studying in your bakery, crafting a necklace from seashells collected at the beach, attempting an ASMR mukbang with Nanami but ending up laughing too much, sharing your collection of hair ribbons, exploring the streets of Malaysia hand-in-hand on your first abroad trip, playfully filming him exercising and flipping the camera to fan yourself and bite your lip, sharing kisses while painting on the living room floor, and him peacefully asleep with his head resting on your chest—

Suddenly, the screen goes black, displaying the title “Life In My Eyes.”

Wiping away tears, you lean forward eagerly, curious about what other scenes he has in store.

Then, your own face fills the screen, bathed in the warm glow of the golden hour, with fluffy summer clouds behind you. Instantly, you recognize the setting: the cliff in Malaysia where you once spent hours talking. But in this clip, your eyes are closed, and you're facing ahead while Nanami captures your profile.

It switched to a different scene of you peacefully asleep against his chest, wrapped in one of his soft cashmere sweaters.

Then, it transitioned to you busy in the kitchen, a smudge of flour on your cheek and strands of hair escaping from your bun.

Next, it showed you tackling household chores, applying makeup, hurrying around declaring, “We're going to be late for the airport,” or shedding tears during the finale of “Happy Feet 2,” or enjoying a quiet moment reading and jotting notes on your balcony.

“Are you recording me?” Suddenly, a clip appeared of you playing with Sumo, a cat you had instantly fallen in love with at the pet adoption center.

“Yes,” Nanami confirmed.

“Pfft. That's my job,” you replied, returning to playing with Sumo. Nanami awkwardly turned the camera around, unable to find the right function to flip screens, and winked.

Then, it shifted to a dimly lit room illuminated solely by flickering candle lights.

It was your bakery.

You appeared on the screen, seated with your back to the camera. You waved an arm, only to realize it was a live feed.

What the . . . ?

Confused, you turned around to locate the camera, but instead found Nanami. On one knee. Holding a red-suede box containing a diamond ring.

You almost tumbled off your chair in disbelief.

Nanami . . . Nanami was proposing to you.

Your boyfriend . . . soon to be your fiancé.

And you couldn't breathe.

Panic threatened to overwhelm you.

But first, you needed to slip that ring onto your finger and shower him with kisses.

Approaching him, you dropped to your knees, gently holding his face in your hands as you kissed him. Tears mingled with your synchronized lips, memories of his touching video playing in your mind. Life, in your eyes, was simply the joys of it. But in his eyes, life was you. You were his reason for living. And he was your heart, keeping you alive.

You pulled back, nodding silently as he slid the ring onto your finger. You noticed his initials on the inner rim, and a sob choked out of you, quickly sealing the moment with a kiss. His arm encircled your waist as he lifted you up, kissing you passionately. It felt like a soldier returning from battle, your body bending back as his smile widened against your lips. Soon, you would be Mrs. Nanami. Holy cow.

“Happy birthday, darling,” Nanami murmured softly as you tried to catch your breath. He gestured with a finger and walked over to the back of the counter. “Close your eyes for me, my love.”

You shut them tightly, wiping away the tears, and sniffled, taking a deep breath.

“Hold out your hands,” Nanami whispered.

You complied.

Something small, soft, and incredibly fuzzy settled onto your palms.

“Mew.”

Your eyes flew open, and there he was. Sumo. It was Sumo, the kitten who had both you and your boyfriend—fiancé—enchanted with his charm. You whined about adopting him once you left the shelter, but Nanami had been practical and kept the idea aside.

“Is he . . . Is he ours?” you asked, gazing into the feline’s sky-blue eyes.

“He's ours,” Nanami replied with a smile.

“He's—Oh my goodness, I'm going to start crying again.” And indeed, you did cry, holding Sumo tightly against your heart, gazing at the radiant diamond ring on your finger, and observing Nanami wipe away a tear from his eye's inner corner. “Kento, we're getting married!”

“I know, my love.” He planted kisses on your forehead, damp cheeks, and lips. “I can’t breathe,” he whispered, stealing another kiss. “You'll soon be my wife.”

“And you'll be my husband.”

“Such a privilege.”

You chuckled, giving him a quick kiss and wrapping your arm around his waist. Resting your head on his chest, you both admired Sumo staring wide-eyed at his parents. “I don't think I've cried this much since . . . ” You sealed the mention of your parents’ passing with a sigh.

“I broke your heart with my plan,” he rasped out. “And I apologize sincerely for it. Satoru assured me it was foolproof, and regrettably, I trusted his judgment.”

It was no surprise it was his assistant.

“Where is he, by the way?”

“Parked down the block,” Nanami replied, lifting Sumo with his large hands to place him in his carrier. “I've already packed our bags for a trip. I'm taking you to Italy.”

“Huh?”

Nanami was nonchalant as he tidied up around the bakery, extinguishing the candles. “It's just for the weekend. I've spent the past week crafting an itinerary with all your favorite spots and restaurants to visit. You'll love the hotel we're staying at.”

You were about to bombard him with a barrage of questions, but instead, you couldn't help but smile.This was Nanami, after all. He had a knack for surprising you. One minute he'd be showering you with affection, the next he'd be whisking you away to Dubai for a vacation. One minute he'd forget your birthday, and the next he'd be proposing on one knee, presenting you with the cat you'd always wanted and whisking you off to your dream destination.

“—and there's this café that sells the most delicious macaroons—”

You interrupted him by pulling him close, planting a kiss on his lips, and wrapping your arms around him. Nanami eagerly responded, one hand resting on the small of your back and the other cradling the back of your head. When you finally broke apart, breathless, you looked into his hazel eyes and said, “Let's take our time, play with Sumo, and enjoy the cake you baked.”

“How did you know I baked it?”

You shrugged. “Baker's intuition.”

Nanami embraced you, resting his chin on your head. He took a deep breath as if replenishing his oxygen supply. His fingers gently ran through your hair, soothingly rubbing your back. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered as though it were a fleeting thought.

You nuzzled closer to his chest. “I love you too, Kento.”

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f1gments · 2 years

Text

DETOUR - HAYAKAWA AKI |早川アキ (M)

You and Aki are supposed to be on your way back from a mission, but the rain that’s been pouring non-stop has Aki pulling over to the side of an empty road for safety precautions. It doesn’t look like it’s stopping any sooner, so what better way to spend that time than to have sweaty, breathy, messy sex in the back seat?

MINORS DNI

Pairing: aki x fem!bodied reader

word count: 8.0k

R18, making out, smut, car sex, protected sex, semi-public sex, handjob, oral sex (towards Aki), vaginal fingering, nipple licking, cowgirl position, missionary, vaginal sex, teasing & dirty talk, softdom aki (?), boyfriend aki

he smokes for a little bit. also calls you baby a few times.

authors note: car sex fic among my list of wips that i’ve been wanting to put out for ages, so ya’ll can thank the amount of horny i had in order to push through with this fic lol. also big thank you to my darling @meownotgood for beta reading and revising! and also adding fuel to the aki horny. i give you big kith <3 <3

18+ explicit content ahead. please for the love of god DO NOT interact if you’re a minor.

Aki exhales a long, defeated sigh from the driver’s seat.

“It looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while.” he says, switching the car engine off.

It's been pouring non-stop from the moment you left the city, but the rain has only grown heavier, to the point where it's difficult to see the road — or anything, for that matter. All you can make out through the droplet-soaked windows are the elusive silhouettes of houses and the blurred lights from the street lamps. The sky is gloomy and dark, puffy gray clouds obscure the sun.

The two of you were supposed to be on your way back to headquarters after completing a mission Makima had sent you on. According to file reports and a call she received, the Rat Devil was going around terrorizing citizens in a small district on the far outskirts of Tokyo.

The mission itself was simple: kill the Rat Devil and report back to Makima upon confirmation of its extermination. By the time you and Aki arrived, almost half the neighborhood was killed — or rather, eaten, so there wasn't any need for search and rescue. The devil was dealt with rather easily. You and Aki would have been at headquarters and done with all of this by now, if it wasn't for the sudden rainstorm interrupting that plan.

So, here you are, parked at the side of an empty road with Aki, biding your time until the rain stops.

You're a little bored, sure, but this isn't all bad. It feels good to relax a bit before you have to go back to headquarters; you can already see the giant stack of paperwork waiting for you.

You hum as you shrug off your coat, before leaning your head against the headrest. You stare out the foggy window; there's a couple of houses up ahead that you can see from where you're parked, and beside them is a small playground. The whole neighborhood looks empty, as expected. You don’t think any kids will be coming out to play in this weather.

The sound of the rain echoes a rhythmic pitter patter against the roof of the car. It's soothing, like it could lull you to sleep. You allow your tired eyes to close, and you almost drift off, but in a few moments, the sudden realization of being stuck in the rain, all alone somewhere secluded with your boyfriend begins to form an idea inside your head.

It's not the best idea to be thinking of right now, sure. But considering it's been raining non-stop for ages now, and considering you need some way to pass the time, you wouldn't exactly say it's the worst thing you could come up with.

You're just not sure about getting Aki to agree to it. You can already hear his response in your head: Really? You want to have sex right now? That's… We can't. Just wait until we get home.

You've been dating Aki for an entire year now, and sex isn’t exactly new to you anymore, since you both gave each other your firsts on the fifth month of being together. But even now, Aki still blushes whenever you undress in front of him, or when you ask if you can suck him off during foreplay.

He always tells you that you don't have to do anything for him, because he feels good just by watching you come undone on his fingers, his mouth giving you soft kisses on your clit while his tongue gives you long licks until your toes are curling as you cum. He's still the same as when you first met him, too shy to make the first move, and so dedicated to your own pleasure that he forgets about his own.

And you know he's definitely too embarrassed to consider having sex in a place like this. You've never done anything remotely intimate with him in any place besides the bedroom. Hell, sometimes he's too embarrassed just to kiss you in public.

You think you have an idea to convince him, though.

You turn to look at Aki, who has one hand resting on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping a random beat against it. He rests his chin in the palm of his other hand, elbow on the side panel of the door. The rain continues to fall, drumming against the rooftop, as though it’s trying to flood the empty streets outside, to wash off all that is unjust and evil.

Aki fidgets in the driver's seat for a moment, before you watch him pull out his pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his pants. He lights one up with the baby blue lighter you always see him use, and then he twists the key in the ignition, putting it in accessory mode so only the lights and radio turn on.

He rolls the window down enough for him to flick the ashes out of it, making the petrichor invade your nose for a few moments. The rich, familiar smell of smoke he exhales replaces it, the wind drifts the scent towards you, along with the faint warm and woody cologne that emanates from him.

You gaze at his handsome features in awe, admiring his side profile; the dull luminescence overcasting a shadow on his angular jawline and high cheekbones, eyes of welded iron and a gaze just as hard — Eyes that have seen more than anyone could possibly imagine in one lifetime. An upper lip that protrudes a little further than the lower, and cheeks of dusty pink; they soften his expression, and his demeanor of steel.

You shake your head before you end up getting lost in your thoughts any further. You inhale deeply, breathing in the remainder of smoke, and the gentle scent of the cologne clinging to his clothes once again.

“Hey, Aki…”

His attention goes to you the second he hears your voice, deep blue eyes scanning your gentle features and your unreadable expression. He notices that you've taken your coat off.

“Hmm, what’s wrong?” Aki replies softly. “Are you feeling warm? I can turn the air conditioning on for a bit if you’d like.” He reaches for the air conditioning valve on the dashboard, but you grab his hand to stop him, shaking your head.

“I’m fine. It’s something else.” You peer up at him through your lashes. His hand is warm.

“What is it?” There’s a look of genuine concern apparent on his face as Aki puts out the cigarette in the portable ashtray he carries in his jacket. He scans all the parts of your body he can see — your arms, your hands, your neck, your shoulders, trying to see if there's any injuries, worried that you might have gotten hurt from the mission earlier.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head again with a chuckle, and you grab both of his hands, squeezing them tightly. “No, Aki. I told you, I’m fine. It’s just that...”

You can't help but trail off; feeling a little embarrassed, you start to fiddle with his fingers, averting your eyes.

“Spit it out already." Aki sighs impatiently, making you chuckle again.

“So impatient.” you answer, smirking, to which Aki gives you an unamused blank stare.

“I was thinking we could do something fun to pass the time."

Aki raises an eyebrow. “Like what?”

You lean in closer, and since the space between you and him in the car isn’t very big to begin with, your lips are already inches away from his.

You cup his chin between your finger and your thumb and whisper, “Like this…”

At once, you've closed the distance, and your lips press softly to his. Aki's eyes widen, but soon, he's relaxing into the kiss, his shoulders slumping, his eyes fluttering shut. The smell of you consumes his senses: vanilla and lavender, utterly intoxicating.

When the kiss deepens, he can taste the faint flavor of your lip gloss: cherry and mint. He kisses your lips over and over again like he can't get enough, soft but hungry at the same time.

You move to climb on top of him, and Aki adjusts himself, leaning back in his seat to give you enough space to straddle him comfortably. Your tongue presses to his; you kiss languidly and deeply, taking time to explore each other’s mouths. Your lips feel so good against his own, so perfect. They're fogging up his mind, like you're demanding him to forget everything except for you — and it’s working.

Your hands grip tightly onto his shirt as Aki skims his fingers down your shoulders and across your sides, resting them onto the curve of your waist. Right now, neither of you are thinking about getting back as soon as possible, or your lives, or anything like stupid devils and more missions. It’s just the both of you focusing on each other, and Aki’s mind is consumed only by thoughts of how good you make him feel.

You both pull away breathlessly, foreheads resting against one another. Still catching your breath, you roll your hips into Aki's lap hesitantly, testing the waters. Aki groans, but he gives your waist a firm squeeze, stopping you from continuing.

“We… we can’t. Not here." Aki looks at you through heavy eyelids. “Someone might see us.”

You slide backwards a little on his lap as much as the small space will allow, until you feel the steering wheel press into your back. Your hand slowly travels up his thigh, fingers playing with the zipper of his pants.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to be quick then.” You flash him a grin, but Aki stares back with an unamused expression. You reach up, toying with the earring on his lobe, resisting the urge to pinch his cheek. “Come on Aki, we haven’t seen another car for three hours. I doubt anyone’s going to see us in this rain.”

Aki doesn't respond, so you take matters into your own hands: in a few seconds, you've grasped the button on his slacks and popped it open. You're tugging the zipper down, relieving some of the pressure when you hear Aki inhale sharply, his eyebrows furrowed, but he doesn't make an attempt to push you away.

“Stop that.”

His voice is weak, it's shaky, it lacks the bite you normally hear out of him when you're at work. And even though he's telling you to stop, Aki's body betrays him. You can feel the bulge that's forming underneath his slacks, you notice how he lifts his hips a little to make it easier for you to tug his pants down. Your smirk grows wider.

“Do you really want me to stop?” you hum, moving closer to whisper into his ear.

“Baby-” Aki quips sharply, almost like a warning, but you continue your ministrations; you rub where the hem of his briefs meets his stomach with your thumbs, you kiss him softly behind his ear.

“Don’t you want me too?” You pull back to meet his eyes, and you tilt your head to the side, your lips pulling up into a coy smile. Aki's heart skips a beat at the sight.

Aki swallows thickly. “I…”

It’s not that he doesn’t want you. It's just that he'd much rather have you somewhere more comfortable, more familiar. When he's looking at you like he is now, his head spins with the thought of driving you home, tossing the door open only to carry you to his bedroom and pin you to the bed. He imagines your hands gripping the sheets, your voice calling his name with his head buried between your legs, his lips on your clit and his mouth on your pussy.

No, he definitely wants you, and he can't deny it, he can't stop thinking about it now that you've got him started.

Before Aki can give you a reply, you lean into his neck, giving him a few soft, teasing kisses on his warm skin, before you pull back and look at him again with the same imploring smile.

Aki sighs, half in annoyance, half in submission. You can see the affection behind his eyes when he looks at you; deep down, he’s a pile of mush, unbelievably endeared to you. He’s helpless when you ask for things out of the blue like this, especially when you give him such a pleading look with those doe-like eyes.

Aki takes in a long, steady breath before he asks, “Are you sure you want to do this here? Wouldn’t it be better if we wait until we get home?”

“I’m sure. Besides,” You nod softly, smiling, “Don’t you think it’s a little exciting to fuck me in the car?”

Oh, Aki thinks it’s very exciting. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, he gets a certain rush just by imagining it, it's a kind of feeling he's never felt before. His dick throbs in his briefs when he thinks of fucking you in the backseat of the company car, and in public, no less.

Part of him is still nervous — What if you both make a mess, what if someone catches you? But another part of him wants to chase that rush, he wants to have you right here, and right now.

He tries to temper the fog in his head, focusing on the feeling of you against him. It's difficult when his heart is thumping loud in his eardrums, and when his core is thrumming with anticipation and need.

“I need you, Aki.”

Sometimes, he swears you can read his mind.

“I need you too.” he replies, and you don’t miss the faint pink color dusted on his cheekbones. Aki swallows, and he takes a deep breath to steady himself. “Just this once. We'll do this just this once, got it?”

Aki motions his head over to the back seat, and you take the hint, quickly climbing into it. He follows suit shortly after, and everything is a blur of clothes coming off and hungry, heated and sloppy kisses. You're left in just your underwear, and Aki is left in just his loose work slacks.

You can feel the familiar rush of white hot want course through your veins.You’re sure Aki feels the same way because in between kisses, when your hand goes back to stroking the tent in his pants, he seems to have only gotten harder. You give him one last firm squeeze, pulling away to position yourself on your knees in front of him.

It's a tight fit; the company cars are spacious, but you're still crammed in between him and the back of the front seat, it leaves you to rest your head on his legs and press your chest to his knees.

“What… what are you doing?” Aki stutters nervously, squirming a little in his seat when you reach for his slacks. You tug them down his legs the rest of the way until they're pooled at his ankles.

“Making you feel good.”

Your fingers feel warm on his skin when you push them under the waistband of his briefs. You help him out of them, his length bounces up to tap his stomach when you tug them all the way down. The sensitive, pink head tingles when it brushes against his skin, causing Aki’s entire frame to shudder with need.

You waste no time gripping the base of his cock and spitting on the leaking tip, stroking him slowly. Aki spreads his legs a little wider for you as your palm swipes the tip, getting his length wet with your saliva and his precum; the sensation has him moaning in pleasure.

Barely squeezing, you slowly move your hand up and down the shaft, you snicker a little when you hear him whimper slightly. You pump his cock lazily, and Aki reaches down, grabbing your arm to steady himself, thrusting his hips up into your hand, searching for more.

And you give it to him; Aki’s head falls back against the headrest with a thud, and he grunts as you start to stroke him faster. “Feels… so good.”

“More?” you ask, your voice husky. Aki nods feverishly in response.

“God, yes. Please. Don't stop, don't stop...”

The slick noises filling the car and the sound of Aki's desperate begs add on to the growing ache between your legs, they mix with the echo of the rain tapping the roof of the car and the windshield. He mutters a strained fuck when you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and bring it to your warm tongue, giving the tip a tentative lick.

“S-Shit…” Aki hisses, his breathing unsteady, “That's it… Keep going.”

At first, you start by just trailing kisses down his tip to the underside of his cock, and Aki shivers at the faint sensation. When you trail back up, starting to take him into your mouth, you feel his palm lay softly on the back of your head, and then his fingers knot themselves into your hair, gripping tightly, holding the loose strands away from your face in a makeshift ponytail.

Aki watches you with his jaw slack, he quietly moans your name when your cheeks hollow, your head bobbing up and down his cock at a languid pace.

Aki grips your hair a little tighter. His eyes meet yours, his gaze is heavy with lust and with love. “So good, you're doing such a good job.”

With your saliva involved, every time you suck on his cock with your lips closed, there's a nasty, loud squelch — It reminds him that this is happening right here, that you're sucking Aki's cock in the backseat. He's in so much bliss he's hardly thinking about it, he can only focus on the feeling of your tongue swirling around his dick, of your warm mouth and the tip of his cock slightly touching the back of your throat when he bucks his hips up.

He rubs the back of your head gently, his eyelashes flutter when he looks at you.

“Your lips… They're so pretty.” Aki tells you, and you pull away from his cock with a loud pop.

“Yeah?” A teasing smile forms on your lips. “And you have a pretty dick.”

Aki's cheeks instantly blossom with color, petals of dusty rose scattering across his handsome features. His pupils blow out deep, dark and wide. You've always thought Aki has the most beautiful pair of eyes, they're like a door to his soul. Pools of deep dark blue that you could drown inside if you weren’t so busy sucking the life out of him in the back of the sleek company sedan.

You watch Aki draw his bottom lip between his teeth, hesitating, before finally, he gently pushes down on the back of your head, with so little force you almost don't feel it.

“C’mon… keep going for me, just a little bit, please. Can you do that?" His voice cracks slightly, his tone high-pitched. You smile, nodding obediently, and you move back down to wrap your warm lips around him once again.

“Mhmm.” The hum of your voice sends vibrations over Aki's cock, causing him to inhale a sharp breath through his teeth. You look up at him one last time, batting your eyelashes before sinking your mouth down on him completely, taking him all the way down your throat. Tears well at the corners of your eyes, and you shut them tight to will them away.

Aki cries out, his thighs shaking. He stammers, “S-Shit, baby, too much, slow down...”

He's trying his hardest not to thrust himself into your mouth. His eyes almost roll into the back of his head when he feels the tip of his cock brush the back of your throat again, and he clumsily pushes your hair behind your ears as you suck eagerly on his cock.

It's so overwhelming, it's so much, it's more than he thinks he can take when one of your hands reaches up to grip the base of his cock, stroking in tune with your mouth, while the other massages his thigh, willing his legs to spread even further apart. But it feels so fucking good, Aki can't help but melt into you.

“God,” he groans through heavy pants, “You take me so well, p-please, don't stop.”

The way your hand glides up and down his cock along with your mouth is making Aki forget how to think straight. He feels dizzy, he knows he's getting close to the edge, and if he lets you keep going, he's sure he won't be able to stop himself from cumming. He grabs your wrist firmly — a silent demand to halt your actions — and he catches his breath.

In compliance, you freeze, and Aki slips his hand up to hold the side of your face, to cup your cheek and slowly coax you up while he leans down.

“C'mere.”

He pulls you into a fervent kiss, you press your palm to his chest and push him back into the seat until you can straddle his thighs and settle into his lap.

Aki can taste himself on your tongue; it makes him feel high, but as you lift your hips, grinding your clothed cunt against his length, getting your underwear soaked and filthy and making Aki moan into your mouth, he suddenly stops you. He reaches down, he grabs your waist and causes you to freeze, pulling away from his lips, a confused expression on your face.

No, no more. He needs you right now.

“I… I want to cum with you.” Aki admits, breathing hard, “I need to be inside you when I cum.”

You nod with a gentle smile. “Okay. Of course.”

You follow Aki's lead when he brings his palm to the small of your back, guiding you to twist and lay down in the backseat. The space is cramped, your head is propped up on the door, Aki has to slot his knee between your legs to make room for himself. The tight space makes it feel like he's even closer.

Condensation has formed on the inside of the windows from the heat of your bodies. Aki cranes down to meet your neck. Your breath hitches at the first touch of his lips on your skin, right on your nape, and then down, his open mouth wet and warm on the flesh below your collarbone.

“I’m gonna take your underwear off, okay?” he whispers softly without pulling away. You nod, and you lift your hips up slightly to allow him to pull down your lacy underwear. He tosses them to the side while he continues to leave gentle kisses on your chest.

“Spread your legs open for me.” His words are like warm honey, sweet and dizzying when they drip from his lips to meet your ears.

You obey, spreading your legs eagerly, as wide as the small space in the backseat will allow. Aki’s eyes grow dark with lust when he pulls back and sees your pretty pussy glistening in the low light, soaking wet for him — like a blooming flower, filled with sweet, sticky nectar.

He grazes his fingers up your dripping slit, he sighs the moment he feels your slick drip out onto the digits.

“God, you're so wet,” he croaks out, slightly breathless. His head dips, bangs hiding his face, and he tries to compose himself. “I'm gonna put one in.”

Then, Aki is slowly pressing a finger into your tight walls, sinking it in all the way and curling it into your core, causing you to whine and arch your back, your chest pressing up towards him. You wrap one arm around his shoulders, and you grip his arm with the other, your hips bucking up as another finger teases your entrance before sinking deep inside.

Your mouth falls open, your brows pinch. Aki kisses your forehead, he tugs you closer and leans down to brush his lips over your neck.

“Feels good,” you whine, and Aki delicately rubs your clit with his thumb, sighing when he feels your walls clamp around his fingers.

“Yeah?” He kisses your neck messily, curling his fingers into you deliciously.

“I’m close, I'm close-”

Your thighs close around his arm, and Aki slows his pace for just a moment.

He asks, “Do you want me to stop?”

Immediately, you shake your head, you plead for him to continue. Aki kisses your neck once more before he brings his lips to your ear, he presses his fingers into your sweet spot while toying with your clit, whispering honeyed words into your ear.

You're so pretty, you gonna cum for me? Go ahead and cum, baby, I've got you.

You tip over the edge just as he eases a third finger into you. You chant his name, your thighs shake and he drags his soaked fingers out to messily rub your clit through your orgasm with quick flicks of his wrist.

Aki kisses you as you come down; it's like time is frozen, like it's just you and him stuck in this moment. Your lips melded to his while you breathe life into him, yet at the same time, take his breath away with each kiss you give to his lips. He only pulls away to catch his breath and briefly bring his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean.

“Hold on,” Aki reaches down onto the floor, searching for his pants. When he finds them, he fishes his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out a silver condom packet.

“What?” You prop yourself up on your elbows, eyeing him up and down. “Since when have you started carrying those around?”

Aki replies matter-of-factly, “Since we started dating.”

You smirk. “We have plenty of those at your house, you know. Thought you didn't want to have sex in public.”

“Oh, please,” Aki rolls his eyes, “I wasn't counting on using them for something like this. It's just… better to be prepared.”

It's not a complete lie, although, Aki can't deny he was thinking of the two of you getting caught in something spontaneous when he first slipped the condom into his wallet. He definitely didn't imagine this would be the place he'd end up using it, though.

You reach up, plucking the condom packet from his fingers, and Aki glances up towards the driver's seat. The sky seems even darker than before, and the rain is still pouring down, battering the glass and obscuring the view. The windows of the car are slightly tinted, and with this storm, there's still no-one to be found.

You tear open the condom wrapper, and you're sliding the lubricated latex down his hardened cock when Aki turns to look at you again. He settles his much larger hand over your own, he helps you tug the condom snugly on his length.

“So...” Aki starts, and you look up to meet his eyes. “You were planning on doing this without protection?”

He's so perceptive, you can't help but laugh. “Maybe. You're right, though. It's better to be safe.”

Aki's eyes narrow. His expression seems unamused, but the more he thinks about it, the more he considers what that would entail — fucking you raw, the deeper his cheeks redden. Perhaps he should have gone with what you wanted.

“Hey,” Your voice rouses him from his thoughts, “Sit back for me.”

As he leans back, settling into the seat, you climb into his lap to straddle him again, pressing your lips to his. Your palms roam up and down his chest, fingertips tracing the scars littered across his toned body.

His tongue snakes against yours, he kisses you deeply. Your teeth nip at his bottom lip before you detach and kiss his chin, then the edge of his jaw, trailing kisses down his to his neck where you suck beautiful fields of lilac and dusty pink into his pale skin. Aki gasps; his hands drift down your waist, the shape of your hips, and the arch of your back until they begin to knead the soft flesh of your ass.

You can't wait any longer; you raise your hips and grip the base of his cock, running the tip over your wet folds. Aki looks down, he watches, he bites down on his lower lip. Then, he meets your gaze, his eyes glazed over, his expression pleading.

Finally, you align his throbbing cock to your entrance, bringing yourself down halfway, slowly. You feel the fat tip of his cock enter you, you feel it stretch you out. Aki throws his head back, his eyes closed. He already feels like he could cum, just from this. Just from being halfway inside you.

“Shit,” he mumbles, “God, that feels so good, fuck, baby-”

You're both panting, and you've barely even taken him.

Aki cracks his eyes open to watch you sink down on his cock, the length slowly disappearing inside you. He sucks a hiss between his gritted teeth when you settle on him all the way, taking all of him in. Your heart is pounding wildly against your ribcage, your head is starting to spin.

“Too deep?” Aki asks between pants, and you shake your head. A few moments go by, you listen to the rhythmic drum of rain, Aki rubs soothing circles on your back and gives you a minute to adjust.

It feels so good to finally be inside you. Aki breathes in deeply, he groans when your hips shift. You take another few moments to compose yourself before you lift your hips a little, only to immediately drop back down on his cock, causing a low fuck to escape from his lips.

You start bouncing up and down his length, and he leans forward, latching his mouth onto your nipple. His hand gently kneads your other breast. You moan softly, hands reaching up to tug his messy hair out of his topknot, until your fingers can run through the strands and your nails can drag across his scalp, making him grunt and his spine tingle.

“You like that, baby?” you coo, and Aki hums in approval, sending vibrations over your breast. His eyebrows are knitted together, his eyelids are fluttered shut.

He swirls his tongue around your nipple and kisses your breast before pulling away. Your pace is getting a little faster, a little harder. The car is filled with the sound of skin slapping skin as you ride him, and the needy whines and moans coming from both you and him.

“I love it, love it so much,” Aki sighs, “S-So wet and tight for me.”

You grind your pelvis into his, and he grips your waist to help you along. You start to feel Aki raising his hips up from the seat. Ever so slightly, at first, just trying to feel you a little deeper. And then, desperately — he's matching your rhythm and rutting up into you, fucking you as you ride him with needy whines and fragile gasps.

His expression already looks so fucked-out: his pupils blown, his lips parted, hair down and messy to frame his face. He's practically drooling.

“That’s it, baby,” you purr as Aki thrusts up into you again, moaning from the pleasure. “Show me how much you like it.”

“Ngh — fuck.” Your words only seem to spur him on more. Aki digs his nails a little harder into your hips, he shakes his head to get his messy bangs out of his eyes.

“Oh, yes.” you moan, gripping his broad shoulders to steady yourself, “Right there, please, right there-”

Sweat drips from his forehead, droplets cascade down his chest. He's fucking right into your sweet spot, to the point where you hardly have to move, you just let him thrust into you. Your ass is slapping against his thighs. Aki kisses your cheek before grasping your chin between his fingers and pulling your mouth onto his.

The kiss is a wild clash of tongue and teeth, but you break away almost as soon as it begins, crying out when Aki buries himself into you hard. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, gasping over and over again in pleasure.

Suddenly, Aki's pace starts to slow, he's holding you still and trying to catch his breath. His thighs are twitching, and his heart is pounding, it's so loud he can hear it in his ears.

“Not… not gonna last much longer like this,” he mumbles, and you sit up to meet his eyes. There's an earnest, loving expression in the back of his gaze when he asks, “Can we change positions?”

You don't answer, still catching your breath, but you nod your head. Aki rubs your hips, he lifts you and pulls out of you slowly, he kisses your jaw and your throat. You feel his arm curl around the small of your back, and he gently maneuvers your body until you're under him, your back laying flat against the seat. The leather is cool and smooth on your skin.

Aki takes in the sight of you for a few moments, his eyes scanning your form. He admires the way you're splayed out beneath him; so beautiful, so angelic, as you always are. This time, though, it's a little different. It's a bit different to see you here, to have you in a place like this. It somehow manages to be exciting, but just as intimate as when he has you in his bedroom at the same time.

He can't hold back from telling you in a sweet voice, “You're beautiful. So beautiful.”

He closes his eyes, he listens to the drum of the rain for a second. Then, he grabs your waist, squeezing it carefully to let you know he's continuing, before lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance.

Aki is incredibly gentle when he enters you again, like he’s handling glass, easing inside of you slowly. But once he's halfway in, everything is so hot and wet and tight that he's nearly on the verge of losing control, he has to resist the urge to just fuck you senseless.

He exhales a shaky breath, you watch as his eyebrows furrow and God, it's so good, he's about to bottom out and it's such a snug, tight fit but it's just so right. All you can do is wiggle your hips and sigh feebly under the pressure, with Aki's forehead pressed to yours as he fills you.

He places one of his hands on your side, while the other grips your leg from where it's falling off the edge of the seat. He tosses it over his shoulder, he buries himself into the hilt.

“So good, Aki...” you gasp, your voice breathless, desperate. Aki leans down; his tongue flicks over your earlobe, he takes it between his teeth and sucks. His palms roam your body, gliding over your stomach and your sides. He kisses the shell of your ear, his warm breath fans out over it.

“God, please.” Your head tosses back, and you're begging for him to give you more, only for Aki to ignore your pleading.

Your arms wrap around his neck, and he kisses down your jaw, your neck, your shoulders. His lips reach your breast, he gazes fondly at the pretty shade of your skin before brushing his lips over your nipple. He licks it with the flat length of his tongue while he reaches down, bringing a free hand between your legs to rub soft circles over your clit with his thumb. You feel a wave of bliss twist up your spine, your cunt tightens around Aki's thick cock and his whole body shudders.

A shaky moan comes with your next words: “Aki… stop teasing. Please.”

You wiggle your hips, you whine and grip his shoulders tightly as he continues to kiss and suck on your breast, humming softly.

“Need you to fuck me, now, please, Aki?”

A ghost of a smile forms across Aki's face. He pulls away from your chest with a quiet pop, glancing up to meet your gaze. He mumbles, “You sound so cute… you want me to move, right?”

He rewards you with the slightest thrust of his hips, rutting himself into you, just a little bit. It's enough to make you gasp, to make you grip him tighter and tangle your fingers in his hair.

He knows you want him to move, he just wants to hear you say it.

Face warm and with your eyes screwed shut, you murmur his name senselessly, over and over again like a prayer, a plea. You mutter please, please, please again and again as Aki's lips ghost over yours, and then press to the side of your throat, where he kisses and lightly nibbles, leaving impressions of his teeth.

He tries to hold out, he tries to tease you as much as he can, only moving slightly, just enjoying the feeling of being buried deep inside you and the sound of your pretty voice. But it's hard to resist you, especially when you're begging for him. He longs to give you everything you ask for.

“Alright,” he murmurs, voice soft and gentle, “Since you asked so nicely, I’ll give you what you want.”

Aki rests his head on your shoulder, and as he presses wet, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbones, he quickens his pace, thrusting into you with deep, languid rolls of his hips. He reaches for your hands, pinning them above your head and threads his fingers with your own, holding them tightly.

He pulls back and meets your eyes; your gaze flickers over his and you watch his brows furrow from the building pleasure. Then, Aki leans in, all the way until he's kissing you and his tongue is slipping past your lips.

He begins to drill himself in fast, thrusting himself eagerly into you with long, deep strokes. The small space of the backseat causes his body to press up close to yours, and the perked buds of your nipples graze against his chest with every abrupt movement. Aki screws his eyes tightly shut, he lets go of your hands to hold the sides of your face as he kisses you. He focuses on the way your nails rake over his back.

He kisses you leisurely, deliberately, as if he's trying to capture every inch of your sweet taste on the tip of his tongue. You whimper into his mouth; his cock is hitting the spot that always makes you melt, it's causing you to arch your back into him. His tempo doesn't slow, nor does it falter. He continues to pound into you, hitting that perfect spot and causing all your nerves to light up when his pelvis grinds into your swollen clit with each of his thrusts.

His hand steadies on the curve of your hip, he keeps the connection between your mouth and his as his palm trails lower, further downwards until it reaches the warmth of your cunt. You're soaked with both of your desires, your clit feels slick on his fingertips when he toys with it.

You grip him tightly, clutching onto him as if your bearings have been thrown and he is the only thing in this world that can keep you grounded — a solid rock amongst the heavy waves. You find sanity in the taste of his tongue, and stability in your hands grasping at his shoulder blades. He's close, so close.

He pulls away from your mouth, his warm breath mixes with yours, and you immediately gasp, “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

Aki responds with a deep groan, his voice husky. “I won’t baby, I’ll give it to you as much as you want.”

He leans down, kissing the tip of your nose. And then, his tongue presses to your neck, he licks a long stripe up your skin, eliciting a stuttered whimper from your lips. Aki leans his head on your shoulder, he sighs into your nape. It's so cute, it's so sexy that you want him so badly. You're begging desperately under him, when moments earlier you were the one teasing him, like the little minx you always are.

You're always like this. You can tease him as much as you'd like, but he knows how much you need him. That's why you had him fuck you here, without being patient enough to wait for the two of you to get home.

The rain is just as steady as it was when you began. It overpowers the echo of Aki's skin hitting yours, it's a quiet sort of lull that soothes you the moment the sound fills your ears. Everything feels slow, warm and sleepy and tinged with electricity. Is this how things always were with him?

You reach for his face, you cup his cheeks and get him to look into your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too, I love you so much.” Aki responds immediately, breathlessly, and he slows down the rhythm of his thrusts.

In this beautiful instance of time, nothing matters, absolutely nothing but you.

You take him into your broad oceans of adoration, care, and unadulterated love. You sweep him out into your calm oceans and away from the rocky shores which expose the jagged edges of his past, a life already lived, that still manages to cut at his bones, that still digs deep into his sanity and claws at the worst of him.

Right now, you look heavenly, your hair splayed out onto the dark, leather seats, the warm light reflecting off your skin. Aki marvels at your beauty; the way the overcast lighting and shadows from outside cast over you makes you glow as if you're a piece of the moon itself, dislodged and sent down to earth to bring the brightest of lights into his life. An ethereal being for him to love and adore, who he's lucky enough to have all for himself.

Slowly, he works back to his previous pace, but his eyes never leave your form, he never stops gazing at you with such adoration and love. Your heart flutters ceaselessly inside of your chest.

Honestly, Aki is so turned on he's starting to lose control of himself. The mere sight of you underneath him, in the backseat of the company’s car, in the middle of an empty street — it’s something Aki couldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams. And yet, it feels so lovely to have you here, so perfect, he just can't get enough.

The simmering pressure that's been building up in him, deep and potent, begins to rapidly pool in his core to the point where Aki is sure he won't be able to hold back for much longer. The coil in his stomach is tightening, winding and threatening to snap. His bottom lip is bitten to hell and back, and his parched throat murmurs your name with a harsh sense of yearning.

Aki looks down at you with a hooded gaze, but he ceases to break eye contact with you. His forearms support his weight on either side of your body as he continues to thrust in and out, following the rhythm that always makes you come undone for him.

Pleasure consumes him, it consumes you, you're joined in the most intimate way two people could become one. The act is sinful, but it's coated in the deep bond the both of you share, it's intertwined with pure love and utter devotion.

“A-Aki,” You sound like you’re on the verge of tears, babbling as you beg, “I can’t, I have to… Aki, please, I-”

You interrupt yourself with a loud cry, tossing your head back as you immerse yourself in the very peak of your euphoria.

“Yeah?” Aki gasps back, fucking you deeply, perfectly, in the way that always brings you to the edge for him.

“Let go, sweetheart.” He's barely breathing the words, he grasps your chin and stares into your eyes. His thumb brushes over your lower lip. “Come for me – Come all over me.”

It’s impossible to say no. Not when his voice is so soft and convincing, so enticing. Not when he's fucking you this good, bringing you to heaven with every deep roll of his hips.

You can barely hear the rain outside anymore. The only thing you can focus on is the pleasure, the only sound filling your ears is the echo of Aki's heavy breaths and his desperate moans. You want to drown in this feeling forever, you want Aki's sweet words to melt into your skin, to brand you with his mark.

The whole car is shaking from the weight of Aki's thrusts as he fucks you into the seat. You're right on the edge, and one more deep thrust throws you over; your thighs shudder, you let go with a scream of his name. Aki works you through your bliss, drawing out your pleasure until the feeling of your walls clamping around his cock has him meeting his end along with you.

He groans your name, his head drops to your shoulder and his eyes screw shut. His thrusts grow erratic, clumsy, he mutters a mix of yes, and, I love you. He spills a warm load inside the condom as your walls throb around him, milking him for everything he has.

The white fades eventually, like lamplight dimming behind a shade. Your vision is hazy, the both of you are a sweaty mess in the backseat, and when you breathe in, it’s all musky and good and sweet, just the scent of sex and the feeling of Aki's body pressed closely to yours, his arms wrapped loosely around you.

After a few moments, Aki pulls out of you, and he pulls you close to him so you're huddled up to him. His heart is beating loudly in his chest, and you can feel it against yours. You breathe in and out, deeply, trying to steady your breathing. Aki does the same. Your hearts sync up to the same steady rhythm.

The afterglow begins to settle into Aki’s bones. His mind is a complete haze of pleasure, and the only thing on his mind is you, you, you. He sits up a little, and he turns to look at you, only to find that you're already staring back up at him with adoration in your eyes.

Aki stares into them for what feels like an eternity, stretches of time that must only be mere seconds, but feel like they've continued on for decades, horizons far beyond this unfairly short lifetime. Your gaze is his solace, his home. He knows he's too far gone.

When he says those three words again, it feels greater than the first time, more than the second. As if with every new time he confesses his love to you, the truth of it engraves itself deeper into his being.

Aki breathes, “I love you.”

You smile, you lean in and kiss his shoulder. “I love you too, Aki.”

Aki nuzzles your forehead weakly. He gives the two of you a few more moments to regain composure, and then he pushes himself up, discarding the condom and collecting both of your clothes. He helps you get dressed, he tugs his clothes on and adjusts them so they're just as neat as they were before. You hand him his hair tie as you finish buttoning up your shirt, and Aki ties his hair up before climbing into the driver's seat.

The rain has finally slowed down to a soft drizzle. Thankfully, when you climb into the passenger's seat and scan the road, you don't see anyone on the streets. You lean your head into the headrest, finally feeling the fatigue of the mission and the previous activities from earlier take over.

Aki looks towards you. He makes sure you're alright, he reaches for the keys and turns them in the ignition, firing up the engine.

You meet his eyes. One of his hands grips the steering wheel, and the other reaches for yours. He brings it close to his face, he presses a kiss to your knuckle. He lets go and settles his palm onto your thigh.

“Come on. Let’s go home.”

a/n: pls forgive if you see any errors, dumblr likes to fuck up my posts for some reason.

#creaming in my pants when i wrote this #watch me not post for months again after this #feels good to put something out once in a while though #aki x reader #aki smut #aki hayakawa x reader #aki hayakawa smut #csm x reader #csm smut #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man x you #chainsaw man smut #aki x you #aki hayakawa x you #hayakawa aki x you #hayakawa aki x reader

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headphonegrl · 7 months

Text

“Do you feel old?” You ask Jude, your voice hoarse from performing multiple songs back to back on the garish karaoke machine his mum had rented out for the occasion. There are now at least a dozen badly shot videos of you singing in Jude’s camera roll, including a rendition of ‘happy birthday’ sung by you and his brother where half his index finger is covering the lens.

“What’d you mean?” After hours of displaying nothing but rash energy, Jude finally feels himself getting sluggish while trying to endure the unbearable gnawing feeling of pins and needles rising up his legs; a big plush sofa sits untouched on the other side of the living room but you’ve both decided to drunkenly cram yourselves onto the armchair in a mess of tangled limbs.

“Just a silly question.” As you flutter your eyes shut, Jude tries to get a proper look at the glitter eyeshadow you had meticulously applied earlier that evening. In the wake of a large round of tequila shots, some of his friends had insisted on having their own ‘sparkle stuff’ and began queuing at the bathroom door like kids waiting to get their face painted like a tiger at the zoo. “Do you feel any older yet?”

“I’m not sure.” It’s the kind of question he’d once been asked in the primary school playground, with a blue birthday badge pinned proudly onto the fabric of his uniform. Back then it seemed very easy and obvious to answer plainly with a ‘no’, though now he’s finding himself stumped for a reply entirely. “Do you ever feel like that?”

“I think the last age I felt was seventeen.” You say definitively as if you've thought about it at great length before. Jude hadn’t known you at that age, but his home screen for almost a year was a photo your mum had shown him of you pulling a horrific face while blowing out the candles of your seventeenth birthday cake.

“That’s probably the same for me.” Embarrassingly, Jude had once referred to himself as a ‘seventeen-year-old’ during a frenzied post-match interview and then had to sheepishly correct himself by clarifying that he had just turned nineteen. Sometimes he feels like the years are slipping through his fingers like sand and there’s no sufficient way to stop them.

“Then before that it was twelve.” You continue as you do a little cat-like stretch with your free arm which Jude finds incredibly endearing along with everything else you do; he supposes it’s a very common side-effect when it comes to being in love.

“I found being twelve proper boring.” It was something he remembers expressing even at that age. Just as if he had been dropped off somewhere by his childhood and was painstakingly waiting for his teenage years to finally pick him up and take him somewhere exciting. “It’s such an in-between age.”

“That’s true.” The sky in the open window behind you is that awkward shade of grey that appears just before sunrise, like a page when a printer begins to suddenly run out of ink.

“I wish we’d known each other as kids.” Jude feels as though he goes through life with your name humming inside his chest like a second heart and yet this sentence seems so intimate that he can’t even look at you as speaks. Instead, he takes extra care and attention towards staring at the ceiling and inspecting all the sparse helium balloons that have floated up towards it.

“So do I.” Your words come out as a dozy whisper and Jude finds himself smiling up at a star-shaped foil balloon. He’s not twelve or seventeen, but he’s just turned twenty and loves you so much that he doesn’t even care that both of his legs have gone completely numb from sitting with you on this unbearably uncomfortable armchair.

#hiiiii everyone #excuse any typos etc just turned 3 am #headphonegrl comeback era 4 REAL #my writing #football imagines #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fluff #footballer x reader #footballer x you #footballer imagine #footballer fanfic #jude bellingham one shot #footballer one shot

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laiiaaa · 1 year

Text

LOVE WILL TEAR US APART — CARMEN BERZATTO (part 1)

summary You come back to Chicago for the first time since Christmas five years ago. Seeing Carmen might just split you wide open.

length 5.4k

contents angst, childhood friends to not friends not lovers but a secret third thing, very deeply requited love and everyone knows it except them, family troubles/fighting (giving y’all the Berzatto special), takes place the year of Mikey’s passing so everything is still fresh n rly painful, reader has the nickname ‘Birdie’, there's some fluff dw, happy endings are overrated we die like men

note this was originally going to be 1 part but seeing as the doc is reaching 13k words…here’s just the beginning :)

Wind comes from the pale gray sky and bites at your cheeks and the tip of your nose. Fingers go stiff, a chill runs from the nape of your neck down your spine. Maybe you should’ve worn more than just your jacket; Chicago’s always been a little colder than New York, anyway. You tend to forget the little things.

The windows of the Berzatto house glow yellow with company, and you can hear the bustle just by standing at the door, frosted glass animated by guests. You can picture it like it was yesterday: white yellow lights around every corner, the table set in full with porcelain and silver, hollow presents under the tree, too much talking to hear yourself think. You can still go home to at least save yourself the trouble. Can’t lose if you don’t try, right?

For once, it’s Richie who greets you—not like Mikey’s around to do it anymore, to pull you into a bear hug and tell you how much you’ve grown up, to ease you into the chaos he struggles to navigate himself. Struggled, you have to remind yourself. Past tense.

“Birdie!” he calls out to you, opening the door wide before you can knock, half-expecting you to walk yourself in before meeting you on the porch instead with a big smile.

You look up at him as he plants his warm hands on your shoulders. He’s taller than you remember, but five years time leaves a lot in the ruins. “Hey, Richie.” You lean into the hug and into his chest to at least try to catch your breath, to try and slow down your heart’s racing.

He rubs your back ever so slightly. “It’s good t’see you, kid. ‘S been a while, I missed you ‘n that smile ‘f yours.” He gives you two pats and pulls back to hold you by your arms as he gives you a good look. His brows twitch, subtle enough to nearly miss it, with a sympathetic curve to his mouth. “You doin’ alright?”

Since Mikey died is what he means to add to the end of the question. Maybe it’s Since you up an’ left us. Or Now that you’re finally free.

You stick with the first one and just nod. “I’m okay.” Your eyes flit back to his face before landing on the front door, unease pooling in your gut. “A little nervous to be back in so long.” You let your voice go quiet, and you look at your hands and with wet eyes while your fingers fidget like a tall child. “And I…I miss him, y’know?…I should’ve—” you’re getting choked up now, throat growing tight— “I should’ve been here, or—”

His brows really furrow this time, head tilting to the side before he looks to the sky to bite back any real sadness that could come through in his voice, to keep you from seeing it. Bringing you into a hug again, he mutters, “Shhh, don’t beat yourself up about it, sweetheart. I know you miss him, I know.” A gentle kiss to the top of your head. “We all do.”

Growing up across the street from the Berzattos led them to be a second family to you—and, by extension, Richie, for how inseparable he and Mikey were. Much of your memories as a kid were the two older boys, already teens by the time you came into the picture: Mikey and Richie taking you out to ice cream, Mikey and Richie pushing you on the swings down at the playground, Mikey and Richie teaching you to ride a bike. They might as well have been your older brothers by blood. They always cherished and doted on you, and while it changed in manner as you grew older—from piggy back rides to intimidating prom dates—it was always there. They always cared. Richie still does. Maybe double as much to make up for what’s been lost.

You don’t cry so much into his chest. A few tears fall, sure, but you use the time to just breathe, to close your eyes, to stall. Sniffling, you pull away, wipe your eyes, and straighten your clothes, smoothing creases. “Okay,” you huff. “I’m okay. I’m ready.”

A knowing look. “You sure?”

You nod. “Yeah, I’m good.” Another sniffle. “Promise.”

Richie turns to face the house with you, opening the door while the other hand stays hovering by your shoulder. With the smallest shift in the hinges, noise spills out the door. Small talk in the living room, clinking of glass against tabletops, boisterous laughter, timers ringing in the kitchen, Donna’s voice rolling in. It’s more than you remember. Heavier. Hotter. Richie motions to take your coat and you happily oblige, left to pick at the hems of your sleeves rather than buttons and pockets.

“So,” Richie starts, and with the way he says it you’d think you look like you’re about to pass out, “How’s New York treatin’ ya lately? You a hot-shot lawyer yet?”

You laugh softly, partly to be nice and partly to stave off the awkwardness you feel, like you’re being watched by the rest of the family. “I just passed the bar this year, Richie, I’m barely an associate—”

“Right, right, right—all that stuff goes over my head. Whatever, you’re a genius in my book.”

You smile sheepishly. “Yeah, well the people I work with are just—they’re incredible, how smart they are. I’m a baby compared to them.”

He waves it off as if to say Fuck ‘em. “How’s the livin’ situation, then? You affordin’ it okay, eatin’ good, all that?” He looks a little more stern, more brotherly when he asks it.

“I’m fine.” You look up at him and smile to let him know you’re honest, that you aren’t just saying it to get him off your back. “I really like it out there. I made decent enough money as a paralegal, and I have a roommate with a cushy job in finance. We’re pretty close, but we don’t see each other often with our hours ‘n stuff. Not the best,” you shrug, “But I’m doing pretty well, all things considered.”

He pauses, looks you over to see you’re genuine. “Alright,” he sighs, pulling you into his side and squeezing you tight because he knows you hate it. “I believe ya.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, fuck you.” You’re laughing a little harder for the first time since arriving in Chicago, and it reminds you that it can be close to normal, coming home. “Where’s Nat? I haven’t talked to her since I got off the plane.”

“She’s upstairs resting.” He lets go and starts drifting to the kitchen absentmindedly—why, you’re not sure. “The baby’s got her in a mood, kickin’ ‘n all that, the little fucker—but Pete ‘n Carm ‘r down here somewhere—”

Your heart stops, and for a moment you can’t hear anything but your own thoughts, fragments of his voice and his laughter from memory. Your chest goes tight, your throat runs dry. You knew from Nat and Richie that he’d come back to Chicago a while ago, after Mikey’s funeral, but never in a million years did you think he’d come to Christmas dinner. Richie doesn’t seem as shocked as you think he should be. “Carmen? He’s here?” You nearly whisper it, afraid to be heard if he’s nearby.

He stops walking. “In the kitchen, yeah, why? You talk to ‘im in a while? Figured he’d’ah told ya, me ‘n Nat had to convince ‘im. A real jagoff about it, by the way.” His tone doesn’t say anything more than his words do. Maybe he’s forgotten about everything, or he’s trying to spare you. Maybe he never knew all that much to begin with.

“No,” you answer, quiet with an ache in your chest you haven’t felt in years. “We don’t…we haven’t really talked since the last time I was here…” And I don’t want to change that at the moment is what you don’t say, bile in your throat at the thought of peeling back scabbed wounds.

Before Richie can comment, a loud voice comes to you from the front room: “Is that my little Birdie?”

Cicero. You missed him, honestly.

He huffs himself out of his seat in the living room and welcomes you in the foyer, bringing your attention away from Richie like you’d been hoping to. “Oh, I missed you,” he says, giving a brief kiss to your cheek.

You hug him in return, but really you’re just hoping to get away from the kitchen. “Missed you too.”

Resting his hands on your shoulders, he smiles and looks at your face. “You’ve only gotten more beautiful since the last time I saw you. Like an angel.” He doesn’t let you protest, he only peeks behind you to look at Richie, who leans against the wall with his arms crossed. “Ain’t she beautiful, Richie?”

“Yeah,” he deadpans, unamused. “A real treat she is.”

Cicero looks back to you and speaks lowly. “Ignore that son ‘f a bitch. He’s just jealous ‘cause you’re my favorite.” He winks, gestures to the living room, and takes a few steps while he brings his voice back to a normal volume. “C’mon, tell this ol’ geezer about New York—can’t even remember the last time I was there, musta been ‘83—”

If the rest of the night is like this, you think, Carmen might not be so much of an issue. He could be nothing at all, like he always wanted to be.

He promises himself that he’ll say something by the end of the night. He has to, he thinks, and if not to avoid being an asshole, then to avoid getting reamed by Richie. Carmen realizes he has the upper hand, too, whether he likes it or not: he at least expected you to be here. That doesn’t make it any less terrifying to hear your name.

The first time is when he’s cutting onions as Richie opens the door, and he gets lucky enough to hear nothing else but the door shutting afterward. An afterthought, a mirage maybe.

In between that and the second, his name slips by your lips. You whisper it, of course, because you hate him—you hate him for the way he treated you, and for the way he didn’t, and for the fact that he wasn’t man enough to ever speak to you about any of it, or speak to you at all. And despite the fact you try to hide it when you say it, he hears you; he doesn’t think anything could keep him from doing that much. Especially not when it sounds just like you did years ago on those half-broken steps to the back porch, after everything went to shit and there was a hole in the fucking house and you couldn’t stop crying if you tried. He was there for you like he always was: letting you lean your head on his shoulder as you wept, one arm holding you tight to keep you grounded while the other hand nursed a cigarette to keep himself sane. And his name sounded just like it does tonight when you turned to look at him with bleary eyes so many years ago, whispering Carmen? so sweet he wanted to taste the lip gloss that flavored it. That night he did, for a fleeting moment. Before he ruined it.

So of course, he hears you say his name, and he knows it’s you. He doesn’t think anything could keep him from knowing you.

The second time he hears your name it’s like a confirmation. A confirmation that it’s real, you’re real, and you’re here, and it isn’t his mind playing tricks on him like it does when it’s late at night and he’s walking the streets and thinks he sees a girl that looks like you. The rest of the dialogue after the fact goes blurry, the timers going off turn into a monotone buzz, all he hears is chopchopchop against the cutting board until Uncle Jimmy calls you beautiful. He’s sure you are, but he doesn’t want to see it and believe it even more. Your heels click against the hardwood a few times, and he’s not sure where Ma went, but Richie’s standing behind him saying something he can’t decipher and he wants to tell him to Fuck off but he can’t, not now, not tonight.

“Cousin!” Richie snaps, pushing his shoulder. “Did you hear a word I just said?”

He sighs and looks over his shoulder but stays gripping the knife. “No, sorry, say it again—‘m listenin’.”

“Right. So when’s the last time you talked t’her?”

His hand squeezes a little harder, the knife suffers for it. “Talk t’who?”

A quick bang of a hand to the counter top leaves the onions rattled. “Don’t play stupid with me right now, Cousin—” a harsh finger points in Carmen’s face— “or I swear t’God I will fuck you up once this dinner’s over.”

He pauses. He looks past Richie into the foyer where you once stood but quickly goes back to work. Chop. “Look, I dunno, it—it’s just been a while, I dunno the exact fuckin’ date, alright?” Oh, but how vividly he does.

“Yeah? How’s five years to the fuckin’ day sound? Pretty damn accurate, or what?”

No response. Chop.

“You’re a real piece’ah fuckin’ work, y’know that, right?” Richie sounds about as angry as he’s ever been, but it’s different this time: it’s quiet, it’s controlled, it crawls up Carmen’s spine.

“It’s not—it’s not like I meant to, to, uh—”

“ ‘To, to, uh’ what?” he mocks. “To pull the shit you did then go fuckin’ AWOL on ‘er?”

Another beat of silence. Laughter trails in from the living room, and he starts to wonder if it’s you who made it ring. He shakes his head, scrunches his nose. “H—…” Rethinking whether he wants the answer to his question, he puts the knife down and leans into his hands before looking over Richie’s shoulder again. “How, uh…how is she?” It’s muttered, ashamed, the way he asks it, brows furrowed with regret and slithers of hope. “ ‘S she doin’ alright?” He heard bits and pieces of the conversation from just a minute ago, but part of him needs this: to hear it crystal clear, to have it branded beneath his 773 tattoo you traced with an anxious finger, to have the pain be inadmissible such that he can’t forget it.

Without needing to look him in the eye Richie knows to soften his approach. Carmen’s eyes are wet, he’s got that solemn air to him that he gets when he’s thinking about something that forms lumps in his throat, he swipes his hand by his mouth like the words were bitter to say out loud.

He turns over his shoulder like he’ll get caught and looks down at the chef. “She’s good, Carm,” he sighs, nodding his head slowly and with raised brows. “Real good…Like Cicero said, she—she’s beautiful, ‘n she’s gotta career lined up for ‘er. But—” he hesitates when Carmen looks up— “The look on ‘er face, man, it—it changed when she found out you’re here.”

Something indescribable flows through his veins. “Wh—what d’ya mean?” He shakes his head in denial. “Like, like, it—what’d she look like?” He waits expectantly, and part of him hopes something hard and fast’ll put him out of his misery.

Richie swallows. He smooths a hand over his hair, lets it fall to the nape of his neck while his eyes dance elsewhere. “Listen, she…she just looked like—” He kisses his teeth, unsure of how to phrase it, weary of the first thing to come to mind and whether the subject was worth mentioning at all. He should lay it to rest.

But Carmen is ever the stubborn boy at heart. “Cousin.” Fingers drum against granite. “Looked like what?”

“...Like I’d just stabbed ‘er in the gut.”

The rest of the family is enthralled by you, though whether it’s because they haven’t seen you in five years and miss you, or because it finally gives them an excuse to make Lee let someone else talk, you’re not sure. But by the time they let you get a breath in it feels like three hours have gone by, though when you peek at your watch, it’s barely been thirty minutes. You’d forgotten how exhausting the family is when they’re all together. Your head hurts. It’s too hot. You could use a nap.

Cicero looks at you a little softer from his chair. “Would you like a drink, hon? I should've asked ya before we sat you down for an interrogation.”

“Oh, well,” you start, pausing to let it seem like you aren’t dying for that opportunity, “I’ll have one. Is there wine?”

“Of course there is. I’ll grab a glass for ya—” he begins rising from his chair, but you stop him.

“It’s alright,” you insist. “I don’t mind getting it—in the kitchen?”

He nods, and you’re on your way. You pass by Richie and the Faks in the foyer and try to hide the deep breaths you’re focusing on, eyes shut and shoulders shrugging as Richie eyes the kitchen before you enter like you’ll be walking into a war zone.

It’s exactly what you’d expect: Donna with a glass in hand, Carmen assisting, an ashtray full nearby. Natalie has joined them, so you must have missed her on her way downstairs, and Pete hovers beside her as she speaks to him with a worried look on her face, disjointed from the other two Berzattos.

You’ve nearly psyched yourself up enough to interrupt when Donna notices you, almost instantly placing her glass on the counter. “Oh, Birdie, I—” She looks happy, you think, but with her it’s never been easy to tell. “C’mere, honey.” She opens her arms to you and gifts you a hug, patting your back as she says, “It’s been so long, my beautiful Bird—” she pulls away to get a better look at you and plants a kiss to your cheek, just like Cicero— “Oh gosh, you’re so beautiful, all grown up.” She smells thickly of tobacco.

“Thank you,” you laugh, dazed by so much affection from her, “Cicero said the same, it’s just been a while.”

“Well—” she picks up her glass promptly after her hands leave you— “It’s true, you’re practically glowing. He knows what he’s talking about.” She takes a hefty sip like she can’t get enough, and quickly looks to her son. “Isn’t that right, Carmen?”

From where he stands nudged into the corner, focused on the countertop with nothing to do but wring his hands, his attention perks up to his mother. “What was that, Ma?”

You can’t ignore the fact that she hasn’t acknowledged Natalie nor Pete since you arrived; you’re stuck, looped in with Donna and Carmen and somehow obligated to stay there until you’ve been dismissed. You know how she is. Carmen won’t look at you, either.

“Look at Birdie,” Donna coos, and she gestures to present you to him. Your stomach turns. “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” She smiles coolly, looks to Natalie only for a brief moment to rub salt in the wound.

Carmen, reluctantly, looks at you. His golden brown curls are disheveled as always, made messier by anxious runs of his fingers every few minutes. His mouth seems caught in a persistent pout that he won’t let up, and if it were years ago, you’d stay by his side until he broke you just to keep someone in his corner. Beneath his eyes rest dark circles, and he wears a forest green sweater you’ve never seen before. There’s a split second of eye contact that has your breath caught in your throat. You haven’t been able to look at him in what feels like a lifetime, let alone hear his voice—not even over the phone. It’s different than you remember, a little huskier, more fatigued. You wish you couldn’t care.

He gives a shallow nod and a shrug to Donna’s question. “Yeah.” His eyes meet yours accidentally again before looking back to his mother, apathy bordering on distaste. “She looks nice.”

You look nice. You don’t know what you thought he would say. Part of you wished he would’ve said exactly as Donna did, or that he’d use the word beautiful, or stunning, or pretty, even. But he’s never been one for words—his consolation offerings were limited to a shared cigarette and sitting beside you, and you’ve always resented that part of him since your last Christmas together. If he’d been better with words, it would’ve been just that; there wouldn’t have been the hand on your back turning into an arm wrapped around your shoulder, he never would’ve pressed his lips to your temple for the first time since you were in kindergarten, you would’ve never been close enough to smell tobacco on his breath. You never would’ve known what American Spirits taste like off of anxious lips or what it feels like to be worth everything and then nothing at all.

Donna kisses her teeth and gives you a sympathetic look as she cups her hand to your neck. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t listen to him. He’s just in a mood today.” She sips her wine again, which quickly turns into the rest of the glass.

That’s not a mood, you think. That’s just Carmen.

By the Berzatto standards, dinner preparation blows over without a hitch. The house smells divine, nothing is broken, no one has stormed out. Ma sits down with only five glasses of wine in her system. No one mentions the gaping hole in the seating arrangement at one head of the table—not even Lee.

Carmen feels the weight of it on his shoulders, and he thinks you feel it too. You sit for a few minutes as everyone settles with your head in your hands, eyes closed as you breathe. Every time you open your eyes they shoot to Mikey’s seat, only for your hands to cover them again with a sniffle. Richie keeps a good eye on you, even though they’re getting glassy from watching you, and he rests a soothing hand on your back before leaning down and whispering something Carmen doesn’t catch. You shake your head, perking back up again as you dab at your eyes with your sleeves, looking to Richie and mouthing the words I’m okay with a smile plastered on. Carmen’s skeptical.

Uncle Jimmy insists on saying grace as a way to honor both you and Carmen being in Chicago for the holiday, and instinctively he looks to you, looking for something to hold onto to let things feel normal with you, but you keep your eyes closed. Since you walked into the kitchen nearly an hour ago he hasn’t been able to get his mind off of the sweetheart neckline of your dress, or the locket pendant hanging close to your chest. Mikey gifted it to you, he remembers, when you earned your undergraduate degree—presented in a black velvet box when you saw him after the ceremony, you cried. Carmen wasn’t there; he was in Copenhagen, doing other things. He can’t quite remember what.

Grace gives way to a more quiet bustle of the dinner, where talking is more or less limited to passing plates and taking first bites, making sure everyone has said hello to everyone. He sits almost silent, taking a measly bite every few moments to avoid an excuse to talk. He notices you don’t navigate this dinner like you have the countless ones before: you’re engaged tonight, laughing with Richie beside you and looping Sugar and Pete into your banter; you’re no longer the teen you once were, who would sit at the end of the table with him to stay quiet and barely munch on dinner, the two youngest with Mikey to your sides, pestering the both of you to Eat, ‘fore Ma tells you to. And it’s not a bad thing, either. You always had that way about you like Mikey did, where you could make conversation with anyone, make them fall in love with you, make them think you’re their best friend. He’s always thought you were his, anyway. You look happier than he’s ever seen you. Ever since he could remember, he had a feeling you’d outshine him.

It’s like Ma said—you’re glowing.

It’s nearing fifteen minutes since the food being served when Sugar nudges him on his right. “You alright, Bear?” She keeps it quiet, under the radar. “You haven’t eaten much.”

He nods and takes a bite to cover his tracks. “Yeah, yeah—just not that hungry, ‘s all.” He hasn’t eaten today. It’s the nerves, really, of seeing everyone—of seeing Ma, seeing you. Brings him back to New York, where his morning ritual included huddling over the toilet and rinsing his mouth until he couldn’t taste stomach acid anymore. He’s hoping that with being in the kitchen all day, she doesn’t pry. “Thanks, Sug.”

She furrows her brows but drops the subject with a bit of a pout. “…Okay.”

“So,” Stevie starts, at the opposite corner of the table, leaning over his plate to smile at you from down the table. “Birdie—can I call you Birdie? Is that okay?”

You smile that smile you always do when you’re caught off-guard before shrugging lightheartedly and taking a bite. “Uh, sure. I mean, everyone here does.”

Richie makes eyes at you, weirded out, and Carmen tries to follow, but you only link with the older of the two. He’s shut out.

“Great. I’ve been wondering—why does everyone call you that? I mean, I know Sugar here’s got an origin story, so what’s yours?”

“Oh, this is such a sweet one,” Ma chimes in, hands over her heart. “They was so adorable, her ‘n Carmen.” The words have warmth blossoming in his chest and rising to his neck.

“Yeah,” you laugh, “I’m probably not the best person to tell you; I was really little.” You try to stifle a smile at the thought, and Carmen knows it’s the same thought as his: Mikey loved that story. “Richie’s probably man for the job.” You look up to the man on your left and pat him on the back to startle him. “Aren’t ya, Rich?”

“Uh, yeah, fuck that.” He nods to Carmen. “He can tell ya, Stevie, he was the one dancin’ with ‘er like an idiot, not me.” He shoves three bites’ worth of food into his mouth so he won’t have to talk anymore.

Sugar cuts in, “He was also five, he had nothin’ to do with picking that name.”

“Yeah?” he taunts, mouth still full because he can’t help but put up a fight, “Then you were eleven, missy, so you can tell it. You remember.”

The room starts spinning, there’s back and forth between Sugar and Richie, and Neil’s roped into it, and then Michelle’s convincing them to calm down, but Richie’s still going at it, starting to tell the story, but Ma says it’s not right, and Sugar cuts in again, and the room is still spinning and his head won’t stop pounding and there isn’t enough water in the world to clear his throat.

“Alright, alright!” It’s Uncle Jimmy now, almost shouting, waving his hands to simmer the room. Carmen would thank him if he could speak. “I’ll tell the damn story, you all settle down, eh?” He clears his throat, sips on his drink. “Our Birdie here, when she was real young, now she was a singer. All the time, some tune. Didn’t even have t’be a real song, she’d be hummin’ it anyway.”

You’re sheepish as Uncle Jimmy praises you, grinning to yourself and rolling your eyes at the embarrassment. Cute, Carmen thinks. He smiles and takes a bite of his food.

“An’ remember,” Uncle Jimmy continues, “This was late ‘90s, we didn’t have none’ah that YouTube, Spotify music bullshit, whatever’s popular with you people now—so anyway. We had this boombox for the longest time—”

“Yeah,” Richie interrupts, “Was a real piece a shit, that’s for damn sure.”

Cicero points to Richie while looking at Steve. “Correct. So one Christmas, many, many years ago—”

“Don’t make it sound so cryptic,” you giggle, and Carmen has a tiny fire lit in his chest, eyes trapped on your smile. He remembers that night—not so vividly, but enough.

“Right, right. I apologize, sweetheart.” Uncle Jimmy turns back to Stevie. “One Christmas the weather was especially bad—snow storm, crazy winds, Christmas lights flyin’ everywhere—and the power goes out. An’ our boombox ain’t workin’, got jammed or somethin’.” He shrugs, makes a face that’s unassuming. “So whatta ya do for the music, then? Everyone knows you need holiday music, eh?”

With you, Carmen laughs for the first time tonight. He likes it that way, uninterrupted by the noise of the other guests, who are all listening fondly and eating their meals. It’s like that special Christmas all over again. You’re so pretty when you’re laughing, part of him is a little jealous that anyone else gets to see you like this.

“So Mikey comes up with a great idea. We already got a singer, right? So we just need ‘er to do the holiday songs. So we get ‘er, ‘n we ask her to sing for us all—me, Donna, Mikey, Richie, Sugar, ‘n Carmen, that was it ‘cause ‘ah the storm—but she won’t do it.”

“They were tryin’ to force me, Stevie!” You smile up the table and back at Uncle Jimmy. Carmen beams back at you even though you’re not looking. Richie is.

“An’ she’s cryin’,” Uncle Jimmy continues, “An’ she’s all nervous, she can’t do it, whatever. Then our little Carmy Bear over there—” he shoots him a look with a smug and pointing finger, and Carmen flushes, grinning at his plate to hide from you— “Now he’s her knight in shinin’ armor.”

Everyone smiles at that—you, Richie, Sug, Ma, and Carmen, and everyone else—because that’s the truth. At least it was, for a while. You and Carmen keep your smiles downcast, hidden from the other, and Richie and Sugar make eyes at one another, looking between the two of you.

“He gets ‘er outta her hidin’ spot behind the couch where she was cryin’ an’ he brings ‘er a wooden spoon for a microphone, and he whispers somethin’ to ‘er—to this day I dunno what, coulda been anythin’ for all I care—and all of a sudden she wants to sing again. She sings Rudolph, Jingle Bells, Frosty the Snowman, all the stuff the kids knew, an’ she does it all with this wooden spoon, with our little Bear holdin’ ‘er hand the whole time.”

“An’ he didn’t even do anythin’!” Richie points out. “Just stood there, swingin’ ‘er arm like a jagoff—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Uncle Jimmy waves off, “But he did it for ‘er. And so,” he says, a finality in his tone, looking back at Stevie across the table, “Birdie is born. Our little Christmas song bird protected by the Big Bear. An’ the rest is history.”

Stevie smiles and nods his head. “That was sweet. Really, really sweet.”

“Oh,” Ma laments, “I just love that story. They were such babies then, so cute. It was always Birdie ‘n Carmy doin’ this, Carmy ‘n Birdie doin’ that. Always on their little adventures together. He took her everywhere.”

Carmen smiles to himself, head down as he eats his food. He doesn’t think of his childhood often, more so the teenage years if anything, when he was failing school. Hearing back such a memory brings up a sense of nostalgia—not necessarily for being a kid again, or doing those stupid things, but for how easy it was.

Ma is right: it was you and him together for the ride, up until it wasn’t. He never cared as much after reaching high school. You were in different buildings, and he saw you around but didn’t spend as much time with you anymore. He outgrew you, it seemed. Even in his early twenties when that fire rekindled, he devoted himself to his work. You were still close, closer than you were with anyone else in the family, and nothing would ever change that. But life ran its course.

And it ran pretty damn fast.

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suw4 · 7 months

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Your Voice

Hinata Shoyo from Haikyuu!!

an/tw: TIMESKIP SPOILERS! im so thankful with all the love that the first part had gotten!!! so here's a treat for you. the writing might be a little messy but am hoping you like this

Masterlist | Haikyuu!! Masterlist

part1 | part2

The first-year couple sat at a nearby playground. Both of them are sitting in the seat of each swing. "I didn't know you felt that way, [N/n]," Shoyo felt guilty. He was so indulged in volleyball that he failed to focus on his boyfriend's feelings. Even though it wasn't his fault. "I didn't want you to worry. So I didn't say anything. That's why I've been avoiding watching you play,"

"Oh. I thought you were only busy with your studies..."

"I am. I mean, what else can I do when I can't play volleyball with you?" [Name] let out a dry chuckle. "Once I'm done with education, I'll find myself a good high-paying job so I can afford a hearing aid at least. I don't think I can afford a cochlear implant. That stuff is hella expensive. A little risky too since I will have to get surgery," he sighs, looking up to the star-littered sky.

Shoyo stood up and stood in front of the other. Taking his hands into his and squeezed them. "I'm sorry that you had to experience this, [N/n]. It must've been frustrating, huh?" he whispered, slowly letting go and embracing the [h/c] haired. "I'm sorry," he repeated. [Name] could feel the vibrations on Shoyo's chest. He closed his eyes and hugged the male back. "That stupid drunk driver...! If it wasn't for that idiot, you would've..." the tangerine mumbled. Aggrieved about what had happened to [Name]. Tears swell in his eyes. He felt that he could've done something. But what could he possibly have done to prevent that accident? He was only a junior high student.

[Name] parted from the hug. "Should we go home now? It's late. Your mom is most likely worried by now," he smiled softly as he signed. Reaching out to wipe Shoyo's tears. The shorter male then nodded as he let out a hum.

After a nice relaxing shower, with a small towel over his head, the [h/c] haired male entered his shared bedroom. Seeing his lover lying in bed already. Shoyo placed his phone beside his pillow and spread his arms out. Welcoming the other into bed. [Name] smiled at the sight and hurriedly climbed into his arms. Shoyo wrapped his arms around him and helped him dry his hair afterwards. [Name] laid his head against his chest. Even though he couldn't hear it, he felt it.

"I love feeling your heartbeat, Sho," he snuggled further. He could feel the vibrations sped up. He chuckled. "Are you embarrassed?" he teased, looking up at the other, whose face was flushed with light pink. "Uwah..! Why are you always so verbal when teasing me?" he whines as he covers his cheeks. [Name] laughed lightheartedly and took one of Shoyo's hands away from his face. Leaning forward to give a little peck on his lips. "Sleep," he simply gestured his right fist downwards by the right side of his head. After that, he repositioned himself. With his back against the mattress, he pulled his boyfriend onto him. Nuzzling the tangerine's fluffy locks. Shoyo exhaled in satisfaction and snuggled into the other's warmth. He bid [Name] goodnight, the other replying the same. Slowly, both of them will meet each other in dreamland.

Years passed. Shoyo had gone to Brazil to expand his skills in volleyball. During breaks, he was seen texting on his cell phone like there was no tomorrow. Refusing to remove his attention away from the screen. Oikawa, who was present, became curious and suspicious of his behaviour. Arching a brow at him, he called out. "Oii~ Hinata! What's with you and all that texting?" he asked, walking towards the said male. "Oh, Oikawa-san! I'm just texting my boyfriend,"

"Oh? Boyfriend? Since when!?" shocked, he plopped by the shorter male. Peeking over to the screen. "Since like forever! He's always busy, so you never get to see him in any high school games," he says, still replying away. The older male hummed as he watched him interact. "Oh. Quite a man you've gotten yourself!" he piped when he saw a tad bit of a photo in the chatroom However, he earned a quick glare from the other with the comment. Oikawa was slightly surprised but decided to ignore it. "Hm... How come you don't just call him?"

"He's deaf. Calls are prohibited. Anyways! Look!" Shoyo showed a picture that [Name] had just sent him. It was a picture of [Name] with Yamaguchi at the college cafeteria they were attending. Oikawa was caught off guard by this critical information about his boyfriend, but again, he decided to move on. "Ah, good for him then,"

"Mhm! I'm so proud of him! He decided to get a degree in arts in photography. There aren't many job opportunities for people like him, so..." he unconsciously showed a cheeky smile. Going back to his phone to continue communicating with his beloved boyfriend. Oikawa's expression softens. "Wow, you guys are unbelievably annoyingly cute," Shoyo laughed at that comment. "I owe him a lot. He supported me like hell. Have so much faith in me. I just want to repay him back,"

The atmosphere between them fell into a gentle breeze. It was calming. Impressed, the older male asked, "Ohh! Do you have any plans about it?" Shoyo's smile widens upon hearing that. "Yeah! I want to gather as much money as I can and get him that cochlear implant," Oikawa's eyes widened, and his back straightened. "What!?? Those things are expensive as hell!"

"I know! Once I have enough, I want to go back to Japan and surprise him with that. Now I can't wait for the day to come," he locked his phone and laid his forehead on the screen. Imagining the scenarios. He felt giddy about it. "As much as I hope for the best for you two, I don't want this to disrupt your volleyball training," the brunette says, leaning onto the palm of his hand. "It won't! I've got everything figured out!" he grinned, pumping his fist as he turned to face the older. Oikawa rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, shrimp. Now let's go eat for real!"

Two years passed, and finally, the greatest decoy was back home. His plane just landed. Stepping onto his homeland and making his way to receive his stuff. Once he walked through the gates, he took a deep breath with his eyes closed. Smells like nostalgia.

"Shoyo," a familiar gentle voice called him. He paused and turned to the direction of the sound. A clicking sound could be heard. He saw the love of his life standing there, holding up an expensive-looking camera marking him. His lips stretched into a wide, toothy smile. He started running towards him and pounced on him. Clinging onto him like a koala. [Name] let out a big laugh, locking the male tightly in his arms. "[N/N]!!!!!" Shoyo wept deafeningly. Any passerby stared at the two with a few judging and sympathetic looks.

A wave of relief rushes over him and suddenly all of his tension leaves his body. He felt lighter. A whiff of a smell that lingered on [Name]'s clothing comforted him. He smells like home.

The decoy pulled himself off his lover but his grip on [Name]'s clothes stayed. "How did you know I was coming home today?!" he exclaimed. "Oikawa-san may or may not have texted me," he giggled. "Oikawa-san? No way! I wanted to surprise you! That damn great king!! He beat me with my own boyfriend?!??" he yelled once more. At this rate, they might get kicked out by security. [Name] nudged his boyfriend. "Let's get out of here and eat lunch," he suggested, lifting a paper bag that he had with him. The volleyball player nodded and took his hand, making their way out together.

They settled down at a peaceful park. The photographer had planned a mini picnic with just the two of them. They ate with satisfaction. Shoyo leaned against his boyfriend as they watched the children play about. His cell phone beeped. He took out to see an email. His eyes widened slightly as he sat up, alerting the other. "Sho? What's going on?" [Name] asked. Shoyo's expression was full of glee. He quickly put down his bento and scooted closer to the other. "I have a gift for you!" he signed excitedly. The other male raised a brow. Shoyo then took his hands. Looking down at them and caressing them lightly before lifting them up to kiss the knuckles. "I have booked an important appointment. For you,"

"An appointment? For me?" Shoyo nodded. "I need you to clear up your schedule tomorrow because tomorrow you're going to meet your doctor to discuss about your cochlear implant," he signed each word slowly. Making sure his partner was able to understand it fully. [Name] narrowed his eyes, not believing a single word. "Are you joking with me?"

"I'm not! Look!" Shoyo picked up his phone and went through his emails. Pressing on one particular inbox and showing it to the other. It was an email from a hospital in Tokyo confirming the appointment date. [Name] read it. Reality slowly kicks in. "Shoyo, are you being for real?" his lips trembled lightly. His boyfriend nodded with a smile on his face. "Yes! I'm being so for real right now!" The [h/c] haired gazed down to his lap, clearing the lump in his throat. "Shoyo..." his voice cracked. "Thank you... Thank you..!" his tone differs every second. Filled with so much gratitude that he couldn't stay composed. Shoyo moved himself to sit right by his side and wrapped an arm around his arm. Letting [Name] lean against him. His head lying on the other. "Shoyo... I love you so much," he declared. The other hummed as he responded, "I love you too, [N/n]," The tangerine-haired then reached up to graze his knuckles along his boyfriend's cheeks. [Name] rubbing lightly against his touch. Earning for more. "I know you wanted to get them yourself but I can't let you. You've been such an amazing boyfriend to me and I just wanted to repay you," [Name] read his lips, showing an assured smile. "You're such an amazing boyfriend to me too, Sho,"

The appointment went well. The doctor was patient and nice. The doctor informed them that [Name] must meet the requirements and go through a few tests if he's suitable to get the implant. The process would take a few weeks, almost a month. The couple will have to be patient for it. While the [h/c] goes through it, Shoyo will be supporting him throughout.

The day of the surgery arrives. [Name] was already in surgery while his boyfriend waited in the waiting room. Bouncing his legs, hands clasped together. Shoyo couldn't help but worry. Anxious as hell. All of the possible bad situations came infiltrating his mind.

What if he doesn't make it through? What if he loses his ears? What if the surgery accidentally cut his ears off?!!!!? What if the surgery fails and he can't hear for the rest of his life?? That he'll be so depressed that he won't have the will to live anymore because he will never ever hear my voice again!!??

Luckily, all of his friends were there to snap him out of it. "Ow!! What was that for!?" he groaned after a certain blue-haired male chopped the top of his head with the side of his open hand. "You're freaking out, dumbass!"

"You're sweating up a pool. Stop it, It's disgusting," Tsukishima added, expressing a disgusted face. "Don't worry, Shoyo! He'll make it!" Yachi tries to comfort the male. "Yeah! Besides, he's getting an implant, not a heart surgery!" Yamaguchi tries to support the female's claims. The mention of heart surgery made Shoyo retch harshly. Almost fainting in the process. Chaos ensues. In the end, they all brought Shoyo out to ease his mind.

The doctor mentioned that it would take a week for the implant to heal, so after that surgery, the gang treated the patient for a simple outing. Nothing too extreme. For the rest of the week, they let the male rest while Shoyo was heavily treating him as if he had an incurable disease.

At last, [Name] went for his final checkup. He would finally get the final piece of his cochlear implant. There he sat on a chair--across his doctor's office desk--with his boyfriend beside him. The doctor congratulated the couple. Complimenting and praising the two for how they've handled the surgery recovery. He then pulled out a box and placed it on the desk. Sliding it towards his patient. "Here it is. Your cochlear implant!" he exclaimed with a smile on his face. "I'll leave you with it now. I have another patient to attend to so I'll leave you to it," he continued, making his way out.

[Name]'s lips trembled slightly as overwhelm overcame him. He hesitantly took the box in his hands. His heart pounds loudly. He let out a low grumble before turning to Shoyo. "Will you do the honours, my love?" he signed. Shoyo's eyes stayed glued to him and gulped afterwards. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. You've been so caring and understanding towards me. Babe, you even attended sign language classes with me. Up until now, you've helped me. Now, this is your reward. Be the one that gives me the ability to hear again. As for me, let me hear you," [Name] expressed his feelings through his words. Even though his words were slightly slurred, they hit Shoyo straight into his heart. He was deeply moved, eyes swelling up a little. "Okay. Let's do this!"

Determined, he took the box from [Name]'s lap. Taking a deep breath and out, he lifted the lid. There it was. The hearing device lying comfortably in the softness of the white cushion. "Close your eyes," he told his boyfriend who complied. He then took the devices out. Attaching them onto the side of [Name]'s head and ears.

The breeze, the sound of the air conditioner running. He hears it. A gush of wind brushes along [Name]'s skin. He gasped sharply and his eyes almost popped out. He hears his breath. His heart beating at a rapid and exciting pace. Adrenaline rushed through his body as he snapped to Shoyo. His eyes glistened. He gave him a longing look. It tells him so much. But one stood out.

Speak for me...!

Without hesitation, Shoyo parted his lips. "[Name], I love you..!" he yelled. Shocked waves filled [Name]. It was so loud that he instantly covered his ears, flinching. The other male panicked. Spouting a series of apologies while his arms flailed around. Then the sound of laughter echoed. He looked at his boyfriend was laughing with tears. [Name] sprung out of his chair, embracing his loved one. "I can hear you!" he beamed. Shoyo's heart pumped. He hugged him back tightly while his lips stretched ear to ear. Practically laughing along with his lover as well. "You can hear me!" he repeated.

"Say my name again, Sho," the [h/c] head asked, nuzzling his nose into the crook of his lover's neck. "[Name]," the other replied. This time saying it slowly and articulated each syllable. "Again," he demanded. Shoyo repeated himself once more. This time his tone was much softer. [Name] pulled away from the hug and leaned in for a sweet kiss. Shoyo didn't hesitate to kiss back, slowly wrapping his arms around the other's neck. "Thank you," the taller male breathed out. Pulling away from Shoyo's lips to kiss his forehead instead. "I love you. I love you. I love you," now kissing all over his face, earning a giggle.

The decoy cupped his face, stopping him from giving any more kisses. He gazed into his eyes with a loving expression. "[Name]. I. Love. You." A light tint of pink painted itself over [Name]'s cheeks. Bringing up his own hands and rested them over Shoyo's.

"Please. Say that again,"

[tags]: @ghostgoosygoose

#x male reader #male reader #top male reader #fanfic #fanfiction #male x male #haikyuu #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#hinata shoyo #hinata shoyo x male reader #hinata shoyo x reader

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hoonvrs · 1 year

Text

SANDY CHEEKS — y. jungwon

req for 1k event!

PROMPT playing in a playground with jungwon ( based on his video )

PAIRING jungwon x gnr

GENRE est. relationship, comfort, fluff

WARNINGS the words fuck and ass appear once

W. COUNT 0.4k

S. NOTE his video <//3 the title is so goofy omfg

walks along the han river at ungodly hours wasn’t new to you, courtesy of yang jungwon.

sure you’d stay up until the sun is almost rising, but actually leaving your house was never even an option because, why would you ever consider leaving your warm bed for the harsh cold wind?

until yang jungwon became your boyfriend.

your boyfriend who seems to love walks along rivers past 1am where the moon hangs idly in the sky, preferring to walk along the streets without having them filled with people — or worse, kids.

now, relaxing in your bed as you read online was a thing of the past. slowly finding yourself unconsciously preparing an outfit suitable for the weather outside for when you inevitably receive that ‘be ready in 20, were going on a walk!’ text from jungwon.

you didn’t necessarily hate the walks themselves, it was the cold. good thing you had your boyfriend there to warm you, “babe look! they have a park!”

you followed behind, not like you had much choice when you’re intertwined hands were tucked safely in his jacket pocket forcing you to go after him. sure enough, there was a playground, nothing especially different from the parks that were near your apartment except one thing.

no kids.

“they have a zipline i'm going to piss myself,” jungwon screamed, wasting no time to separate your hands and leave you in the dust.

you huffed under your breath, it's hard to complain about the sudden lack of warmth when you have your boyfriend climbing up the kiddie ladder to position himself high with the biggest smile on his face, “why can't you say you’re excited like a normal person?”

“because it's not as eloquent,” and maybe the effects of being on a playground took a toll on his brain because he blew a fucking raspberry at you. like, full spit and sound, “film me!”

“okay, you overgrown child,” you said, pulling out your phone to start recording him not expecting much.

maybe, you both should have taken into consideration that you were both adults in a children’s playground, so it shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise when jungwon jumped off of the mini tower with the rope between his legs to only make it half the way before his feet buried themselves into the sand — effectively throwing your boyfriend down flat onto the ground.

he got up with a wince on his face, patting his pants down as you began doubling over in laughter on the ground unable to hear him whining over yourself, “i think i got some sand in my ass.” that only made you laugh louder, feeling tears ready to fall at any minute, “happy to see you enjoy my misery.”

“aww, don’t sulk sandy cheeks, let's go home,” you patted his shoulder, walking off towards the pavement leaving him whining behind you.

“hey! don’t call me that!”

perm taglist @mesopret @whoschr @haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @boyfhee @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly @seongclb @dammit-jjk @flwrshee @produmads @teddywonss @aleiouvre @dneltrise @aleiouvre @nyxvrse @yohanabanana

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dreamcatcheratdawn · 5 months

Text

"Until then, I'll wait for you"

I hope this is what you wanted @is2sae, please give feedback 🥹♥️.

Emparelhamento: Itoshi Sae x Fem!reader

Warning: slight mention of blood, a bit of angst, relationship established implicitly, mentions of Itoshi Rin, mentions of Sae's departure for Spain, fluffy ending.

Itoshi Sae, from the start, was a weirdly cute person. Starting with his dream of becoming the best striker in the world. The first time he told you this was when you were standing under a giant fig tree in the park, recovering from the exhaustion of playing ball for almost an hour. Hearing him say it was the cutest thing, his eyes full of sparkle and a smile on his face as he looked up at the blue sky full of clouds.

Oh, the way you met was also highly unusual. A mistimed kick from him resulted in the ball going straight into your face as you made your way home, since school was out. It was when you were both 7 years old, in a playground where there was a soccer field with lots of kids playing on it.

Your nose itched and you felt a warm liquid run down your skin. Taking your hand to the spot, you saw that it was blood. When Itoshi Sae saw it, he immediately despaired and ran towards you, too nervous about the situation to remember his soccer ball. Despite the fact that you, who had been a calmer person since birth, said that everything was fine, he insisted on treating you, resulting in him taking you to his house so that his mother could stop the bleeding.

From then on you started seeing each other quite often, you taking the same route and him playing in the same place at the same time. It started with little nods to each other, then Sae mustered up enough courage to call you over to play with him. And if you didn't know anything about soccer, he was willing to teach you everything from scratch.

Despite being a closed person, Sae was affectionate in his own way with both you and his older brother, Rin. Speaking of his younger brother, you met a month after your new friendship with Sae, when on another occasion you were going to play with Sae, but he had a little boy next to him, a mini version of Sae's total opposite. Rin turned out to be just as good at soccer as his brother, in your eyes that is, since you didn't understand the soccer perspective.

Years passed and the trio's friendship grew stronger every day, where their refuge was now a nice game of soccer. Did you need to calm your nerves? No problem, call Sae and he'll have a game with you. Were you sad? Rin was there to cheer you up too.

Everything was a bed of roses until the day Sae brought the news that he was going on a trip to Spain. The spoonful of ice cream in your mouth stopped in mid-air, making you raise your eyes in his direction. "You're kidding, right?" you said with a smile on your face, staring at him. His serious face showed that he wasn't joking at all.

"I need to go after my dream." That's what he said, lowering his gaze to his already melted ice cream. A lump began to form in your throat, and you frowned, praying that it was just your hearing failing once again. "I'm sorry I'm only telling you now. But I'll be back" Sae looked up, a look of determination on his face "And then I'll take you with me" And just like that, there went your best friend on his journey to be the best striker in the world.

At the airport, you cried in his arms before he left, your arms encircling Sae's body tightly. Words of comfort were whispered from both of you, making promises you didn't know would be kept until then. A silent kiss on the lips was given, neither of you found this act strange, it felt natural and even seemed like you had been dating for years. Rin didn't show up, which indicated that he was too sad to be able to say goodbye to his own brother.

Since that day, you've worked harder and harder to get a good job and earn a living. You missed your passion, of course, but you respected his decision and were there to support him. Your friendship with Rin was still there, and he became more open with you as he grew up. As you were older than him, he saw you as a sister he could lean on for anything.

You and Sae still exchanged messages, albeit rarely, because he was too busy chasing his dream.

A few years passed and you were watching Rin play with the ball that used to be Sae's, in the field now covered with a fluffy blanket of white snow falling from the gray sky. Until Sae appeared, approaching you while carrying a suitcase. He was wearing a team uniform, and he looked...tired?

Rin, obviously delighted at her brother's arrival, ran up to him, starting to chatter happily about everything he'd done over the years that Sae had been away, hoping that her brother would be proud. Sae just patted his little brother on the head, muttering "good job".

Now looking at you, he asked the two of you to go somewhere quieter to talk. Not that that wasn't an ideal place, but Rin was there, so you figured. You nodded, telling Rin you'd be right back, to which he nodded as he went to play with his ball.

Going to a nearby park, you sat on the toy swing there, waiting patiently for what Sae was going to say.

"I couldn't fulfill my dream." It was the first thing he said after an eternity of silence. Your heart skipped a beat, seeing Sae's face looking down, her lips being bitten with such pressure that you feared they would bleed. His hands clenched the rope that supported the swing, his knuckles turning white with the force he put into it.

You didn't have to ask why he hadn't told you before, why he had omitted that fact or even why he hadn't gotten what he wanted so badly. Maybe it was shame, but it didn't matter. You just stood up from your seat, gently hugging Sae's trembling body, without so much as a peep. A kiss was planted on the sweet lips of the man you loved so much, drawing his attention. That's all he needed right now, a little consolation, and he knew he'd get it from you, the person he loved from the first time he saw you.

It was short, but I hope you enjoyed it. Our boy Sae needs comfort, no one can get it out of my head *inner cry*

#itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #blue lock #slight angst #itoshi sae angst #blue lock x reader #blue lock manga #im crying

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jocelynscrazyideas · 3 months

Text

I Know You | Matt Rempe x reader

Inspired by the song I know you by Faye Webster

Warnings: heartache, salty fluff/angst, language, depression, mentions of death, (if you every need help I’m always here to listen and support you- always reach out and I’m here bubbas), the blurb is kinda long lwk. NOT PROOF READ

Summary: after wanting to follow your passion and go for a job you’ve been dreaming of, Matt turns down your dreams and shuts you out. You feel insufferable without him but feel unseen for your love and potential when you’re together.

a/n: I’ve been thinking abt Matt and I was listening to this song on the shower and I was like “damn, this is it.” So I hope you enjoy.

📚💬: Lando Norris? Or I could make a new blog and post there but yippee 🥳 OML and I know everyone likes my smut work more but im proud of this piece so don’t be mean. MATT REMPE WOULD NEVER DO THIS IRL (READ THSI WITH A GRAIN IF SLAT)

.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺༻

I had recently been really verbal about my dream job, being a Social Worker. I grew up in a family issued home, and I had recently gotten out. I want to let people know that there is safety and secure housing out there. That’s why this job has always been important to me.

It’s off season, Matt is off ready to train for the summer. Matt, my boyfriend if 5 months had recently told me to reach farther than the stars. “The sky looks like the limit, but there are most definitely more than one universe out there. Reach for the impossible.” He told me. Matty supported my dreams until he found out the job I wanted to take was in Wyoming.

Now it seems stupid but, I’d go across the world to take the job- im determined to rescuing the unseen.

“You should stay! Find a social worker association in New York! Please.” Matt begged. For weeks he would buy me flowers and take me out to dinner.

“Matt you just don’t get it!” I yell from the other side of our shared bed.

“I know you better than I know myself y/n! Of course I get it.” He shouts in my face. He stumps towards me. I crawl over the large bed and run out the room. I slam the door. Running for my shoes.

“You can’t just run!” He screams from the top of the stairs. He watches me slide my shoes on, he runs down the stairs as he sees me darting for my water bottle and the keys to my car.

“You don’t get it Matt! I lived it! You didn’t!” I immediately shout, he takes a hold of my wrist. He scoffs and lets me go. Dropping my heart, my stomach, my air, and I leave.

I have a work cell and a personal phone. Matt has my work number but not the location so I purposely left my personal on the counter and left. “You left your phone! y/n!” He shouts as I get in the car.

“Keep it! That’s how you’ll remember me! How you treated me!” I mimic him. Mocking what I had thought was the love of my life- which clearly I was wrong.

He runs after me. I see him dash inside of the house letting the glass door shut into the frame. He rubs out of the house once more, this time sitting the door securely.

Surely he’s just going to the grocery. No. He’s driving after me.

I take a sharp left, right. I pass through a light, I turn into a neighborhood, behind a blue house was a path. I park in the Parking lot they had taht sits infront of a large pink and organge playground. I take my keys and let my water sit in the car.

I tie my shoes and sprint away. I make it to .14 miles and I check to see Matt isn’t behind me. No one is on the path. I set my phone down and I tighten my runners belt.

I stuff my keys and push my phone in. I put my AirPods in and stuff the case into the belt. I listen to sad songs to fuel my running crave. I stretch after that warmup.

I hear cars passing by. “I’m sorry, i am playing hide and seek with my girlfriend, she is hiding with my niece I was wondering if you have seen her.” I stand up from my stretches.

What the fuck.

I’m behind a wall of bushes that hide the running path. I slide my head over, I peek through. Shit.

It’s Matt.

“Her name in is y/n. If you see her just tell her to meet me at the green marble.”

Green marble. The place I took him when he had his first panic attack after an nhl game. I calmed him down at this lake and it was super clear- really beautiful. The green marble was the place we spend the most time at together, our first kiss happened here, our last date was here.

The real reason why we call it the green marble is because I was wearing a green dress and he had on socks that I made fun of, they were marble/ tie dye.

Matt turns as I jerk back. He made eye contact with me through the bush. “Y/n?” He mumbles. He apologizes to the stranger he was talking to and walked toward me. I ran. I ran to my car. Letting him think I was getting in. I watch him turn around and head to his car.

He thinks he’s going to follow me out of the park. Nope.

I take off. I start on a small jog towards the duck pond they have. I run around this pond about four times which lead to about 1.43 miles.

I get tired of letting Matt eat away my feelings. I run back to my car, I stretch before I get in and I drink my water. I’m covered in bug bites and sweat. It’s 92F out, I’m wearing pink gym shark shorts and a black bra from alo yoga. My hokas are worn down, and my Nike socks are covered in dirt.

I head back towards home, then I see Matt’s car isn’t there. He doesn’t park in the garage so I’m guessing he’s just out drinking his emotions away.

“Meet me at the green marble.”

I never him saying to the stranger.

I reverse my car out of the driveway and I head to the lake.

“You actually came.” He laughed. Matt got up, wiped his hands on his shorts.

“How many girls asked to take a picture.” I laugh.

My mom used to tell me, “sometimes you just have to be the bigger person, let the other person think they have won the argument, but really, letting them move on is the best win. Forgetting and forgiving is the best gift you can do for yourself, and especially in big moments and relationships you’ll have when you’re older.” I think about it taht all the time.

Does it work? Oh yeah. It sure does. Matt falls for it all the time.

Ms I doing it right now? Of fucking course I am.

Do you know how some people say that men push away their emotions? Yeah Matt is distant, and I want him to be more open. He just gets insecure.

~ after the beach ~

Matt tried to shower with me, and i was okay with the thought of us showering together again. Until, “bubs, the hamper is full again.” He spoke to me. He looked at me like I was the only one who was capable of doing siad laundry.

“Okay.” I stared at him. I didn’t shower. I put on pjs instead. While Matt showered I packed a go bag, you never know when you need it.

I stored the bag by the shoes downstairs. I ran back upstairs to lay in bed.

“Matthew. We need to talk.” I mumbled when Matt came into bed. He leveled his head to mine and pulled me closer to him. My back still facing his front I pull my hands towards my face. Covering my face from any chance that I could cry.

“What do you want ti talk about?” He asked and kissed my cheek. He lay back down on his back and sighed.

“I wnat you. I all of you, you here in New York with me.” He voiced.

I told him before he got drafted- when we were still friends, that I didn’t wnat him to leave. You know what he did? He left for New York anyway.

“I made a decision. You aren’t going to like.”

“Y/n. I love you, I will come to your senses.” He laughed. He thinks my words are jokes.

Before I tell him I am leaving, I get up. Sitting up straight, getting out of bed. I made this decision about for seconds after packing my go bag, “Matt, I love you. I also love myself, and- I… I wnat to go to Wyoming.” I stutter and I see him sit up. Without hesitation he looked at me like I was a piece of garbage.

“No. Y/n this is something we talk about together.” He shouted at me. Spot flies out of his mouth.

“It’s my job, they offered me a really nice deal, they house me for a year and that’ll get me enough money to buy a nice house. I’ll be able to pay everything off my name.” I present him the idea of me being successful.

“No.” He lays back down, thinking I’ll say okay, and sit with him in bed again.

That’s not what happened.

“If you leave right now, we’re done. Yiu hear me? If you leave the room, we are not a thing, we are breaking up if you go sleep on your car, or sleep in the guesthouse.” He adds before I stepped out of the room.

I left. I grabbed the door before leaving and I ran.

I shoved my bag into my backseat, I had extra clothes, I had snacks, my work cell, blankets, my personal belongings I was okay to sleep in my car for atleast three days.

It’s been a year without Matt.

It’s been a year without me.

When I was driving to a friends house to spend the night, I never made it.

A drunk driver had hit my car, I came flying out. Following that, another driver had ran a red light, running me over.

I had six broken ribs, a fractured wrist, I tore my meniscus and my acl from landing on the pavement.

When Matt came driving behind me looking for me, it was only after Sarah- my friend I was going to spend the night, with called him.

“Hey Matt, um, y/n didn’t make it to my house. She said you guys are getting in it and needed a place ti stay. It’s been an hour since she said she’s on her way, it only takes 15 minutes to get to my house.”

“Okay? Maybe traffic?” He answered.

“No Matt, you’re not listening, it’s 2:07 in the morning. There is no traffic, we’re in the suburbs, no one is up right now except drunk drivers, I have something in the oven because I thought she would wnat a dinner but she never made it.” Sarah sounded sacred she couldn’t leave.

“Okay fine. I’ll go looking for her.”

“Matt, it was always going be you looking for her. If I went out for her, she would have left you.”

I was on the cold black pavement waiting for someone to come get me. I couldn’t move. My lungs are crushing, my car is broken, the drivers taht and hit me all drove away. So much pain is going through my body it feels like nothing is happening.

I took a different way then I normally would have taken, just in case Matt came looking for me.

“Matt..” I kept whispering. I’m bleeding everywhere. My head is cracked open. My arm is twisted in ways it shouldn’t be.

I try rolling over, I could not get on my side, but before I feel back down, I felt my stomach. My actually guts. My actual organs were in my hands. I rolled back down in the cold now flooded with blood road.

I see a car roll up towards me. I know that car.

“Matt?” I cough out blood. I can’t see.

“Baby?!” He called 911.

He curled over me. Putting pressure onto my open wounds.

I know better than to pass out, but I give up. I felt my heart beat slow and I fell asleep.

Alseep forever.

At the hospital I was out in machines to stay alive. There was 5% taht I would wake up again, but I would not be able to function the way I could before the crash.

Matt stayed with me for days, he never left the hospital grounds he was always there, he showered at home but that was only during non visiting hours.

He would talk to me.

“I know baby.”

“It’s okay. I know you.”

“You can go. I’ll be here doing this for you.”

“I know you.”

#jocelynscrazyideas #hockey #nhl #new york #nyr #ny rangers #new york rangers #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe #matt rempe fic #mr73 #🍇🍇🍇

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hanrinz · 1 year

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ SUMMERTIME CONFESSIONS — RIN ITOSHI

wherein summer comes to be more special than it was before.

summer heat has always been something rin hated. even more when he's out for practice, the scorching sun burning his skin as he runs under it. at the end of the day, it's searing rays seize down with him sweaty and tired.

and sometimes he thinks it's just down right hell to attend practice, when it's this time of the year. he wonders how he's still alive in this sweltering heat.

but even in this unforgiving hot weather, there are things rin likes. for instance, the ice cream he always had with you after a grueling day, with the sun setting painting streaks of oranges in the sky like a beautiful canvas and with a gentle breeze coming to caress his face washing away all the warmth he feels.

surprisingly enough, you always lose every single time.

with you complaining at the end of it about how it is so unfair and then proceeding to break it in half just so it wouldn't give you a 'bad luck', claiming that he only won this time and you'll definitely win the next. it has him looking so smug, and never fails to annoy you so much. looking at his ice cream stick with so much loathing, when you see the engrave 'winner' in it.

yeah, rin likes when he's out in the sun with you.

he also likes walking home with you, even if he would never admit it to your face. your head is already big enough for you to know he doesn't mind when you would talk endlessly. he wouldn't want you to know that he likes hearing your voice so much either.

or when you ask him for a piggyback ride that he always never seems to decline, even after a tiring day at practice.

so it's true, rin did like a handful of things especially when he's with you.

this time is no exception either, as he walks down on the same road from his childhood days, with you at his back lazily swinging your legs and your arms around his shoulders as you chatter away his ears off about your day.

and he only hums at you, absentmindedly. because this was all normal, this was all too familiar. nevermind about the way your hair is tickling his face or how he feels a little warm, and he doesn't know if it was from the heat or your presence alone.

because all rin knows is..

"i didn’t mean to fall for you."

and time stops, the breeze seizes its gust and he standstill at the pavement, near the playground where your memories lie together. maybe it was all too familiar to him, at the same place where he first met you.

and he doesn't look for an answer, neither did he expect you to say anything. but you do always love to prove him wrong, don't you?

"and neither did i."

"…fucking pardon?"

you only let out a small laugh. are you serious right now? jumping off his back, as you slowly saunter right in front him.

"for someone who is one of the smartest people i know, you can be really stupid sometimes." you pointed out, as if you knew. like you already knew and you just stayed silent all this time. you turn your back on him as you walk off to the playground, sitting down on the swing.

and you did. rin itoshi was never good at feelings and you know that enough after six years of friendship with him.

if he ever knew how much you try not to get caught up with your feelings for him, will he be more open about how he feels? you don't let yourself think too much about it.

and you didn't really hide your feelings much for him too. you wonder if he can feel your heart beating out of your chest whenever he's with you, when he holds your hand, or when he gets too close to you, or just how every moment with him has you falling all over for him and you might never show it, but rin itoshi did affect you, quite a whole lot if you're being honest.

you don't know what, if there's something that gets better than this.

you have that stupid smile on your face again. and he hates the way it has the tip of his ears colored in the shade of a rose, as if he's the only one feeling like a mess right now.

and maybe it was really all bound to happen anyways, because there is nothing that could ever be bound to be more than you, or anyone he wants to be with other than you.

rin itoshi likes a handful of things and maybe he just likes you a little bit more.

◞♡ likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! omg finally this is out of my drafts

#roses ‘r rosie #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi fluff #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin #blue lock x you #blue lock fluff #blue lock

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gor3sigil · 2 months

Text

About being a freak, queer, trans etc.

In all the years I've spent going back and forth with my gender, being sure one day and unsure the next about how I wanted to present, if I wanted to be more fem or masc, if I wanted to be neither of them, there's one thing that I never wished: I never wished to be born cis.

There's something so magical in being trans. To me it's like a never ending childlike wonder of myself and others. I see my body as a white canvas I can do anything with and as a playground for me to explore and find secrets at every turn. It's shedding so many times that I had hundreds of silhouettes and I'm not even 30. It's seeing the most deepest and honest smiles when you hang out with your peers, and they're fully themselves and you are fully yourself even if it's just for one moment.

Being trans is being more naked than ever. My understanding of my own flesh at its core like I'm dissecting it once a year is so whole and complete. Noticing the patterns, the intricate map of my skin, how it grows and stretch with every change even well before HRT as I was practicing new poses and expressions and clothes.

I don't see myself as a flower, I see myself as a whole garden, with bees and critters everywhere, bursting with life in the warmth of the sun under a sky as blue as the cleanest seas.

Regarding the way others see me, mind you, I always was, and I mean ALWAYS, all my life, seen as a freak.

Try to picture this, even tnough you maybe can because this is the story of a whole bunch of us: growing up as a goth, queer and undiagnosed autistic girl, in a little shitty town, the last child of a family of disabled and neurodivergent folks that everyone saw as a family of, well, freaks. The teachers at school knew your brother who was bullied, and your sister who always caused troubles. They don’t know which of these paths you’re going to take but they sure as hell don’t like you. And the only other queer kids you know are a couple of girls who’d chugg down vodka before class in middle school because they were not accepted at home and bullied during recess.

My first queer relationship, also in middle school, was the typical “I loved her to the moon and back but she only wanted to experiment” and it tore down my soul. It took me years to recover from this. I think that, apart from my longest relationship to date, I never put that much of myself into someone I loved. But she was just goofing around and I mean, fair, we were kids, but man did it hurt. I resented her for years after. Now I just hope she’s happy and doing the job she always dreamed of doing.

Anyways, all that to say that I was used to being seen as an outcast. I hated that for years and tried and tried again and again to fit in. It doesn’t work. Because this in not the answer. Remember when I said that my family members were always all disabled ? My father espacially was physically disabled (and probably also autistic but undiagnosed), and he’s still to this day one of the most ableist person I’ve ever met. He knew his kids weren’t “normal”. He fought tooth and nails for us to fit in. Because that’s how he survived. But despite it all, it never worked. Because you can’t force your way into society’s standards.

I never felt more free than when I just gave up trying to. If I was going to be seen as weird anyways, might as well go all the way. Dress as I please, date who I wanted (another story for another time but it didn’t go as planned), enjoy the shit I enjoyed, unapologetically. And guess what ? It stopped the bullying. Because I gained confidence in myself and most of all, pride. I grew proud of being an outcast, so much so that people just started to be like “well, they’re like that anyways” and left me the fuck alone.

I’m rambling lmao but I think it’s important to be aware that nobody will live your life for you. Being your weird self, it’s so hard, butn so rewarding. More rewarding than anything. You’ll start making new relationships based on you TRUE self, you’ll go all the way for your passions, and trust me, you’ll be more free than anyone who bent themselves to fit in the mold and still need to painfully stretch their limbs everyday to keep the act on.

I know that sometimes it’s something you have to do to survive, and that’s perfectly okay. But don’t forget to keep your true self close and to let them out from time to time, okay ? Water down your inner garden. That’s the only way you will truly live.

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sweetiesicheng · 4 months

Text

jeonghan - playground

word count : 591

"y/n?"

you looked down from looking at the nighttime sky and saw jeonghan standing a few feet away from you.

"oh, hello," you quietly greeted him.

he walked over to the empty swing next to you and sat down on it. you noticed a drink in one hand, most likely from one of the nearby convenience stores. he gripped one of the chains of the swing with his other hand.

"how have you been?" he asked you.

"i've been...alright," you answered, looking down at the ground in front of you. "have you been well?" you asked him.

"for the most part."

the two of you had broken up a few months ago, and you rarely communicated with each other afterwards. the last time you most likely texted him was on his birthday. you two had broken up on good terms, but you ended up just never attempting to communicate with him again. it was kind of awkward, considering how you two had many shared friends and other acquaintances.

it's sad to think you haven't talked to him. you always wanted to, but you never wanted to bother him. you never knew if he was talking to someone else…

"it's funny, us running into each other here," jeonghan said to you. you looked over at him, "at the place where we first met.” he took a sip of his drink and glanced over at you, “how's your sister?"

the two of you had first met back in high school. he was with a group of friends cutting through the playground while you were watching your younger sister, who was in elementary school at the time, playing on the playground equipment. one of jeonghan's friends, hoshi, had bumped into you, and jeonghan had helped you back up.

"we both live nearby. it's only natural to come here every so often," you said to him. "my sister, she's good. she's abroad right now and having fun," you mentioned. then, you stood up, "i'm going home. it was nice seeing you," you quickly said to him.

"wait."

just as you were about to take a step, jeonghan spoke up.

"can i tell you something?" he asked.

you turned to look at him, putting your hands in your pockets since you were starting to get cold.

"y/n, i..." he trailed off, clearly conflicted to speak. "y/n, i come here because i miss being with you and coming here reminds me of you," he spoke, admitting feelings that he evidently wanted to hide at first. "i usually come in the middle of the night when i can't sleep, but i just..."

you stared at him, realizing something.

"sorry for keeping you from leaving. you should—"

"i come here because i miss you too, jeonghan," you spoke, interrupting him. you laughed, trying to not make things feel so awkward, "we ended it on good terms, but how come i'm so sad?"

jeonghan got up and walked over to you. once he was close enough to you, he pulled you into his arms.

"i love you."

you hid your face in his chest with tears streaming down your face.

"this is when you're supposed to say it back to me."

"how can i say it while i'm crying?!" you yelled at him, very muffled but jeonghan got the gist of it.

he pulled away a little and started wiping your tears.

"wanna come over? we can talk about this," he asked you.

you nodded your head. "can we get a snack first?"

"absolutely. come on."

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lovemyavatar · 2 years

Text

STAR GIRL

| Lo’ak x F!Avatar Reader |

summary: training begins, you attempt to make peace with your old and new lives, but finding balance proves difficult

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Neteyam still kinda sucks, pretty long

dialogue in italics is Na’vi translated to English

chapter three chapter five

Chapter Four

Your feet have gotten tougher.

You can run faster, for longer. It still doesn't compare to even the children in the clan, but it's progress.

The feel of big ears twitching against your head is still foreign. They flick from side to side, trying to decipher the endless sounds emanating from the forest. You weave through the trees, leaping over fallen logs and overturned roots. The ground is warm, firm beneath bare feet.

Suddenly, Lo'ak jerks to a halt in front of you. Your chest hits a toned back, the air leaving your lungs from the impact. A curious gaze flicks over his shoulder, lips parting to ask what's wrong, but he lifts a hand to silence you. His ears shift as his head turns from side to side slowly. He's listening, you realize, waiting for something.

A moment later, a small figure bounds through the brush. You lurch back, heart in your throat. Lo'ak takes a large step to the side, arm extended to shield your body with his. You peer over him, tight muscles relaxing when you see a familiar face.

“Where are you guys going?” Tuk beams up at the two of you, bouncing on her toes.

Lo'ak lets out a rough breath, shoulders dropping. His fingers don't move from where they curled around your bicep protectively. “None of your business.”

You're quick to shove an elbow into his side, breaking free of his hold and stepping around his broad shoulders. You can't help but return his sister's smile. Her endless positivity is contagious.

“We’re going on an adventure.” You tease, ducking down a bit to meet her eyes.

They instantly widen, small mouth dropping open in wonder. Lo'ak's face rolls toward the sky, eyes pinching tightly. That's the worst thing you could've possibly said. Now, she'll never leave the two of you alone.

“I wanna go, I wanna go, I wanna go!” Her high-pitched voice echoes through the trees. Some kind of animal calls out before scurrying away, leaves rustling in its wake.

“No.” His response is firm, immediate.

“I’ll tell mom!” Her little brow furrows, fists clenching at her sides.

“Mom’s the one who sent us, crybaby.” Lo'ak mimicks her whiny tone, head dipping to accent the insult.

Her face scrunches even tighter, nose wrinkling in a tiny hiss. “Penis face!”

A hand comes up to cover your lips, stifling the surprised gasp and laughter that bubbles in your chest.

“Go home. Or I’ll tell mom.” All amusement is gone from his voice as he barks out the order.

Your lips roll inward, gaze flicking between the two siblings. You have to assume this kind of argument is normal. Not only are you an only child, but you were never exposed to kids your age while growing up. Petty disagreements like this just weren't a part of your universe. Sometimes, the Sully's interactions seem harsh to you, though it's obvious they have a deep love for one another.

Tuk's tongue pokes through her lips in defiance, tiny fists still clenched as she turns to stomp away. Once she disappears from view, Lo'ak shakes his head with a sigh.

“Sorry, she's so annoying.” His eyes meet yours apprehensively, as if afraid you'll be upset with him.

“I think she just wants to be like you.” Your voice soothes encouragingly, fingers lightly smoothing down one of his arms.

She's just a child, doing what children do. You've noticed that sometimes, there doesn't seem to be much room for childhood within the clan. Of course, they're allowed to run and play. The forest is like one huge playground, obstacles and adventure around every corner. It's probably heaven for any kid.

But in the same breath, they're expected to contribute to the clan as any other member would. They hunt, practice archery, have chores around Home Tree. Even Tuk always has her dagger slung across her chest, a pointed weapon she carved herself from the wing claw of an Ikran.

She isn't always given permission to be a child, and it tugs at your heart. It's why you're softer with her, despite the way the rest of the family seems to treat her as an equal.

“That's worse.” Something dark flickers behind Lo'ak's eyes as they meet yours. In an instant they're gone, his arm slipping from your gentle hold.

He walks forward, expecting you to follow. You can't help but study his retreating back for a moment before complying. He has these moments, these little flashes of emotion, where he exposes his inner turmoil. He's always quick to squash them, tell a joke or convince you to play a game as a diversion. But you see him, see through the tiny glimpses he's given you.

He's hurting, holding onto a source of pain that continues welling inside. If he doesn't open up to someone, you fear, it'll eat him up until nothing else is left.

Eventually, your feet scurry to catch up. The two of you walk in comfortable silence for several minutes. Subtle glances confirm the gradual unfurling of tense muscles until he's back to the upbeat Lo'ak you've come to expect.

You arrive at a dense section of trees, littered with thick vines. They almost consume the rough bark, twisting and curling all the way up into the leaves at the top. Wordlessly, Lo'ak hoists himself up onto a low hanging branch. Once he's climbed another two levels, he extends a hand down to you.

Several minutes later, your sore feet catch on a huge vine. Your chest heaves from the exertion of climbing up such a tall tree. Beside you, Lo'ak's breathing is completely even, unphased by the effort. He turns to face you, arms still connected to yours from the final pull he'd used to get you up.

Long fingers tickle the underside of your forearms as he helps stabilize you. His lips pull into a wide grin, eyes twinkling with something mischevious.

“Ready?”

“For?” Your voice is pointed with confusion, he hasn't told you what you're up here to do.

He starts slipping away, walking backward slowly, and you panic. Your fingers dig into his arms as they tighten, fear straightening your spine. Wide eyes flick up to his in question. The only response you get is another dazzling smile.

“You're it.” He practically rips his arms from yours, skipping several large steps away from you.

“Lo'ak!” His name is a desperate plea as a gasp rips up your throat. Your arms flail to the sides, body wobbling for several long moments before finding stability once again.

You look at him incredulously and he laughs. The skxawng (idiot) has the nerve to stand there, now too far to help if you fall, and laugh.

“Come on, tag me back.” He walks backward without a care in the world, as if he isn't hundreds of feet in the air.

A trembling breath leaves your lungs and you realize you're shaking. You've never been particularly afraid of heights, but you've also never been forced into a tight-rope act above massive treetops. A gulp scratches down your throat as you lean to the side carefully, gaze barely rounding the vine when Lo'ak's rough voice makes you lurch upright.

“Don't.” He says sternly, head shaking. “Don't look down. Just look at me, and trust that your body knows what to do.”

You instantly obey, something about the deep cadence forcing your eyes to meet his. He nods encouragingly, beckoning you closer with playful fingers.

Slowly, one foot lifts. You squash the rising urge to look down, holding your gaze steady with his. When skin meets rough bark, a fraction of tension releases. You do it again, and again. Tiny, cautious steps until you've almost reached him.

When you're mere inches apart, he bounces several long steps away, putting more space between you. Your eyes narrow and you stop, arms moving up once again to keep yourself upright.

“Now do it like you mean it.” Long arms cross over a broad chest, looking every bit his father when he gives the same command.

Despite steadily rising irritation, you know this is what he's supposed to be doing. He's teaching you, pushing you past the point of comfort so you can learn the Omatikaya way.

Your eyes fall closed for a brief moment, simply absorbing the input around you. The strength of the wood beneath your feet, the call of Ikran and other flying creatures in the sky above. Wind caresses your exposed skin, but you suddenly feel more stable.

In an instant, your eyes pop open and you run.

You don't stop until you crash into him. He's ready for you, waiting with open arms. They wrap around you instantly, keeping the two of you upright. A victorious laugh echoes through the trees as your face turns toward the sky. You can't help but throw your arms behind his neck, excitement making your heart soar.

“I did it!” You shout, and he beams.

Glittering yellow eyes meet, heat surging in your chest. Lo'ak's heart thrums against his ribs harshly, and he pulls away, afraid you'll be able to feel it.

Each time you accomplish a new feat, pride swells within him as if he's done it himself. The fact that he's the one that gets to teach you, gets to watch you learn how to thrive in the clan, it still feels too good to be true. It's like a shiny new present every day, a tiny reminder that he doesn't have to be the family screw up. That he can still do something good.

You don't stop running the whole way back to Home Tree. Now that you've faced this fear, proven to yourself that your body is capable, you move with a gentle swiftness. Lo'ak is still faster than you, but you've started closing in on his back, a surety in your steps that wasn't there before.

The moment you enter the bustling center of Home Tree, curious heads turn. Lo'ak watches you shrink, the carefree version of you it seems only he gets instantly dormant. His chest tightens, and before he can think better of it, he's grabbing your hand, pulling your attention away from the crowd.

“Hey, meet me at our spot tonight? After eclipse?” Hooded eyes watch you hopefully.

The words barely register over the echo of our spot, our spot, our spot in your mind. Something flutters in your stomach, a soft smile wiping away any brewing anxiety. A small nod is all the confirmation he needs to bound away, practically skipping with each step.

Change is difficult.

At times, seemingly impossible.

When you were still you, things were different. You woke up at the same time every morning, stared at the unobtainable beauty of Pandora from behind a thick window, and studied the world you thought you’d never fully experience.

Now, you have a front row seat. And it still somehow isn’t enough.

“Damn, did you get taller?” Meg’s beaming face appears as she shoves the heavy lab door open.

“Ha-ha.” You duck through the tight space, eyes flicking over the area quickly.

Sometimes, you just have to confirm that it’s still here. That this part of your life still exists in some capacity.

It’s been a week since you've had the chance to visit. With Jake and Mo’at constantly on your tail, it’s nearly impossible to find the time to sneak away. It’s nearly lunchtime now, and the clan is distracted by the meal preparation. You figure you have about an hour before someone notices you’re gone.

Your gaze settles on a collection of boxes near the far corner, back straightening with excitement. “Another shipment?”

Meg nods, her smile widening. She practically runs toward the goods. When you still worked and lived here, it was never a given that you’d receive the supplies necessary to keep going. When you did, it was always a cause for celebration.

“It’s a good one too. They sent plenty of food this time, and a bunch of new equipment.” She digs through a large box quickly, head disappearing behind the material.

“And look what finally came in.” Something small rests in her open palm as she skips toward you.

Your eyes widen at the sight of the small necklace and matching ear piece. You pinch it between large fingers and bring it closer for inspection.

“Have you tested it?” Your eyes flick to hers, wide with anticipation.

“Yeah, they work great. The range is incredible.” She turns suddenly, as if just remembering something. “Oh! And I finally found your journal. You had a damn good hiding spot this time.”

You fiddle with the neck microphone, lips pulling into a small smile. The lab has been waiting months to get these in. They're a great resource when out on the field, allowing everyone to maintain contact even from far distances.

Now, more than ever, you're grateful for the arrival. It's a lifeline, something to provide some stability—maybe even some comfort—if you aren't able to make it to the lab. Meg approaches you slowly, pulling your hands outward so she can place the bound pages of your journal into them.

“We're okay, Y/N.” Her gentle voice pulls your attention back to her. Your eyes meet hers, uncertainty clawing at your chest. “You've been dreaming about this your whole life. I just...I don't want to to worry about us.”

Your stomach twists uncomfortably. Her encouraging words sounding a lot like a thinly veiled we don't need you anymore. You fight a frown, instead forcing your lips into a small smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

She shakes her head, a wide grin taking over her features. “Anyway, enough serious shit. Tell me all about your adventures.”

You sit with her for awhile, spilling every detail possible. Your heart sings at the familiarity, the comfort of gossiping with someone you've known your whole life. Someone who practically raised you. But still, there's a small voice in the back of your head, whispering that it just isn't the same. That it will never be the same again.

Wide eyes trail the gradually eclipsing sun, a silent curse forming on your lips. Jake and Mo'at are definitely wondering where you are by now, something you really wanted to avoid. It was difficult to leave Meg, to leave the comfort of the past, and you ended up staying much longer than planned.

When you're at the last turn before reaching Home Tree, something barrels through the brush, slamming into your side. You stumble, legs buckling, the small leather satchel Meg gave you to carry your things tumbling from your shoulder. It clatters to the dirt, contents spilling everywhere.

“Shit, sorry.” A familiar voice murmurs, instantly crouching to pick up the items.

“Kiri?” The name raises in question as you bend to her height, grabbing your journal first.

She hasn't missed meal preparation once since you've been here, always following her father's orders to aid the elders around the raging fire in the center of the gathering area. That, plus the fact that she was running through the forest in such a frantic way, has you wondering what she's been up to.

“Oh, hi Y/N.” She chirps, back straightening under your scrutinizing gaze. Her eyes flick to yours briefly before returning to the microphone and earpiece in her upturned palm. “What is this stuff?”

“Oh, it's really cool. That necklace there is a microphone. You, ah, you talk into it and then you put that thing in your ear so you can—”

“Wait, these are sky people machines?” Her head suddenly snaps up, narrowed glare slicing through you.

You sputter silently for a few seconds, thrown off by her change in demeanor. “Well, yeah. It's not dangerous or any—”

“Y/N, you cannot have this here.” She hisses, glancing through the bushes and into Home Tree where the clan bustles.

Confusion pinches your brows. You hadn't even thought about it being a problem. Maybe the clan isn't as open to technology as you'd hoped.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean any harm...” Your hand extends toward her, hoping she will return it at least. You really need a way to keep in touch with the lab.

One of her ears twists to the side, just before her head follows. Her eyes blow wide in alarm, and she hastily grabs your bag off the ground. She shoves the necklace and earpiece inside before slamming it into your hands and jerking to her feet.

“My father is coming. You cannot tell him you have this, or that you have been to see the sky people.” Her voice falls to a rushed whisper, tightened with anxiety as you rise to stand beside her.

“Wha—why?” Your heartrate doubles, confusion and alarm fighting between your ribs. The slight panic clouding her eyes worries you.

“He would not understand. None of them will understand. Please, Y/N, if you wish to stay here you will not—”

“Kiri!” Her name is a sharp rumble as a large figure approaches.

She straightens, muscles instantly rigid. She gestures to your satchel and you sling it over your torso, sliding the bag behind your back just as a tall shadow breaks through the foliage.

“Where have you been, baby girl? And have you seen—Y/N. There you are.” Jake comes to a halt before you both, expression softening at the sight of his daughter in once piece.

“Sorry, dad. Got a little lost.” Kiri's big eyes blink up at him innocently, and he melts with a rough sigh. Something passes between them, an unspoken message that has you wondering if the excuse isn't meant literally.

“And you? I thought I asked you not to go out on your own.” A tinge of that authority he seems to use on everyone but his two daughters returns, his voice deepening with cautious disapproval.

He's given you few rules since being invited into the clan. Keep your head up, don't cause trouble, and stay near Home Tree unless accompanied by an escort. Although well intentioned, it's suffocating. You aren't used to such communal living, where little to no alone time is normal. You need room to breathe, or you'll end up blowing up at someone and causing a scene. And that would mean breaking another of his rules.

Your lips part, ready to spill out some random words that may or may not get you into more trouble, but Kiri beats you to it.

“She was with me.” One of her arms lifts, moving to the side to cover you as if it would protect you from her father's wrath.

A large hand swipes down his face, eyes tightening in irritation. His head tilts back, a long breath releasing through pinched lips. He spares a quick glance over his shoulder before his attention returns, flicking between you both.

“Alright, but I don't want anymore of this sneaking off crap.” He points an admonishing finger at you, then moves it toward Kiri. “If your mother asks, you're grounded for two days.”

A grin splits her lips and with a playful roll of her eyes, one of her arms loops through yours. She pulls you forward, jumping up to land a quick kiss on Jake's cheek with a quiet thanks, dad as her parting words. You squeeze her hand in silent gratitude once you're past him, and she shoots you a knowing look.

It's all you need to know as she separates from you, going her own way toward the Tsahik tent. You clutch your bag, sliding it back around to the front of your body, off toward your hammock to find a suitable hiding spot.

Fingertips poke at your scalp tenderly, a pained hiss leaving your lips.

It's been a few hours since your hair was tightly wound into fresh braids, and the throb hasn't yet subsided. The moment you reentered the busy center of Home Tree, Neytiri approached you. At first, weariness tightened your stomach, but her usual harsh glare had simmered to a dull irritation.

She told you it was time for braids, having noticed that keeping your loose strands tangle free had become nearly impossible. There was little time for a morning routine within the clan, as Neteyam waited impatiently to bring you to breakfast every morning. Your hair had turned into a cluster of mats, which the women of the clan none-too-gently combed out before weaving it into thin beaded strands.

“Lo'ak is so mean.” A small voice whines beside you, tiny shoulders slumping.

You can't help but chuckle, turning to place a gentle reassuring hand over hers. “I’m sorry you couldn’t come with us today, Tuk. He means well.”

The two of you are perched on a rock near what remains of the crackling fire. Light dances across the youngest Sully's forlorn expression as she pulls her hands from yours, instead clasping them together in her lap.

Most of the clan has turned in for the night, the sun's eclipse nearly complete. After finishing your meal, you enjoyed a few moments of peace before she totted her way over and plopped down beside you.

Her little nose scrunches in displeasure. “They always have fun without me.”

“How about the next time I go on an adventure, you can come with?” You peer down at her kindly, watching as she unfurls, a surprised grin splitting her lips.

“Really?” Her voice rises hopefully, and you can't help but smile.

Your lips part to assure that you'd love to hangout with her, but a rough voice interrupts.

“Tuk.” Her name is a sharp warning spit through clenched teeth.

Neteyam approaches, braids swaying with his hurried pace. She yelps beside you, jumping up from the rock. She lands behind it and crouches low, grabbing your shoulders to hide behind you as if he hasn't already seen her.

“I’m hanging out with Y/N. She’s my friend, ‘Teyam. I don’t care what you say!” Her voice squeaks, tone harsh.

Your eyes pop wide, unsure how to respond to the situation. You let her drag you from side to side as her brother steps to your right, then left trying to grab her.

“Home. Now. It’s bedtime.” He growls the command, coming to a halt directly in front of you. If his tight shoulders and clenched fists are any indication, he's already tired of her games.

You pat one of her hands lightly, eyes catching on his heated glare.

“It's okay, Tuk. I'll see you tomorrow.” Your voice is gentle as you tear your gaze away from his, murmuring the words over your shoulder.

She stands up sharply, letting out a little hiss at her brother. “You're meaner than Lo'ak!”

She stomps away with tightened fists, grumbling something under her breath. Your head shakes with slight amusement. She is definitely her mother's daughter. Neteyam turns to watch her, attention only returning to you once she's disappeared into the Sully family tent across the clearing.

“Stay away from my sister.” His jaw clenches, hardened stare boring into you.

Your back straightens, irritation bubbling in your stomach. With few others around, a surge of confidence rolls through you. He's been nothing but rude since the moment you met him, and it's starting to grow old. The constant glares and insults have kept you on high alert, nervous to make any mistakes for fear of retaliation.

“She just wanted to talk.” You explain evenly, hoping to keep the conversation cordial.

“She does not need to be talking to you.” His scrutinizing gaze sweeps down your form before flicking back up to your face.

Your skin warms with rising anger. Pressure mounts in your chest until you simply snap under the weight, unable to handle it for a second longer.

“Do you hate me just because of your mother, or are you capable of forming your own opinions too?” Your gaze sharpens to match his.

Normally, you would never dare speak out of turn to the future Olo'eyktan. But no one is around, and he's purposely provoking you. You've done nothing but try to fit in since the moment Mo'at extended her invitation, and yet, his opinion hasn't wavered.

His chin lowers, eyes narrowed into a deadly glare. He grinds his teeth for a long moment, lips twisting as if mulling over what he'll say next.

He never gets the chance as Jake emerges from their tent, eyes instantly falling on the two of you. He calls Neteyam's name sharply, no question having noticed the tension between you. In an instant he's gone, turning on his heel to promptly obey his father's command.

A tight breath slips past your lips, shoulders slumping as you lean forward, elbows resting on bouncing knees. Your head falls into waiting hands, feeling more weight than ever pulling you down.

Bioluminescence blooms beneath your feet with every step.

You leap over upturned roots and stray rocks, weaving your way through dense trees. Chirps and coos echo all around, making you feel a bit disoriented in the low light. You've rarely navigated the forest on your own at night, so it's all a bit unfamiliar. Still, you press on, knowing the destination is near.

Something rustles at your side, your quick strides coming to a halt curiously. Your ears twitch, head turning to watch a kenten (fan lizard) as it emerges from the small patch of bushes only a few feet away. Glowing wings spin it gently in front of your face. It wafts upward, as if propelled by imperceptible wind, disappearing into the trees above.

With a soft smile, you continue on your journey, the steady hum of running water guiding you. In no time you turn the last corner, fingers tentatively pulling back thick vines. Your warm gaze instantly catches on a familiar silhouette, illuminated by the soft glow of the earth.

He's sitting by the water's edge, feet submerged in the pond. You take a moment to study his back as you approach, watching the way toned muscles bunch. His ears twitch against his head just before it swivels toward you.

“You came.” He sighs, a tinge of surprise marring the words.

Your lips pull into an encouraging grin, hand resting on the place between his neck and shoulder. You don't know when this started. When these little touches became a normal part of your relationship. Somehow, over the last several days, the two of you have fallen into a comfortable rhythm. It's unspoken, a slightly deeper connection that's fostered naturally.

Fingertips dance across his skin, following your path to the open spot he's left at his side. He shivers beneath your gentle caress, hands tightening where they're clasped in his lap.

“Of course I did.” Your voice is light, not fully believing that he thought you'd stand him up.

“I have something for you.” He blurts, unable to wait a second longer.

You've barely settled into the earth, feet just dipping into the still water when your attention shifts to him. Big eyes round in surprise, intrigue glistening beneath the dazzling yellow. For a long moment, he's transfixed, eyelids growing heavy as something warms in his chest.

He clears his throat, tearing a lingering gaze away to glance at his hands. He opens them slowly, a sudden nervousness gripping his stomach. Your eyes drop to the bundle of leaves he holds, woven neatly into a small pouch.

He lifts it toward you, the gift resting in an upturned palm. You look from the package to him several times before taking it with some hesitation. He watches you eagerly, attentive gaze drinking in every minute flicker in your expression.

Your fingers move gently to unravel the thin leaves, slowly revealing the present inside. A gasp slips past your lips, one of your hands abandoning the bundle to cover your mouth. Your heart soars, thrumming wildly between your ribs.

“Oh, Lo'ak...” You can't stop looking at it, eyes flickering over each intricate detail.

It's an arm band, expertly woven and adorned with colorful beads. It's thin, light brown twine crossed in a strong pattern meant to last many moons.

“I, uh, I made it...for you.” He scratches the back of his neck, feeling uneasy. He hates that you don't have anything of your own, that all you've been given to wear are old discarded pieces no one else uses. He just wants you to have something that's truly yours, something to make you feel a bit more welcome within the clan.

“It's beautiful.” You whisper, glistening eyes catching his. He fights a smile, a tiny shrug lifting one shoulder. You're both still for a long moment, simply drinking each other in.

He swallows thickly, lower stomach churning. His eyes can't help but drift toward your lips, chest squeezing with an emotion he's recently become familiar with. He's seldom been able to keep you from his mind. His stomach is a mess, all twisted up, his heart racing more than it ever has in his twenty cycles around the moon.

“Put it on me?” Your gentle voice jerks his attention away, and he nods quickly.

He takes the accessory from your hands, winding it around the bicep you've extended out toward him. His fingers begin to shake as he knots the two thin strands he's left at the ends. It fits snugly, not too tight but firm enough to stay put.

“Perfect.” His voice drops to a husky murmur, heart jumping at the sight of his handywork against your skin.

His fingers wrap around your arm gently, thumb rubbing a soothing pattern beneath the twine. Your eyes drift up toward his, breath hitching at the intensity of his heavy lidded stare. His lips part, jaw tensing as his chest lifts raggedly. Your chin dips, one of your new braids falling in front of your forehead.

A tentative hand rises, fingertips ghosting your temple as he gently tucks it behind your ear. Your gaze returns to his, something palpable sizzling in the small space between you. Instead of taking his hand back, his fingers drop, curling around the side of your neck.

Your skin warms in both of the places he holds you. Sharp teeth snag your lower lip, heart fluttering wildly. His eyes instantly snap to the movement, restraint tightening his chest as he withholds a groan. It's all suddenly too much, too intense. The way he's looking at you, like nothing else exists, is overwhelming.

Your gaze drops to your lap, but he's quick to hook a thumb under the edge of your jaw, angling your face back up toward his. Glimmering yellow eyes burn a hole straight through you. Straight through any walls you've attempted to build. It sends a thrill up your spine, a shiver wracking your chest.

You need something to break this tension, something to calm the raging warmth exploding within you. But, even so, a certain apprehension tightens your stomach. His fingers smooth down the side of your neck, silently urging you to act. He trembles with anticipation, though he's hesitant to make the first move. He wants this to be on your terms.

You lean in slowly, planting a soft peck on his cheek. He stiffens beneath you, fingers twitching against your arm. You slide forward a bit more, lips smoothing over his jaw. A quivering breath fans your skin, his head tilting back at the feeling.

“You’re it.” The taunt is a low murmur against his ear, a callback to the game he'd played with you high above the trees earlier that day.

In an instant you pop to your feet, water splashing from the abrupt movement. Lo'ak's eyes jerk open, lips parting in shock. All he can do is sit for several long moments, frozen in place. His jaw is slack, chest heaving, racing heart thrumming against his ribs. He watches as you dart away, quiet giggle floating on the wind.

His lips slowly pull into a huge grin. He lets out a chuckle of disbelief, shaking his head before he's out of the water and chasing after you.

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