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#Hope you enjoy X'3
iimexpensiive · 1 year
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✧ @inmiasma ✧ — (reborn!zha) Little Zha won't say he's envious of the delights of the flesh such as food (or in this caseー alcohol), but surely he's given enough hints right? Like showing up with a fiery open palm and slamming fists rhythmically into your your bar counter? Mercy please? Charity? Would you pour a glass for an old spirit?
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"Can't even spare a please there? Where have your manners gone, young man?"
Teasing tone leaving the Great Sage, easily guessing what the other wished for without having to speak. Soft laughter leaving him at the demand from the Lotus Prince. It was quite a display for sure and one that would draw anyone's ire if they didn't know him like Wukong did. Oh no, he always enjoyed the visits from one of his dearest friends — even if he had a habit of teasing and taunting him whenever he spared him these moments of his presence. He couldn't help himself. Nezha had some of the best reactions to his shenanigans, second only to his dear brother Bajie of course.
Turning his attention from the pounding against the counter of his bar — no fear that it would be damaged in the process. He wouldn't do that to him after all, not after the monkey had put such painstaking hours into his custom set-up. Making sure to snatch the best bottle he had for his companion to serve. He only stocked the finest of alcohol in his bar — none of that cheap and tasteless crap would dare be stored here. Deciding to mix him something special for his visit, one that he knew Nezha would enjoy. Plus, nothing like a little entertainment to go along with your drinking experience.
No sooner had the demand for earthly delights been made by the firey prince was there a glass slide into his hand from the king. A little flourish of a umbrella and flowers added by two of his little monkey clones in process. Both bowing afterwards before darting off.
"How's that? Hopefully it's worthy of the Lotus Prince."
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fastfists · 7 months
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"Happy Birthday, Knuckles!" Sonic's holding a birthday present out to his taller echidna friend. He's trying not to look too excited, but oh he just can't help it! Sonic loved celebrating his friends' birthdays!!
It also belatedly dawned on Sonic, earlier today, just what day they'd chosen for Knuckles' birthday. He wondered yet if Knuckles knew. Maybe Sonic should tell him. It was only fair after all.... Ah well, that could be saved for later!
For now, presents!!
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"Huh — ??"
The guardian had been busy with some of his duties for that day, being distracted when the blue blur made his appearance. Settling the boulder that he had been moving down with a confused look at first — what was he even doing here? Happy birthday?
Oh right! It had completely slipped the echidna's mind that today was his birthday — having chosen the date along side Sonic way back when. It was still a tad new to him, having never really celebrated it more or less. So, it slipped his mind even as the date grew closer and closer.
Leave it to the hedgehog hero though to remember, which wasn't surprising. He had helped Knuckles in picking out the date. His eyes soon settling on the packages in the other's arms as he ran over to him.
"A-Ah, almost forgot w'at day it was — "
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" — don't tell me you went 'n got me present. You know you didn't 'ave t'do t'at 'Nic."
Of course he appreciated the gesture none the less even if a simple 'happy birthday' was just fine by him. Not that he could stop his best friend from doing so. It showed he cared, which warmed the guardian's heart a lot.
"Either way, t'anks."
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theoldkyokodied · 11 months
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good evening bloodweave enjoyers
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jensthwa · 2 months
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show & tell pt. 2 (SMG x reader).
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part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.
SUMMARY:
After the… masterclass you gave Mingi the night before, you’re left anxious on what the future holds for you both. But there’s a pool party you promised you would attend and there’s not really time for you to figure your feelings out before your best friend shows up at your door to drive you to it. So maybe today is not the day to figure your feelings out, right? It’s just a pool party anyways, so nothing out of the ordinary is going to happen… right?
PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.
GENRE: childhood best friends (idiots) to lovers.
WORD COUNT: 11k.
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) anxiety attack, attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit part two ft jongho, a new oc being the voice of reason, reader is clueless and in denial i fear, jealousy, miscommunication, fighting so this part is just a tiny bit angsty :(, confessions, teasing, face sitting, hand job, car sex (don't do it in public people, it can get you arrested), pet names (love and baby), a plot line at the end none of you guys are going to get until my new wip drops but it's worth the wait!
NOTES: hey everyone! thank you so much for patiently waiting for this second and last part to drop. i think that, after this one, if you guys want to request any drabbles or if i come up with some scenarios for this couple i will post them but for now nothing is on the works. what is on the works is a wip that's part of the same universe as this one, so pay attention to the new characters i mention if you want any clues! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: july 28th 2024.
TAGLIST (sorry if i forgot anyone, pls let me know!): @vannerriin / @mingtinysworld / @purple-bell / @bakepotatoman / @nxy3h / @taehyungmami / @nxcxllxsevens / @breadpuddingboys / @hotteokkay
masterlist.
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When you wake the next morning, the consequences of restless sleep show up in your face as a reminder of what happened the night before. 
It's not that you regret it, it's more the fact that you feel so unapologetic about messing with the perfect dynamic you have with Mingi that caused you to toss and turn so much. 
Last night, after putting your duvet back on and then crashing into the mattress feeling all tingly and giddy, you asked yourself a thousand questions. 
The main one being: What the fuck did you do? 
The words kept repeating over and over in your head, your voice of reason (or your anxiety) screaming at you to get your phone and make it right before everything becomes a complicated, unresolvable mess. 
You had a brief moment of panic and heavy breathing, your chest tight with unspoken emotion and your eyes filled with tears. 
It was too much, so you forced yourself up and paced around for what felt like hours trying to get your feet back on the ground. Nothing was working, so you sat down at your desk and rested your forehead against it. 
When you didn't feel the usual coolness of the wood, a comfort sensation for when your studies got the best out of you for the day, and instead felt a pen almost stab you in the eye, you -very confused- leaned back. 
Mingi’s notebook and the pen he didn't put back on the pencil case seemed to stare back at you lovingly instead of mocking you for losing control over your own emotions. 
A sense of peace washed over you when you flipped the pages and landed on the instructions he wrote down. Memories of the amazing years you have had by his side started crossing your mind, like recomforting flashes that allowed your heartbeat to go back to normal: 
The first day you saw Mingi, chasing behind a worned out soccer ball and then kicking it so hard it landed on your lawn. 
The first time you two hugged, when your dad scolded you for having bad grades until you cried in front of him. 
The way he held your hand before heading inside to take the college admission exam, last year of highschool. 
His kind eyes. His reassuring smile. The way he made you feel just a few hours back. 
There's no getting rid of me either, love.
We'll figure it out. 
Letting a few contained tears run down your cheeks, you nodded to yourself as if he was there in the room with you. 
Yeah, you'll figure it out.  
And then proceeded to, very much, not figure shit out for the rest of the night. You could still feel his hands everywhere and hear his voice against your ear whispering how much he knows you and pays attention to you. 
You are fucked. 
It's all you can think about when you get ready for the day. It's all you can think about when you help your dad with lunch and when you let your parents know at the table that you are going out that same afternoon. 
“Mingi is driving you, right?” 
“Yeah…” you whisper in response, eyes focused on one specific spot at the table and mind a million years away from the conversation. 
“Good. He's such a good kid, Y/N, I'm glad he knows how to take care of you.” 
Choking on air when your brain finally catches up to her words, you look back up at your mother in shock “W-what?” 
“Yeah honey, what? Y/N can take care of herself,” your father chips in, unaware of your red cheeks or the honest expression of panic you're giving both of them “She's a big girl that carries around that, uh… What was it?— Ah, that pepper spray I gave her, right?” 
“R-right.” 
He lets out a satisfied see? at your answer, gives you a tiny smile and gets up from the table to take his finished plate over to the sink. 
Your mom stays behind, giving you a look you can't quite read before her usual calm expression washes it away. Only then, you can take a proper, very needed, calming breath. 
“I need to get ready. Thank you for the food.” 
“You made it, dear.” 
“I mean! For taking care of the, uh, plates,” you clumsily correct yourself right away, getting up from the table as well “Love you. Bye!” 
You don't miss the confused giggle on your way to your room and when you're behind closed doors, you finally take into consideration that you might be, in fact, overreacting.
Not much, you think, but just enough to give your feelings away. And it's truly a shame, because you were planning on concealing and bottle everything up until it, inevitably, blows up in your face. 
Maybe not the smartest option. 
If you bang your head against the wall with enough force maybe, just maybe it’ll help—
Someone's texting you. 
> gi: heeeeey > gi: just woke up lol > gi: had the best sleep ever tho > gi: how are you, love? 
Okay. So normal texting it is. Maybe your initial plan of just pretending nothing happened is, coincidentally, Mingi’s plan as well. 
So you type in it's literally almost one, ya lazy and let your thumb hover over the send button, eyebrows creased at a sudden realization. 
The casual texting annoys you. 
Sure, Mingi is used to keeping everything casual between him and the people he sleeps with, but you're not just anyone! You didn't sleep together, either! 
Oh, maybe that's why. 
But it ticks you off either way. 
Is he not feeling the same way you do? Did it mean something different for him than it did to you? What did it even mean to you in the first place?
Why, after all the panic you felt the night before, did you have any sort of expectation for today? 
It doesn't make any sense. 
You hit send. 
> gi: aaaaand?  > gi: god forbid a man gets a good night's rest after being thrown off a bed. 
Scoffing, your eyes roll before you can even control it and, to your demise, the giddiness returns. You respond with did you get hurt? awww and raise a hand to your blushed cheek before sending the message.
> gi: yeah wtf  > gi: my butt is all bruised.  > gi: kiss it better? 
Oh. 
Not casual texting. At. All. 
Or maybe it is? 
Ugh.
Blanking on everything Mingi has ever texted you before, you decide it's best to entertain yourself by getting all pretty to sit around the house party tonight and do nothing else instead of torturing your confused brain any longer. 
Using the help of an emoji to flip him off and, hopefully, gather yourself together enough to get ready, you shoot him another text rushing him to do the same because you don't want to be late. 
And he usually takes forever to get ready anyways.
Showering with very cold water, taking a good thirty minutes to decide whether to wear something comfy and fitting or sexy and fitting for the party do the job when it comes to taking your mind off him for, at least, the time being. 
Yunho was insistent the day before in that you didn't need to bring a bathing suit if you didn't want to, but you pack one anyways because you can sense Wooyoung's and Jongho’s intentions even if the youngest couldn't make it to your impromptu gathering yesterday. 
They know you hate when they get away with annoying you and throwing you into the nearest body of water -in this case, Yunho’s pool- in front of many people you don't know (therefore, you are not going to able to go insane mode on them) seems like the perfect opportunity to get away with it.
The last time they did it you weren't really able to scold them properly either, so they laughed and pointed at you until you threatened to kick their asses in a very dishonest but playful way. 
Mingi, of course, did nothing but laugh along with everyone else and then kiss your forehead as an apology later that day. 
That was last summer and since then both perpetrators have treated you to meals and buttered you up enough for you to forgive (as if you didn't do that the morning that followed the incident) but you never forget. 
Maybe you should. It would make the sight of Mingi parking outside your house easier, you think.
You're sure he's parking outside just to give your dad, who comes out to greet him with a hug, some peace of mind. He's very protective of you and he trusts Mingi even if he gives him a hard time everytime he sleeps over or takes you somewhere.  
Like now, you have a very clear view through your window of the sermon he's giving your best friend. You don't hear it but he's moving his hands in the air way too much for it not to be a clear step by step on what to do if you run into any trouble on the way to Yunho's. 
Mingi likes step by step and he's good at following instructions, so you don't think it's going to be an issue. 
God damnit, Y/N, get it together. 
Sighing, you pick up your bag, check your outfit once in front of the mirror, and rush downstairs and out of the door. 
“You do know how to change a tire, son?” 
Mingi is standing in front of your dad with his hands behind his back and a tight smile. 
“Yes sir, my dad taught me and then at the school they made sure I didn't forget about it.” 
“And make sure to—” 
“Could you let the guy breathe, dad?” 
They both turn to, your dad wears a mocking smile and you see Mingi’s tight one breaks into a genuine one a second later. A grateful one, even. 
He looks really good. Which is insane, considering that to you he looked like Chewbacca just yesterday morning. 
Crazy what a good orgasm can do to a person. Or maybe it's the first time you ever let yourself see him in this light. Either way, he's wearing light wash jeans and a fitted t-shirt that clings to him just right and it's going to drive you insane, you can just feel it. 
“I was just making sure that he—” 
“Knows what to do,” you nod “He knows what he's doing, dad. Stop giving him a hard time,” you give your dad a quick kiss on the cheek and then rush to the passenger seat, giving Mingi a glance so he can get in the car as well. 
“Alright. Love you, take care!” 
“Love you too, Mr. L/N!” Mingi says, getting into his seat and giving your dad the opportunity to see when he fastens his seatbelt. He doesn't say anything else, even though he didn't tell Mingi specifically that he loved him and instead gives you both a nod of approval. 
When Mingi finally drives off your street and into the main one, you sigh in relief. 
“He's neeever going to trust me, huh?” 
“He trusts you,” you say right away, cheek resting against the seat so you can take a proper look at him “I'm his only daughter and you're a man after all. Cut him some slack.” 
“He never cuts me some slack!” he fights back but you just laugh and he can't help but join you “You look really good, by the way. A dress? Are you trying to impress someone?” The tone he uses sparks the remaining tension from the night before, like zero time has passed since he kissed you goodnight by your front door. 
When you got into the car with Mingi, you didn't consider that you two would be alone for, at least, forty minutes before getting to your destination. Your mind skipped the fact that he has this new ability to fluster you by just existing near you and you curse it for not letting you prepare well enough for the way he's looking at you right now. 
“Obviously,” you answer in a whisper, clearing your throat a second later “Wooyoung needs to be distracted so he doesn't tackle me into the pool the second we get there. Don't know if it's gonna work on Jongho, though.” 
Mingi clicks his tongue, baring his teeth and pretending to really think about it “I don't think so, love. You'll have to bribe him into considering dropping their whole summer schtick for you.” 
“You can help me with that.” 
“Can I now?” 
“Yeah. You can just… lock him up in a room and my dress can do the rest of the work.” 
Your best friend laughs and then takes a hand off the steering wheel to roll the hem of your dress in between his thumb and index. His knuckles brush against your thigh and you almost -almost- make a noise at the sensation. 
“It's not the dress, love… It's who's wearing it.” 
A bit of silence passes within the both of you. 
“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 
Laughter fills the car and drowns out the honking on the other side of the street and you wonder why you were worried in the first place. 
Nothing has changed. 
Aside from the intention laced with the flirting, it feels the same way it ever did and you couldn't be more glad because now that you know Mingi doesn't hate you (like you thought for a brief moment last night) or wants to hard launch a relationship that doesn't exist to your friends the second he gets them all together in the same room, you can enjoy the car ride and the evening that's about to follow it.
So you flirt with him freely, listen and sing along to songs that just feel like summer summarized in three minutes of exquisite writing and roll your window down once Mingi takes a turn into an hill, trees replacing the buildings you're so used to seeing. 
Your friend is rich rich. His family makes good money and his parents go on lots of business trips. That being said, it's the first time you actually attend one of his parties, and so when you get to Yunho’s house and ring the doorbell, you’re caught by surprise because you can already hear the loud music playing in the backyard and the blend of new and familiar voices through the thick door. 
You expect him to open the door for you but Seonghwa’s smile is the first thing you see before you and Mingi both have the opportunity to step in. 
“You made it!” 
“It's pretty hard to miss this house, Hwa.” 
Your older friend side-hugs you and stays by your side while Mingi takes it upon himself to put your bags for the day in the pile of other bags next to the door “How are you doing today?” 
You're about to answer but when you look at him, you see him staring at Mingi, so you do too. He's staring at Hwa with a little smile “I'm doing good. I blocked her and everything and I can confidently say that…” he turns to you “My ego’s not bruised anymore.” 
If Seonghwa caughts the spark between you and you best friend, he decides to ignore it “That's goo—” 
“Mingi!” 
What the hell is she doing here? 
Not, not that bitch from yesterday but this girl who Mingi meets with sometimes. You don't really know her, you just know she's gorgeous and that her name starts with an h, maybe? 
She's a fashion major and it shows in the way she's dressed up today. Truly, an enjoyable company whenever she's around at frat parties, a saving grace when you're tired of surrounding yourself with only men. 
Right now? She's your worst nightmare. 
Wrapping her arms around Mingi’s neck and getting on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek, she smiles like she knows she's getting laid tonight and your best friend does nothing to pull her away. 
She doesn't even say hi to you before dragging him to the backyard! You and Seonghwa follow them and when she takes Mingi’s arm and pulls him over to -you assume- introduce him to her friends, you almost stomp your feet like a little kid. 
Trying to get rid of the annoyed frown on your face, you turn to Hwa with a teasing smile and your eyebrows raised. 
“Well fuck me, am I right?” 
“I might!” Arms wrap around your waist and you feel Woo’s chin resting on you shoulder immediately after “That's a very nice dress, Y/N.” 
If Mingi was next to you, like you want him to be, you would give him a I told you so glance. Instead, you just look at Seonghwa with absolute horror before he snickers and goes away. 
“Right? And it looks horrible when it's drenched in nasty chlorine water.” 
“You can't possibly know that.” 
“I know a lot of things and— No! Woo, please don't,” you beg when he lifts you off the ground for a second. Behind you, you hear laughs and, even though you can't see them, you know it's San and Jongho “I just got here and I haven't even changed yet, please.” 
He turns you around and hugs you properly this time before letting you go. You take the opportunity to punch him in the arm and then go over to San and Jongho to do the same. 
“We'll let you get your swimsuit on this time.” 
“You're so considerate, Jong. Seriously, they're going to give you the Nobel prize if you don't stop.” He mocks you, repeating what you just said in a higher pitched voice and you laugh as you sit next to Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend, Gyuri. 
San also has a girl sitting beside him with his arm around her, but you don't really know her so you just wave at her. They're all in their bathing suits already “See how he tried to flirt with me to try to get me with my guard down? He's a monster.” 
“And in front of me, too? The nerve on this guy.” Gyuri, of course, backs you up immediately and you want to return her smile, but you can see Mingi from the corner of your eye and it's distracting. 
“Oh, they're ganging up on me already,” Wooyoung whines, sitting down in front of you both and handing you a drink “It's like my worst nightmare.” 
“He's enjoying it, don't let him convince you otherwise,” San says, getting up from his seat and taking his girl with him “Especially coming from you.” He points at Gyuri and you laugh. 
“We're just friends now!” 
“That's what you told me like three years ago before—” 
Wooyoung gets up to chase after him and San lets go of the girl's hand to try to get away from him. 
Turns out, you're not the one Woo tackles into the pool. This time, him and San crash down on the water hard and a few droplets of water wet your feet. Gyuri laughs and everyone else does too when they realize what's happening. 
Jongho gets up and joins them in the water soon after to try and help (kinda, not really) San escape the wrath of his best friend. 
You almost miss it, because you take the opportunity to look at your best friend and, when you do, he's already looking at you. 
Breath catches on your throat and the lump that forms afterwards has a name and a reason: Mingi is looking at you with so much longing it physically hurts. 
He looks like wants to drop everything and come and confuse your fragile mind even more, just like he did the night before. 
Then why the fuck is he there with whatever her name is and her friends and not sitting right next to you? 
You look away, grasping your drink for emotional support and convincing yourself you're starting to see things that are not actually there. 
“Why the fuck are y'all fighting this time?!” Yunho comes from inside the house and it's the first time you see him today “No choking! No running! It's literally in the rules!” 
“Wooyoung please let go of my boyfriend!” 
Ah. So she is San’s girlfriend. Still, you turn to Gyuri to ask. 
“Who is sh—” 
“San’s new girlfriend, Kyungmi. We don't give a fuck about her or San right now, we're mad at them,” you want to ask who we is, because Wooyoung seems like he's just playing, but she interrupts you again “What the fuck is going on with you and Mingi?” 
Huh?! 
You make a quick mental review of your plan. Conceal? Clearly it didn't work. Bury your emotions deep so no one notices? You probably can't recover from the way you smile just dropped. 
The only thing left on the list is pretend that you're insane, but you're not sure it'll work either. So you turn it on her: “Nothing much. He played Espresso like three times on a row on the way here and I almost kill him, but—” 
“You can't bullshit me, Y/N.” 
Great, that didn't work either. 
“I saw that. Seonghwa did too but he got up before I could convince him to ambush you,” she dramatically sighs, chugging the rest of her drink down “So, what is going on?” 
“Nothing,” that much is true “he's literally with a girl right now.” 
“And she will never mean as much to him as you do. Next.” 
“Gyuri… I really don't know what you want me to say.” 
Squinting her eyes at you suspiciously, Gyuri takes her time before answering and you fidget in your seat a little. Wooyoung liked her for a reason, she's feisty and goes straight to the point and it's something you usually admire but right now it's not the time for her to do this. 
“I just thought maybe it finally happened…” She whispers and shrugs the entire conversation off before getting up “Let's head inside. They're going to start grilling meat at any second and I also don't want to be near Wooyoung when he gets out of there.” She points at him and you laugh. 
Jongho has him in a chokehold and Yunho is trying to separate them while San desperately swims towards his girl that's still waiting for him near the edge of the pool. 
“Sure thing.” 
You pretend you don't feel Mingi's eyes on you as you move. 
This is not unusual. Whenever you all go to parties, hosted by someone inside of the friend group or not, you end up separating from Mingi. 
He does his thing. He's outgoing and he likes dancing while you enjoy conversation and drinking away at the rest of the party, occasionally making out with someone and calling it a night when your social battery runs out. 
So you hang out with Gyuri in the kitchen until the sun starts going down and when the last ray of it disappears you decide it's time to swim a bit before you're too tipsy for it to be safe. 
Grabbing your bag and greeting some new people you don't know at the door, you head up to the bathroom you are told by the host himself it's upstairs. 
When your tying up the strands of your swimsuit, the door slams open and you jump and cover yourself up with your hands because you're not able to finish the job, so the strands fall down and the only thing holding the top part of the fabric it's you. 
“What the fuck, Mingi?” 
Turning around, you're only able to look at him through the mirror. 
“Lock the door next time! What if it was somebody else?” 
“People usually knock!” 
“I didn't mean to scare you, it's the door’s fault,” he makes a fool of himself trying to prove it “See? I— let me help you with that,” he closes the door again and, this time, he locks it before taking a short step and grabbing the strands of your top “It's the second time this week I scare you like that, huh? I’m sorry, love.” He ties the strands together with a secure knot and his apology finally allows your tense muscles to relax. 
You remind yourself that there's no valid reason for you to be mad at him. You'll figure it out, he said it himself, and maybe today is not the day to do so. 
But he's not stepping away once he's finished, he's not even saying anything else before his hands grab your waist and his chest collides to your back. 
Looking at him through the mirror again, you silently ask him with your eyes what he thinks he's doing. He ignores you, bending down so the tip of his nose can trace the skin on the side of your neck. 
“I missed you,” his voice sounds like honey when he says it and you, once again, curse the ability he has to make you crumble “and you disappeared like an hour ago.” 
You let out a sigh. 
“I was in the kitchen, Mingi, not missing and we were in the same space for at least twenty minutes before that and like… forty minutes in a car, together.” You remind him and he frowns “Besides, you were with Ha… Haneul?” 
“Hanni,” he corrects and you huff out a whatever “and she was introducing me to some of her friends that are in the same major as me, just a year over.” 
“Cool.” 
He pecks your shoulder. You do your best to not melt completely into him and fix your hair in the mirror. 
“Y/N…” he starts and you hum in acknowledgement “I missed you.” 
It pisses you off for some reason. The mature thing to do is to let him know but the words that leave you are petty and laced with annoyance. 
“I’m sure you did, buddy.” 
He grins against your skin and you turn around to face him, eyebrow raising. 
“What's so amusing?” 
At your tone, he seems taken aback but his smile stays curving his lips upwards.
“I'm just really happy to have this moment with you,” he says, matter of factly, and you press your hands against his chest to regain some personal space. He doesn't budge an inch “What's going on?” 
He's such a guy sometimes. 
“You're here, kissing my neck, while a gorgeous girl who I'm sure is waiting for you downstairs is probably bragging to her friends about how she's going home with you tonight and—” 
“Y/N, I'm literally taking you home.” 
“I can easily take a car back— Mingi, seriously,” taking a deep breath, you stare at him with all the honesty you can gather “I don't want to do whatever this is if afterwards you're going downstairs to dance and flirt with Haneul or whatever her name is.” 
He looks like he wants to correct you on it again, so you level him with a daring glance. 
He keeps his mouth shut. 
“And I also don't want you to hurt her feelings if you tell her you can't leave with her tonight, so—” 
“I don't give a shit about her feelings, love.” 
“Mingi, don't say that!” 
“I don't! I wasn't flirting with her at all, either! Listen, it's…” he stops to chuckle for a few seconds “I mean, it's adorable that you're jealous but there's no reason for you to—” 
“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 
It's the second time today you have said those exact words to him. The first time, you also felt your heart bang with such force against your rib cage but for a completely different reason. 
“I'm not one of the girls you fuck on the side when you're horny or bored out of your mind. Don't fucking treat me like one.” You warn and suddenly the image of you telling him that teaching him yesterday could mess you both up crosses your mind.  
“I'm not, Y/N! I'm just saying that you look adorable when you're—” 
“Jealous? Why would I be jealous when we are not together, Mingi? I'm literally looking out for the girl!” 
“You don't even know her name, love.” 
“That's not the fucking point!” 
He finally takes a step away from you, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath, surely.
Now you're pissed off because he saw right through you and your words. 
That disgusting weight on your chest you felt back by the pool while you kept staring at him from the corner of your eye? Jealousy. 
Now that he brought it up, it makes sense. 
You hate it. 
You always hated being put in a position where you felt the need to compare yourself to others. Always hated how easy it is for anger to run through your blood and infiltrate every waking thought until it clouds your judgment. 
Because you shouldn't be angry. He just said he didn't care about her feelings. 
And yet, all you can think about is that he spent an hour with her instead of you. 
When he turns to you, there's a storm in his eyes and you just don't want to hear it tonight. 
“Save it, keep it, sleep on it and we'll talk tomorrow,” picking your dress from the spot on the floor it's been sitting all this time, you put the fabric on, take your bag and then unlock the door “I’m going home.” 
You don't give him the opportunity to say anything else before getting out of the bathroom but you do hear a groan when you're rushing downstairs. 
Yeosang and Yunho are just leaving the kitchen when you trip on the last step and the host jogs the few steps to you after laughing. 
“There you are, Y/N. Listen, there's some meat already grilled back there but we're—” 
“I'm actually going home, Yun,” you cut him short “I'm not feeling that well. My plan was to swim a little before leaving but I don't think I can do it.” 
“Did something happen or…?” 
What happened is coming downstairs as he asks. 
“Nope. Nothing, I just think I'm catching a cold or something. Thank you so much for inviting me though!” You hug your friend quickly, kissing his cheek before pulling away. 
“Always…” Yunho is very observant but, as you always do, he doesn't press you with questions about what's going on “He's taking you home?” Pointing behind you, you don't have to turn around to get what he means. 
“Ye—” 
“No. He's having a great time here, I don't want to get in the way,” you shrug “I'll just get an uber or something. Don't worry.” 
Yunho frowns slightly, eyes moving from your face to over your shoulder. 
Immature. Petty. Rude. 
You're sure that's the way you’re coming off right now. But feeling anger bubbling behind the smile you give Yunho, you think it's better they make their assumptions instead of actually seeing you upset. 
You move to hug Yeosang as well and he murmurs his farewell. When you turn around, Mingi is no longer there and you don’t spare a look towards the floor to ceiling glass windows that separate the living area from the backyard because you're sure he's sitting right beside that girl again. 
As he should be. 
You bolt for the door, giving your friends a tiny smile before going down the few steps and into the hill. It's already dark and you're sure no uber driver it's going up this hill for the tip you're able to offer them, so you figure your best shot is to go down and try to find a cab on the main street. 
The light from your phone illuminates your scowl as you walk. Past the bushes and the trees and the lines of parallel parked cars where Mingi’s Lexus is. 
You don't notice him there until he opens the backdoor to block your step. 
“Get in the car, I'm taking you home.” 
Closing the door he just opened to stop you, you shake your head. 
“I told you I'm getting a ride and—”
“I don't give a fuck. Get in the car.” And then he's opening his door and closing it so fast it gives you no room for debating. 
He's angry. Shit. 
You can't even see him through the tinted window to assess how much damage you have done, so you look down the hill one more time and wonder if making the run for it is worth it. 
When your phone lights up with a notification from Gyuri asking you if everything's okay and to make it home safe, you take it as a sign to round the car and get into the passenger side with an annoyed huff. 
The engine comes to life. You're not looking at him but at the trees until the leaves start showing the building lights in-between them and soon you're on the main road. 
You can't even ask him to turn the radio on. Stubborn, you refuse to let the anger inside of you dissipate in fear of shame taking over. It's better being angry than being ashamed, at least in this exact moment because you can practically feel Mingi's anger through the silent treatment. 
But you need to say something. The silence is suffocating and the street is surprisingly empty so you can't distract yourself with anything. 
“You shouldn't have bothered.” 
“I am bothered. You bothered me.” 
Clenching your jaw, you turn to him in disbelief “I told you to stay at the goddamn party so we can fix this tomorrow but I bothered you?”
“Did I stutter or something?” 
“No, you're just not making any fucking sense!” 
“Yeah, fuck this,” you see him look around, biting the inside of his cheek like he's holding his words in “We're fixing this right now.” 
The car makes a harsh turn and you have to grab the door for support. 
“Mingi!” He's not listening to you anymore. His hard gaze stays on the road, it feels like forever before he pulls into a somewhat empty parking lot and when the vehicle stops you go to open the door and get the fuck away from him before you two kill eachother inside this car. 
That's an exaggeration but with the way he turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt, you know your pride doesn't stand a chance. 
The summer breeze briefly hits your face before his hand is on yours, closing the door and preventing you from, once again, escaping the situation. 
Frustrated, you let out a loud groan “What the fuck is your problem?!” 
“I don't know, Y/N! But I'll tell you what your problem is, alright?” he chuckles. It's a humorless sound, his face painted in something you've never seen before “Your problem is that you assume you know what everyone else is feeling and you assume you're right. But intuition can only get you so far, love, so I need you to take your head out of your ass and think logically for a second.” 
Flabbergasted, you think you murmur something in your defense but he cuts you short. 
“No! You didn't let me get a word out back there so now you're going to shut up and listen,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes “You assume you're smarter than everyone else but you're actually so dumb. Dumb, you're acting very dumb and reckless, Y/N! That back there?” he points out of the window to nothing but you know what he means “Leaving— Scratch that. Leaving me and not giving me a chance to say anything back? Trying to go down that hill alone and in the dark? Stupid.” 
Staring back at him with watery eyes, you don't even know what to say back except a whispered excuse me?
“And usually I would beat up anyone who even dares to call you that but I guess all these years I've been wrong about you. Because if you were smart, you would've realized that Hanni means nothing to me and I mean nothing to her. There's nothing, she loves appearances and that's it.” 
You knew that already, but you're not giving your stance up. 
What even is your stance? Ah, right, he treated you like an envious no one back there and not like his best friend.  
“Yeah, I can tell you mean nothing to her from the whiny tone and the hug and the dragging you to meet her friends, Mingi.” Scoffing at the memory, your lips press into a thin line. 
“Well, she's a friendly girl!” 
“She didn't even say hi to me!” 
“So she doesn't like you, Y/N! Who cares!” you sure don't but, again, you just stare at him in disbelief and his open arms, palms to the sky “Do you care? Because I don't! And guess what? I doesn't fucking matter if she likes you or not or if she wants me or not because I like you!” 
What? 
“W-what?” 
“I like you! And I'll choose you over her and everyone else again and again and again until you notice but fuck it's so tiring. You're so fixated on why I let her drag me to her friends that you completely ignored me the rest of the time we were there and maybe if you looked at me more than once you would've realized that I was staring back at you the whole afternoon!” 
You let out an annoyed chuckle “So you were, Mingi.” 
“I was! I was trying to get you to look at me and notice how bad I wanted you to come over, rescue me from that boring ass conversation, grab my hand and claim your place right beside me because—” he pauses, resting a hand on the steering wheel and looking at you like he can't believe he has to spell this out for you “Because I want nothing more than for her and everyone to know I’m yours! I'm sure everyone already fucking knows too, except you. So yeah, sometimes, you're pretty fucking dumb for such a smart woman, Y/N.” 
Words escape you. They escape your mind, your reason and your pride shrinks until it disappears behind all the love you feel for Mingi. 
So that's what you are feeling. That's what you felt yesterday night when the tiredness couldn't drown out your thoughts of him and all he meant to you. 
Love, love, love. In all its forms, in all its possible scenarios. Your heart burns for it and you used to think that your hopeless romantic desires began and died with the movies you tend to see and the books you tend to read, that it was impossible to feel this way for anyone but there he is, chest heaving in the yellow interior light, waiting for you to say something back. 
“And I realize that before yesterday I showed no interest in you but believe me when I say that I—” 
Shakily, you interrupt him with whispered words, heart soaring and hands reaching out to cup his beautiful face “Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 
When you kiss him, you make sure to pour out everything you couldn't say a minute ago into it. 
When he kisses you back with the same feeling, it crosses your mind that he already forgave you. 
And when he grabs your waist and drags you over the break handle and the transmission to collide his chest against yours and drag his tongue along the seam of your bottom lip, you think that, for the first time ever, you have to tell him he's right. 
You are stupid. Stupid for not realizing it sooner, stupid for confusing his longing stares for something platonic, stupid for thinking you could wait until tomorrow to tell him he has the right to see and be with anyone he wants to because this is it. 
This. The way your entire body comes alive when he sighs into your mouth and groans at the way your knee opens up his legs to make room for you on his side of the car and partially on his lap. The way his thumbs run through your cheeks and dry the tears you didn't even feel falling down. The way your heart jumps frantically and the way its beats could get confused by his because you're so close. 
Suddenly and unexpectedly, you can't recall a time Mingi didn't make you feel this exact same way. It's overwhelming, it expands through you like a fire and it knocks the remaining air out of your lungs enough for you to pull away and rest your forehead against his, shaky breaths tangling together and fingers grasping the neck of his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself. 
You sniffle, incapable of not feeling emotional over his confession and your realization “I'm sorry, Mingi. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for treating you that way I was… I behaved like…” 
“An ass.” He nods and you look at him with the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. 
“Yeah,” you nod as well “I was an ass. A jealous ass.” 
“I know, love.” He whispers, eyes moving on your face before his lips are on yours again, briefly, sweetly, even if you don't feel like you deserve it “You tend to forget that I know you, hm? That I've seen you jealous before? You were an ass back then, too.” 
“Okay! Okay, stop calling me an ass, I get it.” 
“I'm sorry for waiting for you to do something when you didn't even… I guess you didn't know, right? The way I feel about you?” 
“I know now,” you whisper back, nudging your nose against his and then putting some distance so you can see him better “I feel the same way, by the way. We're shit at communicating, apparently, so I'll just tell you now that—” 
His lips are on yours again and he's giggling against them and shaking his head when he pulls away. Brown eyes search for yours and you're not sure what he's looking in them but he seems to find it, his muscles relaxing against the leather of his seat seconds later. 
So you kiss him again. And again and again until your back starts hurting and the steering wheel is pressed uncomfortably against it, forcing you to shift on his hold. 
“Let me… Wait.” He lets you go to pull his seat back and then closes his legs, forcing your knee to fall on his other side so you can fully straddle his lap “That's better. Now come here.” And then he’s grabbing the back of your neck and stealing your breath away again with another kiss.
The tension shifts right then. When he can fully feel you pressing up against him and when a noise escapes you once his hands drop and give your bare legs the attention you didn't even know you were craving. 
You thought a second ago that the sweet kisses would stop once you were both sated with the sweet aftermath of all the yelling and confessing but now you don't want it to stop. 
There's a lot to catch up on, a lot of missed time you need to make up for. 
You still want to make him feel good. The sparks from yesterday come alive again and soon you're yanking the strands of dark hair with your fingers and letting your mouth explore the skin of his neck. When you sink your teeth into his skin, he lets out the same noise he did the night before and you smile against the mark you just made. 
His lips find your shoulder and he breathes hard into it once your hips start moving at their own accord, slowly yet firmly, the pad of his fingers digging hard on your thighs until you break away from his neck to focus on his face again. 
“This goddamn dress, love.” 
Humming, you caress his red cheek with your lips “What about it?” 
“Been thinking about it all day…” 
“It worked, by the way.” 
“Woo?” 
“Mhm. Distracted him so he didn't throw me in the pool right away.” 
“And Jongho?” 
“Probably plotting against me right now.” 
He laughs softly into your skin “Probably.” 
Chuckling as well, you stop your movements and take in how he looks. Gone, a little too fucked up from just making out, lips swollen and eyes clouded with something you're getting too familiar with, too quick. 
“Worked on you, too.” 
He smiles and shrugs, letting his head drop into the headrest “You look good in everything, love. It doesn't really matter what you wear.” 
“Oh?” 
A firm hand trails up your body, slowly, from you leg to your hip, your waist to the side of your breasts and your until it cops your face with affection you never imagined you would experience. 
“I have always thought you are the most beautiful girl to ever exist.” 
This is it. 
Leaning into his touch, your lips connect to the palm of the hand holding you before you lean forward again. 
“I love you, Mingi.” 
He doesn't seem surprised by your confession and you're glad he knows. It doesn't really matter if its too soon, if you even mean it in a romantic way or not, the love you have for him transcends all labels. 
“I love you too, Y/N.”
And his does too. 
You kiss him until it hurts. 
He kisses you until you're gasping and your body is pleading for more. 
The both of you kiss each other until you're sure nothing else will replace the taste of one another, that it will linger forever even if your paths stop crossing at any point in time. 
It feels like you're trapped somewhere where the clock doesn't tick at all, where you can take your time exploring him with your mouth and your hands. 
And then it doesn't. 
The fabric of the dress starts bothering you, his tight shirt is suddenly not tight enough and the hardness steadily growing and pressing into your core is screaming for attention you can't give him with all these clothes on the way. 
He feels it too, fingers tracing the hem of your dress for the second time today and then they're under it, pulling at the fabric up until it bunches on your waist. 
You're still wearing the swimsuit he helped you put on earlier but it does little to conceal how affected you are. Looking down, you're not even ashamed of it when he follows your eyes and let his linger on the patch of wetness darkening the color of the bottoms. 
Still, he moves his hands upwards again and soon you're struggling to get the dress off, considering you're almost bumping the roof of the car when you straighten your spine to do so. 
“Wanna know what crossed my mind when I saw you in the bathroom?” 
When it's finally off, he immediately goes for it: His index tracing your collarbone and slowly descending, his short nail dragging against your skin before the rest of his fingers join, right in between your breasts, where there's fabric holding together the top of the swimsuit. 
He could easily tug on it if he wanted to. Instead, he ignores it and presses the heel of his hand against it, forcing you to lean back and almost bump into the steering wheel again. 
Unable to speak and panting, you only nod as a reply to his question. 
“How easy it would be to get on my knees and eat you out. I thought: What if I just…” Using his other hand to mess with the knots that keep the left bottom part of the swimsuit together, he demonstrates what he means without actually doing it, his eyes following the motions “Undo these, get on my knees and make her come all over my face?” 
“Fuck, Mingi…” 
“You would like that, wouldn't you?” He smirks without actually looking at you, the hand on your sternum traveling down against your skin before joining the other one, teasing the knots on the right. 
“Y-yes.” 
Maybe he can see it on your face, the sudden nervousness at the scene he painted before you, because he grabs one of your hands and brings them to his lips before drawing you close again “Please tell me your idiot ex-boyfriend ate you out when you were together.” 
Blush darkening, you make a face that gives the answer away. 
He groans “He's worse than I thought, fuck. Come here.” And without any warning, the back of his seat goes down until it touches the backseat with it.
Bracing yourself against his chest, because you went down with him as well, you huff out a surprised laugh “Go where?” 
“Up here. Let me teach you something tonight.” 
“Mingi…” 
“First, you need to make sure your hands are clean—” 
“Stop,” laughing, you interrupt his bad attempt at teasing you with the same words you used on him yesterday “There's no real support for me if we do this, where do I even—” 
“Knees here,” he motions the backseat and you could actually do it, but you would have to sit on his face instead of hovering like you imagine it would be more comfortable for him “hands here” he points to the grab handle and the headrest of the passenger seat and then straightens his spine a little, bringing his face closer to you so he can whisper right into your worn out lips “Turn the light off, I'll do the rest.” 
He looks like he's going to kiss you but then he falls back onto the seat with an excited smile curving his lips. 
What a tease. 
So of course you turn off the light and prop yourself up into the position he wants to. It's challenging, the car is not that small but it feels like it is and you very much would rather do this on a bed, spare his back and yours in the process, but excitement also runs through your body and your brain stops making up excuses for why should deny yourself of the pleasure of Mingi using his mouth to make you see stars the second his fingers undo the knots and peel the bottom half of your swimsuit off your body with ease. 
Lips trailing up your inner thighs and hands on each side of them, holding you in a secure position, Mingi doesn't tease you much before attaching his mouth to your heat and your subconsciousness flies out the window when his tongue flicks your clit. 
You look down at him and the sight of him enjoying himself has you beaming, the warmth spreads through you and the zeroes on your pussy. You don't even try to quiet down your moans, completely forgetting that you're in a public parking lot that can fill up at any second. 
But paying no mind to it either, Mingi also moans encouragingly into your wet folds when your hips move a little, chasing that high. 
He shifts his focus to your entrance, his tongue working itself into you and when you move your hips again at the feeling, his nose bumps into your clit in a way that has you grasping the headrest for support, right hand slipping down and resting on the window while your mouth hangs open and your eyes shut close. 
“Mingi… Baby, fuck, I'll—” he adds his thumb into his ministrations, pressing it against your clit the way he did yesterday and it only takes a few side to side movements for you to come undone on his mouth. 
And again, the intensity of your orgasm takes you by surprise. It's obviously not as intense as yesterday's but it still got you trembling so you want to curse him out for being that good at what he does. 
He eases you into it, slowing his mouth and you only register that it leaves you completely when your thighs are being kissed tenderly. 
Breathless, you look down at him and catch his smile before his teeth are sinking into your skin and forcing you to hiss out a laugh “Good?” 
“Yeah,” you smile, climbing down from your position and hovering over his lap in an attempt to not ruin his jeans. It's very obvious he enjoyed it too, his crotch holding the evidence tight and probably painfully against the fabric there “Really, really good.” 
You want to get on your knees and return the favor, make him squirm in pleasure, but the space is not working in your favor. So even though your thighs are hurting and sweat is dripping down your neck, you start working on the button and zipper of his jeans before he sits up.
He wants to say something, but your tongue is touching his and tasting yourself on it before he gets the chance. Clumsily, a little too far gone for your liking as well, you are able to get through the layers of clothes and let your hand hang over his dick “Are you gonna make me beg for it today?” 
“You don't have to, love.” 
“Beg?” you ask with a smile that he reciprocates “Or touch you?” your free hand brushes the hair out of his face, sliding down until you're propping his chin up with it, thumb tracing his bottom lip softly “Because I want to touch you. I want to make you feel so, so good, baby. Please.” 
He kisses the pad of your thumb and then takes it into his mouth, tongue caressing the tip of it until you're panting again and then nods. 
That's all the permission you need before taking him with your hand and pulling him out of his boxers. Taking your hand out briefly, you gather up saliva and spit right into it. 
Mingi lets out a noise at that. Interesting. 
Starting slow, you focus on his expression. Testing the waters, taking note of what he likes because, unlike him, you probably pushed to the corner of your mind every sexual conversation you two had before yesterday. You take a second to look down at it, the size is no surprise but your mouth waters at the image of you taking him into the heat of it. 
Maybe another time. For now, you focus on making him feel good with the little you can offer him in the enclosed space of his car. 
He mouths at your neck, choked up sobs vibrate through the skin on your collarbone and your top gets moved to the side so he can mark the side of your boobs as he pleases. It sets the fire inside of you alive again, your folds getting wetter when he rolls his tongue around your nipple and then throws his head back when you twist your hand in a motion he seems to really enjoy.
“Just like that, love.” 
To your delight, he's not quiet. He's loud, he's grabby, taking the opportunity to hold onto your ass and press down on the skin when you tease his slit and gather his precum on your fingers so you can spread it around his cock and your hand can slide easier. 
Movements get sloppy once he's close, he's no longer paying attention to you and you welcome it as a great sign, his hips bucking into your hand and he moves you forward until you're sitting on his lap again. 
The only thing preventing your pussy and his dick to touch being your hand. 
You glance at him and he looks back, probably the same idea popping up into his mind so you nod once.
The car moves as you two move around, to the back seat, the spine of his seat up and the entire thing moving forward to make space for him next to you, over you, on top of you once he kicks his jeans and boxers off to the floor. 
You reach out to him in a silent plea and he bends down to kiss you soft and moist and hot and breathy, sensually, with sweet sounds escaping both of you when you reach under his shirt and lift it up until he gets what you want. Discarding it with the rest of his clothes, your top follows it and the contentment you feel when his naked chest touches yours is unmeasurable. 
There's no real room to move around and there's not really any patience left within both of you, so when he apologizes when he moves his hips where he shouldn't and his tip brushes your entrance, you pull back from his bruising mouth. 
“Condom. Now.” 
He obliges right away, searching on his jeans for a minute or so and when he comes back he's smirking like he can't believe you “When I told you we needed to raincheck I didn't mean it to be like this. Bossy.” 
Even if you're punching him on his chest and giggling at his breathy words, you take the teasing with pride “You started it, Mingi!” 
Putting the condom on skilled and fast, he's soon resting his forehead against yours and kissing you softly again “I wanted you on my bed…” his lips trail down and the giggles die on your throat as he's kissing it, a moan escaping you “On your back or knees or riding me…” he continues in a whisper going down and down and down, giving your nipples attention before going back up and taking your mouth in his again “Making a mess on my cock…” 
He takes the opportunity to enter you slowly and you gasp at the stretch, wet enough so it doesn't hurt you but you're unfamiliar with him, with his size splitting you open deliciously. 
“F-fuck, Y/N.” Mingi leans back to watch you take him in and you whine again. Tilting your head back, you let him work himself in and you moan loudly when he almost bottoms out “Look at you…” 
You don't. You can't. He's pressing his thumb on your clit again to ease you through the stretch and it makes the heat pool in your belly like you didn't come in his mouth a few minutes ago. 
Slowly but surely it gets easier for him to rock his hips into you, mouth parting in pleasure when you remind yourself to look at him. His abdomen tenses when you run your nails against the skin there, softly, until you're detouring them into his back and sinking them in just enough to have him whining at the feeling. 
“Baby… Harder.” 
“Yeah?” 
Hips bucking up to meet his at a particularly hard trust, you reach up to him so he can rest his body weight on yours. Close like this, with the pace picking up, the knot on your lower half tightens and threatens to break. 
“You take me so well, love. Fuck, always knew you would,” you know he can feel your walls tightening around him at the praise, because he smiles and kisses you once before continuing “My pretty, pretty girl… Taking my cock so well…” he punctuates his words with the roll of his hips and you cry out, holding his face in between your hands, his eyes never leaving yours. 
In this position, his lower abdomen bumps into your clit and it's soon tipping you over the edge. 
“So good, so good, oh— Oh, God.” You're mumbling incoherently while Mingi keeps whispering sweet nothings and then the tension on your belly breaks. It takes three seconds of your walls pulsating around him for him to groan loudly into your mouth and come undone as well. 
The only thing you can hear is breathing, all you can feel is breathing. His against your chin, yours blowing on his hair when you rest your cheek on his temple. 
It takes a second to gather yourself again and when you do, you tilt your head back to give him a chaste kiss that he returns. 
“That was so good, baby.” You tell him and he smiles, nodding in agreement “I am sticking to the fucking seat though.” 
Mingi snorts and just like that the energy shifts back to the usual you. Only this time, you come back to it knowing that no one’s ever going to have you the way he does. 
He slips out of you, doing his thing with the condom and you sit up, looking through the windows and becoming aware of your surroundings for the first time since you got there. 
There's a car parked far away from you that's empty and the rest of the cars that were near it have left. You wonder how long this all took, because you lost track of time the second he told you he likes you. 
Chest still heaving and boxers now on, Mingi rests his back on the door and takes your hand in his “Is it dumb of me to assume you're my girlfriend now, love?” 
“Is it dumb that I assumed that's what I was when you said you like me?” 
“No,” he answers right away “not dumb at all.” 
Smiling, you nod “Then I'm your girlfriend, Mingi.” 
He beams at that and then he's crowding you again “Say it again.” 
“I'm your girlfriend.” you repeat, enunciating each word and giggling when he nuzzles his nose into the crimson on your cheek “I’m yours, baby.” 
Resting his forehead against yours, he hums in contempt “Good, because I've always been yours too.” 
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“There's no way! You two... together? Guys… See, that would be me if I didn't saw it coming but I'm smarter and cooler than everyone here so I did.” 
Wooyoung's over the top reaction has Mingi throwing his head back in a silent laugh and you staring at the black haired guy, unamused and a little offended. 
It's two days later and, as usual, you're at Wooyoung's and San’s apartment hanging out. 
After putting your clothes back on and going for some well deserved food, Mingi took you home, kissed you goodnight and showed up the next day after class to break the news to your parents. 
Your mom almost cried. Your dad too, but for a completely different reason. 
In the end, they both agreed they saw it coming and when you told Mingi’s parents, they said the same thing and invited yours to have celebratory dinner without you. 
What happened in Mingi’s room after was worth missing dinner anyways. 
Mingi and you decided to break the news when most of the group showed up for movie night and you were nervous to see their reactions. 
But everyone seems unaffected by it. 
“I knew you guys liked each other the second I met you. Ask Gyuri, she agrees with me.” 
“Sadly, I do.” Wooyoung's ex looks at you from her spot by the door, where she's getting her shoes on. 
She winks at you and you fake a gasp, falling into your boyfriend's lap with an annoyed huff. 
“And no one told us?!” 
“Sorry, Y/N. We didn't want to get in the way.” Hwa is apologetic and Yeosang nods alongside Hongjoong but you gape at them like they betrayed your trust. 
“To be fair we didn't know till’ last week, love.” 
“She didn't know.” Gyuri corrects him and now you turn to her to give her the betrayed look “You were pining over it for six months already.” 
“I say it was more like nine but…” Hwa shrugs and sips his cup, giving the man holding you close a knowing smile. 
Oh, they definitely talked about it, huh? 
“Nine months and no one cared to fill me in, huh?” 
“I’m sure Mingi did—” 
“Wooyoung!” 
“Well I didn't notice.” Yunho interferes with a shrug and gives you a recomforting smile that doesn't work at all. 
San laughs “That's because you're a puppy that can't even tell when someone likes you.” 
“Am not!” 
Everyone, including you and Mingi, make a noise in agreement with San.  
“You're one to talk, though, leave the puppy alone.” Gyuri tells her ex's best friend and Wooyoung laughs at him when his smile drops. 
There's some story there you don't know. 
“Guys… Does someone like me right now? Be honest.” 
Yeosang is about to tell him something but Jongho interrupts. 
“Enough with the love talk! Can we start the movie?” But he's pressing play already, so the answer doesn't really matter. 
Gyuri laughs once and Wooyoung makes his way over to her to give her a hug that she enjoys for one second tops before pushing him away. 
“Enjoy everyone! I'm so happy for you two, by the way, not that these neanderthals would tell you to your face but I'm sure they're too.” 
“Thank you, Gyuri.” Mingi murmurs from behind you and you mouth a thank you as well before she leaves for the night. 
Something about her best friend having a boy crisis. 
You don't miss the way San’s eyes follow her until she leaves or the way he looks at Woo, something clearly worrying him. 
His best friend ignores him, though, so you confirm that might just be a little pissed off at him after all. 
“Tell her to text you what happens.” San asks Woo once she leaves and he rolls his eyes. 
“Mhm. I’ll tell her to stop calling us neanderthals too.” 
You smile “Well, she's right.” 
“Nuh-uh!” 
Jongho has to stop the movie and you see him sulk while everyone else is arguing. Some of them, like Hwa and Yeo, are siding with you and Gyuri. And the rest of them, like your boyfriend, are telling them off. 
When you turn to face him, his argument dies mid-sentence because he stops to smile at you. He takes your face in his hand and kisses you for the first time ever in front of everyone else. The group stops the argument to tease you both and you laugh into his mouth. 
A cushion is thrown at you and Jongho gets up to separate your faces before sitting beside you with a pout on his lips. 
“Can we watch the goddamn movie?!” 
You're the happiest you've ever been.
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If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!
© jensthwa, 2024.
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Feelings Thawed
Character; Cater Diamond
Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, pining, ice skating (to various degrees of success)
Word Count; 650+
Author's Note; This is a present/thank you to my mutual @i-like-forgs. I hope you enjoy this ice skating scene with Cater, and that you get to skate soon!
As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist
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The brisk wind bit at your nose, and you pulled up your scarf, trying to keep away the offending wind. Around you it was a winter wonderland, all made possible in the temperate conditions thanks to Cater, who was filming you skating around on the frozen pond’s surface.
“You know,” you hollered, making sure that you caught his attention, “you should join me! It’s fun!” You came to a stop by the pond’s edge, where Cater was standing with a large thermos.
Cater just shot you a wink, handing you the thermos. “This is for you though, silly!” 
He was deflecting, you could tell; behind that bright and cheery smile that he always seemed to wear around others, you knew when there was something off with Cater. You accepted the thermos though, and took a sip of the spicy apple cider, still piping hot.
You gave him a look and pulled lightly on his coat sleeve. “Yes, but it’s more fun with others, come on Cater!” You stepped back onto the ice, and slowly skated near him, waiting with an eager smile.
He looked at you, and then back at the ice, but he stayed standing in the light snow, shooting you that smile. “But I can’t take photos if I’m out there with you!” He scratched at the back of his neck.
Liar. “Cater,” you looped back around and stepped onto the bank, balancing on your skates, “do you not know how to skate?”
Cater’s smile turned sheepish, and his ‘ahahaha, looks like my gig is up’ chuckle made its appearance. He had been found out. “Never got the chance to,” he hid his face slightly in his scarf, either to keep the cold at bay or to hide that his cheeks were turning pink. “So I’d just slow ya down.”
You took his hand into yours, “Well, I could teach you if you wanted. Just a warning though, you’re gonna fall on your butt a lot, might get a few bruises.”
Cater looked down at your entwined hands. Mittens and gloves separated your skin from touching one another, but Cater could swear that he could feel the sensation nonetheless through the layers of fabric.
“You would? Even if I pull you down with me?” 
The last question wasn’t just about the ice skating; Cater didn’t want to force you to do anything that you didn’t want to… and that included being his friend. His heart seemed to whisper stronger emotions though, but he didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had.
You walked him out to the ice, and the both of you swiftly fell down on the ice, hard. But you just laughed and got right back up again, “Well, we did just fall. There isn’t anything scary about falling down; yes it stings and might leave a gnarly bruise, but in order to move forward we have to fall and get back up. So yes, is what I guess I’m saying.”
Cater looked up at you, the sun illuminating you and the snow glittered behind you. You were holding your hand out again, waiting for him. And Cater took your hand. 
It took him a while to get the hang of it, and he fell down quite a bit, but every time he fell down you helped him back up. And by the time that the sun was setting in the west, the both of you were cold, and both were going to wake up tomorrow with some bruises. It was fun though, which is all that mattered… but that whisper in Cater’s heart was by now singing, and maybe he would listen to it, but for now, he was happy with how the way things were, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, especially with how much you had smiled today. Your smile and knowing that you had fun with him was enough.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tags; @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @silvers-numberonefan, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii
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dekariosclan · 9 months
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Imagine Gale as a talented and impressive young man, able to compose the Weave at will, skilled in a way that few can match, and favored by the Goddess of Magic herself. Imagine that because of these accomplishments, he’s caught the eye of a few up-and-coming magic adepts, and he falls in love with one of them—his first real love. Gale isn’t one to toss the ‘L’ word around lightly, so when he tells them he loves them, he means it; he gives himself over to them completely.
And in return, they love him for his potential. For his status. For the magic he can command. They love the wizard they see on the surface, but not the man underneath. They are attracted to his power, but not to him.
So of course the relationship fails, after the thrill of his magic wears off. But because Gale is a resilient young man and he’s caught the eye of so many, he soon falls in love with another.
And then it happens again. And again.
And each time Gale’s heart is ravaged, his ambition to become a better wizard grows, because he’s being shown time and time again that his magic ability is all that matters.
So much so that, by the time Mystra decides to elevate him from Favored to Chosen to Lover, he welcomes her with eager, desperate arms. Because if all his worth is in his magic, and that’s all he has to offer, and that’s all anyone wants from him, who better to love him than the Goddess of Magic herself?
Except…there’s a nagging voice in the back of his head that whispers she doesn’t really love him. There’s anxiety in his heart as time passes, and he reaches both the limit of what his talents can do and what Mystra will allow him to do. And most troubling of all: a growing panic that, just like his other lovers, she will soon grow tired of him and discard him if he can’t improve his magic any further.
He tries pouting, and pleading, and begging her to let him take more power, to let him be more for her, but she refuses. Smiles patronizingly. Tells him to be patient. But Gale can’t be patient when his power is tied so closely to his self-worth; he can’t be patient when doing so in the past has only ever lead to heartache.
So he does what he believes will be a Grand Romantic Gesture, one that will finally put him on equal footing with the woman he loves. Instead, it turns out to be a folly that dooms him and destroys his talents. And just as he’d always feared, Mystra tosses him aside the moment his magical gifts are gone—because what’s left of him holds no value for her.
————
Imagine Gale in his tower, alone, afraid, the ever-hungry orb in his chest, with only his tressym there to help him. No other friends to speak of. His colleagues forced to keep away for their own safety. His magical talents utterly stripped down, so that even when he does try and distract himself with illusions, he’s bitterly reminded of what he used to be capable of. Waking every morning wondering if it will be his last, ending every day full of loneliness and disappointment.
…and then he meets Tav.
At the lowest point in his life, at his most vulnerable, when he knows he’s going to be considered a burden, he meets this stranger and their group. So he does what he can to be useful—assigning himself to be camp cook, offering up his (now meager) magic skills, turning the charm up to 11—as he desperately hopes this will somehow work out. He’s pleasantly surprised when, after providing only minor details of his condition, Tav agrees to help him. He’s even more surprised when they actually follow through.
Imagine how Gale feels as Tav treats him kindly. As he grows to trust Tav, and then grows to like them. Imagine his surprise as he opens up and shows them more and more of himself, and they don’t turn him away.
But then his condition worsens. And he has to reveal everything: the foolish mistakes he’s made, and how dangerous he is as a result. He clings to Tav’s hand as he shows them his folly. He’s at their mercy now, and he knows this might be the last time he’ll ever feel the touch of another being, if they decide—and Gods, why wouldn’t they decide?—to cast him out.
…but they don’t. They don’t. Instead, they tell him to stay.
Imagine the relief Gale feels. The gratitude. And perhaps…just a hint of something more. Something that he dare not name, but that flares to life every time he thinks of how warm their hand was in his. Something that feels dangerously close to jealousy, when he’s had too much to drink and sees Tav smiling at another…
But he knows these are all foolish thoughts, because he has nothing to offer Tav. They are wonderful just as they are, but he…he is an empty shell of a man, a discarded husk of a wizard, and while they might tolerate him, he could never believe they might actually want him.
And besides, he still thinks of Mystra. He still longs for Mystra. She who cast him out, but to whom he still feels tethered. Sometimes he needs to cocoon himself in the weave, just to try and calm his fears and bring some joy back to his life, because magic is his life. And sometimes he just needs to see her face, even though that hurts as much as it heals.
One night he’s lost in thought, having conjured Mysta’s image after settling down at camp. Thinking that even if she hadn’t ‘loved’ him—certainly not in the way he’d loved her—she’d given him enough otherwise, hadn’t she? She’d amused him and been amused by him, they’d shared countless pleasures, why hadn’t he been satisfied with that?
Gale is so lost in thought he doesn’t realize Tav has come up behind him. Until they ask a question, startling him out of his trance. He’s a bit shaken, so he tries to turn the conversation from Mystra to the weave itself. And then a wonderful idea occurs to him, something that he’d been toying with already: what if they were to conjure the weave together?
He can show Tav how important magic is to him, let them experience what he does, perhaps even impress them a bit. But most importantly, share a moment with them. As friends would do…
He’s elated when Tav agrees. He leads them through the steps effortlessly, and they’re a surprisingly good student, following his instructions correctly (if a bit clumsily). He’s as excited as they are—perhaps even more so!—when they succeed in channeling the weave.
It’s such a pleasant, familiar feeling for him, like coming home to his tower in Waterdeep. Even as the weave connects him with Tav and makes them one, he’s easily able to hide his innermost thoughts, because he’s done it so many times before.
…but he’s forgotten that Tav has not.
————
Imagine Gale knowing every romantic partner he ever had only wanted him because of how he could raise their status, or how he could amuse them, or how he could command magic for them. And, each time, he was happy to oblige them, even desperate to oblige them, because if that was the price of their love, then he was sure it would be worth it.
But it still all came to nothing.
Now imagine Gale connected in an intimate way with someone he likes very, very much—while being what he considers his lowest, most worthless, and most humbled self. As far from the powerful, impressive wizard he once was as he could ever be. And suddenly a vision enters his mind from the lovely creature standing next to him. Only, to his complete and utter shock, it isn’t one where he is providing them with a service, or wowing them with his magical ability, or granting them some kind of power from one of the spells he commands.
Instead, when he sees their desire laid bare before him, it’s a vision of kissing him. Of holding his hand. The two most basic forms of affection and physical connection. The two things that he would still be able to offer them even if every last ounce of his remaining magical abilities were stripped from him. The two things he could share with them even if he was no longer Gale of Waterdeep, and just plain old Gale Dekarios instead.
Imagine the embarrassment and trepidation he feels at first, because surely he is mistaken?…and then the elation when he realizes that he is not. So much elation that his concentration is broken, the weave dissipating as he forgets about channeling it, as he forgets about Mystra. Because all that matters to him now is the image before him—the most pleasant and welcome image he’s seen in a very, very long time.
Imagine how that would feel…and how besotted, enamored and completely devoted he’d be to Tav afterwards. To know that someone finally—finally—just wants him.
Just imagine.
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katsu28 · 4 months
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home is wherever you are
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
summary: secretly falling in love with your best friend is tough. secretly falling in love with your best friend who also happens to be your roommate is even less than ideal. the solution? move out! (hint: it isn’t a very good one.) (5k)
warnings: angst with a happy ending, a smidge of google translated french lol
a/n: CHARLES LECLERC!!! CHARLES LECLERC!!!!LECLERC!!! LECLERAUGHCOUGHCOUGH
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“I still cannot believe you’re abandoning me.” 
Charles shoved another box of your things into the boot of your car rather huffily, as if to reiterate just how unhappy he was. 
“I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving out of your apartment.” You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully at him. You passed him the last box off the ground, wiping your hands off on your shorts before propping them on your hips. 
“That is quite literally the same thing.” He mirrored your stance in total seriousness, frown unwavering. “And it’s not my apartment, it’s yours now too. Your home.” 
You’d been living with Charles for a while now, having been suddenly evicted from your own place three, almost four years ago. With nowhere else to go, you’d turned to your best friend, and Charles had welcomed you with open arms, giving you a home when you’d needed it most. 
There were many good things about living with Charles—he liked to cook (which boded well with you, seeing as you were no master chef yourself. Except for when he’d gone through a questionable phase of combining cuisines that did not go well together.), he was respectful of set boundaries and agreed upon rules. You had the same taste in shows and movies, which made for little fighting when it came to deciding on what to watch. 
But most notably, he loved to play the piano. It was a hobby he’d picked up during long days spent staying at home, and he was good at it too. An electronic keyboard when he’d first started out, just to see if it was something he was serious about, but as he zoomed through the basics with ease, he’d splurged on a gorgeous white piano that stood proudly in the living room. 
Soon enough, it wasn’t unusual for the apartment to be full of music, beautiful songs of Charles’ own composing. 
He played whenever he had the feeling. Whenever he had something on his mind, whenever he was bored, anything, he’d spend hours at the piano, playing, playing, playing. Some might’ve called it annoying, but not you. You found it rather soothing. 
It had very quickly become a habit of yours to fall asleep listening to Charles play. Something about it seemed to always relax you just enough to the point where you could pretty much fall asleep anywhere if he was at the bench. 
Your favorite spot was on the sofa with a big blanket, watching him get lost in the notes until you drifted off. More often than not, you could rarely get a good night’s sleep without Charles’ accompaniment—your very own version of white noise. 
But truth be told, this past year of living together with Charles had been trickier than the first couple. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment things began to change, but something had definitely shifted between you. 
You’d been trying to write it off just the two of you being very close, but you’d been dancing on the line of close friends and more than friends for a long time. Falling asleep together cuddled on the sofa, lingering touches whilst you were in the same room and in passing, hugs that lasted a little too long to be considered normal. 
The more your feelings for Charles grew, the more worried you became. Worried about what, you weren’t exactly sure. All you knew was you didn’t want to lose the longest and best friendship you’d ever had because you went and fell in love.
“I know. But I think it’s well past time I get out of your hair and try being on my own for once.” You said softly, stepping in to fold yourself into Charles’ arms. 
Most of that was true. You did feel like you needed to live by yourself for a chance, to see what it was like to be fully independent in your adult life. You’d moved in with Charles when you were twenty two, and you were twenty five now. It was time for you to venture out on your own. 
But the uncertainty of falling in love with your best friend was definitely also a contributing factor. 
He made a displeased sound at your words, but tucked you under his chin nonetheless. “I don’t want you to get out of my hair. My hair likes it with you here.” 
“I live fifteen minutes away, Cha. I’m not moving across the country. You and your hair can come over anytime.” You scoffed, giving him a gentle poke in the ribs. “And I’ll come over here all the time too, you know that.” 
“Fine, fine. I don’t know what I am supposed to do with your empty room now, but I’ll figure it out. Maybe I will take up scrapbooking. Knitting. Needlepoint, maybe. Turn it into a craft room.” 
“Maybe you can turn it into a music room. Move the keyboard in there, your piano.” 
“Ah, bien entendu, my piano. How will you ever fall asleep without my sweet, sweet melodies?” 
“I think I will manage just fine.” You chuckled. 
Charles held you at arms’ length, dark brows furrowing as he scowled. “What I’m hearing is you don’t love me anymore.” 
Oh, if only he knew. 
You smiled instead, patting his cheek good-naturedly. “Come on, you drama queen. I want to move in before the sun goes down.” 
Charles went full protection mode the second all your belongings had made it safely inside the apartment, intently checking every lock, window, door hinge, cabinet—not an inch of the apartment went uninspected by him. When he seemed fairly satisfied with his safety checks, he returned to where you were unpacking kitchen items over by the oven.
“Everything up to your standards?” You asked, pulling out a stack of plates wrapped in brown paper. Charles shuffled over, easing them out of your hands and unwrapping them to help put them up in the cabinet. “No one is going to break in through my window tonight?”
“Don’t even joke about that.” He grumbled, chucking the balled up paper at you gently. “Everything I checked is fine. You will be safe here.” 
Food was simple when it came time for dinner—takeout on the floor of your living room, because you hadn’t had the time to go shopping for a coffee table yet. Or a dining room table. Or even chairs, really. All you had were some pillows and an overturned cardboard box to put the food on. 
Charles had insisted on helping you furnish the whole place before you moved in but you’d declined, saying that you wanted to get a feel for the place before filling it with everything. The last time it would be this empty would be the day you moved out. 
He seemed a little quiet the rest of the night, but you didn’t press it until after dinner, whilst he was helping you with the washing up. Well, helping was a strong word. 
“You’ve been drying that plate for ages now.” You observed, tilting your head at him thoughtfully. Charles inhaled sharply, shaking his head like he’d been snapped out of a stupor. He glanced down at the completely dry plate, then back up at you blankly. “What’re you thinking about?” 
“You’re really going to be gone.”
“You say that like I told you I’ve only got days to live. I won’t be gone, Cha. I’ll be around.” You chuckled, flicking dish soap bubbles in his direction. Charles responded by flinging his towel at you, cracking a smile. You liked it when he smiled, hated it when he frowned. He was still unfairly attractive, but it wasn’t Charles’ scowl that made you fall in love with him. 
“We can spend the day together anytime, you can come over whenever you want, and if it makes you feel any better, I will give you your very own key.” 
That seemed to put him a little more in higher spirits. 
 “What will you ever do without me?” He wondered out loud, feigning a thoughtful expression. 
“Probably clean up a lot less. Be able to take a shower without running out of hot water halfway through. Oh! Have a bottle of shampoo last more than a month because someone—not naming names, of course, won’t use it because they’ve run out of theirs. Not have to fight for—” 
“Alright, alright, I get it!” Charles huffed, grabbing you by the shoulders and promptly shoving your face into his chest to stop you from talking. 
You grinned against the softness of his hoodie. “Shall I go on?” 
“No, no you shouldn’t.” His hold on you loosened, but you stayed right where you were, wrapping your arms around his torso. “Just admit it. You’ll miss me.” 
“I will miss you.” You said softly, pressing your cheek into the crook of his neck. If there was something Charles was unbelievably good at (besides literally anything he’d ever tried), it was giving the best hugs. Something about them made you feel safe, like nothing and nobody could ever hurt you as long as you were in his arms. 
“You already know how much I’m going to miss having you around.” 
“Yeah, I am pretty great.” 
A laugh rumbled through his chest. “You are.” 
“You’ve been the best roommate I could’ve asked for. Thank you for everything.” Your words were muffled between the two of you, and you were glad for it, because he didn’t seem to notice the waver in your tone. But he did squeeze you a little tighter, so maybe he did hear you. “I love you, Cha.” 
Charles’ voice seemed to waver just a bit too. “I love you too.” 
“Okay, okay, you really need to leave. Go before I change my mind and make you stay.” You blurted, pushing him away playfully. It was better than letting him see you get emotional. 
“Is that a promise?” 
“No, it’s a threat. Go home. I will see you soon.” You gave his hand one last squeeze, nodding reassuringly to rid him of the crease between his brows. “Don’t worry about me. Go, get some rest.” 
It was only then that he seemed satisfied enough to leave, but even then, he cast another backwards glance towards you on his way down the hall, as if he was waiting for you to beckon him back. You just smiled as best you could. 
You’d get over it. You had to. There was still a lot you needed to get done before you called it a night. 
It wasn’t until you were getting ready to go to bed that you started to feel lonely. You and Charles had your respective bedtime routines, but they always intertwined. 
You never liked being the one to turn off all the lights in the apartment because the switch was at the end of the hallway opposite from your bedrooms, so he knew to do it because you hated running back through the darkness after flipping the switch. 
He always filled a glass with water for late night sipping, but never remembered to actually bring it to his room until he was already in bed, so you always grabbed it for him so he wouldn’t have to make the trek back out the kitchen.  
The bathroom counter was where you’d find each other the most, terrible jokes and funny stories told muffled through toothpaste bubbles, even though you could’ve just waited until you were finished to tell each other. You’d flick water at him as you washed your face because he took up too much space at the sink, he’d turn off the tap in retaliation, things like that. 
Sometimes Charles would stay up later playing video games with his friends, or take some extra time to practice piano, so you wouldn’t get to do your well oiled machine routine, but he’d always take the extra second to pop into your room to say goodnight when he heard you bustling around, even if he was in the middle of something. 
The times you fell asleep on the sofa to Charles’ playing the piano, he’d camp out at the other end of the sofa for the night, or at the very least made sure you were covered with a blanket if he went to sleep in his own room. 
It was something you’d grown accustomed to over the years, oftentimes the well-needed end to a not so great day. Charles never failed to put a smile on your face, even with something as small and mundane as a bedtime routine. 
But there was none of that as you ran through your routine this time. 
You didn’t hear him shuffling around over in the other room, the muffled sounds of his shouts as he played his games, and most of all, you didn’t hear him and his piano. 
Because there was no Charles. Of course there wasn’t. You were in this new place that you hadn’t had quite nearly enough of a chance to get used to yet, alone, and it was finally settling in. 
Suddenly moving out and away from him seemed like the worst decision in the world. 
You knew it was only the first night. You had to give yourself a chance to reacclimate, and that would take time. So you inhaled a deep breath, trying to get as comfy as you could for a long, probably sleepless night ahead. 
It was nearing four in the morning when you finally decided to give up and call Charles. Part of you thought he might not even pick up the phone, because he was probably asleep. Any sane person would be sleeping right now. 
Much to your surprise, he answered on the second ring. 
“Why are you awake?” You asked, maybe a bit harshly. 
“Um, you are the one who called me? Why are you awake?” He replied, groggy voice still teasing. His accent always grew thicker when he was sleepy. You thought it was adorable. “You cannot sleep, can you?” 
“...No.” Your voice grew smaller. You felt embarrassed at the fact that you couldn’t even make it one full night without Charles around. “I just…I wanted to hear your voice, I guess. I miss you already, Cha.” 
Charles fell silent for a few moments, the only sound on his side of the line being his gentle exhales. “I miss you too. Do you want me to come over? I can stay the night, if you want.” 
“No. No, you don’t need to do that.” You said softly. “Can you just talk to me?” 
This was also something that had become somewhat of a ritual when either of you couldn’t sleep. 
You’d tiptoe into each other’s rooms quiet as a mouse, slipping into bed beside the other. Charles always stirred when he felt the bed dip under your weight, half asleep but still reaching out to pull you against his chest like it was second nature. On the occasions when he came into your room, you’d feel him tuck himself close to you, nosing against any part of you he could find with a content sigh. 
There was no rhyme or reason to the things you’d talk about in those moments, but eventually, somehow, you’d both end up asleep, usually fairly quickly. Maybe it was the extra added comfort of each other that helped, you could never tell. 
It wasn’t unusual to wake up a jumble of limbs tangled together, and neither of you ever addressed it either. Just went on with your business as usual, never talking about it because it was just something you did. To help each other sleep, of course. 
Another thing that really blurred the line between friends and more. 
Charles hummed a noncommittal sound, soft and fond like he always was around you. “I’ll do you one better. How about I play some music for you?” 
“Yes, please. Thank you.” You sighed, relieved. He knew what you needed without you even having to ask. 
You heard him get up, footsteps padding along until there was a thud and some shuffling coming from Charles’ side. A few warm up scales in and you were already feeling a little less anxious, letting yourself get comfortable. 
“Any requests from the audience?” 
“Been working on anything new?” You yawned, nuzzling a little deeper back into your pillow. 
“I have, actually. It’s still—fuck, how do you say it…a work in progress?”
“Anything you play is perfect.”
“You flatter me.” He snorted. “Alright, here goes nothing.”  
He began to play. You knew jack shit about music, so there wasn’t much you could think of to describe how it sounded, but you could describe how it felt. You could almost feel the emotion pouring from his playing, even through the scratchy quality of the speaker. 
It felt like something you’d hear in the background of a movie montage, lilting and delicate and warm notes swirling together to create a bright melody, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. 
Memories of good times with Charles flashed through your head—all the long days and even longer nights you’d spent together because you thrived in each other’s company, cooking together, binging Netflix shows until you both passed out on the sofa. 
Hushed laughing during dinners at fancy restaurants that Charles could get into by flashing his name, soft conversations accompanied with expensive food and even more expensive wine. 
Day trips up the coast with the top down on the car, pushing the speed limit just to feel an ounce of the freedom that it could give you. Walking through Monte Carlo on late night gelato runs, switching flavors because you both enjoyed each other’s choice more than your own. 
Most of all, you thought of the love you felt for Charles, ever since you’d first met him. You’d never been one to believe in the concept of soulmates, but fuck, it was so easy to think of him as yours. Never had you felt as much for someone as you did for him. 
God, why were you even thinking of those things? 
It would never happen. Any love that Charles had for you would be strictly platonic, limited to however much one could love their best friend. 
Surely he’d drawn inspiration from something else when he’d composed the beautiful piece. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know. 
Soon enough, you’d drifted off like you always did when Charles played, coincidentally right before he came to a lingering stop. 
Had you been awake, you would’ve heard him say that the beautiful piece had been inspired by you. Instead you were fast asleep, still none the wiser to anything. Maybe it was a good thing. You might not have believed it if you’d heard him. 
-------
Charles was on your doorstep first thing in the morning, coffee and pastries in hand when you opened the door for him. 
“Hello, good morning, your savior is here. And with breakfast!” He chirped, coming to just enough of a halt for you to slide an arm around his shoulders in a hug and grab one of the drinks out of the tray before he swept past you.
Bright morning sunlight poured into the open area, washing the whole place aglow. A warm breeze floated in through the ajar window, rattling the shutters only slightly, and you could hear the all too familiar sounds of the city in the morning coming from the streets below. It was a gorgeous picture of peace; one of the apartment’s many fun quirks that convinced you to go for it in the first place. 
The only thing that might’ve rivaled the beauty of the moment was Charles standing at the window, leaning against the sill drinking his coffee while the breeze ruffled his hair. His back was to you as he checked out the view, but even the mere image of him here was nice. 
You sipped your own coffee, smiling to yourself when you realized Charles remembered exactly how you took it. You didn’t even need to look inside the bag to know they were your favorite pastries from the bakery down the street from your former apartment that both you and Charles loved. He was always thoughtful like that. Things like remembering your favorite foods and drinks, and going out of his way to get them as a little pick-me-up. 
It seemed wrong to ruin the moment, but you felt like you had to say something. 
“I’m sorry for waking you up last night.” You sighed, taking a cross-legged seat on a pillow. 
Charles turned away from the window, shaking his head quickly. He took a seat on the floor next to you, long legs stretching out towards your crossed ones to nudge a sneaker against your socked foot. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, I’m glad you called me.” 
“Right, but it’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it? First time on my own and I didn’t even last a whole night.” 
“Not pathetic.” He insisted, entirely firm in his words. He set his cup down as if it could strengthen his point. “It is a change, definitely. You can’t expect yourself to get used to such a big change immediately. It takes time, you know.” 
You messed with the lid of your cup, picking at the plastic with a scowl. “I know. But I can’t always come running to you whenever I need help. It’s not fair to you to have to keep rescuing me every time I need saving.” 
“Okay…” He trailed off, stretching out the last syllable in confusion. “I feel this is about something more than just last night. We can talk about it, if you would like?”
“I don’t know what it is.” You huffed. “I thought I was ready to be on my own, but maybe I’m not. Maybe I don’t know I’m doing and I’ll never figure it out, and—” 
“Whoa, whoa, slow down. Where is this all coming from?” 
“I don’t know,” You repeated, bordering on a whine. “But what I do know is that I can’t always keep relying on you for everything. It’s not good for me, or for you.” 
“You know, you could always just move back home if you’re truly not ready to do things on your own.” Charles offered, taking a casual sip of his own drink.
Home. He said it so casually, like home was with him instead of this new place you’d chosen to make yours. In a way, Charles was your home. Safety, comfort, love—all the things that made something home, you felt with him. 
That was the problem. You didn’t feel right relying on him for all those things, not without him being aware of how you actually felt about him. It seemed like too much of a burden to put on a friend, even one as perfect as Charles. 
His eyes met yours over the rim and he shrugged. “I still don’t know why you were so insistent on moving out in the first place.” 
You sighed, again. There weren’t many ways you could make yourself any clearer. Other than telling Charles one of the real reasons why you had to leave, which again, was more of a last resort (hopefully not at all) type of thing. “It was time—” 
“It was time for you to venture out on your own, yes, I know. But it doesn’t seem to be working out so well right now, does it not?” The last sentence seemed to slip out of Charles’ mouth before he knew what he was saying, because his mouth snapped shut right afterward. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I don’t want to argue.” 
But what had been done was done, what had been said was out there for you to know. Your coffee suddenly left a bitter taste in your mouth, and the traffic from outside became glaringly loud. The once peaceful atmosphere had been shattered now that you knew Charles’ true thoughts on it all. 
You stood up, letting your feet take you across the room from him. “No. Tell me more, Charles. Tell me how you really feel.” 
His nose wrinkled at the use of his full name. You never called him Charles unless you were upset with him, which wasn’t that often. Even hearing it come out of your own mouth seemed foreign. 
That seemed to change his reaction, because he stood too instead, doubling down on his words. “Okay. Yes, that is how I feel about you leaving. You barely even talked to me about it, and the next thing I knew, you were packing all your things into boxes! I didn’t understand where this—this sudden desire to leave came from. I still don’t.”
“You don’t have to understand it. It’s already done.” 
“Did I—did I do something wrong?”
You almost faltered. Almost.
“Did you ever think maybe me wanting to leave had nothing to do with you?” 
“Honestly? No. It feels like it has everything to do with me. It feels like you moved out because you didn’t want to be around me anymore!” Charles exclaimed. “And I have kept my mouth shut, I’ve been trying to be supportive of your decision, but I think I have a right to know. Am I why you wanted to leave so badly?” 
“That’s…part of it.” You admitted. Charles froze, brows flying up towards his hairline. “But not because of anything you did. Not because of the reason you’re thinking of.” 
“I don’t really see any other explanation. And I am sorry, but that is a shit excuse. I would’ve thought that you of all people would tell me the truth.” He didn’t sound angry, just disappointed and a little hurt. Somehow that felt worse. You’d rather him be mad at you than hurt by you. 
“I didn’t want to move out.” You said firmly. 
“Then why did you?” 
“I had to! I—I couldn’t live there anymore.” 
“But why?” He sounded desperate, begging for you to clue him in to any reason, anything at all that would help him understand. And god, as scared as you were of changing things by telling Charles how you really felt about him, you were infinitely more scared of losing him for good if you didn’t. 
“Because I’m fucking in love with you, Charles!” You blurted, finally. “I couldn’t live with you any longer, keeping this huge secret all the time, because it truly made me feel like I was about to explode. I just couldn’t do it anymore—pretend like everything was alright when every time I looked at you, all I could think about was how I felt about you! How much I felt for you.” Your voice rose with every word, emotion lacing your tone. 
You could feel the tears burning your eyes, threatening to fall no matter how much you willed them not to. “I just thought, maybe if we lived apart, if we didn’t see each other all the time, maybe those feelings would go away.” 
Charles blinked at you slowly. He scrubbed a hand over his cheek, across his mouth, letting it disappear into the neckline of his hoodie as he continued the motion near his jaw. Still, he said nothing. You weren’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad one, but still you continued. 
“So no, it wasn’t because of anything you did. Or maybe it was, for making it so fucking easy to fall in love with you. I don’t know. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t say anything to me, but I’m not sorry for making the decision on my own. It was for the best.”
There it was, out there in the open at last. It felt like a proverbial weight lifted off your shoulders, but at the same time like a thousand rocks sinking to the bottom of your stomach, because he wasn’t saying anything. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was how you’d fuck up the best friendship you’d ever had. 
Charles was silent for the longest time before he replied, and when he did, his voice was quieter than you’d ever heard it before. It felt unnerving. “You could’ve just told me.” 
“Told you?” You had to fight the urge to let out a bitter, watery laugh. “Telling your best friend you’ve fallen in love with him isn’t just something you mention at the bathroom sink one night.” 
“It is, if he feels the same way about you.” 
A coldness crept down your neck, shooting through your veins like you’d just had a bucket of ice cold water dumped over your head. 
“No you’re not—you don't...you can't.” You whispered, disbelieving.
Charles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “What, do you want me to prove it?” 
You couldn’t give him an answer even if you wanted to. You weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to say a damn word, just in case this was all a dream and you'd wake up any second, still alone, still without him there.
He must’ve taken your silence as a yes to his question, because he crossed the room in three strides, took your face in firm hands, and he kissed you. 
Despite your utter shock, you managed to kiss him back clumsily, fingers curling into his hoodie tightly. Charles kissed you like he was afraid to let you go, like you’d slip through his fingers if he wasn’t careful enough.
A guiding hand curled around the back of your neck, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss, but only for a few seconds before he broke away, panting. His forehead stayed pressed against yours, soulful green eyes boring into your own in total seriousness.
“Do you believe me now?” 
“Maybe.” You breathed, letting your nose bump against his gently. This was not a dream. Charles was real and here and one hell of a kisser (just as you suspected).
“I am in love with you.” He murmured, stroking his thumb over your cheek fondly. “I have been for a long time. And I never thought you would feel the same way.” 
“I love you, Cha.” You were suddenly brought back to last night, when you’d uttered the same words to him. Only this time, they had a whole different meaning to them. 
This time, you knew Charles loved you in the same way you loved him.
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buttdumplin · 2 months
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finishing up my surgery prep and can't help but think the boys, gorgeous fools that they are, build in an "orgasm schedule" into the weeks of prep because they know the 6-8 weeks of no-touch recovery is gonna leave you all starving, so they better get as many as they can in
A/N: Inspired by, and thus for, @mikichko
cw: poly 141, gn!reader, established relationship, oral (reader receiving), p in v sex, ass play, reader's genitals referred to as "clit" "pussy" "cunt"
simon's got the mornings, when you're most pliable, body still warm from sleep, drifting in and out of focus. he'll pull your back to his chest and wind his arms around to pluck and pinch at your nipples until you're squirming in his arms and whining as you try to move his hands lower. such a pretty pet, the rumbling of his voice deeper from sleep, always so good for us, deserve a little treat, hm? big hands of his sneaking under your shirt to roll your nipples between his finger and shoving into your undies, cupping your pussy innocently as you try to grind against him, only lightly tracing your pussy lips with the tip of his middle finger, pressing his straining cock against your ass, hips rolling just enough to slide his cock between your cheeks for some friction. only gives in and sinking a finger into you when your breathy whimpering sounds threaten to wake the others. brings his mouth to your ear to softly coo at you as his fingers move, pussy so wet you can take a second finger and then a third in no time, doing so well, dove, take what you need, moving his palm to grind against your clit. you cum so hard you practically lock his fingers into place, rendering you both immobile as licks the sweat off your neck and you finally open your eyes, but he won't complain. with that sweet dazed smile on your face? there's nowhere else he'd rather be. plus, if he waits for you to get up first, he can steal those soaked panties for later
kyle gets all of midday, up until dinner, and he milks every minute for all its worth. he'll lure you into the kitchen only to bend you over the counter so he can rip your bottoms down so he can dive face first into your pussy, his hands spreading your cheeks so he can coat his face in your juices, absolutely fucking divine, love spoken against your skin, tongue moving through your folds and only stopping to harshly suck at your clit, his stubble brushing lightly over your lips in a way that has you clenching down around his tongue. he'll find you in the living room and gently ease you onto the big ottoman in the center of the room, parting your legs wide, making a display out of you for the rest of the boys so fucking gorgeous and all ours too, fucking you with his fingers and sucking on your clit until you're squirting and drenching his shirt, the boys' groans growing as he impales you on his thick cock, your own cries breathless from the force of his thrusts, leaving a creamy ring at the base of his cock that has him delirious. in a spark of impulse, you push him off, scrambling to your hands and knees, chanting pleasepleaseplease as you arch your back and present to him, lovely cunt glistening, men swearing all around you, and kyle knows what you want, what you need, reaching for the packet of lube in the pocket of his discarded jeans i've got you love, i got you. takes his time easing you back onto his cock, holding your hip with one hand to keep you from rocking back against him, fingers digging into the fat, exactly where they belong, his other hand coating your asshole with the lube, thumb gently working in, matching the slow rhythm of his thrusts, until his hips are flush to your ass and you've taken his entire thumb. you keen from the stimulation and attention, not lasting very long after that, the sound and feel of him spitting on your asshole and fucking it into you with his thumb, his harsh thrusts making you squirt again, the sight so stunning he can't help cumming deep inside you
the hours leading up to dinner are johnny's, he keeps you busy while the food is getting cooked, making a full meal out of you in the meantime. has you climbing into bed and sitting on his face, arms locked around your thighs so he can stay drowning in your juices, groaning and bucking his hips helplessly the moment he gets his mouth on you fuck, you're so perfect, unable to keep up the gentle kisses he starts with and opening his mouth to receive as much of you as he can, biting softly to make you gasp and soothing the spot with the warmth of his tongue. loves eating kyle's cum from you, even pushing a hand against your belly to ease out what he can't reach give it to me, darling, moaning long and low at the taste of you two. uses the bump of his nose to grind against your clit, his hands forcing you to rock back and forth against him and ride him for what he's worth, smearing your cunt all over his mouth and chin, tilting you just enough to get his tongue in your ass, enjoying how your body jerks when he hums against you. waits until he feels your thighs trembling around him to wrap his mouth around your clit, tongue flicking and chin crushed against your pussy lips, sharp eyes open to watch as you fall apart above him. won't let you move until he's licked you clean
bedtime belongs to price. he gets you when you're worn out from the day, body tired and malleable under him, soft sounds slipping from your lips as he thrusts steady and slow into your cunt, his arms caging you in, creating a world of just you two. buries his face into your neck to cover you in kisses, his beard leaving your skin tender to the touch and much more receptive to the feeling of his mouth on you, teeth nipping raised little marks along the way so perfect, sweetheart, always treating us so well. crushes you with his body, easing his weight onto you to make you feel just what you're welcoming into your arms, wanting to pressed together at every point of contact possible, slow hard thrusts rocking you both as he bullies his fact cock into your cunt. his chest hair brushes against your nipples, making your nails dig into those wide shoulders, flesh giving way as he growls with approval that's right, mark your territory, take what's yours, his hips jerking harder into you. leans back just enough to get your nipple in his mouth, sucking hard and biting, his hand making its way down your body to pinch your clit between two fingers and rub tight circles with his thumb, chuckling at the way your body arches into his touch, voice rough when he lifts his head best give me what's mine. worried for a minute that you might not be able to after such a full day, you freeze for a moment, but the burning warmth spreading through you from this slow rich orgasm soothes you, melting you back into his arms, cunt pulsing heavy around him, milking him through his last stuttering thrusts, his moans filling your ears
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silkythewriter · 4 months
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Hello! Can I request alastor x reader where the two were married while they were alive, but reader died via illness or something and went to hell (though they never partaked in the cannibalism) and the reunite in hell?
“I'll love you 'til I'm dead”
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Warning!: Angst, but eventually fluff! A bit of OOC since I haven’t written in awhile.. (.,.)💧
Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!
Author note: LONGGGGG TIME NO SEE, HIYA! IM SO SORRY FOR MY HIATUS OF SORTS BUT I FELT LIKE WRITING SUM SMALL ♡´・ᴗ・`♡ I apologize!, I hope you guys enjoy and I’m so sorry for disagreeing yet again!.
Summary!: Spouse! Reader dying via sickness, but reuniting with alastor in hell.
ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ
Louise (Louise)
I'll love you 'til I'm dead
Louise (Louise)
Not even if she likes the way you dance
ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ
First of all, he cherished you to the fullest content. As stuck up as he seems to be smile and all, he was in desperate need of support and attention. And you supplying both of those was all he needed even if he didn’t say out loud the tender touches and moments you both shared alone was enough to tell you everything.
Your relationship was nothing less then sweet and tender, and depending if you knew of his..ahem..little side hobby, it was innocent as well!
He cared for you so deeply, so desperately, to the point where you became his tie to humanity. Of course he knew how to play a role of a sane man, but even then he needed you to tie him to the small humanity and sanity he had.
Although not a big fan of physical affection himself he would in private of course, indulge in your soft touches, and hold. He and there he may quietly slip next to you just so you could softly run you fingers across his skin.
But of course the unviable happen, as the world ripped him of what he held so dear. Maybe as a punishment for his sins and misdeeds, or simply because it could.
Of course in the 30’s medicine was far from advanced, not only that but expensive. So when the news arrived of your newly found sickness all he could do was smile and nod at the doctor as if he wasn’t receiving the most dreadful news.
At first, he genuinely did hope for a recovery, he believed you would get better. Sure a tiny voice in his head was feeding him scary thoughts, and his gut twisted and turned. He felt something was off but surely it was nothing!, right?.
But as your health deteriorated so did his mental state and sanity, even worse then it once was. He put up a front though, for your sake and his, comforting you and saying how you’ll be fine soon, and recover then both of you could go off and do something you always wanted to do.
At some points of repeating this it really turned into him assuring himself. That your not leaving him, no, not anytime soon.
The more you fell ill the more you watched him spiral infront of you. And all you really could do was stare at him with sadden eyes as you gave comforting touches against his cheek or holding him close, even if you could barely pull yourself up from the bed you laid.
You felt your time coming close to ending, and somehow so did he. But unlike you he denied it to the fullest extent.
“Please dear don’t speak of such things, don’t worry yourself. You’ll be fine you’ll see!, now just rest my dear”
He wanted to believe it’ll pass over anytime now, ignoring the doctors he spent fortunes on. And sometimes he does blame them even if they just told the truth. He hated how they couldn’t help you, how he couldn’t help you.
So the day of you passing was the day he lost his final tie to humanity. If not for you, why give such a nasty world mercy?.
ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ
The minute they lowered your casket and buried you with the dirt is also the day he decided to amp up his murders.
He’s not sloppy with his murders their always calculated and tidy but grossem. Even with this, losing you he couldn’t concentrate which didn’t help his case as his blood lust grew and grew.
Each and every murder his mind went blank, thoughts of you kept flooding in that he desperately wanted to rip from his mind.
If a woman that wore you same fragrant passed him. She would be gone in a matter of days.
Nights were colder, harsher, he always assumed karma would catch up to him, but to him not you.
He often questioned what happened how did it happen. How did you even get such a illness?, and why did it have to be you?. We’re you in heaven watching him in his pitiful state? Was there even such a thing?. If there was…he surely wasn’t going to see you he knew where he was damned to go, but you?, he was sure you deserved the Pearl-ist set of wings.
Depending on the days, months or years following your death, he’s like a ticking time bomb.
He yearns for you in such a way he’s humiliated at it in a way. He misses you desperately, widowed too soon, he always assumed it would be you to be in this position, but he assumed wrong.
Even then he couldn’t tell if he could subject you to the twist of his heart and guts. He would beg to die before you, but the pain he feels now is something he would never want you to feel.
Following thoughts of your death was also his. Would he get to see you soon?, one last glance before being damned?.
He never truly moved on, cause you were his only love. Loving someone for him atleast, was rare in a romantic sense.
At some point he genuinely does just continue his murders till his death, maybe it was your passing that truly killed him. After your passing he was a bit hasty, maybe that’s what lead him to be shot in the woods. But who truly knows?
ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ
Now, after his death is where everything truly came together.
His rise to power was fairly quick killing overloads one by one gaining more voices on his radio.
But the lingering feeling of hope stayed in him…maybe you were here? Waiting for him?, But at the same time he hated this life for you, in such a miserable and disgusting yet admittedly amusing place(at least to him)
Now depending on how you found him maybe the minute his radio debuted. Or maybe by a game of telephone by the residents in hell whispering rumors and describing someone all to familiar to you.
Either way! You guys do eventually find each other. By chance or destiny is up to you
The minute he spots you, hears you, even senses you, he freezes. His smile never flattering but static surrounding the area as he processes what’s happening. Is this some sort of trick?, how..how did you end up here?
In a matter a seconds though he’s in front of you, looming as his shadow grows in suspense.
He holds his appearance and self image very important but in this tiny moment of silence. He lets it slip even if just a bit, smile never faltering but I’m his eyes a glimpse of renewed joy. Genuine joy, not form the harms of others but from something warm…something bitter sweet.
Maybe it’s you who pipes up snapping him from observing you like a painting in a museum.
“See?” You said softly grabbing his hand gently like you used to do, as you softly brought it to your face and softly planted it on your cheek. “I’m real” you said with a soft smile (SILENT HILL REFERENCE!!¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
Depending on where you are he’s quick to whisk you away to somewhere secluded.
Despite the questions on his mind all he can do is silently stare at you taking in ever detail, even if some changes here and there, you were still you. The you that he missed so desperately for all too long.
Even if not one for physical affection he’s quick with holding you, scared of you being taken from him again, taking in all he can.
Your so much more precious then he leads on, and he’ll be damned to second hell if he loses you again.
In the period of first meeting you again he is keen on keeping an eye one you 24/7, doesn’t matter what powers or how long you survived without him in hell. He can’t risk it, especially not now as he started accumulating enemies so quickly.
He’ll treat you like it’s your first time dating, of course in his old time-y way, but either surprising you with flowers at random times of the day, or watching you get giddy when he kisses the crown of your head.
Now that he knows, and felt the pain of losing you, every moment you have together form than on is cherished more than before. He remembers every day with you like the back of his hand, what you ate, what you said, what you wore, and more!
He know’s…he knows he’s a messed up, and vail man. He understands the gruesome things he’s done with little to no regret. But if he did in somehow and some way do good, something good to earn you back in his afterlife man is he greatful for it.
Some nights he does just stare at you. He’s scared, he will never show it but he is. If he loses you again, for eternity, he’s not sure what’d he do with himself. And that, the fact you weight so heavily on him is the second scariest thing, first being losing you.
Over all, he’s taken aback having you back, but he gets use to it very quickly, your soft comforting touches and your voice that brings back a flood of memories is something he will never forget nor let ago, he isn’t losing you this time, and he’ll do anything to make sure of that.
ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ
WOW THAT WAS LONG, I LOVED WRITING IT THOUGH OH MY GOSH I LOVED THIS IDEA, PLEASE REQUEST AGAIN!!! \(^ヮ^)/
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leclerity · 3 months
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stupid gets you killed
Charles Leclerc x Girlfriend!Reader count: 1.1k words summary: Charles and you have an emotional conversation after his reckless driving at a race. a/n: a short but angsty one, with a happy ending!
It could’ve been the end.
The way it felt, it almost was.
You watch as the red of the Ferrari and the green of the Aston Martin come close, inches apart, with Stroll nearly putting it in the back of your boyfriend’s car. Everyone around you gasps and for a split second, you see them touch and Charles’s car fly off into the grandstands – but that doesn’t happen. They don’t touch. Charles drives away unscathed, though you know that won’t be the end of it.
“That was too close,” says Arthur, shaking his head at the screen.
“He won’t like this too much,” you say and grab a pair of headphones lying around, listening in.
Everything is okay with the car, Bryan Bozzi says.
That was not okay! Charles screams. Who does he think he is?! Driving like an idiot… He should know better!
Keep your head calm, you’ve got forty laps to go.
You take off the headphones and tell Arthur what you just overheard. He shakes his head again, but you both know there’s nothing the two of you can do about it. Charles has been under pressure, ready to burst at any given moment, running second in the championship with maybe—maybe—a chance at something more. Anything that threatens it… Well, it throws him off.
You’re just waiting for the moment it happens.
The race keeps running, you listen in to the radio every so often, and his complaints and agitation are getting more obvious. He’s driving riskier, not caring enough about tyre management, and there’s a few moments when his car gets a little too close to another car.
He finishes in fourth. It’s not where he wanted to be but it’s better than out of the race, you tell yourself. There was a few moments where you held your breath, waiting to see if the anger is going to slip into careless mistakes, and it made you angry. Your boyfriend is better than this.
When he finishes the race, you run straight into his arms. “You did so well! I’m proud of you.”
“I could’ve done better,” he says.
“I know,” you say, and kiss him again. “Next time.”
Charles kisses you, too, before going to speak to others in the garage, keeping one eye on you at all times. You know he’s being hard on himself, but you see his clenched jaw, sunken shoulders, and you know this is going to be a tougher one than usual.
He’s in your orbit the most of the evening, glancing at you even when he’s in the media pen. You can hear some of the questions he’s being asked and a lot of them are about the incident and about his dangerous driving he nearly got a penalty for, and you can already hear the regret in his voice. He looks at you every time it comes up, as if he already knows how much it upset you.
At your side, Arthur gives you a nudge. “Are you going to talk some sense into him when you’re back at the hotel?”
“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”
“That was scary.”
You nod. “Too scary. I get the pressure and all, but…”
“Yeah,” Arthur says, “I don’t want to feel like I might lose my brother because he’s being angry and stupid.”
When you get home, you get dinner – he does the perfunctory celebrations and goes back to the hotel, where you’re waiting with him with your guys’ favourite takeaway. He had some time to hang out with the other drivers and now it’s time to hang out with you… But not before you give him a piece of mind.
He knows something’s wrong the moment he enters the hotel room.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” you say.
He frowns. “Okay. You sure?”
You give him a long look.
Charles sits down next to you, looking exhausted but ready to devour the food – but he doesn’t. Instead, he sits with his elbows on his knees, hands held together. “It’s the race.”
“Mhm.”
“That’s why you’re giving me attitude.”
“Mhm.”
“Is it because of the Stroll incident?”
You shake your head. He should know better and he does, it will just take him a moment.
He sighs and leans into the couch, a defeated look on his face. “I should’ve handled it better, right?”
“Yeah.” You put a hand on his thigh. “Driving like that, Charles… You could’ve gotten hurt.”
“I would’ve been fine.”
“You don’t know that!”
“Babe—”
“Don’t babe me,” you say, shaking your head. “You got angry and…. Anger makes you stupid. Stupid gets you killed.”
Charles opens his mouth and closes it, knowing fair well that there’s nothing he could say in his defence that would make you change your mind. He sees it all on your face, you know it – the terror you’d gone through waiting to see if his anger will make him slip up, make a mistake; the threat of losing him.
He takes your hand in his and kisses the back of it, before placing it on his chest, right where his heart is. “Y/N,” he says, gently. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let my anger get the best of me.”
“I just… I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I know.”
“It frightens me.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I just—The thought of you—”
“I know. C’mere.”
Charles gives your hand a gentle tug and then your head is on his chest and his arms are wrapped around you, keeping you warm and safe. “I’m sorry for scaring you. My job is scary, but I shouldn’t make it any more difficult than it already is.”
He kisses the top of your head and you feel a few tears escaping down your cheeks, and he holds you even tighter.
“I’ll be less angry next time, I promise,” he whispers. “Less stupid. For you. Okay?”
You nod instead of answering, and he pulls your chin up with a gentle finger, and then he’s wiping your tears and kissing you gently, promising over and over again to never make you feel like that again – and he doesn’t.
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xo-codbby · 15 hours
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thinking about poly werewolf!141 stretching you out for them
18+, cockwarming, anal, p in v, just sex honestly lmao
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it becoming a weekly thing for you now that they were heading into heat soon and you were the most willing to help them out and relieve some stress. when the touches become lingering and the kisses become fervent and soft growls and whines falling from their lips, you know its time
first it's price that breaks you in, soothing your sweet cries with soft kisses as he holds you. he's pressed under you, his back against the couch as you're in his lap. his lips peppering soft kisses against your shoulder blades as he buries his knot deep in your ass. it hurt at first but tinged with pleasure, you're already completely overwhelmed. him marking you at the back of your neck growling softly as he humps into you, keeping your body still and open massaging the soft bulge he managed to create inside you, "there's a good girl. y'look so pretty for us, sweetheart"
it's ghost who settles himself into your wet cunt, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as his eyes close momentarily. hands gripped around your thighs, filling you up. you feel every movement, locked on both price's and now ghost's cock. you were completely full, soft whimpers and moans falling from your lips as his tongue slowly licks your chest clamping gently on your neck as he sucks a bruise on your skin. humming in contentment. he groans softly when you squeeze around him, thrusting softly into you to ease his knot in further, "easy love, tight little pussy's swallowing me up so good"
then it's soap gently easing his swollen cock against your pretty lips, cooing at you to swallow as much as you can. you haven't been trained to go all the way down their shift just yet especially not over their swollen knots so you settle just sucking the head of his aching cock instead. he groans softly his hand in your hair gently humping into your warm wet mouth while he strokes your face massaging those cheeks around him further, "aw look at you hen, s'fucking beautiful takin my cock like you were meant for it"
gaz giving your pussy soft spanks enjoying the way you clenched around them while he lazily strokes his cock. his grin widening as you cum around them once more. his mouth sucking softly on your nipples feeling them harden against your tongue as he coos softly at your state. usually your hand will rub and stroke him but he's not too fussed, teasing or playing with one of the other boys as he kisses on you, "so needy, babygirl. easy easy, y'doing so good for us"
and when you're too tired to continue, they either wrap you up in a big pile all protecting you from different sides. petting your hair as they kiss over their small marks, holding you close to their bodies. or you rest against one of them while the other three play about with each other, either giving you a show or fucking around until they fall fast asleep in each others arms
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letshaikyuu · 5 months
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pretty setter squad (kageyama, akaashi, oikawa) with their s/o post-practice
a/n: lol hello, I honestly just come here when I am knees deep in uni shit and I should be writing a paper rn but I am writing this heh. hope you all are happy and healthy, and wishing you a lovely month of May soon!
warning: oh definitely some grammar mistakes so i apologize if that triggers you :3
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KAGEYAMA TOBIO
y'all know our boy is dead tired after practice and needed much persuading to finish practice, let alone come home. he only wishes to jump in the shower, eat a hearty meal, lay down in bed, and not move. most of the time he does forget to text you once he's back home, but it's mostly because he's dead tired and wants to chill. he'd be super confused and apologetic at the same time if you were disappointed and/or anxious if he didn't text you that he was home.
if you two don't live together, I imagine him finishing his post-practice routines and then laying down in bed with his washed hair wetting the pillow while he waits for you to video call him. I don't think he'd be the one to initiate a conversation first, especially when he is one minute away from falling asleep, but he does admit that hearing your voice before bed is the best thing ever. while on call, you would do most of the talking, while he nods and occasionally chuckles in amusement, until ultimately dozing off while on call. make sure to take a lot of screenshots of that face because he can either have the most peaceful look on his face and you just have to have that angelic face in your gallery; or he can have the most ridiculous type of face on, with a lil drool, some snoring happening...
if you two do live together, you'd be greeted with a sweaty body just dropping its total weight on you because he's just so tired and also wants to annoy you with him being all sweaty and smelly on you. it's difficult to actually get him to move, especially because he gets rather comfortable in such a position. when you finally get him off, he goes off to shower and spends so much time there you're pretty sure he falls asleep there. he asks you to prepare a hot cup of milk for him once he gets out. you'd get such a gentle kiss on your cheek or lips because he is already dozing off and it'd be such an adorable sight, especially with his freshly washed and dried hair tickling the softness of your cheek and the smell of his body wash enveloping the both of you.
ngl, he would easily fall asleep without you in bed because he's just dead tired lol
AKAASHI KEIJI
he never forgets to call and/or text you once he's done and out of the gym because he knows you'd be worried otherwise. if you live together, he makes sure to ask you if you need anything from the convenience store and also asks you to prepare a hot cup of tea for him (for the two of you if you are also a tea drinker). even if you say you don't need anything from the store, he stops by and buys your favorite snacks and some of his own. i do think his favorite thing to do post-practice is to sit down on the couch with you and talk about your day. i do headcanon him to have a sweet tooth, so he is enjoying that cup of tea with some crackers or cookies and definitely enjoys hearing some of your tea ngl.
even though he is super tired, he cannot fall asleep without you beside him. he finds it interesting how dependent he has become on you, especially if you have moved in together recently. if he is not super tired, he'd move to the bed with a book by his side and read until you're finished with your evening routine and lie down. if he is exhausted, then he forgoes the book, he then lays down and toys with your pillowcase so he doesn't fall asleep. if you take long he definitely closes his eyes and then jolts awake once you get in bed, but he only pulls you closer, kisses you, and falls asleep.
akaashi who does not live with you is fairly similar. while walking back to his house, he'd call you and chat with you until he arrives. you'd end the call while he finishes his shower (maybe not) and dinner, and he'd call you right back once he's done. he then sits down in bed with a cup of tea and a cookie or two on his bedside table, his phone in an active call with you. he may be tired but makes sure to listen to you intently, and when he is almost falling asleep, he apologizes for not paying more attention to you (because he's such a sweetheart like that ngl) and then gives you one of those air kisses before turning around and ultimately falling asleep.
OIKAWA TOORU
he ALWAYS calls you when he's done with practice because this guy has tea to spill from the day. he is so enthusiastic and vibrant that you would think he went out for a cup of coffee and not coming back from volleyball practice. legend says (aka iwaizumi) that he is a part of the Walking Dead in the locker room but always puts on the best version of himself when you're around. when he's finally at the front of his house, he makes sure to be as quiet as possible so he doesn't wake his family up and then says he'll call you once he's in bed.
now, Oikawa does sometimes fall asleep without showering or anything which is definitely a shocking statement for someone as tidy and clean as Oikawa, I can easily imagine him just face-planting on his bed and saying he'd get up in 5 minutes and just falling asleep lol. however, that's a rare occasion and also he'd wake up once you text/call him anyway. you will be on a video call while he's doing his skincare routine because he needs to show you that soft-ass skin and all his products.
oikawa who lives with you is very much needy once he's back home. he wants a hug as soon as he's home because he misses you so much and he'd like to have dinner together with you. i don't think he's the best cook out there, but he knows how to prepare some bomb-ass meals for pre-/post-workouts. of course, if you're not up for that he can stomach a cup of ramen. the night is not complete without him spilling the tea on every mishap that happened during practice and also inquiring about your day. he falls asleep on the couch and spills whatever food he's holding in his hands. this leads to him startling awake and screaming at the mess he's made...it's never a dull moment with this guy.
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lyyhyuck · 5 months
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fluff; bestfriend!haechan x reader, words: 565.
🎧 chasing cars - snow patrol and there is a light that never goes out - the smiths
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“every time i’m here, i get jealous of your blanket. seriously what material is this? its crazy how its so soft. i’ve never had bed sheets this soft”, your best friend, haechan, said, truly sounding amazed. you looked over and saw that he completely buried himself in your blanket, only his head sticking out.
it made you laugh lightly, but you didn’t answer. you focused on your homework while haechan just enjoyed doing nothing and lying around. the room was filled with the smell of tea. your cup freshly refilled and hot, while haechan‘s cup was only half full and already cold, standing on your night stand.
“and im jealous of you because you can lay there stress-free”, you replied, but facing him with your back since you’re sitting at your desk. he watched you doing your assignment for a minute or two, not wanting to interrupt you because he knew you get the most amount of stuff done when you’re in a ‘flow’ like now.
you apologized to your best friend for having to work first and put on headphones and finished your work in about thirty minutes. when you turned around on your desk chair, you see haechan has dozed off. a soft smile spread on your lips and you decided to let him nap for a while. you packed your bag for the next day, then grabbed your phone and made yourself comfortable on the space that was left of your bed, being careful not to wake him up.
another twenty minutes passed before haechan woke up, stretching and yawning. “rise and shine!” you greeted him. he laughed quietly, “shut up”.
“i’d really like to have my bed back”, you said. “too bad it’s mine now”, hyuck sticked out his tongue at you. you shrugged, “not like we haven’t shared a bed before”, and lifted up the blanket to get under it too. “hey, move!”, you told haechan, who just stared at you at first but then did move. you snuggled into your sheets, which were indeed very cozy - haechan did not exaggerate this time - and didn’t even notice how your best friend tensed up next to you.
“sorry”, you mumbled, “you probably expected a more exciting hang out than this.”
“no”, haechan said, “i knew what i signed up for when i texted this morning.”
you had to laugh, “why would you want to hang out here when i would be busy studying? are my sheets really that great?” haechan smiled “well yeah they are great. but-“, he paused, “i just wanted to spend time with you”. your heart melted at the way he looked at you. the moment suddenly felt very intimate.
your body acted before you could think and you snuggled into haechans side. he wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on top of yours.
the room fell quiet for a while and you just enjoyed the moment, butterflys dancing around in your stomach.
“you know”, you hesitantly said, “i just wanted to spend time with you, too.” haechan kissed the crown of your head then. immediately, your cheeks turned red but you turned around to look him in the eyes nonetheless. you grinned, “i would always choose your company over anything even if it means that i study while you sleep”.
haechan kissed you.
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pupkashi · 6 months
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volvi a nacer
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gojo feels life start anew now that you’re by his side
a/n: hi hi friends ! this is heavily inspired by this song !! i think it’s so sweet and yeah <3 (unrelated but my bf sent me it i was geeking out for a week ok) ALSO GIGI (@4sat0ruu) I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS SO MUCH MY FELLOW LATINA 🙏🙏🙏; slightly latinx coded reader bc i can !
wordcount - 2,737
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translations: mi amor // my love, hermoso(a) // beautiful, mi corazon // my heart, cariño // sweetheart
there was time in gojo satoru’s life that he felt his life had essentially ended. he felt isolated, like no one would ever fill the void he felt in his chest.
he didn’t think he had anyone to lean on when he needed it, opting for a façade of cockiness and jokes when anyone asked if he was alright.
you saw through it all. with a concerned frown on your face as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could and squeezing him.
“i don’t need your hugs, y/n,” he scoffed, hoping you didn’t hear the wobble in his voice, “I’m the strongest, i can take on anything by myself.”
“I’m sure you can, but you don’t have to,” you whispered, not letting go for a second. you heard the tremble in his breath, the hitch in his throat when he heard your next words, “I’m right here, you’ll be okay.”
for a split second satoru saw the world for all its warmth and love rather than its faults and challenges. he felt the love and support he’d only ever imagined, the suns warm rays hitting his skin as you held him tightly.
it faded as you pulled away, and he could hear nobara and yuji yelling in the distance, toge and yuta laughing at something.
“I’ll be here if you need me, okay?” you reassure him, your hand lingers on his shoulder for a bit before you walk away.
you’re only two steps away when you feel satoru gently grab your wrist, letting go not even a second after he did. when you turn to face him he looks shocked, as if he didn’t have control of his own body for a second.
“uh- can-” he stumbles over his words, not knowing exactly what to say and not exactly having the courage to say whatever they were.
“yeah, i can,” you smile softly, taking his hand in yours, “how about we get some food, when’s the last time you had actual food and not take out or sweets?” you question.
satoru rolls his eyes, scoffing before counting the days on his fingers, “it hasn’t been that long,” he mumbles, smiling a bit when you shake your head and laugh at him.
it’s been three years since then, somewhere along the way the line of caring friend and something more had been crossed, pinkies interlinking during movie night, a stolen kiss in a maintenance closet when hiding from an upset yaga.
he’s not exactly sure what’s making him reminisce on that day. maybe he’s recalling the way the sunshine felt on his skin, the way it does now as it pours in through the blinds, landing on his bare chest.
“you didn’t snore this time” you mumble, voice a bit hoarse as you wake up.
satoru grins, “I told you I’d stop,” you can’t help but half laugh, cuddling up to him more, “I’d do anything you ask of me sweets.”
“it’s 9 in the morning and you’re already professing your undying love?” you tease, just barely opening your eyes to look at your lover, who’s already staring right back at you, soft smile adorning his beautiful face.
“would do it all hours of the day if you’d let me,” he replies, not missing a beat. you can only chuckle softly, letting your head rest on his chest. your hair tickles him a bit but he ignores it, focusing on the way your index fingers draws random patterns on his abdomen.
satoru lets his mind wander, he thinks how lucky he is.
how lucky he was to be given a second chance at life, to be able to come back from a place so dark, to now be able to quite literally be bathed in sunlight and tender touches.
“where’d you go?” you whisper, adjusting yourself on your side and letting your arm prop you up. satoru is reeled back in, snowy lashes kissing his cheeks gently as he lays on his side to face you.
“thinking ‘bout how lucky i am,” he mumbles, staring at you for a second before a soft smile overtakes his lips, “I love you.” the words never fail to make you smile, you never miss a beat to respond, “i love you more, angel boy.”
“there isn’t anything i wouldn’t do for you, you know that right?” he’s focusing on the fuzz of the blanket rather than your eyes, looking up only when you hum in response.
“what if you have to fight off the most talented swordsman in the world for me?” you tease, he’s smiling at you as he sits up.
“then I’ll get a sword and do what i have to do to not lose you,” he answers like it’s the most simple thing in the world, “I’ve fought off worse haven’t i?” his cockiness makes you roll your eyes and chuckle, sitting up and kissing his cheek before stretching and finally getting out of bed.
“i guess so, you’re too strong for any of my hypotheticals,” you mumble, the taller man following you into the restroom, brushing your teeth together before heading into the living room.
“what do you want for breakfast?” satoru asks, his hands are already reaching for the ingredients for an omelette, recalling how you’d been craving one since last night but fell asleep as soon as you’d gotten home.
“what’s on the menu today, chef gojo?” you smile, moving from the couch to the kitchen bar, watching as he took out four eggs and various veggies and meats.
“how ‘bout that omelette you were dreaming of yesterday, sweetheart?” he’s grinning as he cracked an egg open with one hand over the bowl, a trick you’d taught him that took him the course of two cartons of eggs.
“you’re too perfect mi amor,” the words make his ears turn bright red, face flushed as he continues his fluid movements in the kitchen.
three years ago had someone told you the satoru gojo could make omelettes and crack eggs with one hand you would’ve laughed in their face, betting your life savings and then some against the snowy haired sorcerer.
yet here you are; three years, lots of broken eggs, burnt food and nights in the restroom later- you watch the love of your life make you an omelette.
the two of you eat breakfast over small talk, telling him of your plans for the day.
“I’ve gotta run some errands today, i hope traffic isn’t too bad” you trail off, mentally checking all the things you had to do.
“i can drive if you want,” he shrugs, chugging down the last bit of orange juice in his cup before grabbing your plate and placing them in the sink. “i don’t have anything else going on.”
you smile at your lover, “you don’t have to drive me around everywhere, you know that right?” satoru knew your distaste for being behind the wheel, he only saw it as an opportunity to pamper you and treat you like the royalty you were.
“i know, but i love driving you everywhere,” he grins, walking next to where you were seated and bending over to kiss your temple, “I’ll be your loyal chauffeur for as long as you’ll have me, hermosa.” the word is foreign on his tongue, it slips past his lips naturally, just the way you’d been teaching him common phrases.
“hermosa? who’d you learn that one from?” fighting the smile off your face was a predestined loss, barely hiding how over the moon you were at the new pet name. your words are teasing as you stand from the kitchen bar, stopping right in front of your lover, looking up at him.
“duolingo was hitting on me, actually,” satoru replies, a dimpled smile on his face when your arms snake around his neck, pulling him downwards so his lips met yours.
“can duo fight?” you laugh between kisses, pressing a softer kiss to the tip of his nose before detaching yourself from him.
satoru is ready before you, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching- no admiring, your every move as you get ready. his mind is filled with a whirlwind of compliments he can’t seem to get out, overcome with an overwhelming sense of love for you.
you’re an aura of warmth, kindness and love, and angel sent for him. a caring soul, who nurtured him back to health; through late night calls that ended with you in his apartment or vice versa, gentle reminders and tight hugs helping him through his toughest nights. through forced outings to fairs and arcades, despite his protests that he has been doing things other than working with his students and going on missions (he hadn’t).
it had taken time, but satoru had healed.
your love had healed him.
“oh i can’t do movie night Friday” you frowned, watching as the second and first years trained.
“oh? why’s that” satoru was caught off guard, you’d never been one to cancel on him.
“i- uh- I’ve got a date, actually” you chuckle, staring at your finger nails before looking at the man next to you.
“a date?” he repeated, heart sinking and stomach falling as you nodded with a smile.
“nanami set me up with them, didn’t know he actually had friends besides us,” you smiled, trying your best to ease the palpable tension.
you’d gotten up and left shortly after that, some lame excuse he can’t remember now. he did remember angrily walking into nanami’s office, accusing him of hating satoru and wanting to see him suffer.
“have you thought of- i don’t know, maybe telling y/n how you feel?” kento sighs, trying his best to focus on the report he was filling out before satoru had barged in.
satoru hadn’t thought of that, but he took his friends advice and marched up to you three hours later, confessing his feelings upfront.
“don’t go on that date, they don’t deserve you,” he began, immediately taking you back, “and maybe i don’t either but just give me one chance and i swear you won’t regret it.”
“what’s up with you today? maybe you shouldn’t drive” your words pull him out of his memory, blinking once, then twice before fully coming back to his senses.
“do you remember when you told me you had that date?” he asks, watching as you furrows your brows, the corners of your lips turning upwards as you recall the memory.
“oh yeah! then you confessed like an hour later” satoru nods, blushing a bit. “what about it?” you ask, moving to sit next to him, taking his larger hand in yours, tracing soothing circles into his skin with your thumb.
“i didn’t even know i liked you then,” he admits, “i just felt this terrible feeling in my stomach and yelled at nanami for wanting to ruin my life.” the revelation makes you smile a bit, “he told me to tell you that i liked you and only then did it dawn upon me that i had romantic feelings for you.” satoru laughs at himself now, looking at you with sparkling blue eyes.
“well, you were- and still are a bit of a dummy” you mumble, pulling his arm so satoru can lean against you, letting you rest your head atop his. “my silly angel boy.”
angel boy.
the first time he heard you say that he quite literally stopped in his tracks, smiling from ear to ear before picking you up and spinning you around. ‘say it again!’ he kept asking, blushing just as hard every time the pet name left your mouth.
satoru loves grocery shopping with you, checking off things as you put them in the cart. he thinks you look angelic against the backdrop of produce, heart fluttering as you look for the best bunch of cilantro.
he could do this for the rest of his life, he thinks to himself. the realization makes him bump against the display, thankful nothing fell over.
satoru gojo wants to marry you.
he wants nothing more in his life than to be with you for as long as he could. he wants to spend his mornings and nights besides you, he wants to make you breakfast and help you cook dinner, he wants to wash the dishes because you hate washing them, he wants to wake up to Cumbia and bachata on Sunday mornings as you clean, joining you and singing in broken Spanish as you serenade him with a broom.
it’s not as romantic as he’d once imagined, he thought the realization would come to him as the wind blew through your hair, or the golden rays of the sun kissed your cheeks.
instead he’s watching you pick out a two pack of steak, looking at him with a wide smile, “the prices dropped!” you grin, giddy as you happily put the meat into the cart, practically skipping down the line of raw meats.
he can hear his heartbeat in his ears as he wonder what to do next, mindlessly following you around the grocery store with the cart, every aisle affirming the fact that you’re the only one for him, especially as you tell him to get one sweet treat for the week as you go and get the milk.
he’s staring lovingly at you as you wait in line at the register, watching with interest as your eyes light up, “cariño can you get the eggs? i completely forgot,” he nods immediately, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek before turning on his heel and heading towards the eggs.
satoru lets the thought of marriage ruminate in his mind, recalling the times you’d talked about marriage, agreeing that you’d want to marry him. what if you’d changed your mind since then?
later that week as satoru is passing you the salt, he asks you the question that’s been eating at his mind. “do you still wanna get married?”
you chalk it up to his usual insecurities, turning around and kissing the tip of his nose and both his dimples. “‘course i do, angel boy” you reply, not missing a beat, “why? everything okay?”
satoru nods, eyes fluttering shut when your lips are pressing against his. “everything’s perfect,” he mumbles against you, smiling and chasing your lips for one more kiss before he passes you the butter.
one month later satoru is under the shade the cherry blossom trees give him, with you staring down at him, mouth still agape from seeing him get down on one knee.
“mi corazon, I’ve loved you more than i thought possible, you’ve breathed life into me when i thought there was no reason to keep living, you bring out the best in me everyday,” he begins, hands shaking slightly as you stare back at him, tears welling in your eyes.
“i want to be by your side for the rest of my life, i want to find you in every crowd, save you a seat next to mine and end my days with you in my arms,” satoru tried to ignore the thumping of his heart in his ears, “i want to be the only one lucky enough to be loved by you, will you marry me?”
you’re nodding quickly, mouth still covered before you’re throwing your arms around the snowy haired man- your now fiancé. “of course, yes!” you laugh, sniffling and wiping the tears that had fallen as you squeeze him tightly. “i love you cariño, i love you so so much” you grin, pressing your lips harshly against his, not caring when your teeth bump against his as you both smile, the spring wind causing pink petals to fall around the two of you.
there was a time in gojo’s life when he thought his life was over. he looks back and smiles, how was he supposed to know the best part of his life was only starting?
the void he once felt in his chest was now overflowing with the love and patience you poured into him; sickeningly sweet pet names and tender touches to ease his mind.
satoru can’t help but smile when he wakes up next to you everyday, grateful beyond belief he decided to be vulnerable that day in the courtyard.
“already staring at me lovingly?” you teased, making satoru grin, dimples on his cheeks as he hummed.
“something like that.”
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gothsuguru · 7 months
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black is the color of my true love’s hair
♡ your devotion to suguru is second to none — you would do anything for your beloved! bonded by true love, loyalty, & utter admiration, these are a few moments where suguru has been unbelievably thankful for you & smitten by your acts of love & service! (a story from my suguru geto: valentine’s day fic list!)
contents: f!reader, no curses au, reader is short/blushes/has hair that can be ran through with fingers! slightly suggestive, cursing, mentions of depression/anxiety/self-destructive behaviors. but i promise this is a soft, fluffy fic! it’ll make sense when you read it! dividers are from @saradika! w.c: ~ 11.5k
a/n: (happy) belated birthday fic for my beloved husband! <3 the title of the fic is a lyric from “black is the colour” by celtic woman, it’s a very loving & devotional song so i wanted to do a story based on those themes! p.s. this is my first time ever writing an actual fic & it got a bit long because i got carried away, but i hope you enjoy! happy valentine’s day! <3 MWAH!
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it’s a simple action, really.
you tilt your head slightly to the right and lift your face up to gaze adoringly at him through your lashes, a mirthful twinkle dancing in your eyes. a soft smirk coupled with a light blush adorns your angelic features, a precious look, which suguru has come to be utterly enchanted by due to the loving action that follows immediately after.
you catch him off guard the first time you do it.
the first time you kiss suguru’s knuckles, he falters.
it’s the way that you do it. naturally & effortlessly, as if it’s like second nature, that causes suguru to stop in his tracks and dedicate all of his attention to you.
his mesmerizing gaze is directed at you, molten gold eyes inquisitive. irrevocably fond.
he attentively watches as you softly grab his large warm hand in your small cold one. his hands are slightly rough yet supple due to his religious use of the honey-almond handcream you bought him earlier in the week.
he notices, rather than intertwining your fingers with his own and holding them, you smoothly bring his hand up to your face, wrapping your digits loosely around the perimeter of his long slender fingers.
your thumb gingerly caresses his ring finger (the one that holds a devout vow of eternal love), your featherlight touch raising wonderful shivers across his body. with the utmost care, you delicately — as if he’s made out of precious china, brush your supple glossed lips against his fingers, relishing in the coolness of his promise ring that encases both his aquamarine birthstone & your own.
your low-lidded enamored eyes never leave his affectionately curious ones — both of you preciously holding the other ones gaze, eyes locked in a staring contest of love.
utterly content with his undivided attention, you gently press a soft kiss to his knuckles.
a sign of affection.
an act, a promise, of complete & utter devotion.
his pierced eyebrow raises slightly due to the suaveness of your actions. he tries to gather his bearings, his brain fuzzy with your actions — did you actually just do that?
suguru’s amber eyes widen significantly, soft black eyelashes fluttering like raven wings against the tan of his cheek that’s blushed with a hue of raspberry red. mouth slightly ajar in surprise, his silver lip ring glints like starlight in the sunset daze of the evening, while his pierced tongue is pressed against his own cheek to stop himself from becoming a bumbling, stuttering mess.
if he speaks — he wholeheartedly believes all that’ll tumble out of his lips will be unabashedly fervent divulgances of: “i love you. i love you. i love you.”
adoration blooms out of his ribcage like a meadow of daffodils, sweetness enveloping around his heart, soft ivory petals and sage green tendrils wrapping themselves delicately over his bones. he reckons that if you couldn’t hear his heartbeat hammering out of his chest before, you definitely can now.
it’s almost as if his brain is in clouds of cotton candy, his mind in a sweet haze of shock, love, & affection when he finds himself whispering airily, “why’d you do that?”
tenderly stroking away silky strands of ink-black hair that wisp around his ethereal face, the fond smile you grace him with is saccharine sweet, “i felt like it.”
unbelievably charmed, he can’t help the giggle that spills its way out through his mouth like honey, a syrupy-sweet sounding little thing. his shaky fingers cover his rosy lips slightly as he laughs bashfully. he’s a bit shy because of it, but you don’t think a sound has ever been so melodious to your ears. you’d get down on one knee to kiss his knuckles reverently as many times as he wants just to hear his laughter over and over and over again.
the way you see it, it’s as if you were put on this earth to devote yourself to him.
like a loyal knight kisses the ring on the hand of their king with the utmost veneration, you’d do the same. without question, worshipping the ground whereupon he stands like a faithful follower would do to a cult leader. you figure in all of the other multiverses, you’re ultimately doing the same thing as what you’re doing in this one: loving him — devoutly. earnestly. passionately.
if the look of ardent rapture on your face is anything to go by, suguru might faint with the rush of pure love & endearment that flows like nectar throughout his veins.
he feels his blush bloom over his warm face which rushes towards the tips of his pierced ears, a clear sign of you flustering him.
wanting to gain back some semblance of control of the situation, he puts on a poker face, a gentleness in his eyes & a fondness in his smile still shining through. his black-nail polished thumb grazes your soft wind-chilled cheek. a beacon of warmth. a caress of admiration accompanied with a well-maintained façade of smoothness. a comforting touch for the both of you.
“well, aren’t you just so sweet.” suguru can’t help the coo that escapes his cherry red lips when you look up at him with your precious doe eyes, “my pretty little baby.”
he softly pinches your cheek, admiring the soft plush. he cradles your cheek with the same hand, & carefully smoothes down your hair that’s been strewn around a bit by the evening wind with the other. suguru pats your head in a nurturing manner in the process, another fond coo escaping him when he sees you preen at the attention he gives you, affectionately watching you revel in the flattering treatment.
your eyes widen with joy, always keening with any praise he showers you with. “i’d like to think so! now come on sugu, your pretty little baby has a lil surprise for you!” you playfully wink at him, your smile beaming like sunshine.
your warm eyes map his stunning features reverently, memorizing his elegant visage. drinking in his otherworldly beauty, as if you could never get enough.
while you openly admire him, suguru does the same to you. he doesn’t think that he’s ever been this enamored by a human being before. you’re the center of his universe, and he can’t imagine his life without you. all he can see in this moment is: you. his intense gaze holds yours as he captures both of your cheeks in his warm gentle hands, enveloping himself in your space. the perfume he bought you for your birthday invades his senses, clouding his mind in a welcomed haze.
all he can think of at the moment is: you. you. you.
all he can repeat in his mind is: mine. mine. mine.
his eyes gleam with a newfound sense of desire, wanting to show you exactly what you mean to him. what you do to him.
golden eyes turned onyx, dilated with desire, flit to your mouth. his thumb outlines your pretty lips that are begging to be devoured by his own, his right hand moving to cradle the back of your head, tilting your face up so he can comfortably take control. long, slender fingers splay across your hair, bringing you closer to him, slightly tugging the strands to hear and feel you gasp against his mouth. he presses his left hand against the small of your back, coaxing you further into his body, fusing you both together. not wanting to be even a millimeter apart. he just can’t get enough of you.
it’s like a magnetic gravitational pull when he presses a soft, sensual kiss against your glossy lips. the cold metal ball in his pierced tongue explores the wet cavern of your mouth, and he can’t help but moan softly into you, relishing in your warmth.
he prays to the stars above, hoping that he can convey his sincere love, desire, & admiration for you like this. he breathes life into you and you do the same to him. kissing you with such vigor & passion, he feels like melding your lips & souls together wouldn’t be enough.
suguru burns with a hunger to become one with you.
he pleads to the universe that the intensity of his desire and yearning is relayed to you — that you crave it, crave him as much as he craves you.
with the way he’s ravenously kissing you, and how you’re excitedly kissing him back, it seems like you certainly received the message.
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suguru thinks it’s a little bit funny, but very much endearing, when you run around the living room like a bumbling fawn.
you zig-zag around the counter, making sure you pick up the purse that suguru got for you on your previous anniversary, an acrylic charm of your favorite actor clinking against the metal fastenings. (another gift that suguru got you, begrudgingly he might admit, because who the hell is that toji fushiguro guy anyways…)
you double check that all the contents you need are inside: phone, charger, lip gloss, mini perfume, credit cards — AH! you run back to your room like a panther, not wanting to forget the most important thing you need for tonight!
he can’t help himself but laugh at your frazzled antics. “babe, you can calm down! we’re going on a picnic, it’s almost impossible for us to be late!” suguru admires your punctuality, he thinks it’s sweet how you never want to keep him waiting.
“FORGOT SOMETHING, I ALMOST DIED.” you rush back to him, a big goofy smile on your face.
“baby… you’re heaving.” suguru covers his mouth, trying not to giggle out loud at how out of breath you are just by running a few feet. you’re so fucking cute.
“damn…” you huff out, hands on your knees, trying to get a deep breath in. “don’t call me out like that.”
he can’t help the laugh that bellows out of him, “sorry angel, now let’s go!” he places his large hands against your back, ushering you out the door quickly, “you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”
walking you towards his black mercedes, he opens the passenger side for you. with both hands on your hips, you remind him that, “it’s a SURPISE!”
after around 45 minutes of both of you jamming out to your playlist in the car, poking his cheek while childishly asking “are we there yet?” just to annoy him for fun, and ultimately being a proper passenger princess who tells him to “just trust me!” when he asks where you two are going, you both arrive to your destination.
and the sight that he sees, enthralls him. he whistles, beguiled by the view. from here, he can see how pretty and bright the stars are, it almost looks like they’re twinkling a “hello!” at the both of you. suguru thinks to himself, a picnic here at night? he’s unbelievably mesmerized at how your brain works sometimes.
he turns to face you, watching how engrossed you are in your phone, tapping away incessantly. wanting your full attention, his fingers grab your chin gently to force you to look him. he jokingly purrs, “if you took me here to kill me, i’ll have you know… sitting on my face would be much easier. much more preferred.”
you raise your eyebrow questioningly.
“because… it’s dark and we’re in random clearing.”
you stare at him blankly. “okay, you’ve hung out with me waaaay too much because i literally said that pick-up line to you last week and now you’re blatantly stealing it… like a THIEF. and also? you drove us here. who the hell is gonna drive me back if you’re dead?”
his brows furrow and he pouts, annoyed that you didn’t fall into his arms and blush because of his (your) raunchy words. he turns away from you and opens his door to leave, brattily huffing out a, “hmph. shut up, dumbass.” with his head held up high in the air, he struts away pompously to the trunk, opening and closing it loudly. a picnic basket with food you both made together in one hand, and a soft quilt of constellations made by haibara & nanami for suguru’s previous birthday in the other.
how fitting.
you loudly snicker to yourself while getting out of the car, amused by your boyfriend’s spoiled antics. while suguru is front of you admiring the view and trying to find a spot to set up, you admire the view in front of you. whistling out a, “damn…” suguru scoffs at your flirty behavior and gives you the finger. you send an air kiss back, and he playfully swats it away.
when he turns away again, you smile to yourself dreamily. taking out your phone, you click a quick candid of him against the night sky, admiring at how he almost resembles a painting.
the cream of his sweater and the contrast of his cascading ink-black hair entrances you, the silver hairpin you got him during a couple’s trip to kyoto in the top of his bun. the dangling deep violet amethyst gem glints in the moonlight, making him look even prettier. he turns his head to the left, eyebrow piercing and his lip piercing no longer in your peripheral, rather you see his eyebrow slit — a scar which you’ve softly traced over many times. his side profile allures you effortlessly, the angular bridge of his nose and the soft cupid’s bow of his lip offering up a beautiful contrast that is suguru: graceful yet strong.
shaking your head slightly, you break out of your trance.
you go back to the task at hand, opening your notes app and ticking off the word at the top of your list.
stargazing. ✔️
you remember suguru mentioned it in passing one day when you were both in the blossoming stage of your relationship. it was on his date bucket-list ever since he could remember, and of course you wanted to be the one who would take him!
you guide him over to a little meadow overlooking the city. surrounding you both are beautiful moonflowers, their sweetness enveloping your sinuses. the air is cool and crisp, and in the distance you hear the faint chirps & buzzing of hummingbirds along with the faint caws of ravens. you’re proud of yourself that you were able to find a place this picturesque. (even to this day, you still have an urge to impress suguru in any way that you can.)
both of you sit on the quilt suguru sets down, the homemade cloth providing an extra layer of cushioning that you feel atop the softness of the grass.
you’re upon the hill clearing, close enough to the city that you can comfortably drive back while still seeing a few citylights from where you are, but far away enough that the light pollution wouldn’t interfere with the date you had planned.
“it’s pretty.” suguru glances at the view, praising you while taking out the tonkatsu sandwiches, pasta salad, & chocolate covered strawberries from your picnic wicker-basket. you pick up a bag of chips and start munching on it while he lays down on his back propped up on his elbows, opening up a banana milk to sip on.
“i’m glad you like it,” your words are muffled in between loud crunches and fast chewing, “i was worried we’d be attacked by a mountain lion or a swarm of bees or some shit.” you say honestly.
he blinks. “i wasn’t worried about that.” sighing out a deep breath, he whispers, “but i am now.” he takes another sip of his banana milk in case it’s his last.
he sits up and picks up the tonkatsu sandwich, handing you the bigger half. “but seriously, how’d you find this place?”
you take the smaller half from his grasp instead, switching with him. taking a bite, you hum happily. suguru is such a good cook. he smiles at you fondly and you answer him, “i was searching up good places to look at the stars. out of all the pictures and reviews, this was the prettiest one.”
you look up at him and swear that you see an actual twinkle in his eyes.
“stargazing?” he pushes his bangs back behind his ear, leaning into your face. loudly repeating, “STARGAZING???” nose pressed against yours, an excitedly manic look in his eyes.
he throws his head back and waves his arms in the air, lamenting, “i should’ve brought my fucking telescope!”
he directs his gaze back towards you, pointing his finger at you accusingly while demanding, “we are coming here again in the future, okay? i’ll bring all of my astronomy gear: a telescope, binoculars, a constellation book, and oooooh! maybe i’ll also bring…” you unintentionally tune him out, looking at him adoringly with stars in your eyes.
this is what you wanted to see.
if you’re being honest with yourself, the best thing to experience in your life is getting to see suguru act genuinely excited. his eagerness to discover new things is infectious, and the man before you is the real suguru: dorky, eclectic, passionate.
the graceful, poised, & elegant man you see when he meets new people and the air of sultriness & suaveness he has when he takes you on fancy dates are utterly enchanting & beguiling, but you think that suguru you see before you now — the excitable nerd, is the most beautiful.
he flicks your forehead, breaking you out of your reverie. “have you been listening to a word i’ve been saying?” he scolds you while pinching your cheek extra hard.
“yeah, you want a telescope so you can look at the stars. also, you look really pretty… the stars ain’t got nothin’ on you.” you rest your chin in your hand, smirking at him, reveling in the blush that paints his cheeks. it was just the cold wind!, he’d tell you later while playfully smacking you upside the head.
you continue, “plus, it’s really hot when you’re all stern and tellin’ me off. what’s my incentive to listen to every word you say if i can get you scoldin’ me instead?” you tilt your head against your hand, grin wide, teeth bared. the masochist in you wants him to scold you even further.
he crosses his arms at you, muscles bulging out of his cream cableknit sweater. your eyes drink up the adonis right in front of you, mentally undressing him. “instead of hitting on me, how about i explain all of the constellations to you in extreme detail?” he purrs to you while biting his lip. he flips his hair over his shoulder, sultrily looking at you. you see right through him of course, knowing that he’s appeasing to your attraction to him just so he can ramble about ursa major, ursa minor, & the big dipper.
frankly. it works.
he holds his hand out to you. a truce.
you shrug. “if you do it like a hot stern professor, then sure.” you both shake on it.
he rolls his eyes playfully, trying to stop the smile that threatens to creep up on his face. “ugh. fine. be quiet and come over here.” he picks you up underneath your thighs and puts you in between his legs. your back pressed against his warm, sturdy chest. he kisses you on the head, appreciative of your indulgence of him.
you giggle cutely and move yourself down, laying your head in his lap while he softly plays with your hair. his lovesick gaze, fond smile, & warm thighs envelope your body, filling your senses with suguru. he leans down and presses a soft kiss against your forehead, an addicting contrast of his cold lip ring & warm soft lips electrifying your skin.
he pops a single chocolate-covered strawberry in your mouth, and you playfully nip his finger. he traces your lips softly and starts playfully lecturing you about the constellations that grace the night sky.
he excitedly points at a cluster of three bright stars, “and that is orion’s belt!”
you point at a bright star in the night sky a few lightyears away from it, grin unbelievably wide.
“i think you might be missing one, babe. and you call yourself the modern-day galileo. heh.” you playfully tease him.
suguru rolls his eyes, “okay first of all, i have never called myself that. second of all — excuse me?” his scoff is slightly haughty, & he can’t help the indignant laugh that escapes out of him. “alright, since you know so much — enlighten me then, what’s that one called?”
“hmm… i believe it’s sugurugeto-020390.”
suguru’s eyes widen ridiculously like flying saucers.
“what?”
you push yourself out of his grasp to hurriedly pull out a certificate from your purse and hand it to him. you sit next to him cross-legged, gauging his reaction.
“trust me, i wish i could get a better name for it, but it turns out there’s a lot of suguru geto’s in the world.”
pausing for a moment, you want to make sure that your boyfriend knows that he’s the only suguru geto on your mind.
giving him bedroom eyes, you purr, “none like you of course.”
he blinks. “what?”
your face falls comically, and you pout, “that bright star in the sky is yours.” you point at it haphazardly. “you’re the light of my life, you illuminate my life, you’re the sole star and center of my universe, blah blah blah… so i figured… ya know…!” you gesticulate wildly, and in the moonlight suguru can see the slight blush on your cheeks. your eyes looking everywhere else but his own.
you’re shy.
he can feel the sinus pressure building up against his nose and the tears glaze over his eyes.
you scratch the back of your head, trying to save face. you quickly backtrack, “i know it’s a bit cheesy and honestly, technically, this was probably a scam, but i figured it was the thought that counts and–”
“shut up.”
you look up at him in a state of shock, “HAH???”
he grabs your cheeks, his silver rings cool against your face, and smashes his lips against your own, teeth slightly knocking against yours. in his excitement, he pushes you down and straddles you, pinning you down to the grass — his body a comforting weight on top of you. he kisses you breathlessly, moaning loudly in your mouth. you can both taste the fruitiness of the strawberry on each others tongues, your own being pressed softly against his piercing. you pull away softly, needing to take a breath.
and the sight above you is one you don’t think you’ll ever want to forget.
suguru’s seductive low-lidded gaze is locked on you, parts of his bangs wisped across his face from the momentum of pouncing on you. he’s breathing heavily, and you can feel his rapid heartbeat hammering against yours, his nipple piercings slightly poking into your chest. a rosy blush spreads itself on his cheeks like a strawberry jam, and you don’t think any view could compare to the one you’re blessed to see now.
his lips are red and glossy, aching to kiss you again. you nod softly, begging him to continue. he slots his lips back with your own, tracing your bottom lip with his tongue before he bites down sensually, groaning loudly when he hears you whimper. he curls an arm underneath your body while kissing you passionately, bringing you closer to him, enveloping you into his space. all you can think about in this moment is: suguru. suguru. suguru.
pulling away once more, you peer into pools of gold. with every fiber of your being, you truly believe that his eyes carry the most beautiful stars — a milky way of ochre and obsidian.
never casting your fond gaze aside, you intertwine your hand with his, bringing it to your lips, kissing each knuckle fervently.
his alluring gaze follows your devoted actions. butterflies brush their wings together inside his stomach, the flutter erupting throughout his whole entire being. he thinks that in the moonlight, underneath the canopy of stars that…
you are the most brightest.
the most beautiful.
the most meaningful.
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“honey! i’m hoooooooome!”
you feel unbelievably ecstatic that you can finally get to see your dear boyfriend after two weeks of being apart!
you already have the whole day planned out, perhaps you two can get takeout from your favorite local restaurant and watch anime together! you giggle happily to yourself while thinking about how you both can snuggle and have a cozy day in.
you take your shoes, coat, & purse off by yourself, wondering if suguru is out. usually by the time you’re at the door, suguru is already there welcoming you back with a massive kiss and a “missed you baby.” softly whispered in your ear, especially if you go on a long trip…
hmm, that’s a bit odd.
now that you’re looking around…
the apartment is in complete disarray.
it looks like a tornado blew through the whole place.
you shuffle in further… and dirty dishes are piled in the sink, overflowing dangerously. suguru’s clothes, random knick knacks, and pillows are strewn about as if he threw them all in a fit of rage. crumbs litter the carpet and you see what looks to be dirt tracks on the floorboards. the laundry is stacked high and the air is stuffy, it seems like no windows were opened in the time that you were away.
worriedly, you run into your shared bedroom.
suguru is there, thank god safe & sound, but what you see breaks your heart.
he’s laid face down, the left side of his cheek smooshed into the pillow, black tear tracks staining the fabric… he must’ve cried on a day when he went out? the bedroom is filled with dirty clothes on the floor, and you’re pained to smell the stench of cigarettes in the air. it’s light… maybe he only smoked one… but the fact that he felt the need to smoke at all, shattered your soul.
especially considering he quit ages ago when he started dating you.
you walk towards him lightly, not wanting to scare him off. his eyes are open and he looks at you… but he’s not really looking at you.
“you alright there, precious?” you softly whisper.
a perfunctory question. you know he’s not. he knows he’s not. but you know he’s in no state to answer any questions that you have.
“mhm.” he hums quietly. lethargic, not even having the willpower to answer with anything but a light rasp.
you brush back his bangs, and he shudders. his hair is greasy, oil-black hair clumping together in some places, matted in others. his lips are slightly chapped, a bit bloodied no doubt from his habit of biting his lip when he’s anxious. his fingernails are no stranger to the same action, stubbed and jagged down to the nailbed, his black nail polish chipped. bright amber eyes which often have a gentle look in them have turned into a dull ochre, obsidian pupils overtaking his irises.
they’re still gentle because he’s looking at you… but if you’re being honest with yourself, his eyes remind you a bit of a black hole right now.
vacant of light.
you press a soft kiss against his forehead and leave the room momentarily, thinking to yourself if anything can be done about this situation.
you decide to shoot satoru a quick text, seeing if he can help you out a bit with what you want to do.
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you breathe out a sigh of relief, a small smile gracing your face. you can always count on satoru. the man may be silly and eclectic, but at the core of his being, he’s someone who will always take care of and look out for his friends. he’s the type of person to drop anything to help those that he loves and adores.
(sometimes you think that satoru really was an angel put onto earth.) (but then you think that he was probably cast out of heaven for being a little shit.) (regardless, you still fucking love him for it.)
you walk back into the room, and lay your head against your pillow that is next to suguru’s. (it smells like him… he must’ve hugged it while you were away.)
cradling his cheek, you quietly say, “satoru’s also back from his business trip babe, he’ll be coming in about 10 minutes. how about you get a bit of sunshine with him, hmm?” he blinks slowly, nodding softly.
you hold his hand to help him up out from the bed, but he shoos you away, admonishing you slightly, “i can do it myself.”
you nod and leave him to it, mentally preparing yourself for the behemoth cleaning task ahead when he leaves.
suguru pads slowly into the bathroom and puts his hair up in a high ponytail with a hairtie he stole from you, not wanting to deal with it. he washes his face and gets a wet rag to pat down his body and underarms, not having the energy to shower. putting on a random black sweatshirt, he douses himself in your favorite cologne of his. he puts on your strawberry lip balm while popping a piece of mint gum in his mouth and with a tired sigh, he exits the bathroom, dragging his feet to where you are at the door.
he kisses your temple gently. planting a soft kiss against his knuckles, you think your eyes deceive you when you see a semblance of a twinkle in his eyes. “love you baby. i’ll bring you back somethin’.” he rasps out softly.
even in his darkest times, even when his mind is playing tricks on him, he’s still thinking of you. wanting to take care of you. desiring to show his affections towards you in any way that he can.
you simply want to return the favor.
satoru arrives at your doorstep wearing a crisp white button up and black tinted glasses, his snowy white hair shining like starlight thanks to the delicate sunbeams that hit him. he hugs suguru gently, placing a soft kiss against his temples. suguru, dressed in all black just nods his head lightly at him. he’s not really interested in going out but knows that you two will force him regardless, reminding him that getting sunshine and looking at different scenery is important.
as they get into the car and back out of the driveway, suguru waves lightly at you, eyes tired yet gentle. satoru winks at you, proud & thankful that suguru has someone that cares so deeply for his mental, emotional, and physical wellbeing.
waving them both a goodbye, you go back inside and put on your cleaning playlist, ready to get started.
the first thing you do is open up the blinds and windows, wanting to air out the stuffiness that had built up over the past two weeks. considering the fact that suguru got a tinge paler and his undereyes looked sunken, you don’t think he got even a single beam of sunshine or any semblance of fresh air in the time that you were away.
padding over to the kitchen, you begin by doing the dishes. wearing your matching baby blue dishgloves, you get to work. it seems like suguru got anxious by seeing all the dishes piled up and started using some paper plates, which would explain the overflowing trash as well. the dishes are caked with food, but soften a bit by dousing them in water along with spritzing a powerwash grease-lifting spray. you sigh happily, glad that this will make it easier. after washing, drying, and putting away the dishes, you turn your attention to the kitchen surfaces.
you wipe down the counter and dining table in circular motions with a lemon-verbena spray, disposing of any old particles of food and random dust that lay upon the surfaces. already in your cleaning mode, you start to feel a little bit more energized.
opening up the refrigerator, you see that it’s been practically untouched. unfortunately, you gag when you smell rotting veggies and fruits, promptly rushing to your kitchen cabinet to get your trash bag to toss any old food away. you mentally remind yourself to get groceries in the morning, maybe if suguru is feeling a bit better after today you both can go together!
walking into the living room, you get your cleaning towel to beat the dust out of all the furniture. usually you & suguru both start with the bedrooms, but this time you figure you’d start with the living room as it’s in a bit of a better shape than the bedroom.
after you finish beating the living hell out of your cushions, you get to swiffering, mopping, and vacuuming — humming and singing loudly to suguru’s favorite songs on your shared cleaning playlist.
you go into the bedroom and start by gathering all of the clothes on the floor and the ones in the hamper to put inside the washing machine. you look around and do the same with the bedsheets and pillow cases, rubbing the eyeliner out of suguru’s pillowcase with some makeup remover first.
cleaning out all of the drawers, you make sure to throw away any random trash and only keep what’s necessary. clutter bothers both you and suguru, so you do your best to try and minimize that. you pick up empty bottles off the nightstand and throw them away. at least he drank a bit of water.
turning your attention to your bookcase, you wipe down the multitude of pictures of you & suguru that he put in frames.
there’s a few of both of you smiling after going on cute dates — suguru’s grin unbelievably wide while flipping off the camera and holding you close to his chest as you laugh loudly. there’s ones of you gazing at him adoringly, your love for him seeping out of the picture. there’s others of him looking at you — a soft fondness in his eyes, an even softer smile gracing his lips, his affectionate gaze tuning out anyone and anything else that isn’t you. both framed and pinned to the wall are multiple candids you two took of one another when the other wasn’t looking or paying attention, bursts of love immortalized in random moments of time.
you tell yourself that the sniffle you do is just because of the dust.
clearing your throat slightly, you look around proudly. you’re done!
you spray each room with a cotton spray, inhaling the fresh linen scent happily. you light up a teakwood candle that suguru bought a few weeks ago in the living room and put a sandalwood diffuser in the bathroom, freshening up the place. you take a well-deserved shower, feeling properly clean and accomplished.
by the time you’re done, it’s around 5:30 in the evening and satoru texts you that they’re on their way and will be back home in approximately 30 minutes.
you take a can of sprite out of the fridge and onto the counter, while simultaneously placing an order for cold zaru soba noodles from suguru’s favorite local spot. you place another order at your best friend sukuna’s bakery for suguru’s most beloved dessert: matcha crepes. you figure ordering a bouquet of flowers would be a cute, fun little surprise too — anything to put a smile on suguru’s face.
you also do the same for satoru, a little thank-you present for when he comes back to his own apartment. you order a bouquet of narcissus & holly for him, internally hoping that he likes it while also ordering all of his favorite desserts from his favorite bakery! knowing with your entire soul that he will happily fill himself up on raspberry macarons, strawberry cake, vanilla mochi, chocolate donuts, & zunda cream kikufuku to his heart’s desire.
with a pep in your step, you walk back into the bathroom to get the most important part of your night started.
suguru finds his heart a bit lighter when he comes back to your shared home. he didn’t want to admit it to satoru… but he actually had a fun time eating, shopping, and listening to his hilarious stories about his shitty business trip. he’d be lying though if he said that he wasn’t most excited to see you after a long, eventful day.
in his hand are a bunch of shopping bags from stores that satoru dragged him to — clothes from your favorite stores, accessories & bags that you most wear, shoes that you need, books & knick knacks that you like — all for you. he bought a few for himself of course, but he mainly wanted to spoil you. he can’t help the small smile that creeps up on his face when he thinks about how excited you’ll be to see the gifts he got you.
thinking back on it, the guilt and shame he felt in his heart when you first saw him earlier today ate him up. he didn’t even know why he was feeling the way he was feeling so strongly. it was coincidence that it coincided with your trip, and he made sure that he would sound fun and happy over text as to not worry you. it wasn’t until a few days from when you were actually set to arrive that he didn’t even have the energy to talk or text you.
hell, he didn’t even have the energy to keep the apartment tidy or keep himself in check either. another pang of guilt hits him like a freight truck. he concludes that he’ll give you a spa day so he can clean everything up, not wanting you to worry about the mess he made.
he knows from the bottom of his heart that you’d never judge him or make him feel small for feeling the way he felt, he just feels so bad that he couldn’t even muster up the energy to greet you the way you deserved to be greeted. to kiss you. to hug you. to have a delicious dinner together and snuggle with you.
but no. after a long trip you had to come home and be worried for him. have the apartment be in disarray, have to see him be in disarray. fuck, you were worried enough to call up satoru.
he swears to himself that he’s gonna make it up to you. he swears that–
oh?
what?
suguru’s eyes widen, hands weakly dropping his shopping bags on the floor.
the entire apartment, top to bottom, is spotless.
dishes done and put away. dining table clean. living room tidy. is that… a bouquet of daffodils, his birth flower, on the counter? he also sees the bag from his favorite bakery right next to it too…
he walks around, astonished, at how you’ve made the apartment look brand new.
he reaches the bedroom and sees that the bed is made. his clothes have been clean, dried, and put up in hangers inside his closet. the nightstand, dresser, and bookcase all spotless and wiped free of dust.
a fresh smell envelopes his sinuses. he swallows the lump in his throat. did you smell the single cigarette he smoked? it seems like you aired out the whole apartment. in front of him is a beautiful sunset that waves at him from outside. a sunray beam kisses his cheeks. suguru blinks and feels something wet trailing down his face… it tastes salty on his lips. but feels so warm and sweet.
“suguru?” your angelic voice calls to him.
he turns around and sees you. fresh and clean, a beacon of warmth and illumination. a light blush dusting your cheeks no doubt from all of the hard work you’ve done.
“i ran you a bath. you up for it?” you tilt your head cutely at him, a silent plea in your eyes for him to agree.
feeling like his voice will betray him if he speaks, he nods softly. grabbing his hand, you take him to your shared bathroom, also totally spotless. your hands are soft and small in his, warm for once, because of you taking a hot shower and checking the temperature of the water for suguru’s bath. a sandalwood scent envelopes his nose, no doubt from the diffuser you put inside. he sees the romantic candles and rose petals around the bathtub and he can’t help the smile that overtakes his face.
“for me?” he rasps, a teasing tilt to his voice.
“always. everything and anything i do will always be for you.” you say it seriously. genuinely.
to you, it’s a vow. an oath.
his eyes widen slightly, but he closes them momentarily, not wanting any more tears to spill. he crinkles his eyes and smiles at you softly.
“you joining me?” he undresses, taking off his sweatshirt and t-shirt. showcasing his tan skin, toned abs, & muscles. his nipple piercings & belly button piercing are on full display and he giggles lightly as you ogle at his body, watching your eyes trace his numerous tattoos & piercings, absolutely mesmerized.
“maybe next time,” you smirk, a playful twinkle in your eyes. “figured i could do a little pamper session, is that alright with you?” you ask him caringly, wanting to make sure that he’s comfortable with it first & foremost.
he fears that if he speaks any louder than a whisper, the love that overcomes him will drown his airways. he rasps out a small, “yeah.”
always. anything and everything you do will always be right for me.
he gets into the bath and you try to not let your eyes trail down, instead focusing your gaze on his dragon tattoo that encompasses his entire back along with the mythological japanese creatures that trail up his arms and ribcage like tapestry. you see one of your favorites, a black and white beta fish upon his ribs, submerged underneath the water he’s in.
from this angle, you can also see your name that he tattooed behind his ear. smiling to yourself, you sit behind him, ready to begin the pamper session.
his sloshes the rose petals around with his fingers. the water is warm, is his first thought. i wish you were in here with me, is his second.
your fingers stroke his hair softly, lulling him into a false sense of security, and then you get to work, vigorously rubbing in his lavender shampoo. he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. for some reason anytime you two would take baths or take showers together, you would always wash his scalp aggressively. “this is how i wash my hair sugu! what’s a little run through gonna do? we gotta keep clean!” did clean mean damn near ripping out his hair follicles? possibly.
he’d never stop you or scold you however, he thinks it’s hilarious and an endearing trait of yours. when he washes your hair he makes sure to be as soft and careful as possible, almost lulling you to sleep. when you wash his hair however, it’s like you’re turbowashing a pickup truck. he figures this time he’ll give you a pass (he always does) considering that he doesn’t think he’s washed his hair in around a week and a half.
“gonna rinse now, okay?” he hums quietly, closing his eyes.
this almost feels like a purification process to him.
you lather shampoo in his hair once again wanting to do a double cleanse, this time a bit more softly. you massage his scalp, and he tips his head back. you start from the crown of his head, working in circular motions, using your fingertips. then you go to the roots of his hair, pressing and lathering, pressing and lathering, pressing and lathering.
you push his head forward slightly so you can clean the back of his head too, massaging the pressure points in his scalp. you were always a good masseuse, therefore a deep sigh escapes him, tension leaving his body by the second. (this might be the first time in two weeks where he’s been able to breathe comfortably.) you run your fingers throughout the clean strands of his hair, humming a little tune to yourself.
“they called me.” your hands still for second, but resume back to carefully twisting the water out his silky black hair. you stay quiet, knowing that when suguru speaks he prefers to get it all out there first.
“must’ve been like, what, two days after you left?” a humorless laugh escapes him. “they always know when to fuck up my mood. i swear.”
he sighs tiredly. “they went on a whole spiel about how i need to come back home and find a ‘real job’ as a hotshot lawyer or some fancy businessman, as if i don’t run my own tattoo parlor. as if i’m not also a real fucking businessman. like, do they think i don’t make any money? that i can’t comfortably take care of us both?” he rolls his eyes, getting annoyed again just thinking about how long the same repeated conversation had gone on.
suguru’s family is relatively well-off. he’s genuinely thankful that both him & satoru never had to worry about how to put food on the table or be worried about not being able to spoil the people that they loved.
it’s just that his parents were angry that their picture-perfect little boy wanted to spread his wings… see a world that had more to offer than quiet dinner table meals filled with tension and pointed jabs at one another guised as “caring advice.”
their image of suguru started to get distorted when he first showed up on their doorstep with his gauges. an act of rebellion. he could’ve worn small simple diamond studs but he wanted to make an impression: i’m my own person. even as a 13 year old boy, i can make this decision on my own. he remembers the way his father said he looked foolish. how his mother held her hand over her heart, in shock that her little baby boy had tainted himself in such a manner. what would others say?
suguru remembers looking in the mirror after the whole fiasco & thinking: god… they’d say i look so fucking cool.
then it started with sneaking out to go on late night drives with satoru, shoko, nanami, & haibara. they’d jam out to random songs on the radio, get slurpees & snacks, and sit in satoru’s car just talking about life and their future for hours. suguru still remembers the way his bangs wisped across his face, the crisp night air purifying his soul, the stars in the sky illuminating the landscape. the world seemed bigger those days and the gang were enjoying their teenage years. enjoying their youth.
he remembers coming home, his father waiting for him on the couch, pointing to the seat next to him, forcing suguru to sit down. his father’s arms crossed, black turtleneck making his muscles bulge slightly out of his sweater, his specs on the bridge of his nose making him look so serious. suguru found it easy to make eye contact with everyone in the world, but with his father he couldn’t help but look away sometimes… so he redirected his gaze to the tiny delicate beauty mark near his fathers right eye. a small little thing that made his father look a bit more… prettier. nicer. less daunting.
“where were you?” the timbre of his father’s voice rattled his bones. he muttered those three words quietly, but it still shattered suguru’s eardrums regardless.
“out. with my friends.”
he scoffs. “some friends they are.” a deep resounding ring of utter disappointment comes from his father’s words.
suguru sneers at the man, pissed that he would even think to disrespect suguru’s choice of friends like that. “yeah, they’re the best.” not an ounce of sarcasm lacing his words. his own mood dampened, nevertheless.
he recalls stomping all the way upstairs and slamming the door with all his might. sitting on his bed and resting his head against the window pane, eyes looking up at the same stars he saw when hanging out with his friends.
the stars seemed so far away from suguru’s room.
the world looked so big. suguru felt so small.
then one day, months later, suguru kissed a pretty boy. he can’t quite remember his name anymore, just that his lips were soft and his eyes were kind. suguru’s parents found out. his dad was surprisingly fine with it… he just assumed it was a phase, he went through the same thing as his son did when he was his age. his mother however… she just acted like it never happened the next morning. as if it wasn’t just a part of who he is.
his parents thought he was rebelling for the sake of rebellion. in actuality, it was suguru’s true self coming out. he was just getting more comfortable in his own skin. he was tired of being the picture perfect beauty who always was demanded of being polite, poised, & graceful. it was always too easy for him to put on a fake smile and manipulate others into doing what he wanted for the sake of his family’s reputation, it’s what he was taught. being at that house, it felt like he was kept on a tight leash, restricted from living his life. he felt caged like a bird…
but he just wanted to be free.
all he wanted was to just truly be himself in this world.
a kiss against his scalp breaks him out of his reverie.
right… he was here with you. he doesn’t have to spiral or worry anymore. you’re here. with him.
you’re here, you’re here, you’re here.
he shudders softly, taking your hand, holding it tight within his grasp. anger laces his next words, “they also said it’s time i get into a ‘real relationship’. whatever the fuck that means.”
you giggle. you know that his parents aren’t too fond of you, you’re not exactly of the same… class or status as them. at least that’s what suguru’s mother told him.
he huffs out a single dry laugh, “i’m glad you’re laughing about it because i nearly popped a fucking blood vessel screaming into my phone when they said that shit.”
“my protector.” you coo to him.
a light blush tinges his cheeks. always.
he presses a kiss against your palm. “i think it just made me… spiral a bit, y’know? reminded me of when i was kid and they made every little decision for me. i mean i’m a fucking adult now — i can decide what i do, who i wanna be, and who i want to be with.”
so when he got that phone-call from them on that day he was supposed to go to some rock concert… he did the one thing he promised himself he’d never do again. he lit a cigarette, and cried his eyes out into his pillow.
while sobbing, he remembered when he was in his early twenties and he’d sleep around with anyone and everyone, smoke blunts & cigarettes, go bar-hopping… do everything the picture-perfect pretty boy would never be allowed to do under his parents roof. his family just made him so miserable that he would do anything to not think of them.
he heard your voice in his head, reminding him, that instead of continuing on that self-destructive streak, he got his shit together. art & drawing was always his safe haven, so he found himself an apprenticeship at a tattoo parlor, getting a job as a piercer and ultimately working his way up to being a tattooist. he owns his own place now — all his hard work & effort paid off.
his mind travels back to you. his one true love.
ever since the moment he met you, he was mesmerized by your beauty — your smile made suguru feel butterflies flutter around in his stomach, he remembers the day you walked into the parlor and how everything in that moment stopped… as if you two were the only ones in the room, as if he could already imagine a future life with you. your personality shining through like a beacon of light, and as he got to know you further, your loving words & caring actions only made him fall deeper in love.
suguru’s heart and sobs only calmed down when he thought of you. his beloved. his angel. his reason to be. he hugged your pillow a bit tighter that night, imagining it was you.
“i’m proud of you, you know.” you say it so genuinely that it tugs on his heartstrings, making his heart skip a beat.
“you’ve been through a lot of shit with your parents, but at the end of the day, you chose to follow what your heart desired — not whatever they wanted. you’re successful in what you do and you made the right decision. it doesn’t matter what the hell they say, because they don’t know the effort and time it took you to get where you are.” you say it so passionately, that suguru believes every word that comes out of your mouth. his heart racing, thankful that somebody fucking understands him.
“you’re kind. you’re caring. you’re so unbelievably loving. you’re always looking out for others and helping anyone that needs it… you’re a good fucking person, suguru. i hope you know that and realize that. it doesn’t matter what anyone else says, you are good. what you do is good. who you are is good. it’s an honor to be able to love you and be with you. i hope you know that.”
for the first time in a while, suguru turns around and really looks at you. the way you bare your soul to him so effortlessly, the way you smile so sweetly at him, the way you make him feel like he’s your one true love.
“i’m so thankful for you. i love you… and i want to be with you, too. always.” his voice breaks a little, overcome with emotion.
suguru hugs you tightly, neither of you caring about the wetness on your clothes. suguru puts his entire spectrum of feelings towards you into the hug — an apology, a thank you, and a proclamation of love.
voice a bit shaky, he laughs, “sorry for getting you all wet. i know how much you hate drenched clothes.”
“you apologizing for getting me wet? now that’s a first.” you purr playfully, glad to see him in better spirits.
a loud laugh bellows out from suguru, deep within his gut. he kisses your lips preciously, and sits back down in the water, urging you to continue.
the mood now is far lighter. the air thick with a sweet steam.
you rinse his hair and gently put his lavender conditioner through his hair. massaging it in, running your fingers through his silky smooth strands. you put his hair up in a clip for a few minutes to let the product soak in. he washes it out himself while you start the shower, making sure you put in his favorite honey-almond bodywash. he gives you a silly yet oddly sultry show when he lathers himself and he promptly comes out, steaming and refreshed. you help him do his skincare routine, softly rubbing each and every product into his skin. he towels off and sits down, hairbrush in his hand, looking at you.
“here, let’s do this first.” you blow dry his hair, taking your time and allowing suguru to lull his head back onto your front, the soft black tresses of your beloved’s hair feeling much more revitalized in your fingers. you then brush his hair, gently, carefully. the entire time, you notice that suguru’s eyes are closed and he’s smiling to himself. you kiss him on the top of his head, and he turns to kiss you back. eyes closed, his lips puckered…
but just then, the doorbell rings.
“OOH! perfect timing!” you scurry off. you leave a pouting suguru who huffs out a little “hmph.” annoyed that whoever was at the door took a very well-deserved kiss away from him.
he patters softly to the kitchen where you’re setting out cold zaru soba noodles for him along with a can of sprite and matcha crepes. all of his favorites.
you hold a bouquet of flowers. daffodils.
“for you.” you curtsy, a mirthful twinkle in your eyes. he graciously accepts them from you, a shy smile and light flush across his cheeks.
“thank you.”
kissing his knuckles you whisper, “anything for you.”
for once in his whole entire life, suguru doesn’t think he can bear to look you in the eye. your adoration is so unbelievably intense, it feels like it’ll burn a hole inside his heart. does he deserve so much goodness in his life?
“you deserve more than what i can give you. i’ll spend my whole life making sure you realize that, suguru.” you say to him honestly. “if you’ll allow me of course.”
he kisses you on the lips softly, hoping that you can feel how thankful and lucky he is that he has you. “likewise.”
he clears his throat. “okay, c’mon. i’m starving. i wanna watch that stupid show and shit talk that hot guy you like on screen while we snuggle.”
“he’s the best character, suguru!” you huff indignantly. clearly he can’t be talking about thee toji fushiguro???
“babe. he SUCKS.”
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he knows you so well, he muses to himself.
he knows how your breath hitches after he nuzzles his lips against the curve of your neck, that the skin is sensitive there, but not as sensitive as your right ear. he knows that because of the way your knees buckle as he whispers soft romances to you, intense shivers overtaking your body. he makes sure that his arm is always wrapped tender yet firmly around your waist when that happens, trapping you against his unyielding body.
he knows what makes you tick. on the rare occasion that you allow your emotions to overcome you, he knows how to comfort you. he leaves you alone for a few moments so you’re able to gather your thoughts & assess your bearings, and then he invites you into his warm embrace. he lets you lay your head in his lap as he strokes your hair gingerly, easing your soul with both honest and kind words. adorning your face with soft kisses and even softer caresses. a cocoon of protection.
it seems like these days, however, he hasn’t had a proper grasp on you. you can’t hide a single thing from him, he knows that you would never willingly do so either.
it’s not like you want to anyways — not that you intend to, at least.
but it’s an aching feeling in his chest, nonetheless.
earlier in the week, you’d softly shut your bedroom door whenever you saw him, pretending as if you couldn’t see each other… as if he wasn’t there. it’s moments where he found you haphazardly digging for shit in your drawers, tucking whatever it was into your pockets and padding away softly to your room. you’d stay in there for hours, only coming out when he knocked on your door to tell you dinner was ready. he heard lots of rustling and you pretended as if you were just chilling in there, as if nothing was going on. sometimes when he knocked on your door to see what you were up to, all he heard back was an “i’m busy, baby! i’ll be out soon!” then it became even more odd, you’d quickly shut off your phone whenever he came into the room and would plaster a bright smile at him as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
he sighs to himself. he trusts you. he loves you. he knows you’re not doing anything heinous.
but… why won’t you tell him what’s bothering you? don’t you trust him to fix whatever is wrong? it eats away at his mind & soul that you think you have to hide whatever it is that’s taking you from him. don’t you know that he’d drop anything for you? that’s what being in love is for, right?
his eyes peer at you from the couch, studying you. he calls out to you softly, “angel. can we talk, please?”
a statement posed as a question. he knows this. you know this. you answer regardless.
“sure.”
you walk towards him, intentionally adding a lackadaisical swagger to your steps. to fool him. you know it won’t, he knows it won’t. but suguru isn’t anything if a man who doesn’t indulge his beloved.
he pats the seat next to him on the couch. inviting. as if he’s giving you a choice, even though you know you have none at the moment. “sit next to me, my love.” his smile is taut like a string, amber eyes shut closed so you don’t bear witness to the tears that threaten to spill.
he knows you’re hiding something.
he doesn’t like not being in the know.
is it something he did?
is it something you did but are too afraid to tell him?
since when were you afraid of him?
were you always–?
in the few seconds it takes you to sit down, a myriad of questions race through suguru’s head, creating a spiral of untamable negative thoughts. you would talk to him if something was wrong, right? you both have a healthy communication and always talk things over with each other… so what’s different now? do you not trust him?
suguru chastises himself, thoroughly.
of course you wouldn’t want to speak to someone like him.
always the overthinker. always the nagging negative nancy. always the manic-depressive.
sometimes suguru fears that he acts more like a father to you rather than a boyfriend.
that he’s a bit suffocating. too intense. very overbearing.
a warm hand engulfs both of your small, cold ones. he hopes that it comes off as sweet, as caring. because he himself is sweet and caring.
at least he hopes he comes off like that.
“is everything alright, sweetheart?” a soft whisper. he speaks placatingly to you like you’re a newborn fawn and any loud noises or large movements will make you jolt and run away. “i feel like… you’ve been avoiding me recently. and…” he takes a deep breath. “listen, i don’t know if it’s something i did, but you need to tell me, okay? you have to tell me so i can make it better.”
he thinks he sounds nurturing. kind. paternal.
he also thinks he sounds so fucking condescending.
he closes his eyes and a picture of a man darts across his eyelids like an overdeveloped photo.
strict, heavy-handed, cutthroat.
paternal and protective to a fault. a man who was always “right” even when he was wrong.
an “apathetic” man who bore a child who thought too much – felt too much.
a flash of a sophisticatedly handsome man with obsidian shoulder length hair, serious low-lidded eyes, and a firm closed mouth sears itself across suguru’s brain like a charred photograph.
he flings away the afterimage as quickly as it came. pretending as if he never even thought of it.
he gulps, swallowing the fireball in his throat. god, he really doesn’t want to be like… him. having a majority of his features is enough, he does not want to inherit that man’s personality.
suguru absentmindedly rubs the slit in his eyebrow, his grip unintentionally tightening on your hands. he releases moments after, not wanting to cause you any pain.
“everything is fine with me sugu, i promise you.” you reassure him. “it wasn’t my intention to avoid you or make you feel like you did anything wrong… i am so sorry if it came off like that.” you answer him honestly. your head is tilted to the side like a little puppy, brows furrowed, upset that you made him feel like you were trying to get away from him.
“no, no no no no no, baby it’s not your fault.” he quickly grabs your cheeks, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. he brings you against his chest, hugging you tightly. “don’t apologize honey, i’m sorry… i just got into my head a bit.” he quickly placates you and kisses the top of your head. you shouldn’t be the one to suffer because he started to anxiously overthink and spiral.
he looks at the time on his watch. it’s a few minutes past midnight. you both should go to sleep… maybe you can talk it over in bed or in the morning with clear heads.
you exhale softly, shaking your head faintly. you press a delicate kiss against the corner of his lips. telling him, “give me a sec.”, you walk over and into your room.
he nods and watches you saunter away, putting his head into his hands. god… him and his big mouth… he sighs, anxiety crawling up his throat once more. he really didn’t want to upset you or anything, he angrily tells himself to apologize to you when you get back.
hearing you shuffle closer to him, he lifts his head.
in your hands is a… huge book?
“i wanted to give you this tomorrow… well technically today, but i guess it doesn’t really matter.”
he tilts his head, confused. you present him with the thing you’ve been working so hard on.
you smile at him so softly, he thinks that his heart is about to burst. “happy birthday, suguru.”
birthday…? oh god, it is his birthday.
he gently takes the present from you… it’s a scrapbook.
“don’t look at it in front of me! okay, bye!” you quickly sprint into your room, not wanting to be in the room when suguru looks at such a personalized present.
blinking, he grabs his reading glasses from the coffee table, and opens the book, flipping through each page carefully.
photobooth pictures, polaroids, kodak film pictures, movie tickets from your dates, admission tickets from amusement parks he’s taken you to, and multiple candids of both him and you - many of which he hasn’t seen.
one of them looks awfully familiar… did you take this the day you took him stargazing in the meadow? his fingers brush against his trembling lips, trying to stop himself from sobbing.
is this what you were doing?
he feels so stupid.
but god… does he feel so fucking loved.
you’ve immortalized every single moment of your relationship with him. nothing being too small for you to be excited about, carefully keeping everything.
he sees the little pressed flower of a daffodil enclosed in wax paper on one of the pages, probably from the first time you gave him a bouquet. the first time anyone has presented him with flowers without wanting anything in return. when asked about the occasion, you simply shrugged and said “just felt like it” & then quickly kissed his knuckles, zooming out of his apartment to run errands. he remembers how bashful he felt. how thankful he was. how loved that experience made him feel.
he moves his glasses upwards, wiping the tears across his lashline and the ones that stream down his face. he clears his throat slightly, and continues flipping the pages. you’ve drawn little doodles (things that he’s already planning to get tattooed on him simply because they came from you) and you’ve written beautiful, personal messages. encapsulating your adoration for suguru in the margins — genuine words filled with your love, devotion, and admiration for him.
he sniffs loudly and tries to wipe his face the best he can. he tenderly calls out your name, beckoning you over to him, and you get up out of your shared bedroom to pad softly into his open arms.
“my love.” he stands up and walks over to you midway. he hugs you so tightly while pressing your head against his beating heart, his arms protectively enveloping you. the space between you two is nonexistent, and suguru surmises that he wouldn’t have it any other way.
conveying his thankfulness and love to you, he sweetly says, “my sweet, sweet girl.” a soft kiss pressed against your hair, “you know my heart beats for you, right?” from anyone else it’d sound cheesy, but from suguru… you know he means it from the depths of his soul.
he holds your face in his gentle hands, openly divulging his admiration for you, “my little dove.” he coos so fondly, sweet candied sugar dripping from every syllable. “you’re so precious to me, you know that? i love you. i love you. i love you.” a tender kiss pressed against your soft lips between each proclamation of adoration.
you smile graciously, thankful and relieved that he adores your present and that he especially adores you. you knew out of any of your presents that you were going to give him today, that this would be the most meaningful. suguru has always been the ultimate sentimentalist, and you wanted him to know that you care for him so deeply. that you love him. adore him. that your heart beats only for him. pushing back a black tendril of hair behind his ear, you kiss him gently. both of your lips fitting together perfectly — like a lock & key.
you bring his knuckles upon your lips, preciously kissing his promise ring, ensuring to him that your love and devotion runs deep, deeper than anything in this world.
“i love you too. happy birthday, my love.” his hands are so gentle. his face is so sweet. suguru… your one true love.
if someone asked suguru to describe you in three words, he’d say you were: devoted. loyal. loving.
he has four more words of his own on the tip of his tongue that he’ll ask to you when he musters up the courage.
with a soft kiss upon the ring on your knuckles, and an even softer smile upon his lips, he lovingly breathes out, “i will love you too, forever.”
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moonsart · 6 months
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Eternal Dream - Murder Drones animation
Song made by @lumineary-arts
Youtube link
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