#and maybe some brown loafers

[slushycoookie]

Roleplay Date ~ Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Content: You and Miguel do some roleplay, mostly fluff, starts to get suggestive occasionally and near the end, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: Wanted to do a quick idea of you doing a role-play date with Miguel! Enjoy!

He should be here any minute now.

The time on your phone was your favorite thing to look at when you stepped into the bar. You tried to relax with a sip of your margarita, the slightly sour taste of apple dancing across your palate, but your mind kept wandering. How was this going to go? Would it be awkward? Or would it fail if someone tried to steal your man? You had a few other people try to talk to you while you sat but to your relief, disappeared when they saw you weren't that interested.

You had no reason to be nervous. Couples go on role-play dates all the time. You read their ideas and their experiences. It should be fun.

Thirty minutes passed and you saw your husband.

You caught your breath at his change of appearance. A green cardigan, with the top button undone. His white pants contrasted in color but somehow worked well with his black suede loafers. Miguel looked good. You always knew he could be, but this was a little different. You tried not to gawk as you sipped your drink again, pretending the menu was more interesting than anyone else. He wasn't too far from your seat but you caught a whiff of his cologne, earthy with sharp hints of mint. It's one you've never smelled before.

Miguel ordered a rum and coke as you tried to decide what to eat. Maybe some sliders? Or there was a sampling platter you could try. But you also saw sushi on the menu.

“Hi.”

You perked up, heart banging in your chest as you turned to him. He was even better up close. And…did he change his hair? It was parted to the side, not slicked back like his usual style. Miguel usually changes his hair on special occasions. You tried to hold back admiring his brown curls shining in the dim light as you remembered he spoke to you.

“Hi.” A light smile appeared on your face.

“Do you come here often?”

You bit your lip, wondering if you two should have developed a script. But you wanted the interaction to be natural since it's the first time roleplaying like this. “No, I don’t. This is my first time.”

“Alone?” Miguel raised an eyebrow as you nodded, “Someone like you shouldn’t be alone on a night like this.”

Curious, you played with your straw by swirling it in your drink, “What's someone like me?”

“Gorgeous.”

He was eyeing your outfit. A simple black dress that gave much attention to your cleavage. Paired with small matching black heels. You weren't the type to wear this sort of thing but you wanted to try something new. And give your husband something to stare at.

Your poker face was impenetrable, despite wanting to forget everything and immediately go into the hotel room. “You're gonna have to do better than that.”

Miguel smirked before signaling to the bartender that he would pay for anything you wanted for the rest of the night. She gave you a look to make sure you agreed and you nodded. He motioned to the seat beside you and you invited him to stay.

“I’m Miguel.” You gave him yours and he said it as if he’s never said it before. A tingle shot through your spine. “May I ask why you decided to go to the bar tonight?”

“I wanted a drink.” You shrugged, “And I heard this hotel was nice.”

“It is.” He took a sip of his drink, eyes never far from yours.

“Oh? You’ve been here before?”

“Many times. I’ve always been satisfied with the service when I go here on business.”

You hum in delight, “So you’re a businessman?”

“Not quite.” He gives a soft chuckle, “I’m a scientist, that unfortunately has to go on business trips.”

You knew that part about him. He always hated going on trips because that meant he’d be away from you. “What do you specialize in?”

“Genetics.” You had to hold back in smiling hard, seeing his eyes light up at any mention of his work. The conversation was interrupted momentarily when the bartender asked what you wanted to eat. You and Miguel decided to share a sushi platter with an assortment of flavors each of you could try.

And your margarita was also gone, so you decided to get a daiquiri, wanting something a little bit sweeter to combat the sourness you had.

“So you’re a geneticist?” You asked, picking the conversation back up, “That’s fascinating. I’ve never met any geneticists. Especially ones as good-looking as you. Must be in your genes.”

A flash of your husband came out as Miguel’s eyes lowered at your terrible joke. Even you snorted at your words. “Funny. So I’m guessing your profession is a comedian.”

“No way.” You shook your head, “Not by a long shot.”

“Thank god.”

You gasped, pretending to be insulted while watching him hold back a laugh behind his straw. “Rude.”

“I’m just saying. I wouldn’t have high hopes in your career after that joke.”

The air was light and comfortable. Any semblance of nervousness you had previously faded away. That could've just been the alcohol though.

“So since you specialize in genetics, you know all the good stuff. Punnett squares, why people with blue eyes are rare, that sort of thing.”

Miguel nodded, “Usually we're able to find all of your genetic markings through your blood.”

“I'm not scared of getting my blood drawn.” You confidently say, “You think you'd find anything good in my genes?”

He hums in thought, moving closer to slide his hand up your bare forearm, placing his thumb between your arm and bicep. His touch was warm, almost burning your skin up. “Maybe. As long as you hold still.”

“Only if you're gentle.” You let out a low sigh. Your husband staring directly into your eyes, rubbing his thumb against your skin. You're so close to fast-forwarding this date and getting in his pants.

It was to your luck that the food came, causing you and him to part so you could dine in. Husband mode came back as he handed you the wasabi. Your lips curled, knowing he wasn't the biggest fan of it when he accidentally put a huge smear on his roll, eating it whole. You pictured his eyes tearing up and his face scrunching up was hilarious.

“You don't like wasabi?”

Miguel’s head shook with disdain, “Not a fan. It's too hot for my tastes.”

“That's because you put too much on there when you shouldn’t have-” You immediately shut your lips, trying to fix your words. “I mean, plenty of people put a lot on there. It’s a common mistake.”

He ignored your slip up, “Then can you show me how much is adequate for me?”

“Of course.” You took a little piece using your chopsticks, placing it on his sushi roll as if it were delicate. You watched as he ate the piece, shoulders lowered in satisfaction. “See, not that hot right?”

“Not at all.” He then asked about your job which you proceeded to describe as boring. Not as exciting as his geneticist one. While you did so, Miguel kept showing his husband side, making sure you had your fill. As he listened intently. The stranger façade started to fade as you two were starting to act like a married couple again. You’re sure anyone from a mile away could see it.

But you didn’t care. You were full, mind a little clouded from the alcohol and the night was winding down. The time on your phone was almost eleven at night.

Miguel slipped his black card to the bartender, paying for the meal and drinks. You gazed at his form, not believing that you were married to this man.

“Do you have a ride home?” He asked. You knew he made arrangements to book a room at the hotel, but knowing him he’d wanted to make sure the date ended on a satisfying note.

“I’m looking at it.”

His eyes went wide at the flirtatious line for a moment. “Bold, are we?”

“Maybe.” Your playful smirk drew him closer as he leaned into your ear.

“You can ride me in our room.”

You two sped walk towards the elevator. Miguel’s finger repeatedly pressed the down button to make it go faster. Your body was hot, breathing speeding up as you couldn’t hold on much longer. You never knew how slow elevators were when its doors creaked open. The two of you rushed inside and once it was closed, were immediately on each other.

Hot breaths, messy kisses, and hands groping every single part of your bodies filled the space. The cold steel wall was felt on your back as Miguel trapped you, his hard body pressed against your own. He hiked up your leg to wrap around his waist while sucking on your neck. Creating a few marks on your skin.

The dings from the elevator going up were the only thing keeping you together. Otherwise, you were sure he was going to fuck you inside.

“Wait.” Miguel parted, his face stained from your lipstick, hair messy from the exchange. “Do you have your ring?”

You nodded, getting it from your purse. Before you could put it on, he did it for you, slipping it through your ring finger where it belonged. He grabbed his own from his pocket, before slipping it on.

“That’s better.”

Just in time, the elevator stopped on your floor. Miguel picked you up with ease and dashed to the room to continue where you left off.

[myspacebrat]

˗ˏˋ𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ˎˊ˗

bar-back e.m. x fem reader

blurb request: barback!eddie who let’s you try his newest concoctions on the house🤭 by @bcyhoods

authors note: thank you for participating in my little celebration and sending in your request(s), love. This was such a fun one to write and totally got away from me. Anyway, hope you like! <3

✷ ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+

A fog of smoke greets you as you walk through the double doors of the hideout, some run down dive bar in the middle of bum fuck nowhere, surrounded by cows and cornfields. You can’t help but grimace as each step you take is met with sticky resistance under the soles of your brand new loafers.

You take a seat at the bar, running your fingers over the skirt of your dress while you wait for the bartender to notice you and while you do, you take in every inch of him; in his black leather jacket, long brown waves and rings galore. He’s not like anything you’d ever seen outside of an MTV music video.

You’d spent your whole life around preppy assholes who thought polos and boat shoes were cool. They’d never be caught dead in that bad boy attire or much less in a sketchy place like this. That thought made your heart race with excitement, you set your sights on him and prayed your sweet charm and flirty banter would work in your favor.

“Uh, what can I get ya, sweetheart?” The smoothness of his voice instantly makes you want to clench your thighs, but you decide against it as your eyes meet his.

“Mmm, got anything sweet?” You ask with a flirty smile, you don’t want to lay it on thick too soon, just little by little for now.

“Sure, I can whip somethin’ up for you.” He says proudly, bending down to grab a whisky glass and a bottle of some fruity liquor. “Sorry, we don’t have anythin’ more fancy, we really only get beer and whisky orders here, if you can believe it.” He says sarcastically as he looks around the smoke filled bar, met with older working men and bikers who were, to no surprise holding an aforementioned beer or whisky.

“It’s fine.” You say, waving off his apology with a small swat to the smoky air. “So… aren’t you a little young to be bartending?” You ask curiously, also as an attempt to keep the conversation flowing.

“Ah, well you’d be right. I’m not quite a bartender yet, more of a bartenders assistant if you will. But…” he looks around with dramatic flare, making you giggle. “She’s not around at the moment, so looks like you’re stuck with me, princess.” The pet name sends a thrilling swoop straight to your stomach.

“Maybe I wanna be stuck with you.” The words are out of your mouth before you have a chance to fully process them and you immediately want nothing more than to swallow them back down. Your face heats up with humiliation when he raises an eyebrow that gets lost somewhere underneath his shaggy bangs.

He doesn’t even acknowledge your little slip up, instead he shakes his head as a smirk forms on his pretty lips, all the while pouring some red liquor and pineapple juice concoction into your glass. You both let the awkward silence flow around you, although the bar is anything but silent.

“So, tell me what ya’ think?” He beams, scooting the half filled glass closer towards you. The silver of his rings glint off of the yellow lighting and you can’t help but want to do some very shameful things to those fingers while he’s wearing those rings.

After the third concoction of his amazing fruity cocktails, you begin feeling that familiar burn in your chest. You’re nowhere near drunk just feeling loose, which was never good for the people around you.

“So, why haven’t I ever seen you around?” The metalhead asks as he takes a seat next to you at the bar, the bartender had since come back and told him he was off the hook for the rest of the night.

“Well, I was on my way to Loch Nora to visit family…but, well I got a flat and pulled into the parking lot and thought why the hell not? I could use a drink before I go see my uptight aunt and asshole cousin.” You ramble, before stopping yourself with another sip of your coconut cocktail.

“Uptight and asshole seems to be the theme in this shit town.” Eddie chuckles as he watches you between sips of his cheap beer.

“Uptight and asshole also seems to be the theme in my family.” You quip back with a small smile.

“Well I don’t know about uptight but asshole is definitely the theme in mine.” He smirks as he playfully pushes into you with his leather clad shoulder.

“Yeah, well you haven’t met assholes until you met the Harringtons.” You say back with a playful push of your own.

“Harrington? As in S-Steve Harrington?” He stammers, turning towards you in his bar stool as his eyes bore into yours, awaiting your answer.

“Oh, so you’re acquainted with king asshole?” A smile radiates across your face that makes Eddie noticeably gulp.

“Y-yeah, I guess you could say that. But, yeesh I think you might have me beat, sweetheart.” His laugh is boisterous and loud over whatever metal song is playing through the old speakers.

“Tell ya what, how bout I call you a tow truck and cab…and uh, these drinks are on the house since you were nice enough to be my taste tester.” The look on his face tells you he’s anything but ready to see you go. So of course, in your loose as a goose but extremely coherent state, you say something you never would’ve just an hour ago.

“Well, since you gave me something to taste, it’s only right if I do the same, no?” You throw in a flirty wink in a desperate plea to stick the landing of your intended innuendo.

What you didn’t realize was that he was in the midst of taking a sip of his beer and once those words slipped past your lips he immediately went into a violent coughing attack, his eyes wide as if in complete and utter disbelief while you swat at his back, trying to help him catch his breath.

Once his coughing died down, his eyes met yours again and the apples of cheeks bloomed a pretty pink, embarrassment clearly overtaking him.

“W-were you serious?” He asks, as if he was contemplating your proposal and that had the thrilling swoop vehemently returning to your stomach but now it traveled down towards your core as you clenched around nothing.

“Very.” Is all you say, but your eyebrow lifts in question before you begin to stand from your barstool.

Your hips sway seductively as you make your way to the dingy bathrooms, a smile overtaking your futures when you hear sneakers squeak behind you. You push the door open and are immediately met with graffiti riddled walls; it’s filthy, disgusting and so fucking thrilling!

You hear the door shut and lock behind you, and when you slowly turn you’re met with those warm brown eyes that you’ve been fawning over all night.

You don’t say another word, instead you take a few calculated steps over towards him before pushing him up against the graffitied door and smashing your lips into his, in an intense and desperate kiss. He moans into your mouth when your tongue sloppily glides against his, the kiss is all consuming and has you weak in the knees.

His lips pull away and you chase them with a whimper that has him smirking down at you with a cock sure grin.

“Up on the counter, princess. I want that taste you promised me.”

✷ LIKES, COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE SO APPRECIATED, LIKE YOU’D SERIOUSLY MAKE MY DAY (:

[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (06)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

chapter warnings: brief mentions of crimes (drugs, robbery, abduction), brief mentions of sex and hormones

a/n;; i have risen from the dead, everyone. I know it's been a while since I last updated (4 months 💀) But, please enjoy this chapter and hope that I do not disappear for another few more months until the next update lmao. Also posting this update while I'm on my lunchbreak lmao

You didn’t think that figuring out a place to meetup with Seungcheol would be difficult, but alas, it was. The places Seungcheol had initially suggested were either too far or the price range of their menus could amount to at least a month’s worth of your rent. Maybe it was the years of not seeing him that you had forgotten his parents had their own businesses, which obviously, means money is never an issue for Seungcheol.

After telling him you had to commute to some of the places or either needing to Uber or have Vernon pick you up, Seungcheol found a decently priced cafe near your place with a cosy looking interior design. Having finally settled down on a place to meetup, you now began to stress about an outfit.

You tore through your entire wardrobe before finally panic-calling Aki who agreed to help, on the condition that you tell her everything that will go down at the meetup. You agreed and after hours of outfit try-ons, you settled on a brown oversized sweater, a black pleated skirt, paired together with doc martens loafers.

“Are you sure this looks okay…?” your voice full of uncertainty as you stared at your reflection. Aki, who was on video call on your phone that’s propped up on your dresser, rolls her eyes at your question. “Babes, you’re literally so pretty right now that you could be someone’s gay or bi-awakening. Don’t worry, okay? I'm sure he’s equally nervous of finally seeing you again after what? Almost half a decade?”

“That's a dramatic way to say almost 5 years, but okay.”

“Just be your normal self, ___. Even if he’s changed appearance or physique wise, I'm sure he’s still the same ol’ Seungcheol from more than a decade ago. Well, at least for you, it’s more than a decade.”

“That is true… thanks for helping me out, Aki.”

“Anything for my bestie. Now, go and see your prince charming!”

“Can you and my parents stop calling him my prince charming?” you whined, only for Aki to shoo you through your phone.

“Tell me the deets afterwards! I want all the nitty-gritty - don’t you dare leave anything out!”

Seungcheol got to the cafe an hour earlier than the agreed meeting time. He tried to get some sleep but the adrenaline of being able to see you again kept him up. Sitting at the booth and occasionally glancing at the door, he would try to come up with things to talk about. Of course, he knew he had to explain why he dropped off the face of the earth for years without contacting you. But, he still needed to think of other ways to fix the rift between you both.

“Seungcheol…?”

When he hears his name being called, he lifts up his head and it was as if time had stopped. There you were, shyly standing in front of him as you fiddled with the hem of your skirt. A few seconds after he realised he was staring, Seungcheol snapped back into reality. “Have a seat, __.” Ushering to the seat across him, flashing you that gummy smile that still sent your heart running for miles.

You did as told and after placing both your orders to the waitress who came over, Seungcheol nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “So… I didn’t know you were friends with Vernon…” he began, “Let alone a best friend since, y’know, Aki.”

“Yeah, I didn't really have a choice when he came up to me with that awful tie-dye during orientation. I was so glad when he got rid of it with how much my eyes were hurting.”

“That's Vernon for you,” he chuckles, “When he said he invited a friend, I was expecting maybe a classmate since Mingyu did the same with him.”

As you fidget, Seungcheol takes notice and leans his elbows on the table, reaching out a hand. “Hey, no need to be scared, okay? I know it’s been years and you’re most likely overthinking things right now, but I'm still me.”

“Where did you go…?” you asked in a shaky voice, “You just… ghosted me and later on, I found out you’ve been in Seoul for a while. Why… why didn’t you try to reach out?”

Withdrawing his hand and thrumming his fingers against the surface of the table, Seungcheol was silent for a moment before explaining himself. “That weekend when I headed to Seoul to check out Pledis, they had told my parents I qualified for one of their pre-u programmes. But, the slots in Korea were full, and if I did want to join the programme, I had to join their partnering unis abroad. They had Carat University in Japan and An Ode University in Melbourne.”

You quietly listened to Seungcheol as he continued.

While he wouldn’t mind waiting for an empty slot to be available in Pledis but, his parents had encouraged him to enrol into An Ode as they had an apartment in Melbourne. In the event he didn’t want to stay on his own, they’d be more than willing to pay for his dormitory. “They said the enrolment opportunities for pre-u programmes like these are rare… And, since I was given the opportunity, they encouraged me to take the chance.”

“… And you did…”

“I missed you like crazy, _. But, I couldn't get your calls or texts, not even reply nor call you back because I had to wait two weeks to be able to get a new phone and sim card. When I finally did get them, you had changed your number…”

Your face went red with embarrassment at the memory. A few days after your return from Jeju, your parents had brought you to go shop for a new phone and you’ve decided to change your number in the process. Since Seungcheol had dropped off the face of the earth at the time, you thought it wouldn’t matter anyway if you had changed your number since what were the chances of him calling you?

Turns out you were wrong.

“When I finished the programme, I stayed in Melbourne for a year and a half for their business course before transferring back to Korea to finish it in Pledis.”

“That was… that was at least two and a half years ago. Seungcheol, are you… are you telling me within those two years you never bothered to even look for me?”

“I begged them not to tell you!” he defended, “I wanted it to be a surprise! I wasn’t expecting our first meeting after years to be you witnessing me boxing!”

“I did! I went back to Daegu to look for you, but your parents had told me you went to Pledis! I tried finding you all over the place, but for some reason you were never in my line of sight!”

“Wait, wait,” holding up your hand in disbelief to stop him from talking, “you went to see my parents? They never told me anything!”

“How did you get into it in the first place though?” you asked, the waitress arriving with a tray of drinks and some cakes, “I heard you’ve been underground boxing for a year now.” Taking a sip from his drink, Seungcheol stared out the window, watching random cars and pedestrians pass by.

“I’ve been underground boxing for two years, actually, when I was back in Melbourne.” he answered. “A senior saw me during one of my Taekwondo matches during pre-u and invited me to try boxing. A few months later, he introduced me to this trainer who was looking to coach someone for a boxing match and everything just kinda fell into place.”

As a blanket of silence fell over the table, you muttered out a small “I missed you…”. Seungcheol gives you a smile, reaching out his hands to hold yours as he brings them to his lips, placing a kiss on your knuckles – an action that causes you to blush. “Well, I’m here now. I’ll make it up to you, alright?”

“I expect good food.”

And he replies with a sentence that has the butterflies you thought had died start fluttering again.

“Anything for you, pup.”

“...No…”

“Yes.”

“No… You’re lying…‘

“___, I swear on my life, I am not lying.”

“Ew, Cheol, that’s gross!” You whined, pushing at his shoulder with a disgusted expression, “I don’t need to hear about your sex life – much less a three way you had!”

Seungcheol laughs at your reaction, “Hey, if you think mine’s gross, you sure hear Mingyu’s. Who knew models were so… hormonal.”

“Lalala, I’m not listening!”

After your catch-up lunch at the cafe, you brought Seungcheol to the park near your apartment. The area enroute… was sketchy, to say the least, and that was putting it lightly. If you were to remove the sugarcoating, it looks as though you could get mugged or abducted if you lady luck was having a bad day and decided to take it out on you.

“No offence, pup –”

“Non taken.”

“But, at least three blocks of your housing area looks like they’re being used for drug operations. I know you can fight for yourself – I mean, I taught you how to defend yourself when we grew up together. But, have you ever thought about… y’know, moving to a safer area?” 

You had thought about moving out, but with the current rent prices being equivalent to a monthly mortgage payment, the dingy area is the best you got.

“I mean… It can’t be that bad, right…?”

“___, look at the place… I know you value your independence but, surely there are studios or apartments for rent that are safer and more… well lit, y’know?” Seungcheol notices how you began to pick at your nails, a habit he’s noticed when you both grew up and a sign that you were either anxious, nervous or both.

“Budget restraints?”

“Yeah… This is the best I got, Cheollie… Anywhere close to campus is expensive, and a decent apartment is… well… if I had a mortgage, I could pay that off, y’know…? I have a part-time job – I work as a barista at one of the cafes near campus. It pays decently, kind of higher than the usual amount part-timers get per hour but, let’s say I move out and rent an apartment near campus – I wouldn’t be left with much money after paying for rent and the utility bills…”

“Ever thought of getting roommates?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, Mr Choi, I am not a people’s person. Ask Hansol, it took me a year to actually open up to him, even after he’s been introducing me as his best friend for months.”

“Your parents should have property in Seoul, right? Why don’t you stay there instead?”

“Because I’m an only child, Seungcheol. My parents will pay the bills even if I was willing to fork up my own cash!”

Adding on the fact that you had no transport of your own, the dingy little apartment area really did seem like the best option for you – at least, for Seungcheol he was still… iffy (rightfully so, he wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you).

“Any public transport nearby?”

“There’s a bus stop that’s a 5 minute walk away from my place.”

“Okay…”

What you forgot to mention however, was the lack of reliable or functioning light source of said bus stop to your apartment’s lobby. But, surely, it wasn’t a detail worth mentioning to Seungcheol, you thought to yourself.

“Y’know, I thought your crush on Seungcheol would actually die down within those 5 years of no-contact.” Aki confessed as you typed on your laptop, phone propped up against one of your pen organisers. “I mean, it kind of did? But, instead of you being over over him, it’s more like… it’s more like your feelings weren't as obvious as back then.”

“Was it that obvious though?” you asked, turning your head to look at her as she shrugged her shoulders, “Not gonna lie, you’re pretty good at hiding it. I only noticed it after spending more time with you and noticing the subtle signs. If anyone was observant enough, they’d notice. But, to those that just look over the surface, not really.”

“...Do you think Cheol noticed…?”

“___, I might offend you and almost all the male species out there with this statement but, boys are dumb.” Aki moves her position from her desk to her bed, lying down on her stomach. “You both have been friends since you were kids so he should be picking up the signs. If he doesn’t then he’s either dumb or playing dumb.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before you asked, “Do you think he knows I like him and he’s just playing me?”

“You and I both know Seungcheol isn’t like that,” Aki began, “Your well-being is a priority to him – you’re a priority to him. Maybe he’s never thought about it, y’know? You both grew up together, maybe the lines were blurred to him.”

Aki could still see the uncertainty on your face, which by all means, you had every right to feel that way. After all, Seungcheol had gone no-contact for 5 years and a person can change a lot within those 5 years. Who’s to say he actually is just a bastard who would step on people’s heads just to get what he wants. “Why don’t you start spending more time with him? Like the good ol’ times!” Aki suggested.

“But… what if he is, and he’s just really good at hiding it?” you asked again, the anxiety and nervousness eating you up as you thought about Seungcheol taking advantage of your feelings.

“___, darling, you and I both know Seungcheol always puts his loved ones above him – he makes them a priority. And, he’s always put you first, even up to the point he dropped off the face of the earth!”

“Rekindle the friendship, y’know? Sure, you both had a catch up session today, but you and I both know that isn’t enough. 5 years worth of catching up – and not to mention, I need to kick his ass.”

You let out a small laugh, “You’ll need to fly over to do that, Aki.”

“Hey, don’t tempt me, ___.” Aki playfully warns, narrowing her eyes at you and pointing a finger at the screen, “I have the money to do so, and I will.”

“God, Aki…”

"Hey, Seungcheol isn't the only one that would do anything for you and has the money to do so."

[0212] cheollie: hey, ik it's pretty late rn [0213] cheollie: but, i just wanted to text you this before i forget [0213] cheollie: thanks for agreeing to meet up with me today and hear me out about my whole disappearance and lost all contact [0213] cheollie: and i'm really, really, really glad that you still see me as that boy you grew up with all those years ago [0214] cheollie: and i really had a great time catching up with you today [0214] cheollie: and i'll always be here for you if you ever need me, ok?

Seungcheol stared at the text he's about to send out.

i'm always going to be right by your side no matter what

After silently debating with himself, he deleted the draft and set his phone on his nightstand, laying in his bed as he stared at the ceiling of his dark bedroom - contemplating as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwooo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetener @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnotthelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @minhui8966 @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp

[thelazybard]

idk if you do modern AU, but it could be really cool like a modern au of the clones from Bad Batch + rex and cody in like university. what would they study, what hobbies, what would they wear! idk

or maybe like in the y/n s/o perspective how they would help them study through finals and midterms?

love ur writing 🫶🫶����

I love university AUs sm ughh

Modern!The Bad Batch +Rex +Cody x GN!Reader: The boys as university students

Rex:

Style: Athleisure for sure. Something presentable enough to attend class in but also hit up the gym in after. The same sneakers almost every day, and his gold chain.

Major: Philosophy

Study dates: In his dorm when Cody is out. You both fit into his twin bunk and quiz each other with flash cards.

Cody:

Style: Done up, slacks and a sweater every day for sure. I imagine him in brown loafers and gold jewelry.

Major: Engineering

Study dates: Out at a cafe with free wifi. He prefers outdoor seating so the two of you can have a bit more privacy while also enjoying nature, but he won't subject you to that in the winter. You doublecheck his math for him and quiz him on the different formulas he's got to memorize.

Hunter:

Style: Jeans, boots, and a graphic tee of some sort. A denim or leather jacket in the winter.

Major: Forestry/Environmental Science

Study date: Outdoors at campus, usually under a tree the two of you can lean back on. He brings snacks and a blanket each time, and the two of you study for your respective midterms in a comfortable silence until you fall asleep on his shoulder.

Echo:

Style: Similar to Rex's. Athleisure, but more boyish. Graphic tees of his favorite show and Nike sweatshorts.

Major: Biomedical engineering

Study dates: At your dorm because Fives always has a girl over. He tries to focus on studying but ends up getting distracted by the various doodads around your room, which results in you getting the great idea of holding him down and doing your skincare routine on him. No studying gets done.

Wrecker:

Style: He's the guy that wears shorts whether it's warm or not. A black pullover hoodie is a closet staple. (He let's girls borrow it so be ready to argue about that). Socks and sandals 100%.

Major: Sport's Medicine or Physics.

Study dates: In his dorm. He sits at his desk with you in his lap and you make him create/study quizlets. He takes breaks frequently to snuggle and kiss you.

Tech:

Style: Slacks, polo and blazer. Thinks you need to look your best to do your best. Him and Wrecker fuss over each other's styles constantly.

Major: Double majoring in Aerospace Engineering and Computer Science.

Study dates: In the STEM building in one of the many study spaces. He says what he's learned out loud to you to better adhere it in his noggin. He takes you out to ice cream after to make up for the lack of romance during the actual study part.

Crosshair:

Style: Dark academia on days he has a presentation. Rest of the time? Sweatpants and a black shirt. Something he can jump right back into bed in.

Major: I'm sorry but he's so a business major. Actually I'm not sorry.

"Study" dates: You go to his dorm and make out while a business textbook is open nearby. Studying!!

[savkirschtein]

AOT character & their personal fashion styles

characters : Eren Jaeger, Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirschtein, Connie Springer, Sasha Braus, Marco Bodt

warning: all of these are just purely based off of my personal insight and views of the characters and how i think they’d dress today

🪩🥡🪐🎸🎧

Eren Jaeger: 🎱🌪️🩻⛓️

based off of season 4 Eren

i picture Eren in todays world really rocking with a minimalist street style

he’s all for comfort and breathability in his clothing and his style reflects that

a closet full of loose fitting boxy t-shirts

LOVES the cold months so he can layer his hoodies and leather jackets

while also sporting the slutty tightly fitted black shirt grey sweat pant combo every now and then

maybe even just walking out his apartment with a wife pleaser and baggy jeans on as a fit alone

all paired with sneakers, small silver hoops, and a chain of some sort

Mikasa Ackerman: 🍒💿📷🃏

we all know for a fact that Mikasa can DRESS

she just has an eye for fashion and has a unique style of her own

one that isn’t over the top, in terms of being a spectacle, but just well put together and tailored to HER. a girl you 110% give a second glance

she is a girlie who LOVES wearing any skirt whether it be long, midi, mini or knee length she LOVES them

most of her pieces are pretty free flowing with lots of different silhouettes

absolutely loves a good leather boot, pair of mary janes, or platform loafers

she literally could wear a trash bag and make it look like it’s the next trend

and has a huge collection of baggus

Armin Arlert: 🎧📘🍵☁️

Armin will literally never be free of the soft light academia aesthetic

the cable knit sweaters, soft cardigans, and sweater vests will forever have a hold on him

but what college boy Armin loves more than anything is a good quarter zip or quarter button up

or a nice casual white and blue striped button up

almost all of his clothing is soft and warm materials

definitely withholds the cute boy in the library title

Jean Kirschtein: 🪐👁️‍🗨️⚡️🌉

will live and die on the hill that Jean is a Carthartt guy

his look is a casual-relaxed but clean one

he’s all for clothing that is durable and will last him forever

Jean’s style is honestly super basic but NOT boring

although Jean’s style isn’t one that is made to make it hard to look away from its one that really just compliments him well

loves a good hefty Dickies or Carthartt jacket, basic white t-shirt, or a loose button up over a tank top

while wearing a variety of rings, with small hoops and a chain

his clothes compliment his strongly built and lengthy body well, which is why although they are basic, it isn’t boring

Connie Springer: 🎧💽☄️🩻

Connie is a literal fashionista

he probably is tiktok famous for his fit check videos and adventures at the thrift stores

the street style aesthetic was MADE for Connie

knows how to put pieces that may not look ideal together into a cohesive fit

LOVES JORTS and swears he made them trendy again

and wearing jerseys of teams he has no clue of , but it’s for the fit so who cares

Sasha Braus: 🍰🪩🗽🧸

the DEFINITION of downtown girl or coming of age movie in a city aesthetic

Sasha lives for the nostalgia of 90s pieces and it shows in her clothing

comfort is also a huge factor that plays into Sasha’s outfits

color is another component that makes Sasha’s outfits HER outfits

LOVES a good brown leather jacket

Sasha honestly though has a hard time sticking to just ONE specific style and will wear whatever feels good for her

Marco Bodt: 🍙🪴♠️🍊

Marco is a soft boy at heart but he’s traded in the traditional sweaters vests for hardy collared jackets

he absolutely LOVES PLAID

and loves layering his button ups with his worn out thrifted jackets

has a more warm palette in terms of colors and leans more towards earthy tones

super casual in his shoes though sticking to good tried and true high top converse, sambas, or loafers if he's feeling fancy

[callsign-marlie]

Hey Pretty Girl

The Five Times Jake calls you his favorite pet name + one bonus little baby taste of angst :3

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader genre: FLUFF warnings: unedited, light teasing and innuendos, mention of pregnancy and child birth, no y/n used a/n this is total fluff and it was just what I needed. very short in comparison to my normal things but i almost wanna do all of the young pilots with this prompt and a different quote each time, it was so wholesome ;^;

Please feel free to like, comment and reblog. Much appreciated and much love - marlie x

---

The First

“Hey pretty girl, slide me a bud, will ya?”

Blonde hair and blue eyes, a coy smile. Tanned skin pinched with a glaze sunned pink at the top of his cheeks and a clean pressed khaki uniform. The cap popped off of the glass with a fizz before you slid the bottle to him. “$5.50 for the boy in brown.”

“The boy,” he scoffed. Thick fingers gripped around the neck of the brew to coat his nails in condensation. The amber liquid swirled the enclosure of glass as he placed the rim to his lips. His eyes never left yours. “Not a boy. A man, darlin’. More of a man than any one you’ve had before tonight, I can assure you that.”

“And who said I wanted you, fly boy?” Your elbows were on the bar, leaning over the mahogany top. Even with the challenge of cleavage at your disposal, he never broke away from your gaze.

“Your eyes say enough. See ya soon, gorgeous.” He scribbled his name on the merchant copy of his receipt. A wink, the shine of a grin, and away he turned. 

You grabbed at the soggy slip of paper to find chicken scratch handwriting with ‘Jake’ and a phone number written on the bottom. Jake, huh?

The Second

“Hey pretty girl, that spot’s perfect. Just like me, right?”

He had bought you a bundle of sunflowers on a whim. They were gorgeous and tall, standing bright against the navy of your entry way in the antique crystal vase your mom had given you. Jake had cleaned up nicely in a crisp button down and slacks for your date to the local brewery down on the coast and had bought the bouquet for you on the ride home from a local farm stand. “Now you can think of me every time you leave the house and smile to start your day.”

You rolled your eyes, an endeared grin on your face. “You’re an ass, Seresin.”

“Maybe, but I’m your ass and that makes me the best ass around,” he chimed, jokingly hitting the back of his rump. “And this ass ain’t leavin’ for quite some time doll.”

“Then tell me, baby, what happens if the flowers die? How would I ever remember you then?” You lovingly wrap your arms around the top of his shoulders, careening up on your tiptoes to touch his nose with yours. 

His fingertips brushed a strand of hair that roguishly fell into your eyes. His eyes were the color of sea grass and his gaze was softly focused on your lips.  “Guess we’re just gonna have to go on more dates so I can get you more, right?”

The Third

“Hey pretty girl, may I have this dance?”

The reception was over and your feet were on fire, but you were finally home in your little shared apartment on base. Your hand, now coveted by a new diamond wedding band, sparkled under the high hat lights as Jake helped you up from the couch to the smooth sounds of John Mayer echoing in the background. Your white gown sweeped against the floor as he pulled you to his chest. 

Jake, your perfectly perfect Jake, dropped a soft kiss to your forehead, to the tip of your nose, to your lips. “Mrs. Seresin,” he whispered at each pass of his lips. You let your bare feet stand atop his, still encased in his military issued loafers and let his strong legs take you on a slow rock in your living room. It was the first time today that the two of you had been just alone: where the room wasn’t vibrating with clinking glasses or loud party music. 

Jake swayed with you gently even as the song changed, his hands dropped to your waist to rest on the crest of your bejeweled bum. You raised an eyebrow at your cheeky husband, who simply rolled his eyes and gave a boyish grin. “Just let me enjoy this baby.”

The Fourth

“Hey pretty girl, lemme help you, hold on.”

Jake’s large hands snuck underneath your rounded belly, lifting just enough weight to let your spine relax under the constant pressure of pregnancy. The dishes you were washing were suddenly forgotten and slipped from your fingers. A blissful sigh. “Ohhh, that’s the stuff, don’t stop.”

“Damn, all of my talent in bed and I’ve never heard you sound like THAT before,” he huffed, slowly letting your belly back down. “All I had to do was lift up peanut here and you’re putty, huh?” 

You pouted at the returning strain and snatched his hands back to place. You tilted your head to the side to leave a kiss and a teasing nip on his bicep. His fingers tickled over your skin in amusement.

“Uh-uh, don’t even think about it, Seresin. You stay right there.”

The Fifth

“Hey pretty girl, I’m your daddy.”

Tears were welling up in his eyes while he held the small pink bundle in his arms. She was so sleepy after making her grand entrance, kicking and yelling the entire birth. “Oh my god, I’m your daddy!”

“She looks just like you.” You were laying in your bed, completely spent, but glowing after all of your hard work pushing your new little love into the world. “You’re gonna be a great daddy, Jake.”

“And you’re gonna be a great mommy, honey girl.” He carefully made his way over to the bed and sat on the side to let your little girl close. Her eyes were closed and soft little breaths were leaving her mouth. Jake leaned over to plant a chaste kiss into your hair, your nose, your lips. He lingered longer than normal, touching his forehead to yours. 

“My pretty girls. All mine, all mine, until the day I die. I’ll never want nothing more than this.” 

Bonus: The Sixth

“Hey pretty girl, I’m alright.”

You launched yourself at your husband, tears streaming down your face. He winced under your arms, but did his best to wrap himself around you through all of the wires tubing he was attached to. Safe. His smooth hands rubbed up and down your back as you sobbed into his shoulder, leaving light taps on his back. “Don’t. You. EVER. Do. That. Again.”

“What, eject? It’s either that or die, and I’m too good to die while I’m still so young and handsome. You don’t want me to leave you a widow so soon, do you?” His megawatt smile showed reassurance, but you weren’t so sure it was real. You knew Jake better than he knew himself. His eyes, blackened from his impact, held something behind them that wasn’t there before: a fear. His façade was cracking at your worry.

“You won’t lose me, pretty girl. I’ll be here. I’m not leaving.”

“Promise me?” Your eyes just wouldn’t stop tearing up. “Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” His fingers made an ‘x’ over his heart. “And I really, really don’t wanna die. I have my whole life with you to look forward to.”

[neoplatinum]

hold me tight - bts | kim dahyun

summary: maybe cupid could save us

pairing: dahyun x fem!reader

themes: angst, fluff, tension, use of flashbacks in italics, marriage counseling, reader insecurity, past physical violence (against original male character, not any member of twice), implied sex, some of twice!

wc: 7.2k

polished silverware, two table napkins, two sets of forks, and knives. a draped tablecloth, and the long wooden table stretching down the dining room. on two ends are two lost souls, once connected with bountiful joy and prosperity. now sat farther apart than the two ends of a colossal ship. barely stitched together by unspoken words and exhaustion.

"what time?" you dig into your steak, back and forth sliding it down the tender meat.

"2pm tomorrow. should i call your assistant?" dahyun digs at her roasted potatoes, a little sweet, just the way she likes it.

"no need, i'll be there." you counter, stabbing the slice of steak, digging into it. pushing the green peas a bit to the left, and sipping the wine. a delicacy truly.

"good." she says quietly, "pass me the pepper?" you look up, the bottle is in the middle.

the dmz line, you lean foward, grabbing a hold of the glass bottle, placing it into her hand.

"here."

"thank you."

the rest of the dinner is followed by the sounds of silverware, and only silverware.

--

dr. yoo jeongyeon, phd, lcpc

you stare at the plaque, gold serif lettering, bold face on top of a black rectangle, sitting directly in the middle of the edge of her desk. your loafers gently tapping the carpeted floor, in time with each tick of a second.

she looks confident, shoulders back and sinking into her leather chair. glasses perched on her nose, a montblanc in hand. eyes a little empty, but inviting, a little too inviting.

"thank you both for joining us today, first time?" dr. yoo starts, eyes taking a slow drift from dahyun to you.

dahyun's legs are tucked together, low heels and a brown suit. she leans forward at dr. yoo's question. "yes, first time."

a simple nod, and a scribble along her notepad. you tilt your head to the right.

"each session with me runs fifty minutes, no longer. if needed, it can be cut short." she says, placing some files away, shuffling paper away, and fixing her glasses. you both nod at the terms. "lovely, could i have you both introduce yourselves?" she continues, eyes back on you and dahyun.

you stare at dahyun.

"i'm dahyun, 26, a fashion designer and a wine enthusiast, lovely to meet you." dahyun stands up, offering a handshake. dr. yoo smiles lightly and shakes it.

"and you?"

"i'm dahyun's wife, 26, ceo and founder of future consultants llc, and a tennis enthusiast."

dr. yoo's eyes stare at you, but her pens moves quickly along the page.

dahyun stares at you, before looking back at her folded hands.

"thank you both, now could you both explain why you are here?" her eyes come back up, those glasses hanging so low is making you mad.

dahyun coughs into her hand.

"we need help." a little unsure, but a desperate plea. your foot stops tapping on the carpeted floor.

dr. yoo scribbles along a new line.

"and you?" the doctor stares at you. you sit up, fixing the buttons on your blazer.

"we're...not the same as we used to be." you say, pulling one leg over the other. dr. yoo nods at that, another line filled.

"alright, now, let me give you some insight on me. i'm dr. yoo jeongyeon, did my phd in human psychology, masters in counseling and bachelor's in neurology. and i'm a lcpc: licensed clinical professional counselor. you can say i'm a people enthusiast." she smiles lightly, dahyun laughs under her breath.

your foot goes back to tapping.

"let's get into it." she sets down the notepad. "could you tell me how you both met?"

--

"what's the maturity date for a treasury bond?"

"20 - 30 years, you seriously have to try harder, sam." you laugh, taking another sip of your beer. sam just grins and flips over a new flashcard.

"okay smarty pants, what are floating-rate notes?" sam taps the index card on the bar table. eyes a little playful, he always did like making you work for your reward.

"they're-"

"stop it ryan." behind you is the voice of a woman, her back hitting yours, nearly spilling your beer. you turn around, a man towering over her, hand on her wrist and his firm grip, stopping her. no matter how hard she tries to pull.

you signal sam.

"take your hand off her." you press down on his wrist, holding his arm in place. the woman stares at you and sam, bewildered eyes and still pulling against ryan's hold.

"fuck off." he spits in your face.

"yeah? let's see how your face looks after this pretty boy." you slam into his chest, him tumbling backwards, foot hitting the barstool and a loud thud hitting the floor. you spot the submariner on his wrist shining under the bar light, fuck.

sam's at the ready, hand on a switchblade, you signal him back, not him.

the woman gasps, hand immediately shooting her sore wrists, shit it looks bad. ryan's still on the group, and then he shoots up. hands at the ready to land a punch, weak form though. you sidestep him, letting him fall forward.

"daddy can't pay to fix your crooked nose?" you smirk at him, taunting him to do anything. his eyes ablaze as he tries again. what a foolish boy.

you let him try and land a left hook, before you start punching his jaw, one good liver punch and he topples over. damn, your jaw hurts too, men like him throw too much of their power into their punches.

"fuck, sam." you groan to your friend, hand trying to pop your jaw back into place. you do, letting out a low shout, before getting your stuff.

stay too long and then he'll call the cops, the last thing you need is another fine print on your academic file. you stumble forward, feeling blood dripping down the side of your head, cheeky bastard, he had rings on.

you barely manage to push the bar door, string of curses falling out of your lip, the cold air immediately frosting your breath. damn it all, and you left your beer half finished.

"excuse me!" the woman's voice carries from the door, and you can see her, urgently trying to get to you. "thank you so much back there."

she's trying to offer you some napkins from her clutch, all you can do it hope that liver punch suckered him to stay on the ground long enough for you to dissapear.

"you have anyone safe?"

"safe?"

you gesture a bit. "like a friend maybe? did you come alone?"

you lean to the side trying to get a glimpse of pretty boy, but he's no where in sight. a good thing. you can see sam though, shoving bills at the bartender, and grabbing jackets.

"no friends, i came with him." her hand goes back to her bruised wrist, yeah that looks awful. you're very glad you stepped in.

"listen, i need to leave now. i would love to do the whole 'thank you, you're welcome' pleasantries, but I don't know how long he'll stay down before he calls the cops."

you explain, seeing sam opening the bar door, urgent eyes calling for you to disappear into the night.

"could you take me home, i really have no other way to get back." you stare into the bar, oh pretty boy's up, shouting at a bartender. you need to exit NOW.

"okay, let's go. i know you're wearing heels, but keep up." you offer a hand, and disappear into the back alleyway. by the time you just turn around the corner at the end, you can hear the distant voice outside the bar.

you're finally in sam's beater car, an old hand-me-down from his grandma, with the girl from the bar in the backseat.

she keeps watching you from the mirror.

"where do you live?" you pull out of the back lot, she's still soothing her bruised wrist.

"eleanor court, upper east side." damn shit, of course she's rich too, loaded with daddy's money just like that dude you suckered punched. how you always manage being at the hands of rich people, you hope to find out soon, because this sucks.

the drive's pretty silent, sam's got his old 80s mixtapes playing from the car radio. and he's humming along as he taps on his passenger door, you're glad that at least one of you has a car.

"woah..." sam brings you out of your thinking. woah is correct, even sam can see it.

colonial style homes the size of manors down the perfectly paved roads. long outdoor lamp lights lining the street. lush bushes and trees lining the sides of the house. not a single police car in sight, you can even see fountains spouting water from a statue.

what a bunch of crap.

"dude, she's asleep." sam taps your shoulder, you quickly put his car in park. looking at her from the rear view, damn she is asleep, jacket covering her torso but her head leaning against the window.

damn, damn, damn.

one wrong HOA member being curious, and you can easily be thrown in jail for the rest of your life. you open your door, rushing to the backseat. opening the door, and placing your hand against her head to keep her body from falling out of the car.

"miss, we're home." she just curls into your hand. "sam, help me hold her up." he nods, using his bodyweight as a rest for the girl's body. you begin searching through her clutch, hopefully she has an id inside.

"kim dahyun.....501 eleanor court." you shove the id back into her clutch. "sam move." you grab a hold of her body, picking her body up. wrapping the jacket and clutch over top of her.

"stay in the car. i'll bring her in." you began walking down the eerily quiet neighborhood, goodness rich people are so pretentious. you struggle to open the gate. then you hear a low mechanic voice.

"hello, who are you?"

"hi, i'm just here to drop off a kim dahyun. she had an issue with some guy at the bar, and she needed someone to take her home." you speak into it, a clicking noise and then the metal box goes silent.

the large metal gates open, you step in, walking up to the front porch, pillars lining the wide entrance.

goodness, you need to get out of this neighborhood. the large wooden door opens and you see two people, a suited man and a maid. of course.

"miss dahyun?" the maid begans fussing over her, hand on her cheek, "oh my!" a loud gasp at the bruised wrist. you drop her into the leather couch.

"what happened?" the butler asks you, offering a towel at your dried blood.

you try your best to keep yourself from dirtying the house, both of them keep staring at you though.

"uh, some guy at the bar, ryan. he kept bruising her wrist, so i had to step in." you point at your head. the butler nods, and the maid begins inspecting the bruise.

"i told miss dahyun to stop seeing him." the butler explains, placing the jacket to cover her.

you nod, so this wasn't even the first time. the maid returns with soothing cream, applying the ointment over her bruised wrists. you stand idly by the couch, a little confused with what to do here.

you stare at dahyun's face, she's rather pretty is what you land on, before the man's voice brings you out of your focus.

"let me offer you a new shirt." you look down, and it does look like you just got into the ring with rocky, blood-dried splotches all over. the butler disappears before you can even say no.

with a folded new shirt, linen and italian, goodness these people have too much money, you shuffle into a bathroom.

changing into it quickly, eyeing all the towels and expensive soaps on the counter. you fix yourself up and exit, seeing the butler and maid still crowding around the girl.

"i, i really should leave. i'm sorry." the butler and maid are still trying to get you to stay, to offer some reward, but really all you want to do is leave this hellscape. unfamiliar faces, with unfamiliar mannerisms, its all too much.

--

"she saved me from a sleazy guy at a bar." dr. yoo jots it down.

"and you?"

"i, i guess i did?"

"you guess?"

"i, yes, i saved her from the sleazy guy." dr. yoo nods.

the ticking sound comes back clearer in your ear. the repetitive ticking feels like tumbling down a hill, imminent and quick swift death.

"let's move on then, how did you two start dating?"

"dahyun was insistent on paying me back for the bar, kept telling me she needed to." you offer.

dr. yoo nods, another scribble along the notepad. then she pulled the file from her desk, and two separate questionnaires werefilled out.

"and it says here, you both attended the same university." ever since dahyun found out you two attended the same university, she began urging you for dinner.

you tried very hard to say no, but in the quad, down the main academic path. she just kept finding you, like a needle in a haystick, she always managed to pick you out from the hundreds of students.

if she wasn't so nice about it, you might have considered it creepy.

"yes, brown." you nod.

"lovely school, my friend's alma mater." dr. yoo comments and lifts her head once more from the notepad.

"how's your sex life?"

you see dahyun's feet uncross and cross again. while you start tapping your foot again.

"we haven't done it," dahyun begins, "in a long while."

dr. yoo nods, and turns to you. "how does that make you feel?"

"i'm not sure."

dr. yoo nods again, dahyun's feet uncross and cross again. the clock's still ticking on the wall.

you are sure it's non-judgmental, it just makes you aggravated, like you're being lectured on how to love.

dahyun can't remember the last time you two have cherished each other. dinner's filled with delicious food, to cover the absence of enticing conversation.

being married to the point of small talk, has drained you both more than you wanted to admit.

"this is still the first session, so let's start with simple exercises. try and vocalize your appreciation for each other. this can be as simple as: i appreciate you doing the dishes today. remember, speaking the unspoken words can change your relationship for the better." dr. yoo stands up, offering you both a handshake and walking you both out her office.

--

"i have to get back to work." you comment, letting dahyun walk in front of you. she nods at that, you both are busy people, even though it's important to try and fix your breaking relationship, you both have jobs to do.

"i'll see you for dinner?" she says as you open her car door, holding a hand over her head as she sits.

"yes, dinner." she nods at you, wanting you to say more. you want to as well, a little unsure.

"thank you, for being here today." she starts, staring up into you, you smile lightly back at her, dahyun's still got that warm eye smile that makes your heart burst.

"you as well dahyun." you lean your head down a bit, "charlie, get her to her office safely." he nods from the rear view. and with that you close her door. watching the car roll away from the sidewalk.

it's weird to have to see a professional for marriage counseling, but in your heart, you do want to fix things with dahyun.

sweet dahyun who is always so concerned with everyone's wellbeing; often neglecting her own. the rest of the afternoon, you try and focus on work, feeling downright awful about how your relationship has disintegrated.

--

"dahyun? i'm home." you enter the brownstone, a little more excited to be home. she's in the kitchen, an adorable brown bear apron over top.

"hey, i'm making pasta tonight." she's smiling.

"need help?"

"no, i should be good. could you set the table?" you leave the kitchen, entering the wine pantry, grabbing one that you know she loves. as well as two glasses, a gift from her parents.

dahyun's walking out with bowls of pasta, surprised to see the bottle in hand.

you begin pouring them into the two glasses, passing one to her, she thanks you quietly, placing down the bowls, and returning to the kitchen. you follow after her, grabbing knives and forks and napkins.

she's busy with another dish, and you hum to yourself, cleaning the silverware while waiting for her.

"damn it. fuck fuck fuck." dahyun's hand jerks back against the pot, her hand instantly going to hold it. you drop the silverware in the sink, quick strides towards her. she burned herself with the pot.

"dahyun, let me see." there are tears in her eyes, and she's shaking her head, she's always been so dismissive of her own pain. you take her hand gently, looking at it. it's definitely bad, red skin over top, hot to the touch. "let's run it under cold water, okay?"

she nods, even though there's tears in her eyes, and all she wants to do is just shrink into herself.

you run the water cold, feeling for it before letting it run over her burned finger. the tears in her eyes are still there, threatening to spill out.

then dahyun cries out. "i'm so stupid, i can't even cook a simple dinner." her tears are falling, much like the water over the hurt finger. like letting the pain rain out from her heart.

"oh dahyun, no you aren't stupid, you never were." you hug her tightly, letting her head fall to your shoulders, quietly crying against your shirt. she cries even harder at that, an anguish cry out for help,

you feel your own tears spring up. how you hate seeing dahyun cry.

"how is it?" you ask, pulling her away, looking at the finger under the water. it's less red, still there but it looks better.

"hurts." she pouts.

"let me go grab some ointment, stay here okay?" you leave, turning down the hallway to the bathroom, rummaging through the medicine cabinet for ointment cream to sooth the pain.

you return quickly, gently dabbing the cream over her finger with a q-tip. letting out a low hiss, and you apologize quickly, letting her relax a bit before continuing to spread it around.

"okay?" you step back, throwing away the q-tip.

"it's good, thank you." then she slips away to finish dinner. you stand by letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding, with every bit of your heart, you hope that dahyun wants to work this out as much as you do.

--

"hello, come on in." dr. yoo's now a familiar face, always a warm if not stoic face. never showing signs of disinterest or much of an opinion, you begin to wonder what it takes to be a professional therapist.

"thank you." you let dahyun ahead of you, her sitting in the left armchair, while you sit on the right. fixing your blazer as you sit with one leg over the other. eyes watching dr. yoo in anticipation.

"how are you both doing?" she starts, that same montblanc in hand, a new shirt, dark blue and glasses hanging on her nose.

dahyun looks to you.

"we're doing okay." you offer, a little smile on your face.

"and you?" dr. yoo turns her head towards dahyun.

"we're doing better." dahyun fiddles with the band-aid over her finger. your eyes linger on it, a reminder of the small act of affection.

"lovely, last time you both mentioned that sexual intimacy had not happened in some time. has that changed since our last session?"

dahyun coughs into her hand, sinking into her armchair. you look away from her.

"no, it hasn't changed." dahyun speaks softly, like she's confessing a sin. you fold your hands over each other.

dr. yoo nods, another line written.

"how is work-life balance for you two?" dr. yoo stares into you, you sit up again.

"it's fine, the normal 9-6pm work day." dr. yoo jots that down. the clock continues to tick in your ears.

"what about you?" dahyun stares at the floor.

"it's okay, usually after work i'll unwind with some wine or television series." dahyun's always been so absorbed with her dramas, often asking you to join her to watch them. you often decline with the pre-tense of overflowing work from the day.

"ah yes, you mentioned you are a wine enthusiast." dahyun nods, wine has always been something she indulged in, you don't share the same love for the drink. finding it all a bit too much for yourself.

"could you tell me how that started?" your eyes go wide a bit, you never bothered to ask dahyun that, just assuming she's always enjoyed it.

"my late father used to own a winery, when i was able to start drinking he started training me as a sommelier." you knew of mr. kim's obsession with wine.

multiple wine cellars across his basement, walls lined with rows of wooden aisles, each row lined with bottles filling the basement. often times you snuck into the basement with dahyun sharing kisses and giggles away from the prying eyes of her parents.

"sorry to hear that mrs. kim, that's lovely to hear that you still has a passion for wine." dr. yoo continues, letting the words fly across the notepad. you uncross and cross the other leg over.

"and you mentioned you were a tennis enthusiast, how did that start?" dr. yoo's eyes are still on the notepad, pen quickly running across the page. you lean forward a bit.

"my friend sam, used to sneak us into the tennis bubble after work, when all the people left the country club. and we would play for hours." dr. yoo nods, more lines filling across the page.

"you never told me it was because of sam, you said it was just a hobby you had." dahyun comments, eyes on you, a little suprised at the conversation.

"i couldn't afford tennis equipment, too expensive." you explain.

dr. yoo continues to write as you and dahyun talk.

"but all those times you came to the country club, you offered to pay for the tab." dahyun leans into you a bit, you let your eyes wander over the name plaque on dr. yoo's desk.

"had to work overtime to pay it off." dahyun sinks back into her chair.

"and dahyun, you seem suprised, how does this make you feel?"

she looks back at her hands.

"i feel awful, i didn't know it costed that much for you." you return your gaze to her, watching the anguish in her eyes.

you wish you didn't feel ashamed about your financial situation, but every second spent with the kims was another jab at your own social status.

"i'm sorry dahyun, i kept it from you because i didn't want you to treat me differently." you shrink a bit, pulling the blazer a bit tighter. eyes falling to the floor naturally.

"and i'm sorry too, for never noticing." dahyun speaks it softly, you barely register the words.

you just nod, letting her hand hold yours. you can't bring yourself to look at her, too ashamed that you feel like you have to hide yourself from the woman you devoted your life to.

you begin to think about the early days of dating dahyun, days filled with anticipation of seeing her. constantly checking your account for how much you could expend on your paycheck, often stretching it for a simple date.

often on the weekends, the kim's visited the country club, the managers all fussing over them, pampering them with free items, as if the rich needed more free item, it used to make you angry.

but never dahyun, a sweet girl built upon integrity and honesty, always offering to pay. treating you with respect that most members of the country would never do, them often throwing towels or other trash at you to pick up. and with gritted teeth, you always do, remembering you needed this job.

"so you both met often at the country club?" dr. yoo cuts into your thinking, pulling you out of your memories. one's that are filled with happiness and anger, all in the same bunch. anger at the rich, but happiness at seeing that beautiful smile in person.

"yes, i worked there, and dahyun's family were well known members there." you explain, squeezing dahyun's hand in yours.

--

"2 o'clock, the kims." your head snaps up from the tennis magazine you're reading. and there you can see your supervisor and your supervisor's supervisor crowding around the kim's.

especially dahyun's mother, she was always more prone to fawning at the attention that the staff would shower them in.

"stand up!" you read from your supervisor's mouth, then he goes back to smiling fakely at the kim's probably hoping to pick at their pockets later when they're far too tipsy from all the champagne they bathe in.

"one day i'm going to strangle him." you side whisper to sam as you both bow at the family.

"not if i get to him first." sam side whispers back, smiling at the kim's. continue to bow at them as they walk across the lobby to the courts. squeaky new tennis shoes on the marble floor.

"hey! you work here!" that familiar voice., you've been trying to avoid her since she found you in the quads hanging out with sam. insistently trying to get you to let her pay you back for the bar.

"hi miss, glad to see you are doing better." sam walks away, citing a need for a bathroom break, but you know better with the way he playfully walks away.

"you still haven't said yes to letting me pay you back."

"because you don't have to pay me back, i just did a nice deed."

"and you should be rewarded." you just sink back into your stool. letting her lean over the desk. "well as kim dahyun, a prized patron here, i order you to follow me to the courts."

"the courts?"

"yes, i want to play." you stand up, heading into the back to get that signature tennis racket that she loves so much, specific engraving of her name etched on the neck of the racket. "grab another one!" she shouts from the desk. you grab a generic one, one that still costed way more than a month's paycheck. placing both racquets under your arm.

"here's what we're going to do, three games, if i win three, i get to pay you back for the bar, dinner on me.

"miss dahyun, that really isn't neccessary."

"it's my wish, and you can't deny a patron's wish here."

so you get beaten, pretty badly, 0 - 3. with you sweating and falling on your back, breathing heavy as dahyun grins from the other side of the court. letting out a loud laugh.

"dinner on me, i'll drag you there myself if i have to!" dahyun's still bouncing a tennis ball with her racket while you recover your breath, all you can do is lift an arm to give her a thumbs up.

--

"well i am afraid our time is up for today, please schedule a session again soon." dr. yoo offers a light smile, and walks you both out of the door. letting the heavy door close behind you. you look at dahyun, she hasn't looked at you since the confession.

you walk her to her car, "dahyun, i really am sorry for hiding it from you. i just didn't want money to affect us."

she stares at your blazer, it's buttoned, the same button she stitched on a couple weeks ago.

"but it does, doesn't it?"

"money?" you stop to think about it, as much as you tried to let it not be a determining factor in your relationship with dahyun.

it really does bleed into your relationship, leaving you paralyzed with fear that she'll leave you.

when you first met the kim's for an official dinner introduced as dahyun's girlfriend, you spent hours with sam trying to find a decent hand-me-down outfit for the dinner.

they were not impressed to say the very least, you had no proper dinner manners. confused your soup spoon with the dessert spoon. nearly knocking wine onto mr. kim.

"i think it did, for a very long time." you open the door for dahyun, letting her in, hand covering her head as she sits inside. you walk over to the driver's side, sitting inside. "i wanted to prove myself to your family, but mostly to you."

"you didn't need to prove anything to me." she says, hands gently grabbing yours. you feel your heart sink a bit.

"it sucked, seeing all your friends get gifted lavish trips and designer bags, while all i could afford to do was cook you homemade dinners." you explain, thinking back your university days, meeting dahyun's friend.

"but that's what they didn't have." she counters. "all the homemade gifts, it was just gifts with enough value to hold each other over."

you really did try your best, with limited budget and often asking for favors. you did your best to offer the best anniversary, valentine's, and birthday gifts.

all of which were intended to express your love for her, spending hours decorating homemade cakes, learning how to cook dinners for two. renting cars to go on road trip, all of which you happily experienced with dahyun.

"i wanted to be someone you could confidently show off to your friends." you think back to dahyun's birthday parties.

open bars, waiters and a massive table filled with gifts for her. all you could do was stare in wonder at the exuberant gifts, all the while you would shrink into yourself, trying to hide your embarrassment watching her open your gifts.

"do you? did you...resent me for it? having money i mean." dahyun drops the question you've been trying so hard to ignore. it's been plaguing your mind lately, how you think about how hard you tried, giving your all into your work for an ounce of validation from the kim's.

validation that you never seem to get.

"no, never. never you, you were the only person i didn't resent." you smile at her, genuinely, and she smiles back. you're glad you met her, even if the circumstances have made your life complicated.

"for the record, i was always confident in showing you off, because i knew who you were in your heart." you give her hand a squeeze as you drive home.

--

"another hour please, i'll pay triple." you say, staring at dr. yoo.

"i'm sorry mrs. kim, but i have another appointment." she stands up, trying to walk you out of the room, and when the door opens, there stands two woman on the other side.

"sorry for the delay, mrs. and mrs. park."

"no worries, dr. yoo, sana and i don't mind." the two woman nod at you, before sitting in the same chairs that you and dahyun were sitting just seconds ago.

"i'm sorry mrs. kim, but really, we don't have more time today, schedule another appointment soon." and dr. yoo closes her heavy wooden door.

you nod solemnly, "dr. yoo, i'm sorry for my behavior." you explain, a bit embarrassed now.

"no need, i understand. go check up on mrs. kim." she just nods and gives your shoulder a pat, closing the door again.

now you stand in the office lobby, with a crying dahyun in a chair.

you sink to your knees, eyes staring up at her. her hair like curtains to her face, concealing the quiet sniffles and sobs that she's letting out.

"dahyun, darling?"

the tears keep falling, staining her dress pants, you hold her shaky hands. as she speaks to you, holding her breath here and there to control her emotions. "you never told me."

"i know, i didn't want to burden you." rubbing at her hands to sooth the pain in her heart.

"but isn't that what we're here for, to shoulder each other's burdens." she cries louder, a couple in the office look over, but you don't care right now. you brush the tears away.

"we are, i just, i didn't know how to tell you."

"but he, he did all that to you, and you didn't tell me. he's my own father."

"i know, i am sorry."

"let's go home please, i want to talk at home." you nod, letting her walk to the car, following her footsteps closely.

--

dr. yoo welcomes you both into her office, getting familiar with the diptyque roses candle burning lowly on the desk.

"mrs. and mrs. kim, please have a seat." dahyun smiles as she sits down, a new pair of glasses hanging on her nose.

"new glasses?" you ask.

dr. yoo smiles at that, pushing up the glasses. "yes, new! just got them yesterday. you smile, dr. yoo has become a familiar and friendly face with you and dahyun. almost like she's a friend, almost.

"shall we get started?" she looks up at you two, that same notepad in hand and the montblanc.

you both nod in sync.

"so, how have you both been?"

"good." dahyun smiles a bit, letting her arm lay along the armchair, eyes brighter than usual. you smile at that.

"and you?"

"we're doing better, i'm happier." dr. yoo write it along a new line, a light smile on her face.

"that's lovely to hear, could you explain why?" dr. yoo picks her head up, watching you explain how life has been. there's been a shift at home, dahyun and you having more time to go on dates instead of tensed dinners filled with the sounds of silverware.

"we spend more time together, having lunch together, and dinner's have become fun to cook together." dr. yoo nods at that, more words written along the notepad, you share a warm gaze at dahyun. her eyes smiling in that way you love so much.

"i haven't asked this before, but how are the in-laws?"

you immediately frown, thinking about the pretentious man that was dahyun's father. a dicator in the family, ruling with an iron fist and often giving you trouble for growing up "different." as he so nicely put it.

you often remember dinner's with the kims filled with biting your tongue and just letting snide comments go by, even dahyun's mother had no say whenever he made uncomfortable jokes.

"i don't think dahyun's parents liked me much, especially her father." you sit back, continuing your thoughts about the demanding man.

"could you expand on that?"

"i didn't grow up rich, which was the biggest thing he disliked, he didn't think i was a good fit for dahyun." you explain, often remembering the side comments that her father would make when dahyun couldn't hear.

"and did you know about this?" dr. yoo turns to dahyun.

"yes. he was adamant about me breaking up with her but i never did." that you didn't know. you always assumed that it was just sly comments towards you, but never did mr. kim outward display his disdain towards you to dahyun.

you button up your jacket. dr. yoo continues to write across her page, leaving you both to sit and think about dahyun's words.

"understood, do you think dahyun's parents affected your relationship with dahyun?" you think about the question, how loaded it all is, you cannot even begin to explain how suffocating being around him was.

family dinners spent trying to escape into the bathroom so he would stop pestering you about your business ventures, or the capital that you had under your belt. you just shudder whenever it becomes holiday seasons.

fearful of the power that mr. kim had over you, one of his last wishes before he passed away was upending his entire gambling debt onto you.

it had become a hold over you, that he would only support the love that you had for dahyun if you were able to help pay off his debt. it became a huge burden on your shoulders, conjuring up a plan to reach financial freedom and success without hindering dahyun's future.

one that you wanted to support from day one, pushing her towards her goal of becoming a fashion designer, every day you suffered at the hands of her father, letting his debt take over your life, all to prove your devotion to dahyun.

and it hurt, to shoulder this weight alone, you always had shouldered the weight of the world on your shoulders to begin with.

"yes, unfortunately. dahyun's father, he. he told me that by taking on his gambling debt before he died, that he would allow me to marry dahyun." you explain, feeling your shoulders release tension.

dr. yoo continues to write fervently, eyes on the page, but a slight nod here and there. you can feel dahyun's gaze on your face, one in disbelief and utter shock. you turn to look at her, meeting her blank eyes.

more than anything, you beg for dahyun to understand, to really understand where you are coming from. a whole life you lived having to make opportunities for yourself, little to no support from others. fighting tooth and nail just to prove that you are worth it. that you are deserving of success and love.

"were you aware she took on your father's debt?" dr. yoo looks to dahyun, not missing a beat or letting any inflection slip in her tone.

"i wasn't. i wasn't even aware he had debt to begin with. what? sorry. um, what? no sorry, how much?" dahyun turns to you, trying to understand all the information that has just been dumped onto her.

"50 million." you sigh, just thinking about the figures. spending late nights calculating interest, and ways to even pay off the large sum of money.

"50? million?" dahyun stands up suddenly, you stand up too. watching her bewildered eyes scan across the room, trying to control her breathing, watching the clock, watching the blue in the reds in the carpet. holding herself as she walks out of the room.

you stare at the open door, the sight of dahyun turning and sinking into a chair.

dr. yoo stands up.

"mrs. kim, perhaps we should end this session here today. dahyun seems to be shutting down."

--

you and dahyun are standing on both ends of the table, her eyes filled with tears as she glares at you.

"you don't think i recognize money-obsessed? you think i can't recognize my father turning you into him? that's all i can see! our marriage is falling apart and you have become my father and i've become my own mother!"

"dahyun, please, all i wanted was to marry you, he forced his hand, i didn't know what else to do." you can feel yourself shaking a bit, your heart racing as you both stand on opposite ends of the room.

"you should have told me." dahyun arms are crossed as she stares you down.

"i didn't want to tarnish the image of your father. i just wanted to love you, and if that was the final condition to marry you, i would do it.." you throw your arms around, frustrated with all this confrontation.

"his gambling debt costed us years of our marriage, can't you see? all this time you wanted to prove yourself to him, he just used you to fix his own problems." dahyun uncrosses her arms, voice reverberating around the large dining room.

"i thought, i thought it would, make him okay with me." your hands drop to your face as you cry into your hands. dahyun stops and walks over to you, wrapping her arms around you, holding you tightly.

"oh darling, i wish you didn't care so much for him opinion." she softly rubs your hair, rubbing circles into the back of your chest as you cry freely. for the first time in a long time, you feel the exhaustion, sadness, yearning all come crashing through your body.

"i wish i didn't too." through long cries in between you finally vocalize it.

"but you love me? isn't that why you did all this?" she questions, a thought thats been plaguing her mind. do you still love her? do you still have the same passion for her you once declared openly to the world? do you still mean each vow you said to her as your hands held hers?

"i do, more than anything else in the world, i love you. my words can only show so much of it." you lift your head up, wiping her tears as she wipes yours.

a small smile on her lips, it's all so stupid.

"show me." she stops crying for a bit, eyes glimmering with hope. she stares at you, in that way you love so much.

"show you?" you try and stop the tears, getting a clearer view of her face.

"show me how much you love me." she says crashing her lips into yours, pulling you forward, your feet nearly stumbling as you wrap your arms around her waist. "show me."

she whispers against your lips, like a spell, you nod and grab a hold of her, rushing you both into your bedroom. you try and show her, that the passion you have for her has always been there, and always will.

--

"mrs and mrs. kim!" dr. yoo invites you in, a warm light shining into the room. you both get seated, while dahyun lets go of your hand.

"i know last time, we had a bit of an outburst, how has that been?" dr. yoo stares at you both, notepad in hand.

"we resolved it." dahyun says confidently.

"resolved it?" she stares at dahyun. dahyun just nods.

"and you? what do you think?"

"we resolved it." you nod back, smiling at dahyun.

"alright, that's lovely to hear. so to follow up, how is sexual intimacy going?" dr. yoo notes the light blush on your faces, unwilling to look at her or even each other.

"it's, it's um, it's good." dahyun starts and coughs a bit, shuffling her feet.

"and you?"

"it's good. very good." you reply, and dahyun slaps your arm, trying to get you to shut up. "oh i see." dr. yoo writes along a new line of her notepad. eyes reviewing her notes so far, comparing previous sessions with this one.

"is there more we should discuss?" dr. yoo comments, eyes lifting off the page again, a light smile upon her face.

"no, i don't think so." dahyun nods at your words, you smile at her. and she shares that same eye smile that you love so much right back.

"right then, well, these sessions are on a as-needed basis. so let me say this in the nicest way possible. i hope we never have to meet in this room again. although my door is always open." dr. yoo gives you both a wink as she ushers you both outside. you wrap your arm around dahyun's shoulder, a little smile on your face.

you hold onto dahyun just a little tighter.

--

a/n: genuinely had so much trouble with this fic, but it has come to fruition so i'm happy regardless! had to do research on marriage counseling and i hope it is obvious but this is fictional and i am not a licensed therapist so there will be inaccuracies. also shoutout to @cry4mina who listened to me word vomit my troubles with this fic <3 please listen to the song as well as look up the meaning of the song!! stay safe and stay healthy everyone!!

[wileys-russo]

I NEEEED a bf leah fic about going to NY with her because she has been pulling some ultimate looks. Maybe being at the basketball game with her and her trying to explain everything to you as well as being super touchy because she can feel people looking at what’s hers

jorts II l.williamson

"leah for the love of god please tell me i'm seeing things and you are not wearing prada loafers with nike tube socks right now." you shook your head in disbelief as you finished doing your hair and returned from the bathroom.

"you know how it is, prada or nada baby." the blonde grinned smugly from where she was sat on the edge of your hotel bed, putting down her phone as she drunk you in.

"come here." the taller girl purred, quickly standing to her feet and reaching out for you, taking your hands and whistling as she spun you in a circle.

"hello sexy." the defenders hands fell possessively to your hips as her eyes hungrily roamed your exposed cleavage spilling out of the lacey black bralette which just peeked out of the chocolate brown oversized button up you were wearing in place of a dress.

her pupils dilated at the black leather knee high boots which completed the look, jaw clenching as her tongue licked slowly at her lips making you smile smugly, adoring the obvious effect you had on her.

"oh god leah...jorts?" you groaned ruining the moment as your gaze flickered down to the washed denim which hung to her knees, pushing her away with a roll of your eyes.

"jorts are in at the moment love." the blonde retorted with her usual cocky smile, slipping on a few rings as you swapped over your earrings. "right to go?" leah offered you her hand, grabbing her phone off the bed as you slid your room key into your clutch.

"i hate that you can make anything look good."

~

"so we want the blue team to win right?" you clarified quietly, tapping at leahs hand which was placed on your thigh. "for once yes." leah chuckled, slender fingers tracing lines on your warm skin as she banged on about the rules, you only half listening as you simply hummed.

"at least try to pretend like you care darling." leah chuckled quietly offering you a sip of her drink as you tried to take the cup, giving her a look as she moved it back.

her eyes boring into yours expectantly you knew what she wanted, so with a roll of your eyes you lent forward allowing her to put the cup to your lips, not missing the quiet warning not to roll your eyes at her again which followed.

you took a swig before your girlfriend moved the cup back, ring clad thumb wiping a few loose droplets from your bottom lip, your stomach fluttering at the simple gesture as the blonde turned back to the game, squeezing your thigh gently.

everything was fine until the buzzer sounded for halftime, leah leaving you with jason as she disapeared to get the two of you another drink, placing a loving kiss to the side of your head as she stood.

however when she returned to see her seat was filled by another body her good mood was instantly diminished. the blonde was easily fifty metres away but already saw on your face that you weren't comfortable, much as you tried covering it up with a fake smile.

"sorry mate, seems you're in my seat." you let out a silent sigh of relief as your girlfriend appeared in front of you, glancing down to you wordlessly checking in as you gave her a small nod of assurance.

"we're just talking, there's a seat there." the man nodded behind him to jasons vacant seat as the movie star had been briefly whisked away by a few of his peers for a photo, the stranger not even sparing leah a look as you glanced up at her with pleading eyes.

the blondes jaw clenched as she watched the american place his hand on your shoulder and you went rigid, hands fidgeting with the bottom of your dress shirt as his eyes shamelessly wandered your body.

"yeah there is. and i'm sure you've got one elsewhere, so why don't you run along and go sit back down in it." leah warned, voice now octaves deeper as her eyes glared into the side of his head. "look doll-" the mans gaze finally lifted from you and his face slackened seeing the english captains bright blue orbs piercing down on him angrily.

"oh shit you're leah williamson." the man realised, eyes widening as he shot to his feet and took a step away, allowing your girlfriend to sit back down, placing the drinks by her feet and stretching her arm protectively over the back of your chair.

"nah not me, sorry mate." and with that the blondes hand which sat on your shoulder grabbed your chin, the defender leaning in and rewarding you with a searingly passionate kiss, your breath hitching as she wasted no time slipping her tongue in your mouth.

by the time she pulled away with a slight pop, leaving your lips somewhat bruised and a little swollen the man had scurried off back to wherever he'd come from.

leahs own lips curled into a cocky smile as yours tingled from the feverish kiss, brought back down to earth as leah turned your head to meet her eyeline, hand still gripping your jaw only now a lot more tenderly.

"did he do anything to you?" the blonde asked seriously, perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowing with concern as her eyes roamed your face for any sign of discomfort. "no he was only sat there for a minute or two before you came back, I told him i was here with someone but he wouldn't take the hint."

"i should have poured my fucking drink on his head, smug prick." leah muttered angrily, letting go of your chin and pressing a much softer kiss to your forehead. "hey calm down. i'm okay, don't let him spoil our evening." you grabbed her hand and squeezed as leah nodded, downing her drink in one and exhaling, rolling her neck a few times as her arm stayed wrapped around your shoulder.

"besides, once we get back to the hotel later baby i'm yours and only yours." you whispered to your blonde lover as the game recommenced, causing her cocky smile to only grow wider.

"in that case then i'll make sure the entire hotel are reminded who you belong to as well." leah murmered in your ear as she kissed at your rapidly blushed cheek.

"all mine. my most pretty girl."

[steviewashere]

Dream Come True

Rating: General CW: Minor internalized ableism on Steve's end Tags: Established Relationship, Married Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Future Fic, Adopting a Child, Parenthood, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Let Them Live a Quiet Life God Damn It, Mild Hurt/Comfort

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is about healing each other's wounds."

💕—————💕

They haven’t discussed children since the second month they were together. Was that probably a little too early in their relationship? Probably—Eddie will be brave enough to admit that right now. But, considering where they’re at now: Steve is forty-seven and Eddie’s forty-eight, their wedding bands are simple and gold (something easily spotted amongst the silver ones that Eddie still wears), the house they took a loan out for is painted yellow with white shutters installed (well, they paid Dustin and Will to do it. They were happy to help), they live in Massachusetts away from public eye, and though they don’t have a dog—not yet, the service dog process has been a long and weary one on Steve’s end—they have their little brown tabby cat. They’ve got a well furnished home. And years of love between them.

Nearly twenty-eight years in total. Nineteen years wedded. Six years of that are legally recognized. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is they stopped talking about the prospect of having kids.

Eddie’s initial answer at the beginning was, “Maybe. I think it would be neat. But, I’m gay, Steve. That isn’t really a possibility.” He chuckled a little bit. “I meant like adopting, but in a technical sense—Considering what’s in my pants, the possibility is still out the window.”

Steve’s was changed from what he told Nancy in that Winnebago. “I still want children. Or, just one. I want a quiet life. Even if you make it as some big rock star, I want a quiet private life.”

It was doable. What Steve had whispered on Eddie’s shoulder, that was doable. The question for years though was, When does he want that? And also, When will he leave to pursue that?

The answer was clear. Steve was never going to pursue that. That, sure, they’d have the quiet life. But never have children. And Eddie saw him wilt a little further and further. When they passed by the playground at the park. The daycare up the street from their home. After the seizure diagnosis, Steve stopped looking and thinking about it all together. It hurt Eddie’s heart.

He may have got the quiet life. And Eddie may have lived out his simple dream. He’d been a rockstar for a little bit in the late nineties and early two-thousands, retiring before they got married. But…Steve hasn’t lived his dream. Eddie hates that he thinks it’s being held back from him. Eddie’s determined to heal that hurt inside him.

——— Steve comes home from his Wednesday teaching shift around four in the evening. Eddie’s already on the couch, combing Poncho’s fur, watching the local news. He’s got a very important print out laid neatly on the coffee table. He hears Steve set down his briefcase on the dining table, his footsteps retreating to their kitchen to rinse out his thermos, coming back to the front door and placing his loafers on the shoe rack, and he hangs up his coat. Then, he enters the living room, hands scrambling to undo his tie, body leaning over the arm of the couch to press a kiss against Eddie’s mouth.

But then he pulls away, turning his whole body to watch the news. And that’s when he spots it. The flyer. He shuffles over on his mismatched socked feet, hands falling away from the collar of his dress shirt. He swipes up the paper. Behind his glasses, he squints.

It’s advertisement for the adoption agency some forty minutes out. Eddie hopes, by everything, that this will heal the pain in his own chest, and the emotional line of thinking in Steve’s brain. Hopes with everything that his body can physically give.

“What’s this about?” Steve asks. His voice is neutral. Almost…dare Eddie say, steely. Okay, maybe he made the wrong move. “We haven’t even—“

“I know,” Eddie immediately says. “I know we haven’t talked about it. But, sweetheart, just listen to me, alright?” At Steve’s confused and hesitant nod, Eddie tries to arrange his words. “This is something you’ve been wanting since forever ago. And I know that I haven’t really voiced my wants on it. But I also thought that it would never happen.

“That it would never be something people like me—“ He raises his eyebrows and points to the keyring attached to Steve’s belt loop. The short rainbow garland that sits discreetly among his keys. “—Would ever get the chance to do. But I—Steve, god, I want it so bad. I want to be able to be a dad and chase around a kiddo of our own while you’re busy at work. I want to see one off for school for their first day and cry like I’ll never see them again. Wanna make them a lunch they can bring to school, the same time that I make your lunch for your school. I want to watch them grow up with your goofy dancing skills and our combined love for music. And I—I want to be a better parent that I could’ve ever imagined.

“I want it with you,” Eddie breathes. “I want all of that with you. And I know that you still want it. Your forlorn looks at couples with babies. Every time you see Lucas and Max and their spitfire teenager, your eyes get this brightness to them that I—I have to be honest, I don’t think I’ve seen you happy like that since we got married.” He swallows at some of the implications there. And it’s not meant to be accusatory, but gosh does Eddie notice. The way his sunflower wilts. “This is just something for you to think about, okay? I know my decision on it. But think about it.”

Steve’s grip on the paper trembles. And his eyes are searing Eddie in a way that melts him. Blazing with adoration and love. “You want that?” He shakily asks. “You want to raise a kid with me?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, baby. I really, really, really do.”

“Even though…Even though I have seizures that could scare them shitless? And I get so angry some days that all I can do is hide in our bedroom and cry? And I—You want that with somebody like me?” He hesitates to ask again. Eddie doesn’t answer, but his arms open in comfort and his eyes soften with earnest. Steve doesn’t move from his spot, though. He looks back at the paper. “What’s the—Our first step?”

“We apply. And they determine if we’re worthy and that it’ll be safe,” Eddie answers. “If they see us fit, they’ll look at our house and things like that. We’ll come back to that later on. If that’s something you still want.”

“Okay,” Steve states with fervor. “Let’s do this.”

——— After a tedious process, Eddie realizes how correct he was.

It’s a Saturday. The curtains are open. Dinner is simmering on the stovetop. And Eddie stirs the soup while he listens in on Steve’s activity in the living room.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Steve is cooing. “Good job, Carmen. Look at you.” He’s been supervising her tummy time everyday he’s able to. Loves being able to lay on his back on the floor, eyes watching their daughter, his fingers combing through her hair as she uses her wide brown eyes to wonder about the world around her.

Eddie bites back a smile.

“That’s Poncho,” Steve is saying. He’s introducing them like they’re all acquaintances around a water cooler. Eddie, maybe, snickers a little bit behind his hand. “He’s gonna be your buddy. He likes the space between his shoulder blades scratched. Just like you, huh?” And hears the moment that Steve dully traces his fingernails on Carmen’s back. She gurgles a little excited babbling. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” Steve murmurs. “Daddy likes that, too.” He’s talking about himself. Because he practically fought tooth and nail for that title. Eddie wouldn’t have it any other way.

From the kitchen archway, Eddie surveys the display on the living room floor. And Steve’s on his back in his pajamas. Glasses smooshed awkwardly up his face as his cheek is pressed against the carpet, eyes gone soft and glistening while Carmen is on her belly. Her hands are sprawled in front of her, squeezing at the soft toys they had gotten. He’s brushing his fingers through her short, curly wisps of brown hair. Then, his hand travels back down to massage and scratch at her back again. She’s wearing a pink striped onesie and a pair of white socks on her little feet.

He clears his throat to make himself known. Steve looks up at him, softly smiling. “I reckon things are going good in here?” Steve only nods, too enamored with petting at Carmen’s back. Eddie finally smiles at him. “Good,” he whispers. He leans his weight on the doorway. A dish rag thrown over his shoulder, arms crossed low over his belly, hair thrown up in a loose bun on his head. Domestic life has really begun to suit him, if he’s honest. He finds himself at ease about it now.

As he turns back to the kitchen, to serve up their bowls of soup, Steve calls his name. He immediately turns back around. Greeted with his husband’s soft face, his deepened smile lines, his messy hair spread on the carpet. He’s more youthful than ever, fatherhood has changed him for the better, at least Eddie thinks so. He hums to see what Steve needs, because by god, he’ll do anything for him.

“Thank you,” Steve whispers.

“For what?”

“Making my hurt go away,” Steve says. But Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. And Steve clarifies, “Allowing me to accomplish my final dream. I’m really happy that it’s with you.”

Eddie crosses into the living room, crouching down to kiss Steve’s forehead, pecking Carmen’s soft head, too. He combs his own fingers through Steve’s hair. Smiling at the way he keens. “You made me believe that I could be a good dad,” he admits. “I can’t wait to do this right.”

Steve brings a hand to Eddie’s cheek. His index finger softly tracing down the side of his face. “Love you,” he murmurs.

Turning his face, Eddie kisses the tip of Steve’s finger. “Love you, too,” Eddie easily says in return.

Sure, he got to be a rockstar, but he thinks that this life—Steve soft and middle aged and smiling at him, petting down their daughter’s back, cooing soft as if he’s not almost fifty—is much better than anything he could’ve ever dreamed. Maybe filling the hole in Steve’s soul, the remedy that their daughter brings—Maybe that heals something for Eddie, too.

💕—————💕

[despairots]

#A NIGHT TO REMEMBER, o. dazai!

a special oneshot!

description, it’s special to know how the other feels. to communicate is the best, though, dazai isn’t one for words but it’s fine, you’re the same. neither of you can put the feelings you have into words.

— story contains, angst, established relationship, swearing, suicide mentions, depressing talks, “no longer human” connections i think?, r! psychoanalysis’s i guess?, mental health, trauma talking, character deaths, if i missed anything let me know! gender neutral! reader.

“why are you writing this?” bc dazai is one of the characters i heavily relate to on another level. hes so much different from mizuki akiyama and satoru gojo. and this is just me talking a lot about dazai’s character and analyzing him… btw, r! wears a black blazer (or leather jacket) white button up with a black waist coat, either brown shorts or pants (maybe black of u want), underneath the shorts or pants are like black tights and slip on penny loafers.

long before you started dating dazai, there was an obvious connection that you only saw and felt. obviously, you were friends during those time periods because you worked in the same place, everyone there were friends.

though, the friendship you two had were entirely different from the rest, had the same humour but showing it differently. you wouldn’t lie and say that dazai flirting with you just to ask for a double suicide didn’t concern you, because it did. there’s no doubt that he’ll try and eventually succeed (although, death doesn’t accept him).

there’s nothing that can kill this man, no matter how hard he tries. you picked that up during one of his failed attempts, it almost succeeded if kunikida wasn’t there, you thanked him a ton. all he said in response is that; “i have to look over that idiot one way or another.” no matter how much dazai annoys his coworkers, they still care.

when dazai tries to commit and somewhat fails, it’s almost like he’s punishing himself for still being alive. you know his past, after all, you were in port mafia with him, even though you two didn’t work together or how he didn’t know you during that time, you sure knew him.

he was surrounded by death, in the port mafia and the ada, it follows him yet never accepts it’s his time to come to the afterlife. he makes these plans that somewhat end up succeeding though he hurts himself in the process, always worrying you. what if eventually death actually accepts him at some point?

dazai has been extraordinarily smart every since he was a kid to the point where he’s been dehumanized by dubbing him; “the demon prodigy”. you didn’t know anything about his parents, you did know what drove him to be tired of living. he’s tired living, bored by life and the people around him, to him, they are easily predictable and manipulated that nothing can surprise him.

he can’t find sense to the world but most importantly, he doesn’t find sense in life, he ends up reverting to extensional depression, continuing the cycle he lives in.

dazai has been exploited ever since he was 14 and taken into the port mafia by mori. he was kept alive by mori, by chuuya, by everyone. he was used until there was nothing left. he never had any love nor hope (that he’d ever have someone to understand him) until a friend he later brought up to you, oda.

he truly believed he deserved everything that happened to him in the port mafia.

you believe that younger dazai never believed that he could be better, but if he’s changing now than he always had the ability to change, just never tried. he was sure the mafia was the only fate he had and the only place to escape of living.

then oda died. dazai was free, with ango’s help of wiping his criminal records. without ango’s help, he would’ve never been free from mafia, though he knows his past will always haunt him, he’s accepted that. he also knows that his indebted to ango, he knows he owes him.

since oda’s death, dazai’s trust had ran thin and he’s always on guard, his ability to open up to anyone had been cut off because he can not lose anyone again. the things he cares about and didn’t wanna lose, is lost the moment he gains it.

his plans always evolve other people, rather to manipulate or exploit. you don’t blame him, if it meant surviving, you would do it too.

he is someone who jokes but never opens up nor can be his true self. he’s a wreck who will drag anyone else down with him, that was a price you had to pay for dating him. he repulsed the idea of love and being in a relationship with you because of how he’ll be afraid of losing you.

dazai dated you as a joke, to see how thing will end, until he realized that you were somewhat different. you were always one step of ahead, had almost the same ability that involved contact, and you had this missing glint in your eyes. that’s just the surface though.

dazai knows there’s more to you— he doesn’t know about your connections to the port mafia though— but he doesn’t bother bringing the topic up to you though nor does he like talking about it.

at nights like this, where he’s staring aimlessly somewhere and devoid of emotion, he’s completely vulnerable in your shared dorm. sitting on the couch, cheek on the palm of his hand as the other searches the cold touch of your hand, seeking for some company.

—and you’re there. sitting on the couch with him and a book discarded in your lap, only staring at dazai with a look of curiosity and content, he looks peaceful despite the war going on in his head.

(you were memorized by the destruction he creates and has, it was peaceful to know what beautiful destruction that dazai carries with him).

when dazai feels the cold skin of your hand, he could feel his ability cancelling yours out as your hand covers his, holding it tightly yet so soft that he wonders if you’re even there. dazai finally looks at you, face still devoid of emotion, watching you reopen your book.

“morning, sleeping beauty.” you hummed softly, an amused tone with your words. dazai groaned and knocked your book off your lap, kicking his legs up into your lap and laying down, now staring up at the ceiling.

hearing dazai go silent wasn’t rare, it was rather common when you two are in your shared dorm, but not hearing him say something stupid back confused you.

you turned your head to dazai, taking notice of his eyes that threatened to pour tears in front of you, “you okay, ‘samu?” knowing him for a while now, he wouldn’t open up and talk about his feelings. it’s fine though, you’re like that too, and you wouldn’t mind waiting forever even if it didn’t come.

dazai didn’t respond.

he never did.

he closed his eyes and if you listened closer, you could hear the shaky breath that he exhaled. taking his hand in yours, you placed a chaste kiss to his palm, the contact making dazai open his eyes slowly and sit up on his elbows.

“when are you gonna leave?” he’s says stupid shit all the time, it doesn��t effect you, none of his words effect you. it should’ve effected you but it didn’t, and dazai could tell by the unamused look on your face, “when are you gonna take your life seriously?” you lightly jabbed at him, hearing him scoff and mutter ‘hypocrite’ underneath his breath.

dazai sat up properly, scooting closer to you and grabbing your hand, setting his head on your shoulder. dazai’s touch starved but refuses any contact that doesn’t involve him initiating it, you’re an expectation, you’ve always been every since the relationship started.

silence took over you, the fan in the background aswell as dazai’s calming breath stirring you into a tired state, laying your head on dazai’s head (knowing the neck pain wouldn’t be worth it tomorrow).

“y’know i’d wait, right?” dazai hums underneath his breath as a response, “how do i know you’re not lying?” and you scoff. rolling your tired eyes, for a guy like him to ask you that question is amusing. “we’ve been lying to eachother for a while but i’m not lying about this, ‘samu.”

the former executive makes himself more comfortable in the crook of your neck, forcing you to lay down and keep him close, “i know.” the words came out muffled, and alas, his eyes are shut again and his sleeping in your arms that are now warm.

with him being asleep, you could pick out the smallest details about the boy in your arms. in your arms, he isn’t the former demon prodigy, in your arms, he isn’t a former port mafia member, in your arms, he isn’t a dehumanized person.

he’s just a boy.

osamu dazai isn’t one for words, but it’s okay, because you’re not one for words either. it’s gonna be like that for awhile, or forever, only time could tell. dazai knows this; you know this. and since dazai’s betrayal to the port mafia, he’s changing, but if he’s changing now, he was always capable of changing, he just never cared enough to try.

osamu dazai isn’t one for words, neither are you.

tick.

[thewriterg]

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐀𝐛𝐜𝐬

pairing(s);hobie brown x fem!reader, hobie brown x male!reader

summary; you see the title!

word count; around 2k

warning(s); everyone mentioned is 19+, smut.

A/n;—GIFs; @cowboysfuck— The debates going down with the age of everyone in atsv has me shaking in my boots so just know Hobie is a good and legal yummy adult in this 💀

🕷️Aftercare

Being completely and totally honest, babe he’s not cleaning you up.

I know the truth hurts but we have to stop the lies :(

If you meet him at one of his sets or the pub something like that? He’s viewing it as a quick fuck

He’s. A. Whore.

I mean we all seen that slutty ass waist right!?

He’s ran through! 😔

but I’m gonna feed into just a little 🤏🏽

If you happen to be in a relationship/fuck buddies he’s definitely a little more caring

After you both finish hes spooning you pawing his loads back in your cunt when it begins to seep out while lying kisses and bites up you shoulder that will darken by sunrise

Or you’re on top of him your cock slightly twitching inside of him acting as a plug so none of your cum is leaving him hes definitely panting feeling so full of you you as your head rest in the crook of his neck him rubbing his palm over your head down the nape of your neck

He’ll throw the blankets over you both maybe give you some water from the water bottle that sat on his nightstand for a week

🕷️Body Part

Hobies favorite part of you isn’t a body part but your beliefs!

Everyone’s entitled to their own opinions he supports that much BUT

If you can have your own opinion and stand on it!!?

like could see the opposing sides argument take it into consideration and still go to war for your own personal value

On his knees.

He’s that one viral sound where’s its like;

“And I’ll be there for them. With open arms, open legs, and a open mouth 🙂”

Is definitely dropping to his knees to give you head in the next fifteen minutes no matter where

The wrap up of todays lesson he’s just not into shallow people

His favorite part of himself however is his hands more specifically his fingers

If he need to learn a faster tempo place for a song he’s trying to learn you’re going to be his study buddy

“You’re helpin’ me so much thanks lovie” He muttered his index and middle fingers working at a god like pace in and out of your holes beginning to work you up to three as you tried to blink the dots out of your vision moaning at a pitch

He finally got down the song <3

🕷️Cum

Anywhere on your body where he can visibly see

For my girls he’s definitely going for the boobs he’s a tittie man!

For the guys he’s still going for your chest/stomach area

Cum on his face!

Soon there will not be a drop left

hes gonna be that “I eat it all” cat meme

“Gonna c-cum on you’re pretty fucking face, you fucking s-slut” You’re groaning while he’s looking up at you with his big puppy eyes your clit bumping against his nose or when his mouth finally reaches the base of your angry cock whining against the length massaging your balls while being hard as a rock himself a puddle of pre cum resting on his abs

🕷️Dirty Secret

#1

HES A SWITCH.

Goes perfectly with the whole not believing in consistency

I can’t picture Hobie sticking to one roll anyway 💀

I will gladly die on that hill alone if I have to I don’t care.

One day he’s bending you over in a alleyway forcing your hands on a brick wall muttering about how much of a fucking whore you are for dressing in that wife beater your nipple poking through the thin fabric and getting him hard

Next day he’s pathetically humping your loafer/heel under your desk while you have a meeting on your laptop above muffling his loud whine against your leg before you feel his tears on your leg when you shrug your foot away from his aching cock ruining his orgasm

#2

Take this with a grain of salt if you please

But-

You can not sit up here and tell me him and his band members haven’t fucked at least once

This band specifically! Turn down your volume 😟

LIKE!?

that story however is for another day

#3

He has a dick piercing.

A Prince Albert one maybe?

He did it himsel

“Feel tha’ cold ‘ittle bar in your pretty ‘ole?” He would groan pressing down on your abdomen where he can feel himself bottoming out of you before thrusting in deeper than humanly possible grabbing your jaw forcing you to stare into each others soul as he fucks you deep

🕷️Experience

He’s is/was a whore depending on your relationship

He’s ran through, passed around, fucked out.

Loves when you show you’ll always be his best though

“Can’t hear you speak up whore” You hissed wrapping your hand around his neck lifting him up causing his back to arch pleasure painfully as you stop ramming into his hole causing him to whimper as you cock/strap stills in him

“No one f-fucks me like you do, please” He’s whining pathetically moaning in relief when you continue abusing his hole tears slipping past his eyes down to his cheeks

🕷️Favorite position

#1 Missionary!

It’s where either of you can get the deepest

“Look a tha’ feel me in your fuckin’ belly?” He would groan taking one of your hands pressing it against your abdomen as his cock moves in and out of you slowly hitting you spot repeatedly with your ankles crossed against his back

#2 Spooning

Has a lot of lazy mornings of when he’s waking up hard

You happened to already have the same idea 🙀

(#1 somno partaking couple)

Hobie would whimper in his sleep as he felt something warm around his cock and pressure on his lap of you backing up into him wouldn’t wake up until about the third time you’d lower down

In the mornings/where he doesn’t really have a sense on mobility or surrounding is where you’d easily pull the most noises from him

“You feel s-so good, so good birdy”

He’s cumming quick.

🕷️Goofy

Other than like a crack of a smirk?

I’m not really getting a goofy vibe from Hobie

Probably would just tease the fuck out of each other

🕷️Hair

HE HAS A HAPPY TRAIL.

His hair down there is curly and coarse he’ll trim it every once in a while but other than that doesn’t really bother

Most definitely does not give a flying fuck if you decide to shave or not

“Maybe another night ‘bee I didn’t get to shave”

And he’s just like

🤨.

≥))≥

| \_

“Your point?”

🕷️Intimacy

The thought makes him cringe internally

He can get down with it though but it’s mostly saved for important dates like anniversaries, birthdays, achievements, etc.

If you aren’t that intimate of a person that’s even better

But sometimes just take the time out to pull him aside slipping your hands down his jeans and into his boxers gently stroking his cock running your thumb over his slit whispering about how proud you are of him

“You’ve been doing so well I’m so proud of you”

DIHERHBRRIDIN he’s brain dead you murdered his brain into mush

🕷️Jack off

Will when he’s on a mission that takes longer than expected will probably take a video muttering how much he misses you while stroking his aching cock

But something else?

He can be a good boy when he wants

Put a cockring on him tell him if he lasts all day he can get a reward?

Struggling hard asf but will not touch himself cause what’s better than being your good boy!? ‼️🦅

🕷️Kink

Probably almost everything in the damn book but here are his mains

#1; Praise/Degradation

Just the right amount of both driving everyone up the wall

“Look at you takin’ my cock like a fuckin’ champ, that’s wha’ sluts do isn’t that right?” He mutters flash light kissing your skin as he records you on his phone pushing the back of your head down on his dick as you gag around the bask saliva and precum all around your mouth and cheeks

#2; Slapping/Spanking

I’m getting heavy rag doll vibes

Will purposely get you rilled up and jealous before slipping away before you can reach him essentially a game of cat and mouse

when you finally catch him you’re grabbing him by the back of his neck to a bathroom or alleyway

“You wanna be a fucking whore I’ll show you what they get” You hissed and he’s more than aroused as you pull down his trousers him thinking he was about to get the roughest railing/fingering of his life just for you to land a harsh slap on his ass!?

Rock hard.

“Please ‘m sorry, please” Would end up crying cause it hurt yet felt so good

brain was foggy asf

When you deemed it enough for now you pulled his pants back up dragging him back to whatever function you were at ignoring his subtle gestures to get you both back to his side place

You force his ass to go sit tf down somewhere 💪🏽‼️🦅

Smirking like a mf when you watch him subtly groan feeling the distance stinging pain on his ass while trying to get through the conversation

#3; Being/having a cum dump

This is kinda icky for some people and I get it so read with caution ⚠️

Not only is he going to fill you up!? He’s going to plug you up .

Will literally make you go out all day with your cum in him

If you’re a spidey?

Will have your walking around the spider society looking a bit “bloated” little does everyone know you’re literally plugged with Hobies loads

Or when you’re at home will come behind you and rub his palms over your full belly

Feral.

But sometimes he need to be check so switch the roles

How this would happen is, he would talk big shit and place a bet of who was gonna cum first when both of you had a vibrator pressed against your designated places

He lost.

Would definitely try to hit you with that “I don’t believe in loosing 🙄” shit

But

A bet is a bet

And so

For a whole 24 hours both of you having to go on a mission that day he had dildo shoved up his ass

It’s very funny seeing him slightly limp when he walks as the fake cock sits snugly in his ass kissing his prostate at any slight turn or bumb in the road or when he turns the corner too sharply while swinging

by the end of the day HES DEAD.

would definitely do it again

🕷️Location

Boobs.

🕷️Motivation

When you hype yourself up or carry yourself with confidence!?

Hobies like

🗣️ “SIGN ME TF UP!”

Gets off on it so quick

🕷️No

This might be a little controversial and me self projecting but

Do not pull his hair.

His wicks are very delicate and as POC Caribbean native/Black to be specific not a big fan when it comes to messing with our hair

Scratch his back, slap him, spank him, choke him, anything else but pulling his hair.

🕷️Oral

Oral fixation

On some rough nights where he can’t sleep!? His moth will end up on your clit/cock

Is a Cock/Pussy drinker!

Holds down your thighs when you cum and he keeps going to keep you from retreating or bucking your hips

Gives head for his own pleasure tbh

🕷️Place

EVERYWHERE

Will fuck you anywhere and everywhere grinning like the god damn chesire cat

We’re gonna get more into this in ‘Risk’

🕷️Quickie

Absolutely

Behind stage before he goes on will without a doubt have you propped up against something fingering you at an alarming rate

“Gotta make sure my fingers don’t cram up yeah?”

🕷️Risk

What we’ve all been waiting for 🙀

You’ve probably fucked all over London and New York if you’re a spidey person lmao

One of the most jaw dropping places you’ve both had sex was probably the top of an abandoned building as the sun was beginning to set

“See tha’? Almost looks as pretty as you lovie” Hobie muttered thrusting his cock into your hole as your hands grip onto the railing moaning breathlessly before he groans from behind

Then probably an alley

“Shut up before you get us caught, but you would like that wouldn’t you?” You hissed your back pressed against the cold stone wall while Hobie thrusted into you hips bucking occasionally letting out a too loud whine

If you’re a spidey you’re really just talking because your senses would guide you to when someone’s coming or not

Hobie usually is able to sense it to but he’s seems too fucked out to even care

ONCE YALL DID IT IN A POOL BATHROOM!?

“Baby we can’t there’s to many kids around here”

Hobie is the #1 🗣️ “FUCK THEM KIDS” cheerleader

Does not, will not, still can’t not seem to give a single fuc-

🕷️Sext

Yes

You have made him cut band practice short more times he cares to count

‘3 attachments 1 video’ just something to get you through until practice is over <3

IS GETTING TF ON

Coming home to you with a pep in his step

He has and will send you videos of him jerking himself off when either of you are on missions or if you’re at work

“See how fuckin’ hard I am for you birdy? Cock misses you s’much we need you” You can hear his gruff voice cracking behind the camera as he strokes his cock running his thumb over his slit

He will send you whimper audios once every blue moon

anyways both of you guys are yummy!

🕷️Toys

Yes, yes, and yes

I have plenty examples already

So we’re just going to leave this as yes

…

Tbh he has a fuckin VARIETY

Stop I need to go now 😔✋🏽

🕷️Unfair

The biggest fucking tease ever

If you can keep up with him it’s for the greater good if you can’t, you must be left to the wolves 😖

One time you came home from Work/patrol tired as ever and he was on you the minute you were in the door

“Not tonight hon I’m too tired” You muttered taking your shoes off my the door followed along by your jacket etc

“I’ll do the work you can just flop down and star fish it out” You we static at the thought

Just for this mf to deny you at least four time before you fucking lost it flipped positions shoving his face in the mattress all tiredness out the window

“Said you were gonna take fucking care of me but since you wanna be a little whore we’ll see how you like it”

It was a long night

🕷️Volume

Hobie can be very vocal when he wants Mewls, moans, cries, whimpers, whines you name it

He knows his sounds get you off but sometimes he’ll be an asshole brat and keep them from you

But you’ll fix that shit up real quick I believe in you!

🕷️Wild Card

HIM AMD HIS BAND FUCKED/FUCKS.

🕷️X ray

He’s definitely a shower!

7.5 inches 8 when he’s hard

🕷️Yes

Mark him up

Hickeys, hand prints, bruises he needs it all

Does the same for you

Especially if you’re a spidey the bruises won’t stay long with your inhuman abilities

So y’all are running back to each other when they quickly begin to fade

🕷️Zzz

Hobie thinks he’s nocturnal

He’s not sleeping on the normal night so he’s not really sleepy on a intimate one either before he met you

Only time he’s really knocked is if he was in a subier space

Which he’s commonly in

So you’re putting him to sleep one way or another

💌💌💌💌

Oh wow funny seeing you here after two weeks 😅

I have so many drafts of my baby Hobs

Anyway if you could answer the poll down below much would be appreciated!

[chelemlem]

For the prompts: 5 times Oscar takes care of Lando and 1 time Lando takes care of him Back!

ty anon! hope u don't mind that i combined 2 prompts + made it LOVE ISLAND AU ↓ (why is this 1k)

"Watch your step," their driver says sharply, half a second before Lando's loafers slip on a particularly wet patch of earth climbing out the car.

"Cheers, mate," Lando says, heart thundering. Jesus. Fine way to start off his reality T.V career. Week one and out of the running 'cause he split his head open on some fucking rocks. 

Lando extracts his fingers from around the guy's bicep. Huh, not bad. He wasn’t trying to cop a feel, but.

"Anytime."

And he’s back to squinting at something on his digital notebook. Pale and rumpled, he looks out of place in the Majorca sunshine. There's a subtle furrow between his brows, like he’s got a long list of tasks to get through, and Lando’s just the first.

"That was close," George fusses, strategically sliding an arm around Lando's shoulder in a way that both highlights their height difference and show off his delts. One of those posh Cotswold types; harmless enough. Lando'd picked him for his first date because at the end of the day, they wanted the same thing—to win.

"Yeah, scary," Lando blinks up at him. Giggles for the cameras.

 

Lando's going to quit. 

Or like. Sue someone. He stares down at his pre-packaged meal, stomach turning. This was the one thing, the one thing he listed as part of his dietary restrictions, and still—

A shadow falls across his lap.

"Here," the PA from before says. Brown hair, thighs. Oscar?

Lando eyes the unmarked takeaway box hovering in front of him with suspicion. It smells okay. And anything's better than fish.

"Chicken rice," Oscar clarifies, handing him a spoon to match. "Thai okay?"

Oh. Lando gives him a smile, small but genuine. So someone did read the profile they made him write. Who would've thought?

Oscar clears his throat. "If you need anything else, just—I'll be over there."

He hightails it to where Luisa and the other girls are holding court around the firepit, sliding his headset back on as he goes. Nice arse too. 

Crew aren't allowed to speak to the islanders, if Max’s rudimentary Reddit trawl is to be believed, but whatever. Lando's not one for rules anyway.

He tucks into his chicken rice and tries to think of other things he needs. 

"There's a new bombshell arriving today," Oscar casually lets slip at mic-up. Quietly, under his breath.

The fuck? It's only been forty-eight hours since Nyck got here. Or maybe longer—who the fuck knows with the way time passes in the villa. There's nothing to do but tan and flirt, the sun setting on the same listless, lazy day forever. Forever. 

But more importantly—

"They hotter than me?"

Oscar's face does this put-upon little thing before sliding back to neutral. Instead of responding, he winds the mic pack around Lando's waist, bending down to secure it at his hips. 

Lando knows how to do it himself by now. Oscar knows Lando knows.

"By a fair bit, I reckon," he says finally, and escapes before Lando can call him a liar. 

"Also, you've got a terrible poker face. At least pretend to be touched when he surprises you with breakfast." 

"He made me eggs and toast, mate. Not exactly Michelin-star, is it?" Or chicken rice, for that matter.

Oscar sighs. "Next week's vote's going to the public. Just so you know."

Lando's not worried. He's survived this long—longer than Daniel, even, who won fan favourite, week two—so clearly there's something he's doing right.

He sort of wants out, anyway. He misses his phone. God, he misses sex. Everyone talks a big game, but when it actually comes down to it they're fucking, like, shy about doing it in front of the cameras. And the cameras are bleeding everywhere. Lando would know.

The only reprieve, or something like it, is—Oscar. 

He's not exactly forthcoming with chatter, but through the power of being cute and annoying, Lando learns a lot about him anyway. 

Like how he's a fan of the cricket. And he's got three sisters, none of whom give a fuck about the show. And how apparently being a former cub scout makes him some kind of authority on tying people up. 

"Just saying those knots seemed loose, is all." 

Lando feels a smirk coming on. "Watching, were you?" 

Oscar rolls his eyes. "I review the Hideaway footage to make sure it's fit for broadcast, yes."

"Kinky."

"Good job. Really defended my honour there." 

"Fuck off," Oscar says, surprisingly calm for someone with bruises trawling the side of their face.

"Dunno why you thought you could take him. He's got like two stone and six centimetres on you. And Charles heard he's done amateur boxing—"

"Got one decent one in there, at least?"

"Element of surprise, s'all it was."

Lando gives up with the bandages. He has no idea what he's doing—and his hands are shaking too much to be of any real use. Best leave it to medical.

"Oscar," he says, rubbing his eyes. His thumb comes away damp. Christ, this better not end up on telly. "The fuck were you thinking, mate." 

Oscar exhales long and hard. His voice is softer when he says: "Sorry. Wasn't really… thinking."

Lando punches his arm lightly—the good one.

"Next time, just. Ask me out normally, alright?"

"They're not firing me," Oscar's voice sounds stunned through the phone, coloured with relief. It's the most emotion Lando's ever heard out of him. Well, second most. "Did you—?"

"My agent said me and Carlos can call it quits two months after the finale," Lando interrupts. It's important, after all.

There's quiet over the line. He can hear Oscar breathing. In out, in out. 

"And what did you say?"

Lando leans forward, against the dash of his borrowed McLaren. The one he's being paid to drive around in, posting selfies with wine and roses in the passenger's. 

Runner's up is first loser and all that, but. It's still a pretty good deal.

"Told her I'll do two weeks." 

[nevernonline]

✧.* crash into me; lsm one shot.

A one shot based off what transpired before these texts.

✧ Synopsis: Lee Dokyeom was your closest friend. After a friendly dinner you head back to his apartment, to play a game little did you know it would crash the friendship barrier between you two.

✧ genre/s: fluffy, friends to who knows?, 

✧ warning/s: suggested smut, suggestive humor and theme, kisses, lots of hands, some light drinking. 

Sitting at your favorite table awaiting the arrival of your best friend Seokmin, felt like a lifetime. It was a Friday night so of course the line was accumulating outside the restaurant and the patriots were waiting for your seat where you selfishly look like you’re taking up a table for you and your seltzer water. 

Through the large glass windows waiting at the cross walk you spot him looking for a chance to jaywalk across the street safely and sprint breathlessly to your side. 

As Ola, you and Seokmin’s favorite waitress brings him to the table alongside your cocktail orders, you can feel at peace again. That’s what he was to you, peace. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I got stuck helping someone with a task just as I was ready to leave. I feel so bad.” 

The brown haired boy now stripped of his denim jacket, resembling a puppy now flipping through the menu as if he wasn’t sure what to order. 

“It’s okay, seriously. I just mainly feel bad because all of those couples outside were starting to give me the stink eye. Also, I already ordered for you, why are you looking at the menu?” 

“You’re so right, I don’t know. I’m really flustered for some reason.” 

You slide his gin and tonic closer to him. 

“Drink this, please. You’re going to pop a forehead vein if you don’t settle down, Seok.” 

“You are right, for the second time. Maybe you should take up gambling.” 

As his breaths get back to normal, he takes another look at you. Your hair was up off your neck elegantly, a cream colored blouse with brown trousers, and the loafers he bought you for your birthday last year on your feet. He noticed you wore makeup today, a rare occasion for you since you didn’t need it. 

“Why do you look so beautiful today?” 

The words just escaped his mouth like word vomit, he couldn’t help but tell you. 

“Do I not look like this everyday?” 

He leans back in his chair to get a better look at you, sizing you up again. 

“No, something is different. Not that you don’t look beautiful all the time, but something is standing out to me..” 

You raised your hand from your side of the table to rest on top of his. 

“Seok, you’re rambling again.”  

His long fingers enclosed around yours as he held onto it a moment longer than normal. 

“No, I’m just trying to get my point across. I’m doing a bad job of it, but you are really beautiful. Got it?” 

A blush rose to your cheeks as your hand found its way back to the now sweaty glass and finished off the liquor inside. 

“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.” 

 His megawatt smile flashed itself your way and you continued to enjoy your meal without any more of Seokmins semi-sober ranting. 

┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄ ︰ ┄┄┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄ ︰ ┄┄┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄

“GOD, I am so fucking full. That was amazing.” 

You giggled slamming the front door shut behind you, making your way into Seokmin’s apartment. 

“You know it’s extra good when I can sleep on your shoulder the whole bus ride without you smacking me.” 

“Seok, I do not.” 

“Uh, yeah you do, you're like some little old woman.” 

Suddenly a t-shirt hit your lap, coming from the entryway of Seokmin’s bedroom door. 

“I figured you’d want to wear that to sleep, I’m not letting you leave here alone when you’ve been drinking.” 

Your head turns slightly to your right to reply, but your eyes caught a glimpse of Seokmin in only his boxers changing into his own sleep shirt. It’s not wrong to stare at your best friend, right? 

“Do you want to watch a movie or play a game, maybe have wine?” 

His voice grew closer as you were still stuck staring at him. 

“Uh, can we do all of the above?” 

“Yes. Hurry up and go get changed, dummy.” 

You’re now standing in the same spot Seokmin was moments before, not at all baiting him to glance your way, but for some reason you couldn’t help yourself. With your back turned to him it’s impossible to see if he’s actively watching you, but you can tell by his sudden silence that he just might be. 

“Okay, so what shall we do first?” 

Sitting down next to him now matching his own outfit, underwear and his t-shirts.  

“I say we put on some music and play that funny truth or drink game you made me for a gift a few years back.” 

“Only if you want to die tonight, you NEVER answer any of the questions unless it’s like ‘golden retrievers or huskies?’”

Seokmin slapped your arm, removing himself from the floor to hunt down the laminated pieces of paper. 

“Okay, well how about we only get three chances to plead the fifth, any other question you have to answer or you have to drink.” 

Your eyes roll watching him move swiftly through his home, now grabbing a freshly opened bottle of red wine. 

“Plus it's only wine so we can cap it off at one bottle otherwise I do have opened tequila.” 

“Seok, do you not remember what happened the last time I had too much tequila?” 

“Sort of. I was equally as drunk as you if not more, all I remember is you’re  clingy as hell.” 

Taking the space across the coffee table from you, he placed the stack of questions down, and poured half of the red liquid in two coffee mugs. 

“Ladies first.” 

His eyes crinkled on the side as he smiled, waiting for you to read the first interrogating question. 

“Okay,” A laugh escaped your lips before reading out loud. “What’s the shortest amount of time you’ve known someone before hooking up?” 

“Oh come on, you can answer that it’s easy.” 

“Hm, I really was a little crazy when I first went to college. I’d have to say maybe a half hour?” 

Seokmin just nodded, nothing about that was too crazy. He knew about your freshman year of college. 

“Alright, Seoky. Saddle up.” 

You giggled, taking a sip of your wine out of turn, watching the face of the other player turn red. 

“What’s your most embarrassing fantasy?” 

He flirts with the idea of answering that most of his recent fantasies have involved you, but instead he takes a swig of his drink. 

“Oh come on. You’re no fun. Pick another card, Seok.” 

“That’s not how this game is played, you go.” 

“What’s the most embarrassing time you got turned on?” 

You stretched your head thinking you should confess to your friend that watching him change earlier brought on some sort of fever, but decided against it. 

“Actually, this is embarrassing. But, do you remember my friend Jeonghan from college?” 

“Yeah, of course. Tall, blonde, and gorgeous guy.” 

“Well one time we were studying for a biology exam and the AC in the library was broken, so it was ridiculously hot. We were both sweating a bit, but he was wearing a sweatshirt and I fought and fought him to remove it so he could be more comfortable. Like, it was clearly distracting him. But, he told me he didn’t have a t- shirt to wear underneath.” 

As your story continued Seokmin felt himself catching a wave of jealousy. 

“Lucky for him, I did have my gym bag for later. So I lent my workout top to wear. When he came back from the bathroom he was in a white crop top and for some reason I got so turned on by him wearing my clothes and studying. Like when he burst into the room I swear I almost fucked him right there.” 

“So you got turned on by a guy wearing your clothes? You’re such a typical man, Y/N.” 

“Hey, shut the fuck up. Men wish they were like me.” 

Seokmin’s face now hotter than ever reached back into the pile. 

“What’s the dirtiest text you’ve ever sent?” 

He tried to think of anything even remotely scandalous he could tell you, but came up flat and a little embarrassed. 

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever sexted in my life.” 

“There’s no way you haven’t.” 

“No, I’m serious. The only girl I really dated long term used to try to send me stuff like ‘oh i want you so bad, Seokmin.’ or ‘I wish you’d come over to take care of my problem.’ But I was oblivious and would just respond with things like ‘Well you already have me.’ and ‘What’s wrong?’ I promise I’ve never sexted or even tried too, I would be awful at it. I can barely flirt and make it obvious.” 

“She was trying to get you to fuck her and you thought she had an actual problem?” 

“Yeah, I’ve never been good at flirting.” 

As you laugh at his innocent mistake, and continue to drink your wine you come up with an idea. 

“Okay, let’s practice.” 

“Practice what?” 

“Flirting, like we can roleplay you flirting with me right now, let’s go.” 

“Are you serious?” 

You patted the floor on your side of the glass table trying to get him closer to you. 

“Deadly, now come on.” 

He still didn’t move, so you pushed yourself off his carpeted floor and sat facing him at his side, finally turning to you, you noticed how nervous he seemed. 

“Look, it’s just me. Nothing bad can come out of it.” 

“How do we even start doing this?” 

“Hmm, here scooch is a little closer to me. Just tell me a line.” 

“Okay.” 

Seokmin placed his warm hands on your criss-crossed knees and looked deeply at you, almost into your soul. Your stomach fluttered at the closeness, even though touching for the both of you wasn’t unusual. 

“Hey, baby. I -” 

You cut him off blissful with laughter, nearly spitting your sip of wine onto his white t-shirt. 

“Oh, come on. I wasn’t that bad was I?” 

Dialing it back slightly, your now crying eyes and painful belly, just shook your head. 

“Why were you so serious? Like be yourself, come on.” 

“Let’s just stop. I can't do this, it's too embarrassing.” 

“Fine, here. I’ll teach you.” 

You stood up now, gesturing to him to follow. When he does, you hand him his mug and give him a little nod. Walking over to the knob for the lights to be more dim, only the sound of your feet and the soft party playlist lingering in the background, you strutted back over to him.  

“Hi.” 

“Hey.” 

Your free hand snaked its way up to his shoulder as you gave it a little squeeze indicating you’re going to start now. 

“So, I was over there.” Your hands gesturing to the very bedroom you watched him changing in earlier. “And, I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re really hot.”

“You do?” 

As you nodded, his eyes followed the traces of your exposed neck all the way down to your bare legs. 

“Do you want to dance with me?” 

A question a little silly for you two just being in his apartment, but anything to make him more comfortable without having to talk. 

Seokmin took back both of your mugs and placed them down onto the table, wrapping his hands tightly around your lower back as yours reached into his hair and laid your head down onto his shoulder. 

As you swayed looking out the window to the sparkling cityscape you felt him pull away slightly from you. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

A simple question. 

“How badly I want to kiss you.” 

The words left his mouth with honesty. 

“See that’s a good line.” 

“It’s not a line, I just really want to kiss you.” 

Your head came up off of his shoulder to search his eyes. 

“I, uh. You do?” 

Suddenly you were the one rambling, finally not in the dominant position. 

He just nodded, leaning down to your wine stained lips and planted a kiss as light as a feather on your face, just missing the target. 

You now rolling your eyes dug your fingers deeper into his brown locks and crashed into him. 

The two of you still swaying your bodies to the song started to go deeper into each other, kissing more rapidly now. 

When he stopped for a minute to lift you into his arms, Seokmin’s lips reached the spot on your neck that was just sensitive enough to have a moan breathe out. 

No words were exchanged as he laid you down on his perfectly made bed and continued exploring you, not until it was over did he mutter something that he often says to you, but it had a different meaning now. 

“I love you.” 

[greyeyedmonster-18]

best day

(For @goodboylupin’s Candy Hearts Challenge. My candy heart prompt was "best day". thank you for hosting this mini-fest once again.)

Days are bad. Life is hard. Love is the easiest thing in the world.

-

It was raining outside, wind howling through the cracks of the windows, rattling the pipes outside of Remus and Sirius's flat. Remus was wishing right about then he hadn't insisted on paying part of the rent. Maybe then they would be tucked away in some lavish home in London; someplace where they didn't have to shut the windows with such force and didn't seem to be swaying with the wind.

He knew it was going to be a bad day the moment he rolled out of bed and heard the sound of the steady rain. Because his joints ached, and his hands were stiff. Because he was going to be one of those idiots outside in this weather--the kind everyone pointed at from their car windows, snickering behind their palms--holding fast to a withering umbrella, hoping he didn't get blown away with everything. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have bothered leaving their flat on days like this. Ordinarily, he would have made himself comfortable on the armchair they had found at some woman's estate sale, that had stains on the arm from too many nights with wine and mornings with cups of coffee and not moved a single muscle.

Waving his wand to do the simplest tasks and asking Sirius to do the others.

But today he had an interview at the Ministry, which required a lot more than a wand wave. Moving.

Remus sighed as he rummaged through his closet, pushing past worn t-shirts that Sirius insisted be hung up to find his slightly less worn button-downs. He pulled a pale green one off the hanger. No holes. No stains. It would do.

Brown trousers and a fraying belt that had survived both sixth and seventh year. He was overdue for a replacement, but when did he wear belts? For interviews, almost exclusively. Maybe once he got a job. If? He got a job. Blame it on wartime, blame it on the weather, blame it on himself, the market had been bleak. The prospects had been bleaker. Hogwarts certainly hadn’t advertised how difficult it would be to find any type of job let alone something he could actually find himself doing in the long term or had any interest in. It was all well and good to “Join the Order!” and “Fight the Good Fight!”, which Remus had been doing (whether he was doing it particularly well was another story) when you didn’t have to worry about working or making money to support yourself.

James and Sirius had both offered.

Remus always said no.

Even if right now, as he pulled a navy sweater over his collared shirt, he was wishing he had said “yes”.

Remus was wishing a lot of things.

He sat on the bed, unrolling a pair of mustard-colored socks to put on his feet.

The toe gave way. How long had he had these socks? Had they been his Dads?

Remus stared down at his big toe, poking through the top of his sock, the rest of his toes safely tucked inside.

“Well, this seems about right,” he muttered to himself, putting on his other sock before slapping his hands to his thighs and forcing himself out of the bed again.

Brushed his teeth.

A hair on the top of his head wouldn’t lie flat.

He sniffed a bottle of hair potion Sirius had in the cabinet, contemplating taking his chances, but decided better of it. Brown loafers. Remus’s bare toe wiggled inside the material. Somehow already sweating.

“Sirius?” Remus called, lingering in the threshold, realizing the flat was quiet. There was no singing; bread wasn’t baking; it wasn’t the weather for Sirius to be outside tinkering with his bike. “Sirius?” he tried again.

He ignored the sinking feeling in his chest. It was early, maybe he had just stepped out to the shops. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Remus inhaled and reached for the door handle, the wind blowing it open. At least he could wave his wand for an umbrella.

--

The day got worse from there.

Before Remus could make it to the underground, a car rushed by, splashing his pants with mud and water. Loafers soaked, and it seemed pointless to keep drying them off. A spell wasn’t going to be able to fix the sweat under his arms, or his heart that only seemed to beat faster and faster, a racehorse trying its fucking best and going nowhere, as he got closer to the front desk of the Ministry to check in for his interview.

His shoes squeaked down the hallway; his toe poking through his sock, squelching and squirming.

His voice cracked through every answer—for a job he was certain he could and would do in his sleep. Filing for fucks sake! Putting things in drawers and sitting around waiting for more papers to go into drawers or be sent to the owlery and Remus couldn’t answer a single question without clearing his throat or sounding like he was en route to a second puberty.

He didn’t bother with the umbrella on the way home, letting rain soak through his clothes, drip down his face. At least the hair on his head was now flat.

Remus sighed as he walked in through his front door, beyond defeated, dropping his soaked RJ LUPIN briefcase on the floor with a thud.

“Is that you, Remus?”

“Who else would it be?” Remus shot back, rougher than perhaps warranted.

“The Queen. Invited her over for tea,” Sirius responded as he turned the corner, stopping in front of Remus and smile fading as he took in the sight before him. Remus returned with a weak jazz hand and a feeble grin. Ta-fucking-da. “Trying out a new look, are we?”

“Where were you?”

“When?”

“I don’t know, Sirius,” Remus said, shrugging off his jacket and letting it fall to the floor, “This morning?” This month?“I went—”

“In the pouring rain?”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“Forget it.”

Sirius’s eyebrows were a straight line above his hooded eyes, and he opened his mouth to speak again, pick the fight Remus wanted him to. The wind groaned outside, Remus feeling like the flat was swaying and Sirius looked over his shoulder, breaking the irritated eye contact he had with Remus to make sure the “living room” windows were still holding fast.

Remus peeled off his stuck loafers, that probably needed to go straight to the bin. The hole in his sock was bigger now, his second toe trying to come to the surface for air. Sirius turned back around to face Remus, slowly scanning the pile of wet clothes, the umbrella that wasn’t used. The hole in his sock. A body that was a breath away from giving up hope and strength to keep him standing on two feet.

“Have you eaten?”

“I’m not particularly hungry.”

“But I have an idea.”

“For dinner?”

“No,” Sirius said with a slow grin, grey eyes turning up slightly, and he inclined his head toward the bedroom, “Sort of.”

“Sirius.” But Sirius just grabbed Remus’s hand and pulled him down the hallway through the door of their room. One by one Sirius slowly took off Remus’s soaked clothes, folding everything as Remus stood there near the bed. Too curious for what was going to happen next to want to continue a fight that neither of them wanted to have. But it was a hell of a lot easier than being afraid. Remus held his arms above his head, for Sirius to take off his sweater; watched deft fingers undo every single button on his nice shirt. Watched as Sirius took off his own clothing until they were both in their underwear. Remus swallowed and brought his hand up to push a long dark curl out of Sirius’s face, safely behind his ear.

“I think we need a redo,” Sirius said, putting his both of his hands around Remus’s waist, pulling him closer.

“A redo?”

“Of today. Fresh. Never happened.”

“What are you—”

“Shh, shh,” Sirius hushed him with a kiss to his mouth before pushing him backward onto the bed. Sirius made quick work of throwing the blanket over the top of them. Positioning Remus’s hand around his waist, and Sirius flicked his wrist, to turn the lights off. “Good night.”

“Are you out of your mind—”

“Remus I’m trying to sleep. Don’t you have a job interview tomorrow? You should really get some rest.”

“I—”

Sirius feigned a snore, and Remus fell silent, kissing the back of Sirius’s neck before getting comfortable underneath the blanket, resting his nose along Sirius’s shoulder the same way he did every night to fall asleep. It was probably only five minutes, maybe less, but when the sound of birds chirping magically filled the room, and gold and orange light appeared on the ceiling, Remus couldn’t help but feel restored.

Rejuvenated.

A brand-new day.

Sirius yawned and stretched. They took their time getting out from underneath the covers, throwing on sweatpants and old t-shirts. Toothpaste kisses in the bathroom, with matching foam goatees. A shower that was going to add some trouble to the water bill, but the steam, and the hands and the fancy bath soap Sirius liked pushed every worrying thought out of Remus’s mind.

A record played as they walked down the hallway into the kitchen, Sirius going to the cabinets and pulling out flour, while Remus went to the coffee machine.

“Fancy a Dutch Baby?” Sirius asked.

“Have you ever made one before?”

“No, but I do know how to read instructions.”

“Can you follow them though?”

“Where is the fun in that,” Sirius grinned, reaching for a recipe book on top of the fridge that had been a gift from Mrs. Potter, “If I recall, there’s one in here…”

The sun was getting close to setting outside. It was dark and gloomy, and the rain was determined to keep beating down on the pavement and windowpanes. Inside it was warm, sunlight radiating off of a boy with dark hair and big heart.

“Sirius, hey—”

“Forget about it,” Sirius said, “Don’t…think on it for another second, alright? Let’s…just have a good day. The best day even.”

A good day. They needed more of those.

Remus paused, before closing the lid of the coffee maker, “I love you.”

“Love you too, Moons. Now—remind me how the oven warms up,” Sirius said, gesturing to the stove and oven combination in their tiny kitchen. Remus shook his head and pressed a kissed to Sirius’s lips. Soft. Sighing. He looked down at his feet.

His socks were still on—Sirius hadn’t taken those off when the day restarted. The seam was intact.

[4littlefishies]

The Eighth of September - Finish What You Started

satoru gojo x suguru geto

warnings: smut :3

wc: 9.8k

previous chapter here!

note: I know some people are really particular about their ships and t/b dynamics and im gonna say i reaaaally don't care about all that, but if it goes against your entire life and being for Suguru to be a bottom... maybe skip this chapter. SORRY that I have to say it but if you're on anitwt at all, you know what im talking about and unfortunately I feel like I have to give that disclaimer

If you don't care then thank you for being here, I just want them together, pls enjoy some pathetic top Satoru 😌

Through their starter and the first course at dinner, Satoru was dead set on trying to convince Suguru to finally give him his highly anticipated birthday present. Their small square table sits right next to the window, giving them a perfect view of the city skyline. A thick blanket of clouds covers the night sky, easily hiding the moon and the stars, but other than that, the view is clear all around for miles. The Tokyo Skytree is visible in the near distance, poking up far past the shorter buildings surrounding it and standing out without issue against the dark, cloudy night sky.

“Is it a watch? Ooh, or is it the keys to a new car?” Satoru makes a number of absolutely outlandish guesses, one after the other as they wait for the waiter to come back with their second course.

“Satoru, you don’t even have your license, why would it be a car?” Suguru asks with a confused look on his face. He picks up the wine glass that sits to the side of his place setting and sips on the Merlot he picked out before setting it back down.

Satoru returns his look with a sour one. “Sugu, if you got me a car, maybe I would get my license.” 

“Well you don’t have to worry about that because, sorry to burst your bubble, but it’s not a car.” Suguru says flatly.

Satoru takes an excited breath, coming up with yet another guess, but Suguru cuts him off. “Is it a-”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough.” Suguru says, holding up his hands with a smile to try to calm his overly excited husband. “I think you’re hyping this up in your head way more than you should be.” He reaches under his side of the table to pick up the small black bag that he had successfully hidden from Satoru up until they got into the elevator together. He didn’t even stand a chance, the black bag sticking out like a sore thumb against the warm brown of his pants and matching jacket in the mirrored elevator walls. Under the light chestnut brown french suit he wore a white button up and a simple gold chain, along with a few rings to go along with it; his hair in his signature half up half down look with pieces of his bangs sticking perfectly out. Satoru wears a pale brown knit polo sweater along with high waist trousers and dark brown loafers and a matching belt to tie it all together. The browns of their two outfits complimented each other beautifully, the warm colors matching and going together flawlessly like two pieces of a puzzle.

That’s when the guessing game started and he knew for certain that it wouldn’t end until he let Satoru unwrap his gift. He picks up the small bag that sits by his feet and hands it across the table to the white-haired menace that he proudly called his husband. Satoru reaches out to grab it from him with a beaming smile on his face.

He shakes the bag slightly, trying to guess what’s inside one last time. Suguru smiles as he shakes his head with a slight eye roll and takes another sip of his wine. “Just open it already.” He grows more and more impatient as Satoru thinks about what it could be.

“Okay, okay. Patience, Suguru.” Satoru pulls out a couple pieces of tissue paper, crumpling up and setting them aside before pulling out a black box about the size of the palm of his hand. Immediately, the white Chanel logo stands out against the matte black of the box

“You’re one to talk.” Suguru says from behind his glass with a slight smirk.

“Oh hush.” Satoru says playfully, his nose scrunching as he pops open the box. Smiles play on both of their lips as he pulls the small velvet bag out. “Chanel, huh?” Satoru raises his eyebrows teasingly as he sets the box aside. Suguru looks back across the table at him with a patient smile as he rests his chin in the palm of his hand, excited to see him open it and see what’s inside. “I see I’ve trained you well.” His cocky response is enough to evoke yet another eye roll from Suguru.

“Are you implying that I needed training?”

“I don’t know, Sugu. You didn’t have any nice jewelry until we got together, did you?” Satoru teases, holding onto the small bag and looking across the table with a smirk.

“Just open the damn bag, will you?” Suguru says with a light chuckle as he’s quickly growing impatient. Satoru smiles as he opens the bag to see a necklace. It’s a simple box chain made of white gold. It didn’t look like much, but that’s what Suguru knew Satoru liked; simple and quiet elegance, nothing too flashy that would stand out. 

“Suguru, I love this.” He says, the chain dangling from his hand as he holds it up to get a better look. It shares a striking resemblance to the gold chain around Suguru’s neck that Satoru loved.

“It’s not too boring?” Suguru is slightly worried as he asks, his brows slightly furrowed while he watches Satoru’s reactions to the chain. He had done plenty of research to find one that he was pretty sure Satoru would like. Although it cost him quite a pretty penny, he knew that it would last a long time and that he would really appreciate it. 

“Absolutely not! It’s perfect. Not too out there and gaudy, ya know?” He smiles as he admires it. There was no particular way of knowing that it was an expensive piece of jewelry, but that’s what he liked about it. He knew that it was a nice chain, but it looked simple enough to go with anything. He tries to slip it over his head, but it quickly gets stuck just before his nose. They both chuckle at his attempt before he takes it back off. “Will you help me put it on?”

They both know he’s fully capable of doing it himself, but will take any opportunity to have something done for him. Suguru stands up and rounds the corner of the table, happy to help. He carefully takes the chain from his hands and unclasps it, putting it over Satoru’s head and bringing the ends back together behind his neck. He clasps them together and puts his hands on his shoulders before leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before hurrying back to his seat. “It looks perfect.”

Looking down at it from his point of view, Satoru smiles at the way it looks against his pale skin. “You picked a good one, Roo.” 

“I really did, didn’t I?” Suguru responds, but he’s talking about an entirely different thing as he stares at his husband, hearts practically floating around his head as his chin rests in the palm of his hand. The nearly empty wine glass in front of him was reason enough, the alcohol almost making him want to jump across the table at Satoru and bend him right over the edge of it. He pushes the image of it to the back of his head as Satoru smiles back at him. He puts the velvet bag back into the box and the box back into the bag before setting it down underneath the table just in time for the waiter to bring their second course out.

“Ooh,” Satoru coos as he looks at the dish in front of him. The waiter picks up the bottle of wine from where it sits and refills Suguru’s glass. He glances at Satoru’s still full glass before setting it back down with a polite smile. 

“Can I get you anything else while I’m here?”

Satoru grins softly up at him, having been waiting for him to come back so he could ask for another drink. “Could I get another one of these?” He asks, tapping on the rim of his empty glass.

“Of course, a Shirley Temple, right?” He asks, grabbing the empty glass from where it sits on the pristine white tablecloth.

“With extra grenadine and an extra cherry,” Satoru says, nodding his head with a smile so wide his eyes are nearly squeezed shut. Suguru tries to hide his smile behind his wine glass as the waiter stumbles over himself, probably never having heard such a request, let alone from a full grown adult.

“Uh- yes sir. Absolutely, I’ll be right back.” He says, bowing his head politely before heading back off in the direction he came from.

“What’s so funny over there, huh?” Satoru asks with narrowed eyes, seeing Suguru’s smile despite the way he tries to hide it.

“I just think it’s a little funny that you’re 30 years old and ordering a drink like that at a restaurant like this.” He takes one more sip of his newly refilled wine glass and sets it back down, taking a look at the dish in front of him. 

Satoru picks up his fork and takes his first bite, humming happily at the way the fish melts in his mouth. “Don’t you worry,” He says, swallowing the bite, “I’ll be 70 and still ordering it.” 

Suguru shakes his head with a smile at the thought of a 70-year-old Satoru, 40 years in the future still ordering a drink that’s mainly meant for children. They continue eating, going through six different courses, including dessert until they’re ready to head back to their room.

Satoru grabs onto Suguru’s hand as he all but drags him out of the restaurant as soon as they’re done, the small gift bag swinging in his other hand. “Satoru, slow down!” He says with a laugh as they make it back to the elevators.

“I want my birthday cake!” Satoru says, looking back at his husband with raised eyebrows. “I’ve been thinking about it all day and if I don’t get a piece in the next two minutes, I might explode.” 

“Well if you’re going to explode, don’t do it in the room, that sounds like an expensive cleanup.” Suguru jokes as they step into the elevator to head back down to the 33rd floor. 

“As expensive as the necklace?” He asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“Baby, I told you that I’m not telling you how much it was.” Suguru says, resting his hand on Satoru’s lower back as the doors close, holding him close.

“I’m just gonna google it as soon as you go to work on Monday.” Satoru says in a teasing, singsong voice, trying to convince him to tell him how much he spent on the chain. He leans against Suguru, looking at him with a smile.

“Can’t you just let me do something nice for you?” 

“Obviously,” He says with a cheeky smirk, “But I wanna know how much that nice thing cost.” Suguru shakes his head as the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open. They both step out and head down the hallway towards their room, Suguru still resting his hand on Satoru’s back as they walk. “Suguru, we’re married, I think I deserve to know.” His tone is whiny as he pleads.

Suguru opens the door and they both step inside the room, shutting and locking the door behind them. “Okay,” He starts, the smirk apparent in his voice. Satoru perks up, excited to hear what he has to say, “Here’s a proposition for you.”

“I’m listening.” Satoru says as he yanks off his belt and tosses it next to their bag on the floor.

Suguru slips his jacket off and drapes it over his arm. “If you want me to tell you,” He steps closer, closing the gap between the two of them, “then the only one getting fucked tonight is going to be you.” He pokes his finger firmly in between Satoru’s pecs, right in the middle of his chest. He’s slightly taken aback hearing Suguru’s proposal. His mouth hangs slightly ajar with a faint smile as he stands there, weighing both options in his mind.

Suguru tosses his jacket over the end of the still made bed. “I can’t believe you’re really contemplating it this hard.” He says, taking a step back and starting to unbutton the top of his shirt but stopping halfway down. 

“It’s a tough decision!”

“What happened to just googling it later?” Suguru mumbles to himself, going to sit down in one of the chairs at the small table. He slips off the few rings on his fingers as well as his watch and sets them down on the table, leaving only his wedding band on his left hand.

“Do you want a piece of cake?” Satoru asks, opening up the fridge and pulling out the mid-sized box that housed the birthday cake that he had picked out. 

“Can I just have a bite of yours?” Suguru asks the question even though he’s sure that he already knows the answer. Satoru turns around and looks at him with narrowed eyes, closing the mini fridge door with his foot, affirming his suspicion. 

“Very funny Sugu.” He says, bringing the box over to the table. Suguru smiles up at him, resting with his chin in his palm as he eyes him. The two glasses of wine have him feeling warm and fuzzy as he looks his husband up and down. “Stop looking at me like that, it’s time for cake.” Satoru says as he stands next to him at the edge of the table. Suguru smirks and lets his hand rest itself on his lower back once again as he pulls the tabs to carefully open the box. Satoru doesn’t even have the box all the way open before Suguru’s hand is already migrating downwards, earning a few tongue clicks and a quick glance from him.

“What?” Suguru asks, his hand grazing back and forth over the curve of his husband’s ass.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.” Satoru says with a smirk, focusing as he presses the flimsy plastic knife down into the cake.

“What is it that I’m trying to do, exactly, sweetheart?” Suguru asks, the words rolling out of his mouth as sweet as can be. He knows that he can use the nickname to butter Satoru up, so of course he uses it to his advantage.

Trying not to melt into a puddle at the way his husband speaks to him, Satoru moves his focus from the cake over to him. “Stop trying to take advantage of me.” His voice is teasing as he says it. He focuses back on cutting his cake as Suguru lets out a sort of snort at his sentence.

“Take advantage of you? Baby, I’m the one that had two glasses of wine at dinner.” He says with a smile on his face. His cheeks are a rosy pink as he looks lovingly up at Satoru. “I may be a little bit tipsy, but I know you had nothing more than a few too many Shirley Temples.” 

“Four is not too many.” He pulls the knife out of the cake and licks it clean before setting it aside. Suguru watches the way his tongue comes out of his mouth to lick the frosting off of both sides and swallows thickly. He takes a deep breath in through his nose and pats Satoru’s ass lightly before dropping his hand and leaning back in the chair, clasping his hands over his stomach and letting his knees fall open. 

“Wait until I’ve had my cake and then I’ll fuck you, okay?” Satoru remarks, shaking his head at Suguru as he flops his piece onto one of the small plates the patisserie had given them with the cake.

“So you’ve decided?” Suguru tilts his head to the side with a smirk. Satoru rolls his eyes and sticks his finger in his mouth to get the small bit of frosting off. The warmth spreads throughout Suguru’s body as he watches him quickly clean his finger off. There wasn’t anything inherently sexual about the way he did it, but of course the alcohol in his system made him see otherwise. He smiles at the way Satoru looks down at him from where he stands, looking like he’s waiting for something. “What?”

“Aren’t you gonna sing to me? It’s still my birthday, Gugu.” Satoru says with raised brows.

Suguru smiles, reaching up to grab Satoru’s waist and pull him down to sit in his lap. He presses a kiss to his cheek, earning a bright smile from Satoru in response before he starts singing quietly. Satoru wraps his arm around the back of Suguru’s neck, holding him close as he sings Happy Birthday to him. “Sorry we don’t have any candles, but I think you’re still allowed to make a wish. I sang the song and everything.” 

Satoru chuckles lightly and pretends to blow out candles that don't exist. He picks up the plastic fork and stabs it into the point of the slice before picking up the first bite and sticking it into his mouth. “Mmm,” He hums at the taste, “Are you sure you don’t want a piece?” He asks, turning to look down at Suguru. The way he’s sitting, his legs are perpendicular to Suguru’s with one arm around the back of his neck, the other holding his fork for the cake.

“Can I really not just have one bite of yours?” Suguru tries again, pressing his lips together at the feeling of Satoru shifting his weight around on his lap. “Just a small one?” He runs his hand tenderly up and down Satoru’s lower back, his fingers tracing abstract lines and shapes all over as he tries to distract himself from the way he’s somehow perfectly situated on his dick to make it nearly impossible to keep from getting hard.

Satoru turns his head back to look at him with furrowed brows and a slight frown before picking up another bite. “You’re lucky I love you.” He says, holding the fork to Suguru’s mouth for him to take the bite. Suguru smiles before he opens his mouth and takes the bite of fluffy cake.

He chews it and quickly swallows, admiring the not so familiar taste of the raspberry filling in between the white cake. “I know.” In fact, he felt like the luckiest man alive knowing that Satoru loved him. Sometimes he would really think about it and was unable to wrap his head around how much he loved him and how insane it seemed that his husband loved him back just as much. 

“It’s good, huh?” Satoru asks as he takes another bite. Suguru nods his head with a smile before turning his head and pressing a kiss to Satoru’s hand that rests on his shoulder. He smiles at the feeling of Suguru’s lips against the back of his hand as he eats his cake. “I think we’re gonna need to get one of these more often.” He points out as he takes the last few bites of his birthday cake and finishes off the little bit of frosting left on the plate.

Suguru can’t do anything but look up at his husband, admiring every detail of his face; the way his nose curves ever so slightly at the tip, how his jaw looks so kissable, the skin of his neck so biteable. He presses his lips together as Satoru adjusts the way he’s sitting once again. Now that he’s done with his cake and his other hand is free, Suguru grabs ahold of it and wraps it around the back of his own neck. “What did you wish for?” He asks quietly, looking up into the sapphires that he was so used to with a tender smile.

“You know I can’t tell you that.” Satoru says with a soft smirk, his voice just as quiet as Suguru’s. He leans his head toward Suguru’s and presses their lips together. Smiles sit on both of their lips as they kiss. “I can feel that.” Satoru teases in a whisper against Suguru’s lips with a playful smirk, feeling as he quickly grows harder underneath him.

“I know you can.” Suguru whispers back, not even bothering to open his eyes as he brings his hand up to the back of Satoru’s head. He lets his fingers brush up against the stiff hairs of his snowy undercut and weave into the longer pieces towards the top before pulling Satoru back to him, pressing their lips together like it was the only thing he needed. Satoru lets out a slight moan into his mouth as he feels the way his fingers grip on his hair.

“Mmm,” Satoru hums against Suguru’s lips as he slowly grinds his hips down, trying to arouse him even further. He can taste the lingering taste of the velvety Merlot in his mouth as he licks past his lips, mixing with the sweetness of the cake. Suguru’s other hand is pressed flat against his back, pulling him in as close as he can get him as their lips work together, slowly. “Maybe you should drink wine more often,” Satoru murmurs as Suguru’s lips kiss down his chin and under his jaw, slowly making their way towards the pale skin of his neck. “It always makes you real clingy.”

Suguru doesn’t react to his husband’s words with more than a smile as he kisses along the underside of his jaw. It’s only when Satoru quickly stands up off of his lap that he opens his eyes again, not knowing what was going on. He feels himself being pulled up and out of the chair and towards the bed where Satoru sits down on the edge. Satoru scoots just far enough up the bed that he can pull Suguru down on top of him, the two of them now having effectively switched places. His knees sit on either side of Satoru’s hips, dipping into the plushness of the mattress. Feeling Satoru’s hands on his back and the hardness between his legs, he looks down at him with a smirk. “I can feel that.” He teases, using Satoru’s own words back against him.

“I know you can.” Satoru whispers in response as he cranes his neck up to meet their lips together once again, the throbbing in between his legs a dull ache, longing to be satisfied. He feels Suguru’s arms wrap around the back of his neck as they hungrily take in the feel of one another. The way his hips slowly grind down as he sneaks his tongue into Satoru’s mouth is enough to have Satoru moaning already, the weight of his husband against the hardness in his pants driving him mad. He pulls back ever so slightly and Suguru takes the time to attack his neck once more, taking the invitation that wasn’t and sucking lightly on the sensitive spot on the side of his neck. “Mmh, Sugu,” He manages to get out as he leans back on one arm. 

Suguru continues slowly circling his hips, feeling as Satoru is rolling his own upwards, trying to feel any kind of relief. He detaches himself from his neck, looking down and admiring the few purple marks he’d already left on the pale skin with a soft smile before sitting up and starting to unbutton the rest of his shirt. Satoru watches, breathless as he admires the works of art covering his chest and shoulders as if he’d never seen them before. He sits with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth as Suguru tosses his shirt to the floor.

“So are you just gonna sit there and stare?” He asks, looking down at Satoru who’s still fully clothed.

“You didn’t even give me a chance!” He cries out in response with a chuckle as Suguru grabs the bottom of his shirt, taking it over his head for him and tossing it haphazardly onto the floor alongside his own. “Someone’s impatient.”

“I waited for you to eat your cake. Your cake is done and I want you now.” Suguru says with raised eyebrows as he looks down at his snow-haired partner. The way the necklace looks against his skin is enough to drive him absolutely crazy. Satoru looks up with his mouth slightly agape, not really knowing how to respond.

“Suguru, if you keep sweet talking me like that, I’m gonna cum before I even get inside you.”

Suguru smirks down at his somewhat flustered husband before he unbuttons Satoru’s pants, moving just enough that he can slide them off and toss them aside. He gestures his head upwards and Satoru easily gets the hint, scooting further up the bed so that his head is in the pillows, now in just his boxers. Suguru hooks his fingers into the waistband, pulling them off with a smile, looking down at his already leaking tip as it leans up against his stomach. 

Satoru looks down now with his hands clasped behind his head. He watches as Suguru leans over and takes his cock in his hand before giving the tip a gentle kiss. He cranes his head back with a whine. “Sugu, don’t tease, it’s my bir-” He starts to complain, but is quickly cut off by the warmth and wetness of Suguru’s mouth around him, reacting with a gasp. “Oh, shit.”

He bobs his head up and down around his cock a couple times before lifting off and looking up at Satoru with a smirk. “Keep running that mouth, yeah?” He says as his hand sluggishly drags up and down, making sure to squeeze more towards the tip. Satoru props himself up on one elbow with a shaky breath as he tries to talk.

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you.” He says, confidently, trying not to sound like he was affected by Suguru’s slow movements whatsoever. 

“Yeah?” The pointed look on and the smirk on Suguru’s face says it all: He doesn’t believe a word out of Satoru’s mouth.

“Yeah.” Satoru assures him, looking down with a smirk.

“Then tell me why I’m the only one with my pants still on.” 

Satoru narrows his eyes for a quick second before sitting up and pulling Suguru further up the bed to lie down next to where he was, completely tossing aside the prospect of getting his dick sucked beforehand. Suguru falls on his back into the pillows with a smile as Satoru makes quick work of his pants, pulling them and his boxers off in one swift motion. He looks up at Suguru from where he kneels between his legs, big smiles on both of their flushed pink faces. He wraps his hand around Suguru’s cock, giving it a couple pumps, earning a soft hiss from him. 

He thinks about it for a moment before letting go and reaching his fingers up towards Suguru’s mouth with a smile as he sits back on his knees. Suguru knows what he wants and opens his mouth, letting his long, slender fingers in past his lips. The smile on Satoru’s flushed face is beaming as his lips close around his fingers, Suguru sucking on them without breaking eye contact. “Fuck, Sugu, I get why you do this, it’t hot as hell.” He says, earning a slight chuckle from Suguru as he pulls his wet fingers out of his mouth. 

Letting his knees fall apart, Suguru looks down, watching Satoru’s face as he focuses on what he’s doing. “You sure you know what you’re doing?” He teases, watching as Satoru hesitates, just staring for a moment before lowering his fingers towards his hole.

“Shut up,” He says, furrowing his eyebrows as he looks back up for a split second, a smirk flashing on his lips quickly before he focuses. Suguru chuckles slightly watching as Satoru moves slowly. “I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

“Baby, it’s one finger; I’m not made of glass.” He says, letting his head fall back into the pillows once more. “You should know better than me.” 

That’s all it takes for Satoru to reassure himself that he knows what he’s doing. Just do the same thing he does to me. Yeah, easy enough. He mentally talks himself through it as he presses first his middle finger against the edge of Suguru’s hole, pausing for a moment before slowly pushing inside. He looks up at Suguru to make sure he isn’t making any pained faces, but instead he assures him with a nod. “Is that okay?” He asks as he gets the first finger all the way in, slowly moving it in and out as he watches Suguru’s reaction.

“It’s okay, baby,” Suguru reassures him with a smile and another nod of his head.

He slowly continues his hand movements for a moment, watching the minimal reactions on Suguru’s face. “I’m gonna add another one, okay?” Suguru nods his head, feeling the slight stretch from a second one of Satoru’s fingers. 

Not wanting to hurt him, Satoru keeps his movements slow at first, watching his every reaction. “Baby, you can go faster.” Suguru urges him. He nods his head and picks up the pace slightly. He thinks about what he knows feels good and starts to curl lithe fingers upwards, earning a soft gasp from Suguru. He looks up at his face with a smirk, happy to know he’s doing something right. He keeps doing what he’s doing and uses his other hand to wrap around Suguru’s cock, earning another gasp from him. “Ha-ah,” Suguru breathes out, not expecting Satoru’s other hand to do anything. 

With a smirk, Satoru’s hands work slowly both inside and out, doing his best to make his raven-haired partner feel as good as he does when it’s his turn. “You like that, Sugu?” He asks, his voice sweet as he watches the way his fingers disappear inside of him.

“Mhm,” Suguru hums, but that isn’t good enough.

“Now what happened to using our words, hmm?” Satoru asks with a devilish smirk on his face, excited to use Suguru’s own words back on him.

Suguru lifts his head from where it lies in the pillows and looks down at Satoru with an open mouth, almost like he’s surprised, but also proud of him for saying it. With a shake of his head he says, “yes, Toru, ‘s’good.” 

“Awe, now that wasn’t so hard was it?” Satoru’s tone is borderline laughing, enjoying the position of power over him perhaps a little bit too much.

“Fuck y- ah,” Suguru tries to curse him out, but finds it hard to speak with Satoru’s long fingers reaching deep inside of him, deeper than he’s ever been able to reach on his own. 

“What was that?” 

“Fuck y- you,” He’s able to get out this time with a smirk on his face as he sits with his chin to his chest, looking down at Satoru in between his legs. With that, Satoru lets his hand fall from where he had it wrapped around his cock and abruptly pulls his fingers out. An unexpected whine leaves Suguru’s throat at the sudden emptiness he felt.

“Do you think you’re ready?” Satoru asks seriously as he scoots up further in between Suguru’s legs. As much as he loved teasing and fucking with him, he didn’t actually want to hurt him. He brings his hand up to his mouth, spitting in his fingers and spreading it over his dick.

Suguru nods his head, “Just go slow.” He says, looking down in between his legs. Satoru nods his head, lining up the tip of his cock with Suguru’s entrance, his breath slow as he focuses and starts to push inside. The look on Suguru’s face is almost confused, not sure if the stretch hurts or feels incredibly good - maybe a little bit of both. “It’s okay,” He nods his head as their eyes meet, Satoru watching the look on his face as he slowly keeps pushing inside. “Holy shit.”

 “Fuck, Sugu,” Satoru moans out, not even all the way inside yet. The new sensation would be enough to make his spin completely around if it were possible. “So fucking tight.” 

With his mouth hanging open, Suguru looks up at Satoru’s face as he finally gets all the way inside. “Fuck,” he sighs out, “so big.”

Satoru smirks through the feeling of his own pleasure at Suguru’s comment. “I know, right?” 

Suguru shakes his head and rolls his eyes, trying to hide the smile on his flushed face. “Oh my god, shut up.” 

“You’re so fucking warm,” Satoru says as he sits there for just a moment, letting both of them adjust to the feeling before moving any more. He feels the way Suguru’s walls twitch around him and leans his head back with a gasp. “Oh fuck, Sugu, can I move yet?” He asks, not sure how long he can actually last like this.

Nodding his head, Suguru holds his bottom lip in between his teeth. “Just- slow, please.” He says. Satoru nods his head and slowly pulls back out before pushing all the way back in, both of their eyebrows furrowing at the feeling. 

He keeps a slow pace for the first few thrusts as Suguru gets used to the size. Satoru was used to the size of Suguru, but this was the first time in their almost two years together that he’d been inside of him rather than the usual way. It wasn’t that he hadn’t ever thought about it, but he didn’t necessarily feel a need to try, being perfectly happy with the way that they did things. After a few more slow, languid thrusts, Suguru nods his head. “You can go faster, baby.” He assures him, looking up at his white-haired husband with half-lidded eyes. 

Satoru picks up the pace slightly, trying to calm himself down so as to not cum immediately. He leans over on top of Suguru, letting his elbows rest on either side of him as he readjusts his position. Suguru quickly makes use of the birthday present he had purchased and hooks a finger in the silver chain that dangles above him, pulling Satoru down into a desperate kiss. He feels Satoru’s hips momentarily stall, Satoru finding it difficult to focus on not cumming immediately as Suguru’s slightly swollen lips feel hot against his. 

He pulls back with a smile, just staring at Suguru’s face for a quick second. His mouth hangs open, hot breaths coming and going as he nuzzles his face into Suguru’s neck before he starts moving again, this time at a slightly quicker pace. He focuses on leaving kisses on the soft skin of his neck to distract himself just enough with something else.

“Ah- fuck, Satoru. You’re doing s- so good for me, baby.” Suguru stutters out, carding his fingers through the white hair on the back of his head as he holds him close. The way he nudges against his prostate is enough to have him moaning into Satoru’s ear like never before. Normally he was the one with big talk and even bigger game, but this had him reduced to nothing more than a moaning mess. Satoru whines into his neck, pulling back slightly to look into Suguru’s eyes with a smile at the praises spilling from his mouth.

The warmth, the wetness, and the softness of Suguru made Satoru sure that he wouldn’t last more than a minute like this. “Sugu,” He moans, looking down at him with knitted brows as he continues rolling his hips rhythmically into him, feeling every blissful bump and ridge inside of him dragging against his cock. 

“Yes, baby?” Suguru responds, his voice soft and sweet as he watches Satoru’s eyes squeeze shut.

“I can’t-” He moans, feeling the way Suguru’s walls tighten around him, threatening to milk every drop from him after less than a couple minutes. 

“Yes you can, baby. You’re doing so fucking good f’r me, making me feel- ah, s- so good.” Suguru manages to get out, just barely as Satoru’s cock continues poking against the sweet spot deep inside of him. 

Satoru shakes his head and stalls his hips, knowing that if he doesn’t stop, he’s going to cum already. “No, Sugu I can’t,” He whines, quickly pulling out, earning a gasp from Suguru at the empty feeling.

“Baby, why’d you stop? You were doing so good for me.” He coos, his hand coming up to cup underneath Satoru’s jaw, pulling him down for another kiss. Satoru sighs against his lips, sitting back on his knees after pulling away.

“Can’t you just do it?” Satoru asks with a frown, realizing why he hadn’t asked for this earlier. “I’m tired.”

Suguru looks at him with raised eyebrows as he seemingly gives up and lies down next to him, letting his head fall into the pillows while his chest heaves with heavy breaths. “You’re giving up already?” He asks with a smirk on his face and a chuckle as he props himself up on an elbow. Satoru nods his head as he scrunches his nose. With the smirk still on his face, Suguru sits up. Satoru lets his legs open, expecting Suguru to switch places with him, but instead, he throws one leg over Satoru’s hips, straddling him. He looks up at him with a confused look as Suguru reaches behind, grabbing onto Satoru’s cock. “No, I think you’re gonna finish what you started.” He says with a devilish smirk on his face as he in one quick motion sits down on Satoru’s cock, feeling it quickly filling him up once again.

Surprised gasps leave both of their mouths at the sensation, eyes wide and mouths open. “Fuck!” Satoru cries out as he throws his head back into the pillows, letting his eyes fall closed. “I’m g’na cum though.” He whines as Suguru slowly lifts and lowers himself back down. 

“Don’t care,” Suguru says, planting his hands on either side of Satoru’s head in the pillows and lifting his hips up and dropping them back down quickly. Satoru quickly becomes a whining mess underneath him, his hands grasping at his hips as he bounces on his cock. The smirk on his face disappears when he feels the way Satoru’s able to reach deep inside of him, perfectly reaching the delicious spot that he never could on his own. He quickly moves his hips, now angled to perfectly hit the spot every time without missing, causing his eyes to roll back in his head along with the sensation.

“Sugu, please don’t sto- p.” Satoru lets out a broken whine as Suguru continues at a much quicker pace than he was originally going when he was the one doing all the work. “Shit, a-ah,” He breathes out shaky moans as the pads of his fingers dig into the flesh of Suguru’s hips.

“Where’d all that big talk go, huh, baby?” Suguru teases with a smirk as he breathes heavily, knowing that both of them are about to burst at any second. “Thought you were gonna- ah-ngh- fuck the shit outta me?” Suguru continues teasing as he rides Satoru like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. His chain hangs down and his long hair cascades down around Satoru’s face, slightly tickling his skin as he moves.

Satoru isn’t even able to respond, the tightness of Suguru’s walls around him having him threatening to spill everything into him at a moment’s notice. He can’t even say out loud that he’s about to cum, his mouth open and eyes rolling back in his head as he feels himself tipping over the edge, practically seeing stars. Suguru feels the twitch of his cock and doesn’t stop, feeling himself about to cum as well. He feels the not-so-familiar warmth spreading deep inside of him as Satoru finally cums, digging his fingers into Suguru’s skin with long strings of whines and shaky moans leaving his mouth as he does. The tip of his cock hitting against Suguru’s sweet spot over and over is enough to have him spilling his warm seed over Satoru’s stomach.

“Ahh, fu- uuck,” Suguru draws out as he slowly brings his movements to a stop. Both of their chests are heaving with their heavy breaths as hair sticks to their foreheads and their cheeks are flushed from all the excitement. He sits there for a moment, knowing that there will be a mess as soon as he climbs off of Satoru, so instead he rests himself down against Satoru’s chest, not caring about the sticky mess on his stomach. He looks at Satoru with a smile, still breathing heavily. He pushes Satoru’s sweaty hair back off of his forehead and presses a kiss to his skin before nuzzling his head into his neck. “I see why you like me to stay inside after we’re done; this is nice.” He says quietly into the skin of his neck.

“I think I saw the light for a moment.” Satoru says, bringing an arm around to rub slowly up and down Suguru’s back as he’s staring up at the ceiling, still breathing hard. Suguru chuckles lightly, lifting his head up to look at his husband with a smile. 

“Was it everything you hoped it would be?” Suguru raises his eyebrows as he asks, not entirely sure for once how Satoru will answer his question.

“It was definitely really good, but I think I like it more when you do all the work.” Satoru says with a smug grin on his face, bringing his hand to the back of Suguru’s neck to pull him down for another kiss. They smile against each other’s lips, tasting the faint saltiness on their lips from sweat.

“Of course you do, lazy-ass.” Suguru murmurs against his lips before pulling away. “This is gonna be a mess, isn’t it?” He says as he sits up, ready to stand up and hurry towards the bathroom. Satoru nods his head with a sleepy looking smile, but lets out a gasp at the sudden cold as Suguru climbs off of him.

Suguru lets out a similar gasp, feeling as Satoru’s cum drips out of him. Satoru looks down, watching as it drips onto him, making even more of a mess. “Sugu, are you gonna bring me a towel?” Satoru asks as Suguru hurries off of him and into the bathroom. “Sugu? Did you hear me?” He doesn’t hear and answer and sits up on his elbows. “Suguru I’m stuck here.” He calls out, looking towards the bathroom, hoping that his husband will emerge, but he doesn’t and he hears the shower turn on. “Suguru?!” He calls out, worried that he’s going to be here for a while, but he hears the familiar laugh from the bathroom.

“Just a second!” He calls out, still laughing from the bathroom as he runs a towel under hot water. “Be patient,” he says, knowing that patience is not one of Satoru’s strong suits. He wrings out the warm towel and heads back out to where Satoru lies unmoved in the middle of the bed. 

“Took you long enough.”

“I can take this back and just go take a shower without you, if you want.” Suguru says, raising his eyebrows as he holds the towel just out of reach of Satoru’s hands. 

“Wait no, Sugu please get this off of me.” He whines, realizing that he really isn’t in a position to be making those kinds of comments right now.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Suguru says with a smirk as he leans over to help Satoru clean the mess off of his stomach. 

“Thank you, Suguboooo.” Satoru draws out with a smile as he bats his eyelashes up at his dark-haired husband who just smiles back down at him. He gets him all cleaned up and leans over to give him a gentle lingering kiss.

“All clean.” He says, standing back up and heading towards the bathroom.

“Does this mean you’re not gonna carry me?” Satoru calls out after him. When he’s met with silence he sits up and calls out again. “Suguru?” Silence follows and he stands up from the bed with a huff, a slight frown on his face as he walks into the bathroom to see Suguru already in the shower, the door still open as he’s waiting to be joined. “Did you not hear me?” He asks as he steps into the shower and closes the door.

“No, I heard you.” 

Satoru lets his jaw drop, a slight smile on his face as he watches Suguru with his eyes closed and head back under the hot water falling from the showerhead. “So you were ignoring me?” 

“Do you ever carry me to the bathroom after we’re done?” Suguru asks with a quirked eyebrow as he moves aside to let Satoru under the water.

“Well-” Satoru starts, furrowing his brows while he tries to come up with an answer, “no, but-”

“So what I’m hearing is that you should’ve carried me in here.” Suguru continues with a smirk as Satoru realizes that his argument has absolutely no standing here. 

Satoru shakes his head, realizing that he’s not going to win this one. He instead puts his hands on Suguru’s shoulders and gently turns him around, pressing his thumbs into his muscles and massaging out his shoulders. 

Suguru lets his head fall forward as his eyes close, taking in a deep breath while Satoru kneads out the tension in his shoulders that he hadn’t realized was even there. He lets out the breath with a slow sigh, tilting his head to the side as Satoru digs into a particularly tight spot on the side of his neck. He smiles as he feels Satoru press his lips to his skin and brings his hand up to rest on top of his before turning back around. “Thank you baby.” He says with a soft smile.

Satoru smiles back at him as he turns back around and leans forward again to press a kiss to his lips this time, tiny droplets of water covering both of their faces. He sees the water on Suguru’s eyelashes as he looks into his eyes and presses a kiss to both of his cheeks, earning a chuckle from him. “Thank you for giving me the best birthday I could ask for, Gugu.” He says as he wraps his arms around Suguru’s shoulders, pulling him in or a hug underneath the hot water. Suguru holds onto him back, spreading out his fingers wide over his back, pressing into his skin as he holds him close. 

“You’re welcome Toru,” He says into the crook of Satoru’s neck. “You deserve it.” 

Satoru smiles at his quiet response, slowly rocking them back and forth under the water for a few moments before they continue on with their shower. 

They lazily wash each other’s and bodies, taking the time to relax under the hot water and just enjoy their shower. After they shut off the water and get dried off, Satoru roughly rubs a towel through his hair, getting it as dry as he can while Suguru wraps his up, another towel sitting low on his hips as they both stand in front of the mirror.

Satoru rests his chin on Suguru’s shoulder as he stands behind him, looking into his warm honey eyes in the mirror. “Can I brush your hair?” His hands rest on the sides of his hips gently, just letting them rest on the warm, damp skin right above the towel.

“It’s wet so you have to be extra careful,” He says, turning his head to leave a kiss on Satoru’s cheek. Satoru nods his head as he picks up the brush off of the counter. Suguru lets his hair down from the towel he has it wrapped up in and shakes his head, letting it fall down his back. He scrunches it up in the towel, trying to get as much water out as possible before he heads out of the bathroom, Satoru following right behind him. He grabs the desk chair and sits down in it after rolling it in front of the chaise so that Satoru can sit right behind him. 

“Don’t worry, Sugu; I’ll be extra extra careful.” Satoru says, sitting down behind him and running his hands under his hair to straighten it out. He starts at the ends, diligently making sure that there’s no tangles before he moves up even further. Suguru smiles at the feeling, letting his head lie over the back of the chair while his eyes fall closed. Satoru keeps slowly working his way up, stopping to stand up and press a kiss to Suguru’s lips with a smile before sitting back down to finish brushing his hair out. 

Suguru chuckles lightly as he opens his eyes. “Come back here.” He says quietly, waiting for Satoru to stand up again. He quickly stands up and gives him another kiss, this one more slow and tender than the last. “Mmm,” He hums against Satoru’s lips with a smile. Satoru sits back down once again, determined to finish brushing out Suguru’s hair. 

“Are you excited to get into our house?” Satoru asks as he slowly runs the brush through the long silky raven hair. 

“Of course I am…” Suguru responds as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you?”

“I can’t wait.” He answers, the smile on his face loud and apparent in his voice. “I’m excited to decorate and I think Shiro’s gonna love all the space.” He thinks about all the windows for her to be able to bask in the sun.

A soft smile sits on Suguru’s lips as he thinks about it. “She’s definitely gonna love the new cat towers you picked out.” Satoru had picked out a few different ones to go in a few of the rooms throughout the house, maybe even going a little bit overboard on some of them. He found one that went almost all the way up the ceiling with plenty of holes to hide in, soft beds, and scratch posts and immediately knew that she would love it. “Maybe she needs a friend.” Suguru says after thinking about it for a moment.

Satoru’s voice is excited. “You think so?” 

Suguru nods his head. “Why not?” He thinks for a second longer before speaking again. “Unless you think we should wait.”

Satoru tucks his bottom lip in between his teeth for a second. “Wait for what?” He asks, running the brush slowly from the top of Suguru’s head all the way down to the ends with no more tangles. Suguru turns around in the chair to face Satoru once he feels that he’s finally done. Satoru hands him the brush and he takes it before setting it on the desk next to where he sits.

“Well…” Suguru starts looking off to the side with a slight smile. “Do you think we should wait until after we have kids to get another pet?”

“How soon do you want kids?” Satoru asks with a soft smile as he extends his legs and puts his feet up in Suguru’s lap. 

Suguru thinks about it for a moment, looking out the window at the lights of the city before he looks back to Satoru. “Ask me again in a couple months.” 

“A couple months?” Satoru cries out, sitting forward with a playful smile on his lips. “You don’t know how soon?”

“How about-” He starts, standing up and letting Satoru’s feet fall from where they rested and sits down next to him on the chaise, “- we get settled into the house and we can start thinking more seriously about it.” He rests his head of damp hair on Satoru’s shoulder as they both sit there still in nothing but their towels. “Sound good?”

“Deal.” Satoru says, turning his head to press a kiss to the top of Suguru’s head as it rests on the bare skin of his shoulder. They both smile as they sit in silence for a couple of moments before Suguru stands up and walks back towards the bathroom once again. “Do you want to watch a movie?” Satoru calls out, standing up and heading over to where his birthday cake still sits out on the table. He sticks the plastic fork into it to grab a bite, not even bothering to cut off an entire piece this time.

“It’s your birthday, you pick what we watch.” Suguru responds as he finishes up his post-shower routine to get ready for bed. 

Satoru scrolls through the apps on the tv as he waits for Suguru to emerge once again from the bathroom in underwear rather than a towel. “How do you feel about Star Wars Episode 4?” Satoru asks with narrowed eyes as he tries to gauge Suguru’s reaction.

“Baby, it’s your birthday, you could pick the worst movie in existence and I’ll still watch it with you if it’s what you want to watch.” Suguru says from the bathroom doorway, his words muffled as a toothbrush sticks out of his mouth. Satoru queues up the movie and climbs into bed, dropping the towel haphazardly onto the floor, not bothering to put on anything after their shower. Suguru joins him in bed after turning off the lights, leaving nothing but the lights on the nightstand and the tv to light the room. He sits slightly up against the headboard with pillows behind his back and wraps his arm around Satoru who comes and lies with his head on his chest. “Are you still naked?” Suguru asks, lifting up the covers to see his suspicions confirmed.

“Yes, Suguru, and I think it’s a little disappointing that you aren’t, considering how it’s still my birthday for at least another two hours.”

His response pulls a chuckle from Suguru’s chest as Satoru presses play on the movie before he tosses the remote aside. “Do you want me to be?”

“I mean… I won’t complain if you decide to take off your underwear and cuddle naked with me, Sugu, if that’s what you’re asking.” Satoru says with a devious smile on his lips. Suguru shakes his head and rolls his eyes with a smile as he reaches under the covers and pushes them off, flicking them onto the floor with his foot.

“Is that better?” He asks, looking down at Satoru. He doesn’t answer, but the rough squeeze Satoru gives his ass is enough of an answer, making Suguru yelp slightly in surprise. “Ah! Okay, okay.” He says with a chuckle as he scoots down, settling against Satoru and letting their legs tangle together as the movie starts, the yellow words rolling up across the screen in front of the stars.

Satoru is surprisingly quiet for a good chunk of the movie, opting to leave occasional kisses on Suguru’s chest as he lies on top of it, earning smiles and head kisses back from Suguru. “I think I would be a pretty good Jedi.” Satoru says, sounding extremely sure of himself as they watch Luke training with the lightsaber.

“You think so? You wouldn’t turn to the dark side?” Suguru asks with a quirked brow, even though Satoru can’t see it as he focuses on the tv screen.

“I don’t think so… I would have no reason to.” 

“I don’t know,” Suguru starts, taking a slow breath in through his nose, “I think the red lightsabers are pretty cool.” 

“Sugu, please don’t tell me you would turn to the dark side just because of the lightsaber colors.” Satoru says, lifting his head up to turn and look Suguru in the eyes. 

“It wouldn’t be just because of the colors, baby, don’t worry - I’d have other reasons.” He says with a smirk. Satoru’s jaw drops open as Suguru insinuates that he might join the dark side if given the opportunity. 

“What if I was there to stop you?” Satoru asks, taking this far too seriously for something that doesn’t actually exist.

“I dunno Roo, there’s a lot of things wrong with the Jedi…” Suguru trails off, at this point just pulling Satoru’s leg to see how much he gets worked up about it. 

“Okay but you can be like the Jedi that have purple lightsabers - they can use aspects of the dark side of the force, but they’re still with the good guys.” Satoru explains, allowing his nerdy side to come out, putting a smile on Suguru’s face. “They’re also really good in combat.”

“That does sound pretty enticing.” Suguru taps his chin as he pretends to think about it. “But what if you’re on the dark side?”

“I’m obviously on the light side in this scenario.” 

“Ohhh, obviously.” Suguru says playfully.

“Suguru, I feel like you’re not taking this seriously.”

Suguru laughs and presses a kiss to Satoru’s forehead before he lets his head rest back down against his chest. “Baby, if you want me to be a light side user, I’ll stay just for you.” 

For the next several minutes, Satoru goes into grave detail about the rules of the Jedi and relationships and how they wouldn’t be able to be together if they were Jedi because of the Jedi code. Suguru can do nothing but smile as his husband explains Star Wars lore that he’s never even heard of before all to clarify this completely fictitious scenario that Satoru made up. 

“Okay, so if either of us are Jedi, we can’t be together because our emotions could make us prone to becoming dark side users?” Suguru asks to clarify.

“Precisely!” 

“Then I’m glad we’re not Jedi and I get to be married to you.” Suguru nods his head with a silent yawn, happy that Satoru is so happy to explain all of this to him. “I love my little Star Wars nerd of a husband.” He says, giving Satoru a tight squeeze as he shifts further down, letting his head rest into the pillows next to Satoru’s. 

Satoru turns to face Suguru, their faces just centimeters apart. “I love you Suguboo.” Satoru whispers with a sleepy smile on his face.

“I love you too, Roo.” Suguru whispers back to him, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose quickly. Satoru smiles and scoots forward, resting his arm over Suguru’s wait to pull him closer. Their legs are tangled together as their bodies are pressed up next to each other, warm skin against one another. Satoru closes his eyes and presses a slow kiss to Suguru’s lips, lingering behind for just a moment before pulling away once again with a mischievous smile.

“What?” Suguru asks, knowing he’s got something.”

“Well…” He starts, taking a dramatic pause before continuing in just barely a whisper, “I don’t like sand.” 

[silverstonesainz]

regret & whatever love is

of everything said and left unsaid frat!george x reader 2.8k words warnings: toxic relationship ; mentions of alcohol 

d rambles. . . i wrote this in one sitting and i think thats super apparent but YAY, i wrote smth. this is for two requests that i received months ago, so two birds one stone. hope u like this, and as always feedback is always appreciated!!

you find that these days, it’s easier to be further from george than right by him. but that isn’t a truth you could ever cough up to. 

it’s obvious though, you think as you babysit a cup of warm vodka and flat sprite. he’s on the opposite end of the room, laughing at a joke and entertaining people without you. he talks to the whole room like he doesn’t have a care in the world, truly, you’ve never seen him so relaxed. it irritates you to no end, and you almost walk over to watch the tension weave back into his shoulders, watch that stupid smile fall off his lips and remind him that you exist.

you sip on your drink, down the rest of it even if it burns. you excuse yourself from the group, walking back into the kitchen to pour yourself another drink. the kitchen island is a mess of half-empty bottles of soda and even emptier bottle of liquor. there are already three bottles pushed aside, empty, in the first hour of the post-social shenanigans. You reach for the blue bottle of plain new amsterdam vodka, pouring what you can only guess to be three shots worth before adding sprite. it bubbles, fizzes close to the brim, and you watch as the foam subsides before dripping in a little more. the soda does a shit job at masking the putrid taste of liquor, and for once you accept that. 

foot steps move closer into the kitchen, followed by laughter and promises that he’d be right back. you know it’s george, you know by how light his steps are. it’s like he walks on air, floats. you don’t look up from your cup, more interested in the clear mix swirling in your cup. it washes against the stain of your lipstick, and the color doesn’t budge. 

george walks around you, reaches over you, moves about like you’re not even in the room. it hurts. you turn, lean against the edge of the sticky island, bringing the cup to your lips but your eyes trained on the red stain on the dingy tiled floor. the fridge opens and closes, something is poured and another bottle added to the stash of empty ones. then you see a pair of worn brown loafers, the same one he wears when he wants to put effort, but not too much. the leather is begin to peel and you make a mental note to get him new ones. 

“you okay?” george asks. 

you scoff, sipping the drink again before setting it by you, “sure.”

“you wanna talk about it?”

did you? you’d been fighting for so long you aren’t even sure where to begin. honestly, you hoped it would fizzle out like all your other fights have in the past. but fizzling out means someone has to give in, and neither of you are really ready to give up having the upper hand this time around.

maybe to some, the fight was stupid. hell, your girlfriends thought so too. but they only knew of this one instance, and not the three others you’ve made a point to keep hidden. he’s a good guy, it’s an honest mistake, they said. one time is an honest mistake, but catching him talk to his ex four times isn’t. 

“you want to talk about it now?” you ask, eyes wide and disbelief weaved into your features. 

he shrugs, sipping on his cup before placing it on the counter. “yeah. might as well.” 

you scoff again before mocking him. “yeah. might as well.” 

george runs his fingers through his hair, already vexed by a conversation that hasn’t even happened. you bite down on your lip, feeling the tension begin to rise. the air is thick, dense, just like molasses. the tension oozes out into the room, drips slow and thick, sticky and hard to get rid of. the kickback happening in the next room, the messy chorus of conversation and the low hum of music, does little to break it. you shift uncomfortable, foot to foot, not sure if you should speak up first or wait on him to say something.

“i honestly forgot how we got here,” george mumbles, twisting his body in search of his drink. 

“we got here because i caught you talking to sabrina again,” you say, hands coming up behind your neck and fingers reaching into the roots of your hair. you tug softly, let the soft ache distract from the one in your chest. it feel like a ball has grown in your throat when you say her name and remember the circumstances in which you found them. 

to the naked eye, it looked like two friends catching up. but to you, to his girlfriend, you picked up on the glimmer in her eyes as she stared up at him. you notice the subtlety of her body language, how loudly it screamed for your boyfriend. all of her was turned to him, leaned towards him. she looked so comfortable and so did he. he wasn’t antsy, wasn’t looking for an out of the conversation, you bet you weren’t even a thought in his mind even after you had begged him not to talk to her again. 

“you’re still mad about that?” 

you jaw falls open as you stare up at your boyfriend, searching for the joke and the punchline. but his face doesn’t waver that way. instead his brows furrow and his lips pout. both your expressions, though different, ask the same question: you can’t be serious?

“of course i’m fucking mad about it george,” you say through your teeth, “why wouldn’t i be when i asked you not to talk to her anymore.” 

you see a ghost of a smile on his lips, but it’s hidden as he brings his cup up to his mouth. he shakes his head into his drink, exhaling loudly through his nostrils. it’s clear he doesn’t take this as seriously as you do. you watch him drink, the way his adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps whatever is in the red solo cup. you wait even though you want than to push the bottom of the cup up and watch its contents drip onto him. you’d love nothing more than to watch his perfect white t-shirt get stained with alcohol, watch his face contort in anger because then maybe he’s feel just an ounce of what you do. 

“i haven’t talked to her since,” he finally says, crossing his arms. “if it’s any consolation.”

“it’s not. of course it’s not, are you kidding?” you push your fingers through your hair, inhaling sharply. you fill your lungs until it hurts, exhaling loudly before releasing the grip on your locks. “you don’t even care, do you?”

“of course i care—“

“just not enough?”

he presses his lips into a thin line, nostrils flaring. he breathes in through his nose, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to suffocate the irritation rising in his chest. “i fucking care. i just don’t see what the big deal is.” 

“the big deal is, is she’s your ex george. she’s your ex girlfriend who is so clearly still into you. and i’ve asked you not once, but three time to stop entertaining her and you still do!”

“sabrina is not into me.” you shake your head when he says it, speaking over him immediately. “sabrina is definitely into you.” 

george huffs, “so what? you want me to ignore her?” you blink, hard, before nodding your head. your eyes are wide, lips agape, and a crease in your forehead wondering if he’s really asking that ridiculous question. “it’s rude.” he says.

“i could give a shit,” you reply quickly. 

he digs his tongue into his cheek, nodding his head as he looks you up and down. “well i give a shit. i wasn’t raised to be fucking rude to people, and i sure as hell am not gonna start just to appease this delusion you have in your head about me and sab.” 

you freeze, the words render you stiff. your heart falls apart, falls at his feet piece by piece. tears begin to brim at your eyes. you wonder if he regrets it, you can’t tell as he hides behind his cup.

“i should smack the shit out of you,” you whisper, voice quivering. 

george scoffs, unamused, as he empties the cup down his throat. “yeah, maybe.”

tears blur your vision before falling onto your cheek. you have to turn away when you hear another set of footsteps walk into the room. you make quick work to wipe away any evidence of heartbreak, listening to george ask one of his brothers how it’s going. you fumble for your drink, bringing it up immediately to take another gulp of it. you see pierre just above the rim of your cup, his back to you as he talks to george. 

pierre turns to you, smiling, “hey there,” he greats. he extends his arm to you, and you lean into his side for a brief hug. you avoid looking up at him, and when he releases you, you take george’s cup and move to the opposite end of the island. you try to play the doting girlfriend, the girlfriend who knows him so well, well enough to know that his cup is nearly empty. you refill his drink— vodka and mountain dew. you feel george watch you, half paying attention to whatever it is pierre is talking to him about. you don’t meet his gaze, instead reach for the blue labeled bottle of vodka and pour another shot or two in your half empty cup. you take a sip. it tastes terrible. 

you hand george his cup, leaning by him against the counter while he and pierre converse. he doesn’t put his arm around you, or even kisses your forehead like he always does. he just mumbles a thanks and looks at his brother. and though his arm presses against yours, it feels like he’s miles away. you both stand there, even if your hearts had already left the room. you felt empty, a shell of a girl you both loved. 

pierre eventually leaves, returns to the kickback that had picked up since you and george had found yourself stuck in the kitchen with even bigger problems than you led yourself to believe. 

you return to your spot on the kitchen island, back still to him. your elbows rest on the counter, hands supporting your head as you allow yourself to let go of the tension you’d been holding. you cry softly into your palms, letting the tears smudge the makeup around your eyes. you’d look crazy by the end of this, but maybe you always did anyways. george calls your name softly, slightly defeated and maybe even resigned. you wipe your fingers against your eyes, wipe away the tears and the mascara that fell with it. you use every clean bit of finger to wipe your eyes until it no longer leaves streaks of black on your skin. then you turn to george, who looks a little more guilty than moments earlier.

“i’m sorry.” he says. 

“you always protect her,” you stammer softly, “you always find a way to defend her and make me feel fucking crazy george. you always do this.” 

“because you worry yourself over nothing!”

“it’s not nothing!”

alex walks in, and you both have to bit your tongue. he must’ve felt the tension in the room, because he only smiles over at the two of you before grabbing an unopened box of seltzers from the fridge and a stack of unused red cups. 

“we’re uh,” alex clears his throat, “we’re playing rage cage, if you guys want to come.” 

“yeah man,” george’s lips curve up, almost a smile, “we’ll be out in a sec.” 

alex nods before walking out. you wait until his footsteps drown in the music before continuing. 

“it’s not nothing,” you start again, softer this time, “it’s not delusion, even if you want to believe it is. i know she’s into you, a girl always knows.”

“we’ve been broken up for nearly a year,” george is so clearly exasperated, growing tired of the topic. you see it in his green eyes, in the way he presses his lips into a thin line. 

“doesn’t mean she stopped caring about you.” you sniffle. you look up at your boyfriend, who has his gaze cast down at his beat up loafers. he is probably looking at the creases in the leather, the threads holding it together beginning to fray. maybe he’s even acknowledging he needs a new pair. “do you still care about her?”

his body goes rigid. and he opens his lips to give you the answer you want to hear but then he bites down on the words. his head coils back slightly, and his face grimaces because he can't say it. for whatever reason, for every reason, he can’t say that he doesn’t. 

but he should’ve said it. he should’ve been sure, shouldn’t have left a second of space between your question and his answer. 

you whimper, the tears come back. “oh my god,” you whisper. 

you have to walk out of the room, you have to get out of the space and find way to breathe. you can hear george calling behind you, following you with heavier footsteps. no one notices you walkout of the house, but they do notice george. you try to close the door behind you, but he catches it before it can slam shut. he reaches out for you, fingers curling around your arm and pulling you into his chest. you can feel the words vibrate in his chest and into you. i don’t, i don’t, he chants. i’m sorry. i swear i don’t. he holds onto you so tightly, and you find it hard to slip away from him no matter how hard you try. you push and writhe, but george holds on. but you get away, panting and red in the face. 

you stand with a bit of a distance between you two. you find it easier to be further from george than right by him. it’s easier to breathe, easier not to hate him or yourself. distance might make the heart grow fonder but not here. between you and george, distance makes the relationship bearable. but love isn’t supposed to be this way. love should make the distance hurt, it should make standing a foot away from him burn your skin. but to you, a foot of space isn’t enough.

george takes a step forward. you take a step backward.

the words, the tension, the soft admittance that a bit of space might be beneficial for the both of you is stuck in your throat. but the tears, the tears keep falling. they fall and fall and fall, dripping onto your chest. 

the guilt, the regret, is evident in george’s face, even more so now than you had ever seen. “i’m sorry.” he stutters. 

this is the part you’re supposed to say that you know, that it’s okay. but it’s not. it’s not okay. you know he’s sorry, but you also know that nothing about the last fifteen or so minutes is okay. 

“i’m sorry.” he says again. 

“i know.” your voice breaks.

is this even love anymore?

“i’ll— i’ll block sabrina. i won’t speak to her, i’ll be rude to her, fuck whatever it takes. i’m sorry baby, you have to know how sorry i am.”

maybe this is love. a skewed, fucked up version of love that works for you and george. maybe that’s why you hold on, because it works. even if it’s toxic and wrong and goes against every single thing written about love, even if it’s a kind of love that needs the threat of leaving to find a bit of compromise— it works. 

“don’t put me in the position again george.” your voice barely carries above the wind. but george hears it, nods profusely when he does. “please.” 

“i won’t,” he reassures. 

you should’ve said it was over. you shouldn’t have given him another chance, because you’d already given him one too many. and you know what this will all succumb to, you’d been down this road before. maybe you’ll regret this one day, when george will say things he’ll apologize for when its too late, and talk to a girl you’d already begged him not to. one day you’ll regret walking back into his arm and accepting that maybe this is what love ought to be: a lot of heartache and just enough compromise to quell it. 

george holds you so tightly you struggle to breathe. you drown in his scent, in his hold, and in the threat of all this coming back to punch you in the face. you drown in regret and whatever love is supposed to be.