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#tune in next time when I try to do an actual piece
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pre hotel battle and vaggie wants to round out her gf's stat blocks just a LITTLE bit more
Vaggie: “Okay sweetie, big battle for our lives and hotel coming up.”
Charlie: “Which we are going to WIN and NOT DIE in!”
Vaggie: “Right. First battle you’ve ever been in?”
Charlie: “Technically, yes.”
Vaggie: “Still not vibing with an actual weapon?”
Charlie: “They’re all so…. Pointy and mean looking…?”
Vaggie: “So we’re sticking with the shield plan for you.”
Charlie: “I drew up some designs for one! LOOK! WINGS!!!”
Vaggie: “Really, very cute babe, it’ll look great on you. Very cool thing for any murder angels to smack face first into.”
Charlie: “Thank you!”
Vaggie: “But I’ve been thinking… well no, I’ve been having nightmares-”
Charlie: “OH NO!!!”
Vaggie: “-and if you wanna help with that, maybe you could have, like, just one kinda attack thing?”
Charlie: “Oh.”
Vaggie: “One trick up your sleeve, Charlie. That’s all I’m asking.”
Charlie: “I… I guess… if you’re worried, then…”
Charlie: “…I could… try doing the demon thing… a little…?”
Vaggie: “No you hate that.”
Charlie: (HUGE SIGH) “Okay good! WHEW. So what’s the OTHER attack thing idea??”
Vaggie: “You do have a little of the carnival magic stuff, yeah? Like your dad?”
Charlie: “Oh I love that stuff! YES!”
Vaggie: “I was thinking maybe you could do fireworks.”
Charlie: “FUN!”
Vaggie: “And explode people with them.”
Charlie: “HORRIFYING!!!”
Vaggie: “I know. I know but- just a little, sweetie? For me?”
Charlie: “Explode them, Vaggie? Into, pieces!?”
Vaggie: “I’m picturing globs and chunks actually.”
Charlie: “Vaggie!”
Vaggie: “Sorry, look-” (takes gf’s hands)
Vaggie: “This is gonna be a real battle with a lot of stuff happening. Lots of people. Lots of yelling and people running around. We’re probably gonna get separated at some point-”
Charlie: “No. You’re staying right next to me.”
Vaggie: “Charlie I swear I’m gonna try to, but that's not how big mob fights work out.”
Charlie: “We can MAKE it work like that THIS time!”
Vaggie: “Listen. I really, really want to go into this knowing you’ve got something for crowd control, alright? If a dozen angels swoop down on you and I’m not right there, I wanna know you can give yourself enough breathing space to keep that shield between you and them.”
Charlie: “But- you WILL be there-”
Vaggie: “One hit. That’s all it takes. For me and for them both, and you- please.” (squeezes hands) “They want to kill you. And they can. And they’re gonna try to.”
Charlie: “….”
Charlie: “… I don’t want, to hurt people.”
Vaggie: “A shield to the face hurts.”
Charlie: “Okay fine- I don’t want to KILL people! Or even get close!”
Vaggie: “That’s fine, that’s the world we’re aiming for.”
Charlie: “But it’s not good enough right now though, is it.”
Vaggie: “… maybe it is.”
Charlie: “You just said…”
Vaggie: “Fuck what I said, you don’t need to detonate anyone for crowd control. You can do lights, right?”
Charlie: “Yes?”
Vaggie: “Bright and flashy ones?”
Charlie: “Obviously, those are the best kinds-”
Vaggie: “So try flashing people.”
Charlie: “Flashing?? Wh- IN THE MIDDLE OF A BATTLE???”
Vaggie: “-blinding, blinding I meant blind them with flashing lights, get them to back off.”
Charlie: “Oh!”
Vaggie: “That a doable thing?”
Charlie: “Yes VERY doable! Like a really amazing sparkler!”
Vaggie: “And they wouldn’t be dead, they just wouldn’t be able to see enough to attack you.”
Charlie: “It wouldn’t even really HURT THEM even!”
Vaggie: “Sure. Unless they trip or fly into something.”
Charlie: “And you’d feel better???”
Vaggie: “Much, much better.”
Charlie: “Enough to sleep?”
Vaggie: “When you’re not keeping me up half the night with kisses, yeah. I think so.”
Charlie: “I’LL DO IT! I’ll practice weaponizing pretty sparkles!”
Vaggie: “Thanks, babe.”
Charlie: “What battle weapon-y things should I be practicing with them, in practice?”
Vaggie: “Uhhh make it a reflex, fine tune your aim…”
Charlie: “Fun!”
Vaggie: “Figuring out how to not blind everyone else too would be good.”
Charlie: “That’s a good point, hmm-”
Charlie: “-Ohhhhh I could make the lights SMALL. Very small, so they don’t do much on their own- then only someone who’s super close and I’m aiming for and who gets a face FULL of them would really be blinded!”
Vaggie: “You’re so smart.”  
Charlie: “OH MY GOSH I COULD THROW GLITTER BOMBS!”
Vaggie: “That honestly sounds terrifying. I love it.”
Charlie: “HEHEHHEHEH.”
Charlie: (smooches her)
Charlie: “We’ll stay together in the fight so you can have front row seats to the light show, okay?”
Vaggie: "... we can try to..."
Charlie: "Will. We will stay together."
Vaggie: “… and, you’ll practice hard until then.”
Charlie: “I will!”
Vaggie: (lets out breath) “Then we’ll be okay. And also sparkly.”
Charlie: “Same thing~”
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dejwrites · 8 months
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( 𝟽𝟽𝟽 ) ⸻ pretty mouth, pretty girl !
before reading please be advised of the following — female reader, female antomy described, reader is black coded (descriptors included), modern au/non curse au, usage of spit, titty fucking, established relationship (reader & choso are dating), this fic belonged to another character but i gave it to my pookie, enjoy !
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The coolness of the silver rings that decorate his fingers touched his lips as he was in deep thought. He liked you. Correction, he was pretty sure he was in love with you.  He liked the way your tongue licked the wrapping paper when you two smoked in your favorite spot after a joyride on his motorcycle. He liked how you lathered your lips in whatever lip gloss was in your miniature purse that could only fit a piece of candy and probably about two other things. He enjoyed how you talked—your voice like a sweet tune on a Sunday morning. He enjoys the sun bouncing off your brown skin, giving it a perfect glow—like a spec of gold was sprinkled on it.
 Choso enjoyed how your coils fell in your face after a successful attempt at whatever hairstyle that had his oversized t-shirt you wore the night before drenched in water and hair products. He loved that you got along with his brother Yuji Itadori; former flings couldn’t tolerate the pinked-haired male. But you, you seem actually to be able to have a conversation with him—so any stamp of approval from Yuji was huge for Itadori. He can go on and on—create countless Apple notes checklists about what he liked, cherished, and loved about you. But nothing beats the one thing that had his cock twitching in anticipation.
The way you looked up at him when you were on your knees.
Your plush, plump lips are swollen from kissing. Your knees are bruised from the wooden floors below your body—Choso forgot to put a pillow down. But he was sure he’d put a bandaid and clean up the bruises late on, but right now, he wanted to focus on you. Your pretty manicured hands holding your tits tightly together with his cock wedged in between them. The lewd, wet sound of the spit he hawked down on them and the lube he found me in his nightstand was like music to his ears. His burning ears felt so hot that he could have been running a fever.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Choso whined while his hips bucked upward several times. He wanted to touch you some more badly, but if he did—he’d come so quickly.
“Like what?” You questioned as your mouth gasped open just in time for thrust forward in between your boobs and your tongue to brush against the slit on his pink-shaded mushroom-shaped tip. Being sure to let your tongue briefly brush against the silver hoop that created his Prince Albert piercing.
“Shit, I can’t wait to fuck you after this.” He grunted through broken whines as he increased the movement of his hips. He was bucking so recklessly that it was causing you to fall backward just a bit.
Your hand grasped at his toned thighs to stop him briefly, “Slow down! You’re going to make me fall.” You glance up at him through your eyelashes, and instantly his cheeks fade to a crimson color in not only humiliation but the fact that he is about to cum.
“I’m sorry. I told you to stop making that fuckin’ face, and you just do it.” Choso says, his teeth nip on his lower lip. If he could, he would bite his lip off in embarrassment.
“I can’t help it that my face makes you about to come,” You respond before you grasp at the bottle of lube that is next to your body. You opened it, lathering it between your tits, and now grasped upon them tighter. “Now, you might want to hurry before the others come over for game night.”
Shit, Choso was thinking so much with his dick that he forgot about the game night.
He didn’t respond to your words. He went back to thrusting his girthy cock in between your boobs. With each thrust, you’re trying not to let the grasp on your boobs go. With each thrust, Choso’s beautiful eyes are staring down at you and how you look. 
This was the look he was talking about. The way your teeth dig into your bottom lip as if letting him titty fuck you was the most important task that you must concentrate on. Or that on some thrusts, your tits are spilling apart in one hand because you were so eager to rub at your clit through your panties—he already knew you were soaked. Chaotic sexual activities like this always had your panties soaked. So soaked that they stuck to your pussy lips briefly when he dragged them down your legs.  
His finger grasped at the wooden nightstand next to his bed to gain some form of balance as his thrusting continued. His head fell back in a temporary bliss, and he could feel his cock twitch in anticipation. His thick cock being wedged between your perfectly sized tits was driving him insane. His body heat increased with seconds, and he tugged the graphic t-shirt up and brought the ends of it in between his teeth so he could get a better view.
“Continue that; I’m about to come, baby.” Choso coos softly. 
He could feel his balls grow heavy, and he knew that he was about to release a heavy load. The way that you knew him, his soul, and his body so well—you knew it too. Your hands grasp tighter at your boobs, and you begin to maneuver your body to match Choso's reckless thrusting between your boobs. He lets out a dragged-out slur of your name before he's a coming mess. 
Thick ropes of cum shoot out the tip of his cock, similar to water squirting out of a water gun. His hand gripped his cock as he angles himself to paint his canvas. You, his stunning girlfriend. You wait patiently—no desperately for his cum. His cum that he lets shoots all over your pretty face. His cum that drips down on your perky tits—just adding on to the mess that decorates your chest. 
The sight of his white-shaded cum imprinting your face probably became his favorite look. Especially seeing the sight of you letting your tongue drag alongside your lips to collect the liquor that splattered on your lips.
Maybe the game night for tonight can be postponed. 
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alucarddear · 8 months
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Position anon again, would you please write a NSFW alphabet for Alucard? Pretty please? 🥺
Alucard N S F W Alphabet*
I'm personally offended that I haven't done this for Lulu before. Anyway, rather than just spelling out his name, I'll give you the entire alphabet. Heh. This is LONG! Your thoughts and keyboard smashes are welcome. 🤭
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P.S. I go explicit and specific; read at your own risk. I also tried my best to keep it as gender-neutral as possible, so this is [Alucard x You]. However, I did have a little self-indulgent fun with W: wild card, the only section with an obvious she/her indication. Just so you know!
A: Aftercare (what they're like after sex)
Aftercare is not optional to this dhampir. It's a must. It doesn't matter if you had a quick romp or a long night, he'd still take the time to treat you right, especially if he'd been rather rough with you.
Forehead kisses, soft caresses, helping clean you up—you name it and he's got it covered. It's all about making sure you feel loved, appreciated, and cared for.
Alucard is not one to just up and leave or make you feel used. In fact, it's noticeable how much more he dotes on you after actually using you up good and fucking you raw into next week. 😏
B: Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and their partner’s)
Your neck. Let's not even pretend that Alucard doesn't gravitate towards it. As you ride him, he buries his face in the crook of your neck and nips and pecks at your throat. There's a part of him that wants to sink his fangs into you then and there and another that wants nothing more than to whisper sweet nothings against your skin as you throw your head back in bliss.
Alucard likes his hands—the way they're so large against yours; how perfectly your hands feel in his own. He likes his hands gripping your thighs or hips, his hand coming down to slap your ass, his hands caressing every inch of you. The way his hand closes around your wrist, encircling it completely as if it was made to do nothing but. The way he pushes you down with his hand on the small of your back as he prepares to take you from behind. Most of all, all of the things his hands can do to make you cum.
C: Cum (anything to do with cum)
Alucard's desire to spill his seed inside you is next to nothing sometimes. If you'd let him, he'd bury himself balls-deep and cum inside you each and every time.
He loves to make you cum, loves the way you sound—the hitching of your breath, your begging, the way you can barely keep yourself from shaking as he coaxes yet another orgasm out of you. He loves to praise you for it. "God, you're fucking beautiful," is something you hear often. It just never gets old.
D: Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)
Alucard loves when you allow him to bend you over whichever way he pleases. Loves how tiny and pliable you look underneath him, adjusting and propping your arms and legs as he sees fit. Just the sight of you like that, it's enough to push him over the edge.
So, you know he draws you—you are his muse after all. You've seen his sketches. But not the ones of your beautiful, naked body. Not even the tasteful pieces he draws as you sleep. Not the ones where, try as he might, he just can't replicate how utterly divine you look when he fucks you. He's a talented artist, but nothing tops the real thing.
E: Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Is he very experienced? No. Does he know what he's doing? Hell yes. His mother was a doctor and his father is a man of science. He lives in a castle full of resources. He has deep knowledge of biology—he's got the theory down pat. Sure, he fumbled a little the first few times, but he quickly learnt how you like to be pleased.
Besides, being a dhampir, Alucard is in tune with your body's responses to his ministrations. When you're intimate, he can practically feel your heart racing, dear. He knows when you're close, can tell when he's hitting it good, need I say more?
F: Favourite position (this goes without saying)
Mastery. He sits on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor to support you sitting on top of him with your legs bent on either side of him, your feet flat on the bed. This position allows you to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss. It lets you start off slow, very intimate—with you grinding against and riding him. Once you're a little tired (or he starts growing impatient), he simply grips your hips and pounds up into you until you're a screaming wreck. His grip on your hips and his feet securely planted on the floor allows him to rut into you fast. And the view? Fucking fantastic. He loves watching you come undone like this, seeing you throw your head back and expose your throat to him. Yes.
For a quick romp, you can't go wrong with doggy style. When you're in his study and you both get a little too distracted? He’ll bend you over his desk and have his way with you.
G: Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Oh, he's very serious about giving both of you a good time, alright. He might do something that makes you giggle, sure, but for the most part it's probably accidental and not his intention. Sex with Alucard can be intimate and sweet or downright animals humping in the undergrowth (👀), no in between. He's not here for the shits and giggles, darling.
H: Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
It does match. Maybe not all the time completely bare, but he keeps himself neat and tidy. Do you see his luxurious hair? He takes care of himself down there too.
I: Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Alucard loves to see you and hear you. He's considerate and goes out of his way to find what works for you. So much so he probably has ruined you for anyone else. You'll never find a more receptive lover; it’s time to accept that.
When you make sweet love, he whispers sweet nothings against your skin. He peppers kisses all over you and makes you feel like the most gorgeous being on the planet. He's not afraid to voice his thoughts out loud too, praising you and urging you on.
J: Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
You remember those naughty sketches of you? Yep. He has used them a couple times while you were away. You're in his thoughts whenever he touches himself.
K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Edging. He not-so-secretly loves it when you beg. How are you to know how much more you can take? He'll just have to show you.
When you moan his name as you grip the sheets and quake beneath him? Yeah. He loves it, especially when you can barely even make out the words for “Adrian, please, please, please.”
When you take control and ride him like your life depends on it, it does something to his brain. You on top, taking control and looking absolutely beautiful as you do so... he could cum just from the thought of it.
There is a part of him that likes the thought of cumming deep inside you and breeding you. Maybe it's that loneliness that sometimes nags at him, maybe he yearns for a family, but he can't lie this feels utterly divine.
L: Location (favourite places to do the do)
The bed is cliche, but it works and is comfortable. Your kitchen counter, desk, against the wall or a tree, table, or out at some secluded clearing by the lake... Alucard is truly not that picky, as long as you're not out in the public for other eyes to see and you’re both comfortable.
M: Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Your reactions and enthusiasm. Knowing you're into it just as much as he is.
When you sashay towards him, crooking your finger at him to beckon him closer? He's right there with you in a heartbeat.
When you wear his shirt and it swallows your smaller frame? It turns him on more than he lets on.
When you moan his name and gasp and writhe in pleasure. When you beg for him to take you harder, faster, and deeper. It just about short-circuits his brain.
N: No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Any form of bondage or restrictions to his movement. It brings up unnecessary trauma and makes him feel that he's not in control or safe. He is mostly a switch, sure, letting you take control and dominate too, but tying him up is just a no-go for him.
He won't transform into a wolf. It's practically bestiality, which he's not down for.
Somnophilia or any other act where consent can be dubious. He's just big on consent and trust, for obvious reasons.
O: Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He loves having absolute control over your pleasure, knowing it's him coaxing the sighs and moans and screams out of you. He enjoys how easily he can make you cum and drive you mad.
That said, he also loves watching you pleasure him, taking as much of his hard length as you can, especially whenever you greedily swallow his load.
P: Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
It really depends. Sex can be whatever it needs to be in the moment. While he loves nothing more than to take his time and make sweet love to you, he also loves ravaging you and leaving you utterly spent. It's satisfying either way.
The usual case is he begins slowly and sensually, but by the end of it (and sometimes without warning), he's rutting into you like his life depends on it.
Q: Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He isn't above having a quickie if that is all time permits, but he would really much rather have his way with you properly!
R: Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Given that he's a dhampir, he knows exactly how to go unseen or unnoticed. It's likely his risk assessment is much more honed. You might think you're being risky, but he is well aware of the chances of you getting caught in the act.
As for experimenting—other than his hard reservations (the ones listed in N), he is game to experiment and try different things you may be curious about as long as you both feel safe and comfortable about them.
S: Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He's a dhampir... need I say more? The chances of you exhausting him first is little. Sorry to burst your bubble. 😆 He's got stamina for days, honey.
T: Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Alucard is not above using toys to pleasure you. But what can a toy do that he can't do better? Hah. Chances are he will attempt to learn how it pleases you and try to replicate that with his own cock, mouth, and hands.
U: Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He can be such a little tease. You know the way he banters. That snark and sass can sometimes make their way inside the bedroom too.
"What was that, darling?" he'd ask, as if his amazing sense of hearing wasn't enough to register your begging as he edges you for the nth time. "Tsk. Patience, my love..." he would even dare chide you!
Alucard also loves to glide his fangs over your skin, just enough to leave a faint mark but not enough to draw blood.
V: Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He’s not shy to let you know he’s having a good time, but he’s also not overly loud. He gasps, moans, and curses, a tight-lipped “Fuck!” slipping out once in a while.
W: Wild card (a random headcanon)
He loves to praise you. His way of talking dirty is to let you know how good you feel around him. How ethereal you are, how perfect for him, how you taste so sweet.
He encourages you as he pushes you over the limit. “Yes, yes, darling, you can take it. Cum for me,” he would say. He’d place a kiss on your open mouth as you convulse around him as he rips yet another orgasm out of you. “My sweet darling,” he would groan, wiping the sweat off your brow. “How perfect you are. Good girl.” And just like that, he’s about to do it all over again. RIP. 😫
X: X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He’s active and it shows. He’s well built without being overly bulky. It suits him—muscular/toned yet elegant and lean.
He’s packing a just-about-above average penis, but nothing you cannot handle. The man’s over six foot, it just fits.
Y: Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Alucard is the type to yearn and pine, so set the volume level up cause he cannot get enough of you. Enough said.
Z: Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Sometimes you drift off to sleep together, but you usually fall asleep first.
He’s a night owl. He’d take you in his arms and stroke your hair as you sleep, admiring the way you glow under the moonlight, and wonder how he got so lucky to have found you. 🤍🌙
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minimomoe · 1 month
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K i l l i n g M e S o f t l y
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader
Summary: It's hard to compete with a ghost. Especially when that ghost was Toji Fushiguro's wife.
Wrd ct: 20k
tags: angstyyy, established relationship, complicated relationships, non curse au, vaginal sex, missionary, wall sex (?), oral sex (f receiving), breeding kink, DILF Toji, grief/mourning, Toji is trying to be a good dad to Megumi, Toji has a praise kink, mentions of mamagumi, open ending
Part One, Part Two
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Part One
Toji rolled over to your side of the bed to hold you closer to his body. He didn’t like how far away you strayed from him during the night. Naturally you both slept on your backs, however you stretched to all corners of the mattress while he slept stockstill. You managed to make it work, but Toji craved to have you in his arms even with your ever stretching tendencies.
Toji scooped you by the waist and dragged you to his side. 
“Mmm too close,” you mumbled, half asleep. You pushed his face away from the top of your head with no real strength. His grip only got tighter and  grumbled at your protest.
“Fucking impossible.”
A few minutes later Toji peeled one eye open to look at you. Your leg was draped around his waist, your fingers running over his chest idly. He thought you would’ve been snoring by now.
“What’s wrong?”
You popped your head up to look at him. You hand cupped his cheek and you smiled that lopsided grin he loved so much. It was like your face was loading up a smile, starting on one side before stretching over to the next. “Nothing’s wrong, baby. I just can't believe we’re living together now.” 
You have been living with Toji for a few weeks after a few months of dating. Before, your weekend stays extended into the workweek, with your growing side of the closet and personal items all around his house without you even realizing it. Toji felt more relaxed knowing that you were coming home to him, and you didn’t mind when he asked you to just…not go back to your place. 
“Everything you need is with me”, he used to say, and when you looked around  you found out that he was right. His place was even a closer commute to your job than your own was. Megumi, his son who was away for school, wasn't surprised to see the change when he came home to visit. He figured since you were the only woman he has actually seen his dad show interest in, it was bound to happen. Megumi liked you a lot, and he could tell that you were good for his dad. 
You and Toji fit each other like snug puzzle pieces. Different, but not incompatible. Toji enjoyed the way that you were always arm’s length away, that he could put his chin on your shoulder while you did mundane tasks. Or if he was feeling even more clingy, ask you to do whatever you needed to while you sat in his lap. He couldn’t do that nearly as much if you were still at your place. When you were away he would find himself humming a tune he had no idea where he got it from, until he heard you singing it softly in the shower. Or how he actually developed a semi-normal sleep schedule when you would stay up with him for multiple nights in a row just because you wanted to spend more time together.
 His personal favorite is seeing you walking around the house with nothing but his clothes on. Your thighs or shoulders exposed when you had only his t-shirts on. His sweatpants and hoodies drowning you in fabric. He’d imagined all the surfaces he could bend you over in, and then realized that he could make those daydreams a reality, and you let him. It might’ve been a major step taken quickly to others, but Toji felt like it was entirely needed. He loved you. 
You peppered his face with soft kisses that tickled his skin. You loved the high of his cheekbones, the flat strip between his eyebrows, the scar on his lip. Toji accepted your onslaught shower of affection until he turned his head to capture your lips, making you both fall into a deep kiss. His tongue hungrily slid into your mouth, and you shifted the rest of your body to lay on top of him. His hands ran up your legs, gripping your ass and massaging it while you started to grind yourself on his crotch. Toji knew immediately what you were trying to do.
“I thought you had work in the morning,” he grumbled. He usually wouldn’t give a damn, but it was so hard for you to get up in the mornings even with plenty of sleep. If you continued to rub up on him he would not be able to hold back for much longer. 
“I do,” you said in between kisses. You stamped your lips on his jaw, down the tendons of his neck, and gave kitten licks to his sternum. Toji never slept with a shirt on because he was always as hot as a furnace, so there were no interruptions for your mouth. You bit and sucked on his chest, thumbing his nipple, feeling it get hard under your touch and you flick the other one with your tongue. “Let’s do one quick round.”
“You said you were sore earlier today,” Toji remarked. He was already painfully hard from all your teasing. He didn’t bother removing your panties from your body, only scrunching the fabric covering your dripping sex to the side and eased two fingers inside of you. You sighed and lifted your hips so he could please you better while you palmed his length in his pants. Your eyes fluttered closed and you hummed. 
“I was but I feel better now. If we only do it once I'll be okay.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” He asked with a wicked grin. You smiled back at him, and he watched his cock disappear in your pussy slowly but surely. There was a soft glow in the room coming from the full moon hanging low outside of the bedroom window, but it was plenty enough to watch the soft curves of your body stretch and contract from your coupling. He watch you fuck yourself, the way you reached for his hands to steady yourself, the way your knees held his waist tighter while you swiveled your hips faster. Your eyebrows were drawn together, and your bottom lip was held between your teeth. 
Toji allows you to control the tempo. He liked to watch you use him and he shouldn’t push you too hard tonight. But when your breathy moans started to call out his name, and you opened your eyes back up to look down at him he felt his stomach flip around. You were dripping all over him and the bedding, and with that you reached to rub your clit. Toji took a sharp breath in. You clenched around him with every brush over your sensitive bud. You were really only after your own pleasure, grinding on him rather than riding, circling your clit faster. After letting go of your other hand, Toji guided your waist to have your hips to rock sensually on him. He moved your hand off of your sex, wanting to make you come himself and you slowed your speed to which he reprimanded you for. 
“Did I say to stop moving?”
“Toji, I’m gonna–” 
“Come for me,” he stated. His thumb applied a harder pressure on your clit. You shuddered, your fingernails digging into his skin and you threw your head back. Toji finally got up from his back and licked your exposed skin on your neck. His tongue ran over the bumps of tendons under the skin and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. Soft cries rang in his ears, making him fuck you from below faster. You muttered his name repeatedly in broken syllables that ended with your lips on his mouth. 
If you had your eyes open you could see the way he gazed at you falling apart in his arms. Toji would do anything to make sure that it was something that only he could view when you were ready to commit to forever. Sometimes it feels like you are so agreeable, never arguing when he takes the relationship to another level, so he had to remind himself not to be too pushy. He took it that you were just as happy as he was and had to reel himself back sometimes. 
Toji felt the sporadic pulse from your sex and knew that you were coming before you said it again. He silenced your wails with another kiss, drinking you quietly so you wouldn’t wake up Megumi even though he was across the house. Whenever you came he wasn’t too far off himself, and you still swiveled your hips through your high and coaxed him to fill you up. 
“Please, Toji? I need it inside.”
He huffed out a tight laugh. “You need it?” 
“Y-yesss. Give me what’s mine,” you ordered, and he was all too happy to oblige. You dropped your head in the junction of his neck, biting his shoulder when he came inside of you. You could feel him dripping out from the seams and you stayed wrapped around him to catch your breath. 
After five minutes of sitting in his lap Toji tried to remove himself from you but you protested. 
“Don’t move,” you whined. You almost fell asleep and it would be too jarring to separate now. 
“I need to clean you up,” Toji argued. You peeked your head out from under his jaw and complained again. “And now you only have six hours to sleep. You stop functioning when you have less than seven.” 
“You think you know me so well,” you tease. Toji hooked his arm around your waist and swung his leg over the bed, standing up with you still on his cock. You gasped loudly, every step he took to the bathroom sending shocks straight to your spot and stars bursted in your vision. 
Toji was trying to do the right thing, he swears, but when he sat you on the counter and your locked your legs around him, his original plan to clean you up got lost in translation, which meant he fucked you again until your face was tear stained. When you finally wore yourself out you only had five hours left to sleep. 
Just as expected, it was impossible to get you to wake up in the morning. You snored loudly until Toji nudged your cheek right at 6AM but got no response. He tried again, removing your face that was stuffed in his chest and rolling on your back. 
“I told you we should have gone to sleep earlier.” 
After the third round he had his hand on your neck and your calves on his shoulders, effectively flattening you into the bed. It was a great experience in the moment, one that you didn’t regret, but now you had to deal with the consequences. 
“Give me ten more minutes,” you muffled. 
“You said that last time and ended up being late. Come on, you have to get out of bed.” Toji tugged your ankle until you opened one eye at him. His hair fell over his eyebrows the same way it always did, his face in a slight frown . At this point you know that it’s his natural resting face. Always slightly disappointed but you know it was to hide just how much he cares. You let him take your foot in his lap and he massaged the balls of your feet. 
“I’ll make you breakfast. I don’t want to leave you and you slip under again.” 
“Yeah, I’m getting up,” you sighed. You shift out of his hold and finally put your feet on the ground. “I’m not going to be late again. I’m fine with anything you make for breakfast,” you said, kissing the top of his head as he was still sitting down on the bed and he pulled you back by your arm. 
“What kinda kiss was that?” 
You smile when he drags you down for a deeper kiss. His mouth was minty, showing that he’s already been up before you and you licked your lips when you separated. 
“That’s better,” he grumbled, then smacked your ass as you walked to the bathroom. 
You hopped into the bathroom, speeding through your morning routine to whirl into the closet for your work attire. You were lucky, you only needed to wear all black, and your personal style slowly morphed into it to make things easier for yourself. You quickly shimmied on a black maxi dress that subtly clung to your curves and a black knitted shrug to cover your shoulders. You went back to the bathroom, doing your makeup and keeping an eye on the time. After twenty minutes of measuring your eyeliner to make sure they were even, you gathered your purse, double checked your wallet and keys, then headed to the kitchen. 
Toji stood at the stove, sans his shirt, watching the eggs on the pan carefully. He was cooking them just the way you liked, sunny side up but only slightly runny. You creeped up behind him, slipping your arms around his waist and stamping your lips on his shoulder. Your lipstick left a mark on his skin that you smiled at. 
“There’s that bread you like in the toaster,” he informed you, opening the pot to check on the steamed eggs. 
“Mmm, thank you,” you said. The toaster popped up, and you grabbed a plate to set it on. He even mashed and seasoned an avocado to spread, along with thinly sliced tomatoes. 
“Is Megumi up? I’m gonna finish the whole thing if I don’t have to share,” you warned. 
Toji placed an egg on your sourdough slice over your tomato. You patted his cheek as another thanks. “The kid’s fine. He’s been eating oatmeal a lot lately.”
“Like father, like son,” you chuckled with your mouth full. You caught a glimpse of the time on the stove and nearly choked. Toji’s soothing hand was immediately on your back as you gulped down tea that was made for you. You winced at the taste, peering into the cup to see a golden liquid sloshing back and forth. “Is this chamomile?”
“Yeah,” He answered slowly. He watched as you got a glass of water to wash down the rest of your food, confused at your reaction. “Is it bad? Does tea ever expire?” 
“No. I just… I don’t like chamomile. And you don’t drink tea so I wasn’t expecting to find it here.” You took another huge bite of your food, trying to scarf it down to get out before you actually were late. 
Toji gave you an empty stare that made you slow your chewing. You looked down at your clothes and stared widely back at him. “What? Is there something on my face?”
“Shit, no, sorry. I have no idea why I thought it was your favorite. I bought it… for you.” 
You gave him an apologetic smile. To be fair, you never explicitly told him about it before, only that you liked chai. Little mistakes were bound to happen the closer you two got and you were rather excited for it. Soon you both would know all of each other’s idiosyncrasies. 
“It’s fine. No big deal, really. I’ll see you when I come back home, right?”
Home. It rolled off your tongue so easily it pulled Toji out of his head. He accepted the kiss you gave him on the cheek and took another one straight from your lips. 
“Yeah, I’ll be here. Want me to drive you?”
“Can’t let you do everything for me. I’ll become useless,” you laughed. “Okay, bye, seriously. Tell Megs I said good morning. I love you!” 
You were out of the door before he could say anything else, and the sound of your car starting up and getting farther away let him know that you left. Toji stared at the mug left on the counter, then at the tea box he used to make you the drink. Soft footsteps creaked down the stairs and Toji was quietly greeted by his son who mumbled a good morning. His bed head was even wilder than its normal style, the spikes separating into a million little parts. It looked like Megumi was struck by lightning. 
“Do you like chamomile?” 
Megumi blinked slowly, trying to understand the question his father asked him but it was taking a while to process. He squinted at the yellow box in Toji’s hand and shook his head as an answer. 
“What’s for breakfast?” 
There was only one other person in his life that he knew that drank chamomile. He has kept the memory of her locked deep inside of the crevices of his mind, but even Toji is susceptible to a Freudian slip. You may not have liked chamomile tea, but his late wife sure did. Toji cleared his throat before answering. 
“Oatmeal. There’s some egg on the stove if you want some.” 
Toji left his son alone after giving him breakfast. Usually the meals the two shared together were in a comfortable silence. They were two individuals who could enjoy each other’s presence without saying a word, and he loved that he could do that with his son. However, Toji was more drawn to the basement of his house than the company of Megumi.
Behind a heavy steel safe door there were some items worth locking away from both you and Megumi’s eyes, like weapons stacks of cash for emergencies, but even deeper inside the safe there was a ring in the far corner. The small gold band looked foreign to Toji as he rolled it between his fingers. He was a different man during then, someone who was blissfully happy and underestimated just how far the Zen’in clan would punish him for just existing. 
He saved up for two years to get her a ring. Two years of odd jobs and shitty ramen packets to buy what he really wanted. She said that it didn’t matter, that they didn’t need physical proof to show that they will always be together but he wanted the world to know. He’s always been prideful in that sense. Toji slipped the ring on his finger and the cool metal sent a chill down his spine. Such a familiar feeling, yet it felt like a lifetime ago. 
“Hey Dad, I’m gonna head out! Me, Yuuji, and Nobara are going to the movies and then walking around the mall.”
“Yeah, go ahead. Call me when you get there,” Toji shouted back. 
“What are you doing down there?” Megumi asked, and Toji heard his footfalls coming down the stairs. He gently placed the ring back in its corner and locked the safe once again. 
When Megumi reached the bottom Toji looked like he just grabbed cleaning supplies. A bucket, mop, and a bottle of bleach filled his hands and Megumi was relieved. 
“Stop snooping on me kid unless you want to help.”
“I’m good. See you later?” Megumi was already halfway up the stairs. 
“Call me when you get there. And I mean call me, not text. I need to make sure it’s you,” Toji yelled after him. 
“Stop nagging, I’ll call.”
Toji has his son back. He’s managed to find someone that he loves once again. Today was a little blip, something that could easily be fixed. He didn’t need to dwell on the past. When he left the basement, Toji didn’t look back to think about the what ifs.
~~
Toji mixed up facts with you and his wife a total of five times before you started to question it. He grimaced after each supposed favorite or dislike of yours wasn’t really yours, and when the flash of confusion swept over your face it was like a punch to his gut. 
“Is my sister feeding you the wrong information on purpose?” You joked, but the laugh was strained. Something’s were stuff that you had mentioned, multiple times before, and you know that Toji has a great memory. Toji would apologize and make up for the mistake by spoiling you with one gift or another, but it still gnawed at him. He needed to get it together.
Despite Toji’s better efforts to focus on you better, memories of his wife pushed to the forefront of his mind, even sleep couldn’t save him. When the weather unexpectedly drops he’s reminded of how much he misses his wife. 
But the cold doesn’t hold any good memories for Toji Fushiguro. When the weather changed, he kept his head low and his hands shoved in his pocket when walking outside to ignore the frost that reminded him of some of the worst nights of his life. Perhaps it started when he was dumped in a punishment pit at the young age of 5 for standing up against his uncles’ cruel insults about his late mother while it was freezing cold, so cold that the blood from his busted lip glued his mouth shut despite the hot tears running down his face. Or maybe it was the memory of giving up his son in a moment of weakness. 
Toji remembered leaving agreement with puffs of his breath wafting in front of him like little ghosts, and he swore he saw the face of Megumi in one of them while he tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter. That nothing mattered.  But Toji knew the reason, the main reason why he hated the cold. It haunted his dreams whenever he thought that he would finally get a restful night of sleep, replaying itself over and over again in his mind until he avoided sleep altogether, opting to stay dead on his feet than to enter his own personal hell. 
Right now Toji knew that he was in his bed sleeping deep in his home, very far removed from the event yet still… still he was reminded of his greatest failure. Awake in the dream he saw sticky, gray snow and the night sky. It was all he could see for miles on end, falling quietly like a whisper of death. Crisp cold air filled his lungs, dried his tongue, watered his eyes. It was a dream and he knew it, because this scene has played out before. He knows how this ends and he doesn’t want to participate. Toji screws his eyes shut and opens them again, but still the snow falls.
There’s a light on the horizon. It started small, a little pinprick of a blinding stream that shone directly in his eye, and it called for him. It called his name in a voice that clenched his heart and twisted it out of his chest. The voice was weak, confused, scared . It begged, she begged, Toji’s wife begged for him. She was in pain, Toji could hear the quivering in her voice. She was unable to complete a full sentence without her voice giving out to broken pleas. 
The beam grew in size, beckoning as he had been lost at sea for a very long time now, a ghost ship with no passengers. He ran as fast as he could, his arm outstretched to catch the light that filled his soul and the wind whipped his face. The snow slowed him down, swallowing his feet until he was heaving his legs out of it knee deep, but that wouldn’t stop him. She was just at the end of the road. He could see her again and that was enough for him to keep trying even if the ending was always the same. 
Toji collapsed in the frigid earth. The light was gone, her voice swarmed all around him, and the snow was no longer white. The sheet of white at his feet was broken by something far more sinister. Crimson blood bloomed with her voice growing louder, terrified of what’s to come. Toji’s fingers felt raw from scooping the snow up like a madman. He was shivering and sweating and crying all at the same time, desperate to finally get her back. He dug until he reached soil and dug further. They promised themselves to each other at their wedding, yet he was still here without her. His wife’s blood on his hands that bled for her painted the snow until it lost all purity and he was left alone with her coffin, reminded once again how he was too late. He couldn't change anything this time and he never will. He stared at the coffin, the snow covering it in a blanket, slowly undoing all of his work. 
Toji did not wake up with a start, however he refused to open his eyes when he woke, because the white ceiling above him would remind of how the snow falls. It did nothing to stop the tears that escaped. Always so perceptive when it comes to him you woke because of the shift of energy, immediately trying to see what was wrong. You hovered over Toji’s face, gently wiping away his tears and tried to coax him awake.
“Toji? Baby? Talk to me. It’s just a dream,” you murmured. As tired as you were you wanted to make sure he was alright. Toji peeled his eyes open and your face filled his frame. You squinted down at him, still being dragged down with sleep, and you frowned slightly. “This is your third nightmare this week. What’s wrong?”
An innocent question. The answer would break you if he said it out loud. Instead he wrapped his arms around your body and rolled over, resting his entire weight on top of you and buried his face in your neck.
“M’fine. You need to sleep.”
You were doubtful. Toji was deflecting again, but you didn’t know how else to get him to confide in you. He adjusted your arms so that they wouldn’t go numb under him and rested his head again, clearly closing the conversation before it even started.
“ We need to sleep, and you can tell me anything, Toji. I mean it. I’m always here for you. I love you.” 
Such a sweet girl. How Toji got blessed with people like you was with all shit he’s done was beyond him. He lifted his head up to look at your face, pushing your bonnet off of your eyebrows to look at you fully. You waited expectantly, hopefully. Toji sighed and touched his forehead with yours. 
“I only have one regret in my life. It costed someone’s life, and I don’t know why the fuck it’s on replay these days but it’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“Is it your wife?” You whispered. “I don’t mind talking about her if it helps you.” 
He sucked a sharp breath in, his eyes screwed shut. The floodgates were open, and he couldn’t get them to close again. If he shut the conversation down right now it would shit on the attempt you made to be understanding towards him, but was it the last thing he wanted to talk about with you. His dead lover to his new lover. What a twisted joke.
A knot filled with all the things he wants to say but can’t grew in the back of his throat, making it hard to breathe. “Yeah.” 
“Losing someone is hard, I know that much. If your anniversary is coming up, the memories are gonna keep coming back. Don’t feel like you need to suppress them because I’m here. Be honest to yourself, go through the motions, and come back to me when you're ready.”
Toji felt overwhelmed with emotion, not really sure which one he wanted to point out. He nodded, his head moving yours, then gave you a kiss. It was tentative at first, unsure if it was the right thing to do, then Toji got greedy, drinking you hungrily until you were panting. Your fingernails scraped his nape, tugging his hair to get him off of your mouth so he went for your neck instead. 
“T-toji,” you whimpered. Your voice sounded too close to hers and it made him freeze. He stared at you like a deer in headlights. He snapped out of it himself, imagining how he must’ve looked to you and shook his head.
“Sorry. C’mere.” 
He held you in his arms laying on your side, being the big spoon for once since you have been sleeping together. You stretched your fingers across his bicep, and you couldn’t help but to wonder who he really saw while kissing you.
The nightmares didn’t stop. In fact, they got worse, often waking you up later and later into the night, and it would take a while to wake Toji out of them. Your body suffered because of it, your coworkers commenting on how dead on your feet you looked and often sticking you in the back to retrieve dresses than to subject customers to your constant yawning. 
Toji started to sleep in the living room because of it. You were being overly considerate, not telling him how much of a toll he was taking on your body but he could see it. The deep eye bags, the slow reactions, the half smiles. This was something he needed to get through alone. He’d wake up shivering in the dark even with the blankets you snuck over to lay over him. 
One night he rose from the snow to find you on the other end of the couch sleeping. Your legs tangled up with his under blankets, and he gently tried to remove himself to not wake you. There was only ten minutes left before your alarm was supposed to go off, so Toji spent that time staring at your face. He squatted on the floor beside you, ghosting the planes of lips until it was time.
“What are you doing here?” He asked after rubbing the bridge of your nose enough for you to wake up. You groaned, twitching your nose like a rabbit then sighed. 
“Bed’s too big without you,” you mumbled. “It feels like we’re fighting.”
“We are not fighting.”
“I know that. It still feels that way.”  You stretched and threw your arm over your eyes. With your other hand you grabbed Toji’s hand and rested it over your chest. “Do you think… Have you tried therapy? Professional grief counseling?” 
Toji stilled, and the air became frigid. You bit on your lip nervously, but that was why you threw your hand over your eyes. You didn’t want to see his reaction if you did overstep. 
“I don’t need that. It’ll be over soon.” “But–”
“I’m fine,” Toji said in a warning tone.
“Look, all I’m saying is that it might help if you–”
“Is there something wrong with your bed? Why are you both here?” 
Megumi interrupted the conversation and Toji was grateful for it. Megumi looked at the both of you rubbing his eyes. 
“Nothings wrong. We were just talking but we all have stuff to do today so let’s get to it.” Toji held out his hand for you to use to get up, and just like that, the channel of conversation was closed.
“Gumi, is this your last day before you have to head back to school?” You asked before he walked into the kitchen. 
“Stop calling me that,” he grumbled, but nodded. You were the only person who ever called him that, and while he hid his blush from you, his ever perceptive father snorted. 
“I’ll make us dinner then,” you smiled. “There’s nobody else who will tell me obscure animal facts at random intervals.” “I could do that for you,” Toji mumbled, his hand still holding yours.
 “They're not as cool as Megs’, sorry.”
You could play this game. Keep the mood light and airy even though Toji’s behaviour weighed heavily on your heart. It was the only thing you could do given his reaction. You let go of his hand to get started on your morning while he talked to Megumi some more, and you noticed a golden ring on the bathroom counter. Immediately you knew it was Toji’s, as it was too large to be a surprise for you, and gingerly you picked it up. You held it up to the light, looking at it at all dimensions and noticed an inscription on the inside. A date, a time well before you, and if you had to guess, Toji was in his early twenties when it was engraved. Young to be married, but who could stop two people in love? 
You placed the ring back where you found it and washed your face harshly. You knew Toji had a life before you, there is no reason to get jealous over that. Whatever happened to her, it must’ve been terrible if he kept on having nightmares about it. That’s what you repeated in your head over and over again when you came back out to breakfast waiting for you with Megumi and Toji sitting at the breakfast bar. You were someone different before you met him too, it was only fair. You can’t hold it against him or his late wife, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. When Toji kissed your temple you tried to keep your face pleasant, carefully hiding the tumultuous waves of feelings stirring in your chest. 
You took only the bagel he laid out for you and calmly walked to the door. As expected, he called out for you. 
“That’s all you’re going to eat?” 
You turned around to give him a small smile. “It’s that time of the month. I really don’t feel like eating a lot right now. Hopefully I’ll be hungry for dinner.” 
“Eat something before then,” he said. He opened the garage door for you and walked you to your car. 
Seated inside, you started up your car and Toji stood beside you, waiting for you to roll down your window.
“Gonna leave without a goodbye?” 
“Of course not,” you said. You gave him a kiss, one that was longer than you intended because a kiss could never be short and sweet with him. Toji wasn’t satisfied until your lipstick stained his mouth and smudged out of your lips. 
“I appreciate what you do for me,” he confessed unexpectedly. “Don’t forget that.”
You nodded, holding back the tears that threatened to spill all over your face. He cupped your chin and kissed you one last time. “I love you.” 
That was something that didn’t leave Toji’s mouth very often. The words were hard to form on Toji’s tongue, not because he didn’t believe in them, but it wasn’t something that he heard very often growing up. Trying to give what he rarely had himself was an impossible task at times, but he knew how much you needed to hear those words. 
“Fuck you Toji, you always know how to make me cry,” you laughed, dabbing your eyes. “I love you too. Now please, don’t make me any more emotional. I want to be stable when I get to work.”
Toji pressed his lips on your forehead and let you drive off, and you felt a little better after finding the ring. Toji loves you . That’s all the confirmation you needed. 
With the day being so slow at work you were excited to go back home and prepare dinner. Toji usually took care of all the meals, finding it easier to just make the cravings of you and Megumi rather than ordering in, and he turned out to be pretty good at it. That is, after you got him to stop caring about the calorie count of everything. You were spoiled rotten because of his cooking, so it would feel nice to exercise your own skill in the kitchen. 
You came home a little earlier than usual, and it surprised Toji who was on the phone with somebody when you waltzed in. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss on the top of your head, holding you while he talked on the phone. 
“Sukuna, stop calling me about bullshit like this. I will change my phone number,” he threatened into the phone. You released a silent snort. He hung up the phone and dropped his full weight on your shoulders, his chin digging on your head and his arms dragging down your shoulders. 
“Toji!”
“Need help with dinner? We should probably go grocery shopping,” he thought out loud, ignoring your complaints. 
“I was thinking about that. You’re gonna come with me?”  
“Duh. Let’s go,” he said, and you could feel him smiling. You quickly changed into more comfortable clothing, matching the monochromatic sweats Toji was wearing. You took his car, and you sat comfortably in the passenger seat while he manned the vehicle. He listened to you babble about your day, holding your thigh and eventually your hand the entire ride until you got to the store. 
“I really am going to miss Megumi. I like having him around the house,” you sighed. You walked beside Toji as he pushed the shopping cart around. You grabbed staples that needed to be in the fridge already, and now you were looking for desert to settle on. 
“The kid’s gonna be fine.”
“Just say you’re gonna miss him.”
You strolled in front of chocolate cakes. You pointed at one, and Toji shook his head. 
“He can still visit. It’s only a train ride away.” He reached for a box of pie and you turned it down. He rolled his eyes but placed it back down. 
“And he’s gonna miss you too. You guys are just cute little mirrors of each other. You know what? I can just make brownies. He likes that, right?” “You don’t even cook for me this much,” Toji grumbled. 
You patted the side of his face. “You’ll be okay, I promise.”  
After checkout you both loaded the car up and headed back home. You sang quietly to the songs playing on the radio, and everything about early morning events slowly escaped your mind. Back in the house you divided the work, you brought in the bags that had the ingredients you needed to cook and Toji brought in everything else. Times like this are when Toji and you fell into a comfortable routine. No words needed to be shared but he felt connected to you in a way that he hasn’t felt in years. It was the domesticity he constantly craved and he relished in it. 
Toji aided you in any way you needed, making preparation of the food go faster. Before both of you knew it Megumi was back from spending the day out when you were placing dishes on the table with a beaming smile. You were so proud of yourself, and Megumi scanned the table with slight surprise. 
“I’m just one person,” he said sheepishly. 
“I might’ve gotten a little bit carried away, but that’s just because I’m gonna miss you so much,” you smiled. “Go on, wash up and we’ll eat.”
You cared for Megumi like he was your own son and Toji couldn’t be anymore grateful for that. Since fixing his relationship with Megumi, Toji had put his needs in front of all others, including other romantic partners. You had understood that from the beginning and made a conscious effort to know the young boy not just to get on Toji’s good side, but because you understood that Megumi is his own person who has real thoughts and needs. It just so happened the more that Megumi accepted you, the more Toji let you in his life. 
While sharing breakfast was common in the house, sharing dinner was less so. Everybody was busier later in the day, often eating out or warming up leftovers to scarf down. Now the table was filled with your jokes and Megumi and Toji’s laugh, he realized that you were right. He was going to miss his son being around all the time. It was going to be moments like this that would creep up on him in the future, reminding him of how warm everything was if he didn’t appreciate them now. 
An unfamiliar name to your ear slipped from Toji’s mouth in response to something you said, making him freeze and he prayed that you didn’t hear it. It was a mistake, an thoughtless, grave mistake that could ruin the night that you three were having. He meant to say your name, he was holding your hand. Your smile faltered, and Megumi gave a weary glance over to his dad. 
“Who?” You asked quietly, but the look on Toji’s face gave you all the answers you needed. It was the first time that you have ever heard her name. It was pretty, but the context made you sick. You laughed a humorless laugh staring down into your plate. Toji’s apologies did not reach your ears. Megumi called out to you, but your throat was too tight to respond. Slipping your hand out of Toji’s you cracked your knuckles slowly, each pop echoing in the room. 
“Are… are you all packed up, Megs?” You changed the subject. You didn’t need Toji’s ghosts becoming yours, ruining the moment that you were having. 
“Y-yeah. Just last minute stuff like toothbrushes and stuff is left.”
You nodded robotically. “That’s good. I, uh, I wanted us to watch a movie but it’s already getting so late. Are you done eating? I’ll clean up so you can get a good rest tonight.”
Megumi got up from his seat with his empty plate in hand. “I can help! I don’t mind, really.” 
Toji reached for your hand again and failed miserably when you reeled back. “Wait–”
“Thanks Megs, I’m just gonna put them in the dishwasher if you want to help me with that.” Your voice was tight, a telltale sign of tears about to fall. 
“I didn’t mean–” 
“Could you give me and Toji a second first?” 
“Yes,” Megumi said, scrambling out of the way. Once you heard his feet upstairs above you you let out a shaky breath. You pushed yourself up out of your seat, and Toji stood up quickly beside you. He had no idea what to expect. He would take you screaming at him over the crushing silence he had to endure. 
“I’m sorry,” he offered first. He sincerely meant it, unsure of how else to express his remorse in the moment. “Look at me… please.” 
“You need help. I’m not trying to insult you, or emasculate you, or anything like that, but you. Need. Help .” Your voice wavered. You faced Toji, and the sight broke his heart. He often teased you about crying so easily, but he never wanted to be the cause of it. Heavy tears brimmed your waterline and your lips quivered. 
“I’ve been trying to ignore this but it’s getting to be too much, Toji. Do you even see me?”
“Of course I see you,” he promised. He cupped your face and the tears started to fall, and he brushed them away with his thumb. You vehemently shook your head and got out of his hold. 
“You don’t. You see her. Everything is about her. I don’t want to be a replacement for your wife,” you sobbed. You took a step back and put your hand over your mouth. You caught your breath, and Toji’s heart raced at what you could possibly say next. 
“I’m going to clean now.”
“Let me he–”
“Please don’t. Megumi already is. He’s probably listening in.”
So this is how it felt to be shut out. Something that Toji often did to you out of habit did not feel too nice to be on the other side of. It actually felt fucking horrible. Toji didn’t push any further, afraid of causing anymore damage and left you alone in the dining room. Megumi stood at the top of the stairs, cursing and barely ducking out of sight just like you predicted. 
“I saw you, Megumi,” he called out. “You’re free to help her out now.”
Megumi walked out, looking at his dad straight on. A silent message was shared between them and Toji dropped his head. 
“Fix this soon,” Megumi said when he passed his dad, and that’s the only thing anyone said to Toji for the rest of the night. 
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Thanks for reading!! Lemme know your thoughts
Part Two
M.list || Twitter || Ao3
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moonstrider9904 · 3 months
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Don't Blame Me
This one shot is for the Bad Batch Prompt event using the prompt:
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck me yourself, you coward.”
Pairing: Crosshair x Fem!Reader
Tags: 18+ strictly. Minors should not interact with this or any of my writing pieces as they are content for adults only. Smut, sexual tension, foul language and swearing, oral (female receiving) sex, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, flirting.
Playlist: Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift
@arctrooper69 Tagging you right here :D
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A night like that one was much too rare. The sun had just finished going down beneath the horizon, and the faintest hue of blue still lit the sky while the stars had already begun their nightly dance. The breeze was warm on your skin, even with the drops of water that lingered on you as you sat at the edge of the pool with your feet and calves still in the water, your hands running down your wet hair as you sighed and took in the life of the moment. The speakers played chill tunes, easy to listen to, perfect to vibe with the summery air and the laughs coming from all around the pool.
You looked around and smiled at the fact that all of your favorite troopers were there, and even some you hadn’t seen before—probably shinies who had just joined their platoons. Boys from the 501st, 212th, hell, even the 99s had bothered to come to a summer pool night on Naboo for their shore leave.
You couldn't help but laugh and think you’d seen it all when, across the pool, you saw that silver-haired sniper taking a sip from a bright cocktail. And his eyes were on you too, glaring, but you were used to that. You shot a cheeky grin at Crosshair only for him to roll his eyes and look away.
Your gaze remained on him for a little longer until you heard somebody diving into the pool, and when you looked at the crystalline water lit by the warm bulbs submerged in it, you quickly realized it was Fives as he emerged from under the water running his hands up his face and towards the back of his head, brushing the hair away. In that pose, Fives opened his arms and flexed, showing off his biceps as he shot you his signature charming grin, winking at you.
“These babies have gotten bigger since the last time I saw you, sweetheart,” Fives beamed.
Laughter escaped you—as much as you adored Fives, his attempts at flirting were always a sight to behold. Something about young, handsome soldiers tripping over their feet for your attention made you wish all summer nights were like that one, and to follow along with Fives’ game, you crossed one leg over the other, planted your hands firmly on the ground at your sides and shrugged, pursing your lips together.
“I don’t know, they kinda look the same to me,” you teased him.
“Don’t listen to him,” you heard the voice next to you as Jesse took a seat beside you only to fully get into the pool and swim over next to Fives, adopting his same pose. “I actually think I pull it off better, and I only lift half as often as he does. It’s like I don’t even have to try.”
“Oh, shut up!” Fives yelled, grinning mischievously as he brushed his hand and forearm over the water’s surface in Jesse’s direction, splashing him.
“That’s how you wanna do it, you runt?” Jesse played along and began splashing back.
As if that gesture were a galactic beckoning for the clones, the pool almost instantly became filled with troopers wanting to partake in the splash battle. You giggled as you watched them splash and wrestle playfully—the scene in front of you was probably the best definition of “boys being boys.” You loved it, and laughter wouldn’t stop leaving you. For the duration of that night, you hadn’t enjoyed anything more than what was currently playing out in front of you.
However, across the pool, the same pair of piercing amber eyes glared past the scene and into you, but you weren’t taking notice of that anymore.
It only took a few seconds for the clones’ splash war to no longer be about you, and the water flying in from multiple directions was beginning to get out of hand. Wiping a couple of drops that had fallen near your eyes, you got up and made your way towards the chair where you’d left your things. You slipped your feet into your sandals, smiling at the sound of the racket behind you blending with the music, and then you took the cream-colored shawl you’d taken to the party and wrapped it around your hips in a makeshift skirt. You were in the mood for a drink now, but while the water wars ended, you figured you’d hit the powder room to adjust your suit.
Crosshair watched you from where he stood, his eyes following your silhouette as you walked from the pool to the lounge. Every time your right leg came forward, your skin was exposed by the edges of the fabric wrapped around your hips, offering him a teasing glimpse of your thigh. He picked up on the sway of your hips, the delicate left and right of every step that you took, partnered perfectly with your hands coming back and forth in tandem with your stride. As you walked past the chairs and the tables, Crosshair took in how gracefully your hair framed your face, as well as how perfectly the top of your bathing suit framed your breasts and the top half of your belly, letting him see the skin just above your belly button only for the smoothness to stop just above your womb, where the shawl began.
Fuck. He suppressed a groan. Did you even have any idea how sensual you looked? Clearly you didn’t, why else would you waste yourself on all those amateurs trying to impress you with a basic flex and a splish-splash of water?
You’d made it to the common mirror just outside the restrooms and looked at your reflection in the flattering warm lighting. You combed through your hair using your fingers, trying to achieve a carefree look, a blend between messy and done that seemed right for the night. When you were done with that, you eased a few creases on the fabric of your shawl and tightened the knot—you didn’t want that getting loose on accident—and you smoothed out the top of your bathing suit as well. Once you were ready to head back out into the party, you turned around and began making your way where you came from. Your thoughts on what cocktail you were gonna get were interrupted by a tall, lean silhouette dressed in black coming into view. The sight of those amber eyes made you stop in your tracks, and you couldn’t help the little grin that appeared on your lips.
“Look who finally decided to socialize,” you teased him.
Crosshair scoffed, his eyes looking aside as he did. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wouldn’t waste my time or energy with you.”
You placed your hands over your heart, faking a heartache. “Must you hurt me so?”
“I’m not particularly happy with you,” Crosshair crooned.
You giggled. “You’re never happy with anyone. And you of all people have no reason to hold anything against me, you never even let yourself open up to me.” Your gaze softened and you took a step towards him, holding your fists behind your back and pouting up at him. “Why won’t you let me in, Crosshair?”
Again, he rolled his eyes. “I didn’t come here for this.”
“Something tells me you did,” you answered. “Here I am, what do you want with me?”
“Nothing,” Crosshair nearly spat the word out.
You raised a brow. No one in that party could deny how insightful you were, not even him.
Crosshair scoffed again. “Fine, I’ll bite.”
“Please do,” you couldn’t resist the urge to say.
“Maybe I didn’t like the way the others were making fools out of themselves for your attention,” Crosshair glared. “It was pathetic to watch.”
“Ah,” you crossed your arms, nodding slowly. “So you’re jealous.”
“Fuck, no,” Crosshair smirked. “I just wouldn’t be caught dead being a complete idiot like that.”
“So you aren’t jealous?” You smirked back.
“No.”
“Then why do you look like you’re about to stab someone?” Your smirk widened.
You’d cornered him, and Crosshair hated that. He was used to always having the upper hand, the higher ground, to being on top of everything. Nothing could ever surprise him, and when it did, it only meant he’d screwed up. The fact that you had just done that in the most leisurely of settings made him want to puke.
“Forget this,” he said, his silhouette beginning to turn around.
“I didn’t take you for the type to run away, Crosshair,” you said as your hands went over to your hips and you shifted your weight onto your left side, emphasizing the curves of your silhouette.
Crosshair faced you again, his gaze darkening at the little pose you’d adopted. You noticed his eyes running down your body, but when they met yours again, his gaze hardened.
“Fuck you,” he said, without hesitating.
You scoffed, looking at him from head to toe as well. “Fuck me yourself, you coward. I’d like to see if you can.”
He scoffed, his thin lips curving into a smile as he made his way towards you painfully slowly. Hovering in front of you, he took his fingers up to your chin, tilting your face up, making your breath hitch despite your witty exterior.
“You better be damn serious about that, doll,” Crosshair purred with hungry eyes.
“What, did I stutter?” Your breath shook as you whispered, and your hand snaked up his abdomen and felt his chest over the black shirt he wore. “What other way do I have to tell you I want this?”
The hand that was on your chin traveled back and down to cup the side of your neck, firm, but never hard enough to hurt you. Crosshair’s fingertips rested gently on your nape, and his other hand went up and joined the first in perfect symmetry. He pressed his body closer to yours, never breaking eye contact with you, and your heart beat so fast you were afraid he’d be able to hear it through your chest. He was devastatingly handsome, looming over you, watching you with lustful eyes foreboding passion. It didn’t matter where you were. It didn’t matter if there were people outside—they were enjoying their own night, they didn’t have to be involved in what only concerned you and Crosshair. All that mattered was the sensation of his hands on your skin, your hands over his chest, and the heat beginning to boil low in your stomach.
You half-expected another snarky remark, another sneer coming from Crosshair just to test the waters, but you basked in the mercy of the satisfaction that came when Crosshair finally crashed his lips down on yours. He stepped towards you and you stepped backwards, stumbling into the bathroom for him to lock the door behind him when you were both already inside. The music continued to boom from the party outside, as did the cheers and the laughter from everyone blissfully ignorant of the fire catching between you and the marksman. You didn’t have to worry about being heard.
You blindly walked backwards with your fists tugging at Crosshair’s shirt, your mind swarming with the concept of him as he devoured your lips with luscious kisses and mischievous nibbles. You felt your back bump into the wall next to the sink, and he pressed you onto it, letting you feel the erection growing under his pitch-black boxer bathing suit. You whimpered at the hardness and let your hands travel up his chest and around his shoulders until the tips of your fingers found his silver hair, which you twirled and tugged hoping to get a sound from him. Crosshair pleased you by letting out a low grunt and grew more passionate with every tug you gave to his hair.
One of the hands that was on your neck traveled down to your waist and kneaded your flesh with his fingertips, freeing your neck for him to take his kisses down to that sensitive skin he so badly wanted to mark. You shuddered when you first felt Crosshair suck on your neck, and you were astounded at his ease to find your sweetest spot. He nibbled and sucked such that you were certain there would be a maroon mark on your skin, and you enjoyed every second of it. You were enjoying the idea of coming out of that bathroom with that mark on your neck for everyone to see, and something told you Crosshair would get a kick of it as well, parading you in front of everyone else to show them how it’s really done.
When he was finished with your neck, Crosshair moved down your body leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles whilst feeling every inch of your body he could, including your hardened nipples over the fabric of your swimsuit, until he was on his knees in front of you. His hands greedily squeezed the flesh of your buttcheeks as he focused his kisses on your lower abdomen, just above the line where your shawl and the bottom of your bathing suit began. Unwilling to wait much longer to finally taste you, Crosshair curled his fingers around your bathing panties and pulled them down your legs with ease. You stepped out of them for him to hand them to you for you to hold in one hand, and when your other hand went to undo your top, he was quick to stop you.
“No, doll,” Crosshair purred. “You’re keepin’ that on.”
You giggled at him in response, and by his actions, he didn’t intend for you to remove that shawl either. Part of you would have preferred for Crosshair to have already been shirtless at this point, but any sort of thought faded when Crosshair took one of your legs and wrapped it around his back—it was only until then you became aware that your aching cunt was finally exposed to him.
Crosshair split the fabric of your shawl and placed it over your hips to keep it out of the way; he held your butt with one hand to keep you steady while he used his index and thumb fingers on his other hand to lift the hood of your clit. Your mind barely had a second to ponder on the fact that he knew what he was doing, and when you felt his tongue begin to brush over the pearl of your clit, your whole world faded. A deep moan escaped you, and your head fell back to the wall as your chest heaved at every sensation Crosshair gifted you with. You slipped farther from sanity and nearer into bliss, feeling he’d tip you over the edge in an obscenely small amount of time.
Switching between luscious kissing and precise sucking, Crosshair turned you from confident temptress to whimpering mess, pleased at the idea of having you at his mercy. Your moans grew louder and more desperate, and your hand reached down to find his hair again, twirling and tugging at his beautiful silver locks. You drew a moan from Crosshair, and its vibrations resonated deep within your flesh, finally finishing you off. Your already helpless moaning turned into pleading mewls as the pleasure that focused on your clit exploded into beautiful flames invading every corner of your body. Your muscles tensed as you squirmed, knowing it was only Crosshair’s grip keeping you upright. You were oblivious to the amount of times you whimpered his name, you only had the headspace to rut your hips against him, as if you weren’t feeling enough mind-erasing pleasure already.
You wanted more. You wanted his fullness, his touch. You wanted him.
Crosshair emerged from between your legs as if he were coming up for air after a long swim. You were dazzled, panting in the aftermath of every wave of pleasure you’d just felt, but you managed to look down and see him smirking proudly. Crosshair grunted as he stood up, towering over you again, and just when you were beginning to make sense of the world around you again, you saw him pulling down his bathing shorts to reveal a long, hard erection waiting just for you.
You couldn’t help but moan at the sight, making him chuckle with pride.
“Got room for some more?” Crosshair asked.
You nodded frantically, and without hesitation, Crosshair firmly grasped your ass and lifted you, resting part of your weight on the sink beside you. You clung to him, needily wrapping your legs around his waist, and he could only hum at the sight, pleased. After the painful wait, you finally felt Crosshair sliding himself into you, hissing at the initial stretch of your flesh only for you to moan when it became the most incredible sensation you’d ever experienced.
And Crosshair took it from there. Holding you firmly, he took care of every movement. Your arousal made it easier for him to slip in and out of you at whatever speed he desired, and you could tell he wasn’t planning on putting anything off. He was quick, accurate, decisive, grunting low and seductive into your ear with every few thrusts into your hips. Your nails clawed into his upper back, moaning deeply as you tightened your legs around him as much as you could, and it heightened the sensations you felt.
As he continued to fuck deep into you, Crosshair made eye contact with you for a moment, his cocky exterior suddenly becoming caring, even soft. The thought of your prior conversation entered your mind—how long had he felt that way for you? How long had you been suppressing your own desires for him?
Now that you were in his arms, feeling all the pleasure he could give you, you were certain you were where you needed to be.
A tender moan of his name escaped you just before you felt the pleasure expand through your body again. The moans induced by this second orgasm were far louder and embarrassingly more lustful than those of the first, and Crosshair thrust his hips faster into you as he fisted your hair and gave it a light tug. Your vision went white as you succumbed to the pleasure, to him, until you felt the heat of his release inside you followed by soft, low-pitched moans that sealed every one of your feelings for him.
Carefully, he set you down, and once he was sure that your feet were firm on the ground, Crosshair went limp in front of you. His arms were the only thing that remained strong as he caged you to the wall, panting to recover his breath in tandem with you. His lips were close to yours, and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to cup his face and kiss him gently. Crosshair kissed you back without a hesitation, retrieving his hands from the wall to place them over your wrists, pressing you deeper to him.
“You never had to be jealous, Crosshair,” you whispered.
“Don’t blame me,” he panted, “for getting a little unhinged at the thought of someone else trying to satisfy you.”
“Hey, if this is the result, I’ll take it any day,” you winked. “I should have known a tease and a challenge was all it took.”
Crosshair smirked at you and let his hands travel down to your waist, straightening his back and lifting your feet up with him. “Wanna show off your hickey?”
You felt the heat rush to your cheeks. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
Crosshair chuckled and pecked your lips, setting you down on the floor again and pulling up his bathing suit again. “Come.”
You put the bottom of your bathing suit on and followed him out of the refresher with your arm linked in his, ready for all the stares you were about to receive. Crosshair would definitely show them all, and you never would have fathomed the idea of parading a fresh hickey in front of a group of men who were flirting with you minutes earlier, but if that love hadn’t made you a bit crazy, you wouldn’t have been doing it right.
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ruija · 4 months
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Well I really love your art, may I ask how do u color? I struggle with coloring turtles and I wasn't to know how do u do that?
Hi anon! That's a very broad question, so you've given me a great excuse to ramble anything I want about my coloring, eehehehee~! This will be in two parts and I'll start with talking about my simpler coloring style.
As in, when I color characters on a white background, with a limited or light palette.
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The driving force behind this style is me being lazy. My time, energy, and attention span are pretty limited, so if I want to finish anything, I gotta do it fast. And with fanart, I'm usually just doing it for fun and relaxation, so there's no need to push myself to polish it too much.
Despite that, I rarely post just black and white sketches or line arts. I always try to add at least a little bit of toning or shading, because that makes the image easier to read. The characters and their shapes pop out and catch the eye of the viewer better.
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However, in this particular example, just the couple toning colors don't quite do the job. The way Don and Leo are entangled makes the center area of this illustration very busy and hard to read.
As a comparison; this pic has only one tone + mask colors, and it works. This is because all the characters are standing separately and their poses are very stationary and simple.
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So for the Don + Leo pic, adding some shadows helps in bringing out shapes and depths. Also in general, if you don't feel like drawing BGs, it's good to at least add a shadow below the characters. It grounds them and makes them feel like they exist within a space.
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Sometimes if the posing looks too complex and busy, it might just be best to color in the characters fully.
However, even if I do full flat colors, I tend to use a lighter palette. Putting characters in their neutral/default color on a white BG can look a bit jarring as if they're floating in a void. It feels less immersive and like the picture is unfinished.
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Using lighter colors makes the image more cohesive, and fits the characters into the white environment a bit more naturally.
If I'm too lazy to draw a BG, I prefer using stylized and limited colors. It feels deliberate and that the whiteness is just part of the palette, whereas the character-accurate colors on white don't match as well, even if they're more pastel.
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That being said, there's nothing wrong with just slapping the flat-colored characters on a white background. As you know, I do it too. I'm just exposing my 'fancy coloring style' for what it is; me being lazy, hah!
Limited and monochromatic palettes are a nice shortcut even when you do actual backgrounds. It's faster and you don't have to worry about clashing colors. And you can still convey atmosphere and mood.
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Also, on the topic of conserving your time and efforts; I think it's very common among younger/less experienced artists to think that the amount of time you spend on your art piece = how good and well received that piece will be.
Which has some merit to it of course, but it can lead to putting too much effort into areas where it's not necessary. E.g. filling the piece with tons of details and clutter that don't serve an actual purpose, but rather make the image hard to read. Or doing really complicated shading for a meme/comic, where simplicity would deliver the joke better.
So whenever I'm drawing something I intend to publish, whether it's a quick doodle or a more polished piece, I try to follow these two principles: Make it easily readable and do the bare minimum that needs to be done to convey what I want to convey.
Putting time into practice is important, but if you draw for work, it's also crucial that you know how to prioritize and use your time efficiently!
Anyway, thanks for reading! In the next part I'll go into how I do my fully colored pieces, so stay tuned for that!
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bby-deerling · 7 months
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Hey it said requests open but if there not it’s fine. Could you do a follow up on the zoros partner and best friend Sanji story. Maybe where he finds out about how she was feeling and some angst but happy ending please. Love your writing!
hello anon!!! i've actually had this floating around in my head for a few days myself! (and to the anon who wanted something similar but with a bit more angst + interactions w/sanji, i plan on doing a prequel as well so stay tuned!) ending is extra fluffy because i cannot help myself but in my defense it IS zoro's birthday today <3
in all my dreams (zoro x fem!reader) sfw, angst+fluff. wc: 2.1k
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When Luffy and Zoro wake up and the crew rushes to greet them, you’re the first one to barrel through the door.  Flinging yourself onto Luffy first to give him a quick squeeze while he’s eating, happy tears prick at your eyes.  When you look up to gaze at Zoro across the table, he appears to be too busy drinking to even notice you, but as you approach him, he pats the ground next to him in an invitation to sit near him.
You’re not the only one who moves to take him up on it.
She’s too close, nestled right behind him, and the sweet smell of her perfume began to strangle your airways.  You barely notice the pinprick feeling of nails digging into your arms until Chopper is yanking your hand away.  There’s a brief pause in the pace of Zoro’s swallows as he chugs from the enormous bottle of sake, and for the first time since he’s woken up, his eye meets yours with a brief flash of emotions—you eagerly consume each one.
Excitement, love, concern, then, as he notices you were picking at your arms, guilt.
Your stomach twists into a mangled mess.
You don’t have time to spiral too far before he passes you a piece of meat with his free hand.  Too slow on the uptake, your captain snatches it with his grubby, rubbery hands from across the table before you can so much as bring it towards your mouth.  You doubted could keep down a delicious steak like that at a time like this anyways. 
Chopper keeps trying desperately to get Zoro’s attention and get him to slow down, but his pace drinking was inhuman, even more so than before.  As he tilts the bottle upward to lap up the last few mouthfuls, he offers you the mouth of the jug, holding your jaw in place as he pours.  Unable to hold back a blush, you nearly gasp when he wipes the excess sake from your upper lip and tastes it from his own hand; by your limited standards of public displays of affection, it was obscene.  His slate grey eye meets your gaze as you swallow, both exchanging a silent message.
I missed you.
And suddenly, everything is as it should be, the worry in the pit of your stomach replaced by butterflies and fondness and the excitement of finally getting to see him in motion for the first time in days.  Head abuzz, drunk on love and liquor, you ramble to him about nearly everything that had occurred while he was asleep—all of the mundane and silly moments with your crew that you cherished, and wished he could have been there for. 
Everything is so immaculately perfect, until Zoro wonders how his body ended up clean and she speaks up.
“…Is that pleasing to you~?”
Everything is red, and your ears are ringing, and your kimono is nearly singed by the flames at Sanji’s feet as he starts a petty argument with Zoro; the cook is jealous of the affection the swordsman is receiving, but you catch the deeper anger in his ocean blue eye—he’s fighting for your dignity.  Embarrassment floods your cheeks as you recall your drunken misery from last night, praying he won’t bring it up to get the upper hand as they argue. 
Chopper snaps you out of your frozen state, fretting over your frazzled condition.  The little reindeer guides you to Nami, who gives you a firm squeeze on the shoulder and ropes you into the plans to head towards the bathhouses.  There’s a brief lull in conversation, and the room is mostly silent, save for Zoro and Sanji’s bickering; of course, this is the moment the cook takes to open his mouth.
“Do you even have the faintest idea what you’re doing to her, mosshead?  She’s a nervous wreck!”
The stupid cook had broken a key tenet of you and Zoro’s relationship—your dirty laundry was now being aired out in public, despite the fact that you were both trying to be as discreet as possible for not just your own safety, but the crew’s as well.  Zoro now knew you had not only had a wavering of faith and had briefly doubted his level of commitment to you, but also that you had gone to Sanji of all people for comfort.
The two of you had never been in a fight before, but you bite your tongue and worry this might have pushed Zoro to the brink.
You grab Nami by the forearm and are out the door as quickly as possible before you can overhear more of their arguing.  The rest of the women follow close behind, including Hiyori, her aura completely serene and unbothered; you on the other hand, are trembling so badly that Tama asks you if you’re ill.  Sick with worry and the slight sting of betrayal at having your confidence broken, you try to smile and tell her you’re just a touch lightheaded.
Normally, Nami would give you a bit more grief for acting so bizarre, but as she feels you tremble, she can’t help but rub circles into your shoulder as you near the women’s baths.
“Everything’s fine, she’s just getting in your head.” she whispers; the fresh scent of tangerines washes over you and begins to calm your nerves.
Before you can respond, a noodle-like arm wrapped itself repeatedly around your torso like a boa constrictor and you found yourself yanked backwards.  With the way your chest was tightened with anxiety, Luffy’s grasp was an unconventional comfort.
“I wanted to talk to ya’ about something!” he exclaimed, patting you on the head, giving you a smile so endearing that your nerves nearly vaporized.  “People say that Boa Hancock is the most beautiful woman in the world, and she wanted to marry me a lot, but I don’t care—I’d rather have a nice piece of meat, y'know!  So there! Get what I mean?”
Luffy’s grin is infectious, and spreads to your face before you both erupt into laughter.  Cryptic wording aside, you picked up on what he was trying to say, and you find yourself embarrassed that you had gotten so worked up in the first place.
“Don’t call her a piece of meat, Luffy!” Chopper cries from on top of Zoro’s shoulders. “She’s not food no matter how many times you try to bite her—"
“—but Zoro’s always biting her all the time!” he whines, causing your face to flush.
You sense Zoro is about to grab you by the waist with your observation haki, and your face tingles with anticipation.  As he pulls you into his side, he mumbles in your ear.
“Let’s talk later.  I’ve got a gift for you.”
When you turn to look at him, he’s smirking, admiring the pink dusting on your cheeks.  You nod, eyes brimming with excitement and relief; you almost dare to throw yourself into his arms since only Luffy and Chopper were around at the moment, but before you can act you’re being launched into the air.
“Back ya’ go!” Luffy shouts, laughing maniacally as you hurtle through the air back towards the women.  You enjoy the brief sensation of flying and hope Nami will catch you; she does, but not without some grumbling at how she was going to knock Luffy upside the head later as you both headed towards the bath.
As she runs her fingers soothingly through your scalp, massaging the shampoo into your roots, you tell her Zoro plans to give you a present, and the navigator completely freezes.
“Seriously?” she asks, nearly choking with surprise.
“Mhm!  You know what it is, don’t you?” you asked, eager for a hint.
“’Course I do, I paid for it!” she snaps back.
You look at her expectantly, but she gives you no clues.  Pouting your lip out jokingly causes Nami to roll her eyes at you and sigh, deciding to throw you a bone.
“He must really be in the doghouse if he’s giving that to you now.” she says.
“You don’t mean—”
“Not telling you!  Not telling you anything else!  …Unless you pay me, but I know damn well you don’t have enough to cover the cost.”
You drop the subject, but excited jitters dance through your limbs and leave you restless.  When you finally leave the comfort of the warm bath, Nami insists on preening over you, carefully brushing, drying, and styling your hair with one of her gorgeous hairpins, and makes sure your kimono looks perfect.  The attention was welcome, especially because she would normally ask something in return, but surprisingly this time she tells you not to worry about it with a big smile on her face.
When you finally make it back to the Sunny with Nami, you glance around for Zoro and see him standing in the Observation Tower.  Seeing your struggling on account of your heavy robes, he meets you halfway, descending the ladder, and offers to carry you up; when you gleefully accept, he scoops you into his arms as if you were weightless.  Passing the threshold and entering the dome-like structure, he kisses your forehead and sets you down—any other time he would be a bit rougher about it, knowing how much you liked being tossed around, but he’s conscious of the way you’re bundled into your robes with care.
As your eyes meet, you can tell he’s excited, and a little unnerved.  He contemplates saying something for a moment, but decides to sit down first.
“C’mere.” he says, patting the ground in front of him.  You sit on your knees between his legs, and he wraps them the rest of the way around, encircling you.  One hand cradles your face while the other one sits lazily on your hip.
“I’m so glad you’re awake…” you tell him, voice light as you feel like you’re finally able to breathe for the first time in days.
“You knew I’d be fine.” he says, kissing your forehead gently.
“I know, but I missed you!” you reply, giggling.
“I missed you too, pretty girl.” he says, planting a soft, gentle kiss on your lips.  Pupils wide and eyes sparkling, you’re completely vulnerable, and all his.  He drinks every drop of your affection up greedily as he does the last bits of sake from your lips.
He hesitates a moment before speaking again, and doesn’t miss the brief flash of worry in your eyes as you catch it.
“Thank you.  For staying focused when you needed to and not losing your head.” he says, as his thumb strokes your cheek.  “You’re so good to me.  I wouldn’t have taken it half as well.”  A deep exhale leaves you; you’ve been shed of an enormous weight as you give him a peck on the lips.
“And thank you.  For not getting too worked up about what blondie said earlier about me being a nervous wreck about it.” you reply, grateful he was as understanding of your feelings as you had hoped.
He scrunches his face for a moment, trying to figure out what you were referring to; when the cook runs his mouth during their arguments, he usually ends up tuning most of it out or forgetting it immediately after.  When he finally recalls it, just shrugs.  “Don’t worry about it.  The shitty cook is always making mountains out of molehills.”
His mouth still tastes like the grainy aftertaste of sake, and you feel yourself getting drunk on it.  The grip on your hips tightens, as if he’s afraid you’ll evaporate into thin air if he lets go.  He’s careful not to mess up your hair like he usually would as he deepens the kiss, giving you a slight bite on your lower lip when he finally pulls back.
“Got something for you.” he says softly, pulling a tiny, drawstring bag out of his pocket and placing it in your hand.  Inside is a necklace—a thin, gold chain with a tiny, diamond pendant cut in the shape of a heart. 
“A promise.” he says, “That whatever happens in the future, wherever I go, you’re coming with me.”
Speechless, you’re incapable of doing anything but smiling as he hooks the clasp around your neck; the light brush of his fingers on your neck sends tingles down your spine.
“Couldn’t get you a ring.” he says with a smirk. “Would mess up your grip on your knives again after we spent all that time fixing it.”  You giggle in response, voice hitching a bit as you’re overcome by emotion.
“I love you so much, Zoro.” you say, gazing at him with that dreamy haze in your eyes that drove him wild.
“I love you too.” he replies, pulling you in for a kiss, finally allowing himself to let go and start to run his hands through your hair. 
Nami had dressed you up so beautifully for him, like a gift to be carefully undone, but right now, basking in the glow of your love, he just couldn’t help but want to rip through the wrapping paper.
310 notes · View notes
thefallennightmare · 6 months
Text
Just Pretend-sixteen
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*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader
Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.
Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.
Authors Note: Please listen to Eyelids by PVRIS during this chapter. Thank you very much.
Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)
Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid
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READER
With the notebook in my lap, as I sat cross-legged on my bed with Salem curled up next to me, purring away, I watched intently my laptop screen. My heart pounded so hard in my chest it made it hard to breathe. Noah and Jolly were currently performing a live stream on Veeps and from the moment I clicked on the video, I couldn’t stop staring; with his long hair cascading down his face in perfect waves. His face stone with concentration but yet soft with the features I loved.
“Do you think he’ll mess up like the last stream he did?” I asked Salem while scratching his belly.
Noah’s voice was something extremely distinctive, not just anyone could hold a tune or lit a candle to how he sounded. The way he effortlessly went through every emotion in his body. I looked at Noah as he was pretty still, with thick hair and soft eyes, and he swayed so gracefully that it almost seemed as though he was gliding. I’ve seen beautiful men before; men who caught my eye, but to my mind, they usually lacked the traits I found most desirable. Traits like intelligence, confidence, strength of spirit, passion, traits that inspired others to greatness, traits I aspired to myself, all the traits he had.
I hung off the cliff for Noah for a long time until recently, when I fell to the depths below.
It sparked something in me as I watched Jolly and Noah’s performance. I wanted to do something like this too; to showcase my real voice. I was better without Trey; the band was better. Trey wasn’t the end-all, and I wanted to prove it further. I understood the fans; I knew their positions; I understood their inner turmoil and their panic. Change is actually horrific under some circumstances, not all, but surely a few. This one was big.
Hollow Souls was never supposed to be a 3 piece. Hell, we didn’t even have a guitar player and our tech had to fill in when we recorded My House. Which is why I was learning how to play guitar so I could take Trey’s place. A lot of change within a few months and while it was scary, it was also exciting. But that didn’t stop me from questioning once again if we needed another person. What if I wasn’t strong enough to do this alone? Just the three of us? 
What the hell were you worried about, angel?
I was thinking so heavily about what Noah texted me. He was proud of me. Of me! And my friends. That woke me up, he always could. I wanted to grab my phone to call him, and ask him for more reassurance. Our 2:30 conversations were slim and in between and I was struggling with that. I didn’t want to push my luck; he had Bailey.
Bailey.
Bailey.
I rolled my eyes, at the memories of the party. Ridiculous. I was tiptoeing around Noah; I knew if I called him I’d so desperately try to stay on the line. But what if she showed? It was killing me.
Therefore, I was hesitant to perform Eyelids; I was worried Noah’s reaction would warrant further frustration, considering he was in the arms of someone else. I couldn’t handle it because it fucking hurt seeing him with her. I wanted Noah to myself, as selfish as that sounded. I could only hope that in the discovery of my lyrics, he’ll at least know I meant everything we did and said that whole tour, meeting him changed my life for the better; before I hurt him.
I miss him and I only wished I was in his arms.
As the livestream ended, I smiled warmly as Noah and Jolly waved goodbye at the camera and then tried to focus my attention on the paper in my lap.
Amongst the idea of our own live stream, I couldn’t help but want more out of me. It was small; it was something just dying to purge out. However, the more I looked at the lyrics on paper, the more it didn’t fit; it wasn’t me. It was as if these lyrics were meant for someone else.
Letting out a deep breath, I sang a harmony I thought would fit with the lyrics. “Evened the scores, then I let it all go fall apart. And every step forward put a little more sword in your heart, yeah. Looking sideways when I say I’m okay with the past but I’m afraid of what I might say if you ask.”
The more I read it, over and over. It was good; I’ll say that. But, surely it didn’t belong to me. I could feel that. But I didn’t give up yet. I wrote another verse, hoping this one would speak more of me.
“I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. I let it tear me down, and I'll never be the same. I did it to myself and tried to be someone else. And you didn't notice 'til I finally got, finally got away.”
Fuck, even singing these lyrics didn’t feel right. My heart knew that this didn’t belong to me, it was meant for someone else.
Making a rash decision, I pulled out my phone and clicked on the name I needed help from.
“Hello?”
I perked up at the accent immediately. “Jolly! Hey, it's me. Y/N.”
A light chuckle echoed in my ear. “I know who it is, doll, I have caller ID.”
“Ok don’t be smart,” I teased.
“Sorry,” he laughs, “What do I owe the pleasure?”
I bit my lip, wondering how he would take my idea. It sounded rash in my head but if anyone were to listen to my idea; it was Jolly.
“I have something to run by you. Well, actually a few things.”
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NOAH
My knee bounced as I sat in my chair, phone gripped tightly in my hand, as I glanced at the clock on my computer.
2:28.
It has been almost a week now since our last 2:30 call and the last one was short as she was running around Japan with her dad. Things were awkward to say the least at the party the other night and I wanted to make sure that things between us were still good.
Good? What’s considered good anymore? You’re dating someone else, dumbass.
Ignoring the voice in my mind, I let out a deep breath before clicking on Y/N’s name; the ringing echoing loudly in my quiet room. It rang and rang and rang. It went on like this for a few more times until, eventually; I hung up the call with a groan. But I wasn’t ready to give up yet and I typed out a quick message to Malcolm.
ME: Is Y/N around? I tried calling her.
Malcolm: Yeah, she’s been in the shower. Has been in there for a while- too long, maybe shaving or some shit. I’ll have her call you.
An audible, deep groan, fell from my lips as I leaned my head back against the headrest of my chair when the thought of Y/N in the shower.
Naked, water, and soap ran down every inch of her unholy skin.
“Shit,” I cursed when my dick twitched in my sweats.
“Noah.”
Y/N’s voice rang in my ear as my eyes fluttered shut, hands in fists on my thighs. My vision was so vivid as if I was in the shower with her, our wet skin ablaze as I wrapped my arms around her from behind to bury my face into the crook of her neck.
“Angel,” I breathed while my palm pressed against my hard cock in my sweats.
My hips raised from the chair as a moan crawled out of my throat, my hand now all but ripping out my dripping cock from my pants. It was red and thick with the mere thought of Y/N in the shower. Gripping it between my fingers, I slowly pumped up and down, thumb grazing over the pre-cum that leaked out from the slit and circled it around the head of my cock.
“Noah, I need you.”
Her name fell from my lips as a prayer while I leaned farther back into my chair as my hand worked faster, the grip around myself tightened as the orgasm buzzed in my lower stomach. The burn felt so good but it wasn’t enough; I needed something else to help me over the edge.
I pulled the extra skin down tight, cock standing straight up in my hand, as I let out a strangled breath. My orgasm was right there, but I wanted to edge myself longer; I didn’t want this vision to end.
Y/N rubbed the soap over every inch of her skin, her fingers teasing over her nipples as he head fell back, water spraying into her mouth.
But after that vision, another one came to mind which made my hand work in faster strokes. Y/N on top of me with her hands gripping my braids as her mouth fell slack with ecstasy. I consistently became a time traveler of that night, the night she rode me into oblivion. A night I’ll surely never forget. Even in these moments, my mind goes there.
“Fuck. Shit.” I cursed as a shock shot from the base of my spine to the top when my body went stiff, orgasm so close to destroying me.
I jerked when my phone buzzed against the computer desk so I stopped my actions but kept my grip tight on my aching cock to realize Bailey was calling me.
Ignore.
With my phone still in my hand, I quickly went to my photos and clicked on one of my favorite pictures of Y/N; from the day we spent on the beach. She was staring straight out into the water, a small smile playing on her sweet, plump lips.
Fuck, I wished those lips were strangled around my cock.
Once the phone was set up directly in front of me, I leaned back into my chair again and worked my hand in fast short strokes, the orgasm once again burning low in my belly.
“Noah.” Y/N’s voice echoed in my mind again.
“Shit, angel. I’m gonna-fuck,” I groaned low, the noise barely audible as it crawled out of my throat when my release finally washed over me.
Cum shot all over my hand and onto my pants but none of that mattered; my dark eyes were stuck on the picture on the screen. Until a different picture appeared which had me cursing and wiping my cum covered hand on my pants before tucking myself back into my pants. Just a simple phone call from her had my dick aching again.
With a few steady breaths, I ran my clean hand through my hair before answering the FaceTime call; Y/N’s bright smile warming my heart.
“Hi Mochi! I didn’t mean to miss your call. I was in the shower.”
She was sitting on her bed, water still dripping from her wet hair, and internally I groaned when the same thoughts as earlier came creeping back into my mind.
“Oh yeah? You-uh-feeling clean?” I flushed while shifting in my chair.
“Well, yeah,” she chuckled. “That’s what a shower is. Water, soap.”
Naked, I know the drill.
I cleared my throat. “Right. Anyway, can you talk or is this a bad time?”
“Actually, I was going to send this in the group chat but since I have you on the phone, I figured now would be the best time.”
I raised a brow as my heart pounded widely in my chest, wondering what she was going to say.
“Veeps offered Hollow Souls to do a stream as well! So I wanted to make sure you were free to watch it, maybe? Totally fine if you can’t, I know you might be busy with-.”
“I’ll watch it,” I rushed out, not missing a beat. “What time?”
“Oh, in about 2 hours?” She bit her lip, hopeful I’d say yes.
My dick throbbed as memories of moments before her phone call replayed in my mind. “I’ll have the tv on standby downstairs, angel. We wouldn’t miss that shit for anything.”
Y/N smiled brightly as she brought Salem into view of her phone, his green eyes staring directly into my soul. “Salem thanks you for the support.”
“I miss him, we really bonded while you were gone,” I smiled a bit.
“Well, you can come by anytime to hang out with him; or me,” Y/N added the last bit slyly.
“Count me in, angel.”
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READER
Once dressed, almost ready for the live stream, I was rummaging through my sock drawer to find a pair of socks when my fingers brushed against something soft. My brow raised as I pulled out two small velvet boxes, my mind immediately going back to my birthday.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I opened the box, and a gasp left my lips as the silver necklace and matching bracelet shined under the light of the room. It wasn't anything over the top and there were no diamonds but that didn't matter to me. I wasn't one for over-the-top jewelry, this simple chain and bracelet were enough.
With wet eyes, I gazed up at Noah, who had a nervous look on his face as he fiddled with his wooden rosary. "Do you like it?"
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into my embrace, burying my face into his neck. "I love it, Noah. Thank you so much."
With the haste of break up, the end of the tour, the move, and everything that happened between Noah and me, I almost forgot about the jewelry. I've stared at this bracelet and this fucking necklace for a while now. To think I had almost forgotten it, I shook my head at the thought. I couldn’t, things that were meant for us to find their way back. Well; at least that’s what I told myself. I yearned for him, his comfort, his gaze. I didn’t plan on falling in love with him. But once we met, it was clear that neither of us could control what was happening to us. I gasped when I realized what that burning feeling in my heart took over my entire existence each time I thought of him or saw him.
I love Noah.
I nearly stumbled on my feet as a breath fell from my lips again. “It’s too late now.”
With shaky hands, I opened the box, my heart skipping a beat. It still took my breath away as I opened the box, clasping on the necklace first then the bracelet.
“I have to admit, Salem” I turned towards the mirror in my room so I could stare at my reflection while the cat sat on my vanity. “Noah did pretty well.”
There was a knock on my open door, and I gave a small smile towards Jolly. “Hey.”
“Almost ready?” He asked.
“Yep.”
He then taped a finger to his neckline twice. “That’s a nice necklace. Who gave you that?”
“It was a birthday gift,” I shrugged nonchalantly.
The corner of Jolly’s mouth turned up in a grin. “That’s not what I asked.”
Ignoring his comment, I slid into my slippers and led him out of my room down to the dining room where we set up earlier.
Jolly first arrived a few hours ago for our daily lessons before helping me set up the stream. After I watched theirs almost a week ago, I asked Jolly if he could come over to help me with my stream. I couldn’t play guitar but we could practice the two songs I wanted to perform.
Chase and Malcolm asked if I needed them for this but I could tell they already had plans. Even though this was a Hollow Souls set, it was more of an acoustic version so Chase on drums and Malcolm on bass wasn’t needed; hence why I asked Jolly to help. First off, who else was better to teach me how to play guitar than him? I knew the basics, but he was helping me hone in on my skills. Second, I needed to talk to him about something important.
As I finished making things were in order, Jolly sat on his chair to strum the first few notes of If I’m There on his guitar.
“Feel comfortable enough?” He wondered.
I nodded while looking at the laptop to make sure the stream was ready; all I had to do was hit the live button.
“Yep. We’ve been practicing every day. It helps I have a great teacher,” I beamed at him. “Thanks for this, Jolly. I didn’t know who else to ask and I know you’re Noah’s friend first.”
Jolly shrugged. “You’re my friend as well, doll. I help my friends and that’s something Noah knows and understands.”
Silence fell between us for a long moment until he hesitated.
“How did you feel about our new single, honestly?”
My shoulders went rigid for a second before I shrugged. “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Y/N don’t take this the wrong way, but you can’t be that dense. You know it was about you, right?” Jolly asked.
“I-,” The words died in my throat.
Jolly raised a brow. “Yeah, so tell me. How do you feel about it?”
“Are you my shrink now?” I crossed my arms over my chest, one last ditch effort at shielding myself from admitting the truth.
“No, a friend,” he sighed while setting down the guitar.
Defeated, I fell into the chair with a groan. “I-I feel sad. Noah must fucking hate me.”
“I assure you, he doesn’t,” Jolly said.
“How can you be so sure, Jolly? He went and found someone else. He’s clearly writing how he feels too. I hate feeling like this.” I sat with my hands folded in my lap as I chipped away at the nail polish.
“So talk to him, because I can tell you right now, Noah’s not head over heels for this girl. I think you know deep down what he’s trying to do.”
I refused to meet his gaze as I shook my head. “I don’t know what you mean. I can’t-he seems happy.”
“Y/N,” Jolly sighed. “He’s not happy unless he’s with you.”
“Then he needs to tell me that,” my eyes snapped up towards him. “I was going to express some things I’ve discovered but-.”
Jolly raised his brows. “Discovered what?”
For a split second, I thought about telling him but decided against it. “It doesn’t matter, I can’t mess anything up for him. I need Noah to need me. It works both ways, Jolly.”
“Y/N you’re not understanding you’ve got it all wrong-.”
“Can we move on, please? It hurts enough to think about him with someone else the last fucking thing I want to do is talk about them,” I let out a shaky breath as my bottom lip wobbled.
Jolly gave me a weak smile. “Sure thing, doll. Did you want to go live?”
“Actually,” I bit my lip before reaching over to the table to grab a piece of paper. “There’s something I want to run by you.”
When he nodded, I handed Jolly the paper. “I wrote it about Trey but the thought of recording it scares me. It’s deeper than what I typically write and it's not me. I thought about selling it but that didn’t feel right.”
I watched intently as Jolly read the lyrics, his eyes taking in every inch of the page, the smile on his lips growing with each pass.
“Doll, this is,” he shook his head. “Amazing. Are you sure?”
Our eyes locked as I nodded. “It’s not a Hollow Souls song. But Bad Omens on the other hand, I know you guys can give it the justice it deserves.”
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NOAH
“SHUT UP!” I bellowed while tossing a pillow towards Jesse, who was talking extensively to Orie about some shit that didn’t matter. “The live stream is about to start.”
Jesse caught the pillow mid-throw and smirked. “Excited, are we?”
Flipping him off, I sat on the couch with a beer in one hand and my phone in the other, sending another text to Jolly. He’d been M.I. A all day, and we were wondering if he was going to join.
“Has anyone heard from Jolly?” I asked.
Orie shrugged. “I thought he was in his room.”
“We went to lunch earlier,” Michael said while walking into the living room, bowl full of random snacks in his hands before he set them on the coffee table. “But he said he had some things to take care of afterward.”
Just then the stream began and Y/N’s soft voice echoed through the speakers.
“Shit, are we live? Wait, I probably shouldn’t swear on this.”
We all shared a laugh until we saw who was sitting next to her.
“Hi everyone! It’s Y/N from Hollow Souls. You might have noticed that I have a friend here with me today,” Y/N adjusted the headphones before she motioned to Jolly who sat on her left. “Jolly from Bad Omens.”
Jolly waved to the camera. “Hi.”
“I guess that’s what his errand was,” Jesse said while throwing some popcorn in his mouth.
Ignoring him, I wondered why Jolly was with Y/N right now. I wasn’t jealous he was with her. I was jealous that I wasn’t there instead. She looked breathtaking with her long hair pulled back in a tight bun to showcase the sharp features of her face, her plump lips glistening with the lip gloss she must have applied before the stream started. Her bright eyes shined with the excitement of what she was about to perform which in turn made me sit up straighter in my spot on the couch, a proud smile on my face.
“So, the reason Malcolm and Chase aren’t here is because this set is more of an acoustic one. I recently saw some friends of mine do something like this and wanted to try it,” she smiled over to Jolly.
“I’m here for moral support,” Jolly said.
“He’s actually been teaching me guitar the last week because I wanted to do more for this band since we kicked Trey out,” Y/N revealed.
At the mention of his name, I felt my face twitch but kept it as stone as I could, not wanting to give anything away to the rest of the guys. They were the only three of the entire group that didn’t know the truth about Y/N’s relationship with Trey.
“Did you know Jolly was teaching her guitar?” Jesse asked me.
I shook my head while running a hand through my hair. “I had no idea she wanted to learn. I mean, I knew they had to figure out a guitarist moving forward but didn’t know she wanted to play.”
“She didn’t ask you?” Orie wondered.
I shrugged, wondering the same but did my best not to dwell on it as I went back to watching the feed.
“So, I’m going to sing two songs for you guys today. The first one is a cover, and the second is something new. It’s nowhere near ready for release but it’s been weighing heavy on my heart the last few weeks since I wrote it.”
Y/N adjusted her headphones before glancing over to her laptop. “Woah, the chat is going crazy you’re here, Jolly.”
He hummed in amusement while tuning the guitar. “What are they saying?”
“Where’s Noah? When is the collab with Bad Omens coming?”
Y/N snickered before looking back at the camera, giving a wink. “I don’t know. Noah has my number.”
Quickly pulling out my phone, I pulled up the stream to add something to the chat.
“Oh, look who joined the chat. Jolly, Noah is wondering if you could bring pizza home,” Y/N laughed as she read my comment.
I chuckled to myself as we saw Jolly roll his eyes. Then Y/N read my next comment, her cheeks flushing red; something others might not have noticed. But I did. I watched and analyzed everything she did with a careful eye.
The comment I sent in the chat was something simple; something only a few of us would understand.
We can talk about the collab during our next phone call.
She shifted in her chair, a hint of a smile on her face. “Well, my first song might sound familiar to a lot of you. It’s my first time performing it but unlike Noah did last week, I won’t mess up the words.”
Jolly broke out in laughter before playing the opening notes of the song; one I recognized immediately even though I knew which one she meant before Jolly played the first few notes of the song. There was only one song I messed up on a livestream recently. If I’m There.
Her beautiful voice stung deep into my veins as I fell back on the couch.
“Oh. Shit,” Orie spoke. “No offense, man, but Y/N kills your lyrics.”
I nodded, numbly as I agreed with him. It was as if my lyrics were made for her voice, the sultry tone of it sending chills all over my body. She gripped the microphone with a soft touch and my cock twitched as I remembered earlier up in my bedroom.
As she got to the verse I messed up on my own livestream, Y/N’s eyes opened to throw a quick wink and smirk toward the camera when she sang it perfectly; almost annoyingly perfect.
I felt a pair of eyes burning into the side of my head and briefly tearing my gaze away from the television; I shot Jesse a look.
“What?”
He pursed his lips while shaking his head. “You haven’t stopped smiling since she came on the screen. You look like a kid that was given free rein in a candy store.”
Rolling my eyes, I focused back to Y/N just in time as she sang the last two lines of the song.
“And if you're there to catch me when I fall then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all,” she breathed before pushing away the microphone from her a tad.
Shit.
This was different than Hollow Souls. The softness of the song was fucking made for Y/N and something she needed to do more of.
“Fuck yes,” she beamed but then smacked a hand over her face. “Sorry, didn’t mean to swear. I’ll add it to the jar Malcolm has on top of the fridge.”
“He doesn’t?” Michael chucked.
I nodded while taking a long drink of my beer. “He does. I saw it when I was there taking care of Salem. Thing is empty but fuck is in their everyday vocabulary so you know they’re not adding to that shit.”
Noticing she was reading the comments once again, I quickly typed out one.
Great job, Y/N! Feel free to cover any of our songs. I’d always watch it with a proud smile.
Even though she didn’t say she read it, I knew she did with the way the corner of her lip raised and the way her eyes crinkled at the sides.
“Alright, the last song is a new one. We do plan on having it on the next record but it will sound different from what you’ll hear right now. My friends, thank you for watching. This one is called Eyelids.”
This had me sitting on the edge of the couch, elbows on my knees, as excitement filled me.
“I'll face my fear of the evening once I get used to this feeling. I can't sleep. That's when you're torn away from me. While I'm dreaming I feel you leaving.”
My jaw fell slack, hearing the rawness in her voice with the pure emotion being poured out of her soul.
"I'll face my fear of the sunrise when I wake up with your hand inside mine. It's hard to say good morning when it's followed with goodbye. Just wanted to say good night.”
Something glinted on the screen, which immediately took my gaze away from her face down to her neck, my heart and breath catching in my throat. I remained silent as my body leaned closer to the television.
“What are you doing, man? Did you forget your glasses?” Michael joked.
His voice was a white noise as I moved from my spot on the couch to the coffee table, now sitting directly in front of the screen.
What the fuck?
Is that?
I inched closer and closer to that television, I couldn’t hear what was being said to me as I scrunched my face up and began squinting.
No, it can’t be.
“Our eyes fighting the light but I'm not ready to say good night, ooh. I try and hold on tight 'cause it's just not time to say good night. Say good night.”
It hung almost a little well above her cleavage, that beautiful silky neck- my eyes moved quickly to her wrists.
“Let me see,” I muttered under my breath.
I made an inaudible sound from my throat, mouth peering a little open.
She was wearing them; both of them. My heart raced even further, longer, more rapidly.
I was feeling a lot of things at once; I didn’t quite know how to place them. I needed a beer. I needed to talk to my shrink. That’s what I should do, because the panic was setting in, this ache was almost unbearable.
Why, why would she want to wear them after everything? Even now?
I’m hurting her right back, aren’t I?
Everything has become a puddle of mud, a mess of my volition now. I did this. All I could think while seeing the jewelry I gifted her, all I could hear while listening to her voice was “Maybe, just maybe I’ll come back to you.”
She was occupied by her own complicated thoughts - you could tell from the way she was squinting and moving her mouth.
Maybe I was imagining things. Maybe until-.
“I'll face my fear of the cold nights when you leave me behind. I felt your hands in my hair. I felt your breath on my neck. Yeah, I need to feel you again. Just wanted to say good night.”
My body went still, all the air taken from my lungs, as I watched her lips move. Her own personal conflict was clear in the way the muscles in her jaw tightened and her eyes screwed shut.
No, it couldn’t be.
She didn’t.
Did she?
Was this about us?
No, I’m overthinking this.
“Our eyes fighting the light but I'm not ready to say good night, ooh. I try and hold on tight 'cause it's just not time to say good night. Say good night.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Orie smack Jesse on the shoulder and motioned to the stillness of me; still unmoving.
“Our eyes fighting the light. But I'm not ready to say good night, ooh. I try and hold on tight 'cause it's just not time to say good night. Say good night.”
I could see Jolly vibing along to the lyrics next to Y/N but it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered more than this moment right here as I watched her pour every feeling about that night into this one song. My heart fell deep into the pits of my stomach when I saw her grip the necklace, playing with it between two fingers.
These eyes are closed again for yet another night I wake up and I can feel you by my side. But I can't find you in the dark when you're so far. Yeah, that's the hardest part. Here comes the hardest part.
My eyes dropped slightly in tangent with my shoulders.
Our eyes fight the light. But I'm not ready to say good night oh. I try and hold on tight 'cause it's just not time to say good night. To say good night.
As the last lyric faded into the air, there was a hushed recording playing some words in the background; another small thing I picked up on.
“I mean in what world do I go to sleep after you and wake up before you? I don't even know how it happens. Well, I hope you're having sweet dreams. And you call me when you wake up.”
Fuck.
My bottom lip trembled when I recognized that voice. It was Y/N’s, and it wasn’t just any kind of recording. No, it was a voicemail she left me while she was in Japan. It was right after I missed one of our 2:30 calls. I was asleep but once I noticed she called me less than an hour later; I listened to the voicemail before quickly calling her back.
“Okay, that deserves a curse,” Jolly said. “You fucking killed that, Y/N.”
She was beaming with pride. “Holy shit, guys. You don’t understand how long I’ve had this festering inside of me. It feels so good to get out.”
Y/N clicked on the laptop to read through some of the comments, a small frown pulling at her lips.
“Oh my god. Are you and Trey getting back together?! You were so perfect. No, we’re not getting back together. I grew up since the breakup; I became a savage. But not everything is about fucking Trey. This is just a song about a really awesome guy. That’s it.”
I was still, like a statue, unmoving and unnerving as Joly and Y/N said their goodbyes before the stream ended; a black screen mirror back to me.
Jesse leaned forward in his chair. “Noah-.”
Hearing my name broke me out of the trance and without saying another word, I jumped up from my spot on the coffee table and took the stairs two at a time, my footsteps thundering throughout the house before I slammed myself into my bedroom.
Tears threatened to spill, burning at the corners of my eyes, but I held them in with a choked sob as I ran a shaky hand over my face.
I didn’t know what to make of anything anymore. Maybe just romantics would call this a twisted, toxic beginning to a love story while the cynics would call it a tragedy. In my mind, it’s a little bit of both, and no matter how you choose to view it in the end, it doesn’t change the fact that it involves a great deal of my life and the path I’ve chosen to follow and that I- I love her.
Ripping the drawer of my desk open, I rummaged through the useless crap, already knowing what I was looking for. I tossed the velvet boxes to the side and cradled the jewelry, my large hands encased them. I pressed them on my forehead and let the tears finally spill to the floor as I fell to my knees, resting my back up against my bed.
I cried; actually fucking cried.
The necklace and bracelet shook in my hands as the sobs wrecked through me. I haven’t cried like this in a long time mostly because I hated being this open and vulnerable. It made me sick, knowing that I wasn’t able to protect myself from these feelings right now. I spent my entire life protecting myself from these feelings only for Y/N to sink her claws into me in the best way possible.
“I love her,” I choked out through sobs, realizing what I felt earlier. “I fucking love her.”
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NOAH
I wasn’t sure how long I kneeled on the floor, jewelry grasped deep in my palms as it dug into my skin. But it wasn’t until there was a soft knock on the door that pulled me from the despair. Red, puffy, bloodshot eyes glanced up at Jolly, whose shoulders fell as he took in my state; tears dried to my face and hair a mess from running my hands through it.
“Noah,” he muttered.
“Please leave me alone right now.” I whimpered lowly, refusing to meet his gaze again.
“No. Jesse said watching her perform Eyelids fucked you up. What’s going on?” Jolly kneeled in front of me.
“I can’t-,” I choked on a sob. “I don’t want to deal with this.”
Jolly rubbed his jaw. “Was it the song or the jewelry?”
My eyes snapped up to him. “How did you know about the jewelry?”
“You used the band card to charge it, goof. I see everything,” Jolly gave me a small smile.
“Fuck. Sorry,” I sighed.
“It’s okay man, it’s okay,” he reassured me with a strong grip on my shoulder.
“No, no, it’s not. I’m tired of feeling. I want to disappear, just disappear.”
Jolly now gripped both of my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. "No, you don’t. Don’t say that shit.” 
“I just mean I wish it wasn’t this. Y/N’s been giving me mixed signals.” I mumbled.
“Have you thought you’re doing the same? You’re literally hanging out with another woman out of spite,” He raised a questioning brow.
I leaned my head against the side of my mattress. “She won’t tell me how she feels, I’m trying to show her. I’ve always tried to show her.”
“There’s a saying.” Jolly paused, trying to think of the right words to say. “We are defined by what we do, not just nice words. However, I think you’ve shown enough, Noah. It’s time you use your words.” 
“I don’t know how,” I admitted with a shaky breath after a long beat of silence.
“If you’re not comfortable talking about it with us, Noah. Talk to your therapist about it- but this has to stop. It’s draining you.”
I saw the way Jolly’s mouth twitched, his own emotions close to slipping through his own mask, but he held it stronger than me.
“Once you’re in a better place, come to the studio. I have something to show you.”
I nodded. “Sure, yeah. Might be good for me to write something.”
Jolly gave one last squeeze to my shoulder. “Love you, man.”
“You too. Thank you.” I smiled.
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NOAH
An hour and a long shower later, I walked down the hallway toward our studio with a new tune in my head. The lyrics were loud in my mind as I played with the new bracelet on my wrist, twisting it between two fingers.
“There’s not another way don’t let me go, don’t dig another grave today,” I sang under my breath as I walked through the door.
Jolly was sitting on the couch in the room, guitar on his lap and notebook on the floor at his feet. He looked up as I walked in and had a nervous smile on his face.
“Hey, you better?”
I gave a small nod. “Yeah. What’s this?”
As I sat on the couch next to him, I went to reach for the notepad before he placed a foot over it, blocking me from retrieving it.
“Y/N gave me something earlier. I really like it but wanted to run it by you, if you were comfortable,” Jolly said hesitantly.
I tensed, not knowing how to feel. I wasn’t comfortable with whatever Jolly needed to show me but knowing it was from Y/N eventually made me agree.
He removed his foot so I could grab the notebook, eyes immediately scanning over the lyrics on the page.
Evened the scores, then I let it all go fall apart. And every step forward put a little more sword in your heart, yeah. Looking sideways when I say I’m okay with the past but I’m afraid of what I might say if you ask. I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. I let it tear me down, and I'll never be the same. I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. And you didn't notice 'til I finally got, finally got away.
My heart stuttered in my chest as I licked my lips. “Wow, that’s impressive. When did you find the time to write this? Usually, that's my wheelhouse.”
“Noah cut the shit. You know this isn’t my work. I just told you, it’s Y/N’s,” Jolly sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I’m just being a dick.” I snorted a laugh while bumping his shoulder with mine.
“Yeah, you are. Now what do you think? We can use this, no? As inspiration, maybe?”
Suddenly the lyrics I sang a moment before walking into the room played in my mind again; I hummed them under my breath, adding it to the lyrics Y/N wrote.
“One second,” I muttered while pulling out my phone.
ME: You sure you want us to have your lyrics?
Y/N’s response was immediate.
Angel 🪽: Nobody could do it better than you guys. You’ll give those lyrics the justice it deserve.
Leaving the message on read, Jolly and I worked tirelessly to rework the lyrics together and when I felt we were in a good position with them, I reached for my phone again. There was still a lingering feeling festering deep inside of me, that I wanted to make sure Y/N was fine with.
ME: I’m taking creative liberty for this, are you good with that?
Angel 🪽: What's mine is yours, Noah. 
Yeah, not everything.
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year
Note
Eddie find out Steve can sing and immediately starts trying to recruit him to the band
There's singing coming from the shower.
Loud singing.
Good singing.
The only other person in this apartment is Steve.
Steve is singing loudly, and good in the shower.
Since when could Steve sing?
He hits a note that some professionals would be jealous of, and Eddie has had enough.
He walks to the bathroom, banging on the door three times and opening the door before Steve responded.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Steve peeked his head around the shower curtain, shampoo covering his hair.
"Tell you what?"
"That you can sing."
"Uh. I just sing for fun?"
"Well, that is about to change. Corroded Coffin needs someone who can sing. I can carry a tune, but nothing like that. We need you. I need you."
Steve shook his head and closed the curtain, moving back under the water to rinse his hair.
"I'm not joining your band."
"I will do anything."
"I don't want anything. I don't have the voice you need."
"How do you know what we need? You don't even like metal."
"My point."
Eddie huffed out a breath, frustration sinking in.
But then, a thought occurred to him.
"What if we covered a few songs you like?"
"Like what?"
"Anything. We have range."
"You have...range."
His voice was so monotone, Eddie almost laughed.
"Yeah! Gareth actually listens to a lot of stuff you do, and Jeff has a secret obsession with David Bowie. You can have three songs of your choosing."
"Hm. Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"Wanna join me?"
Eddie visibly startled at the turn of events.
Did he want to join Steve in the shower? Of course he did, always. But at this moment, he was pretty sure this was a distraction tactic.
And it was gonna work.
"Fine."
The distraction worked for a while, Steve's mouth always finding ways to make Eddie's brain stop functioning.
But eventually, Eddie brought it back up and Steve agreed to go to the next practice and try.
Steve was the band's missing puzzle piece, just like he'd been Eddie's.
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marchsfreakshow · 3 months
Text
Gotta Dance! [Peter Maximoff]
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Fluff//drabble
You like to dance to yourself to whatever cassette you had in your walkman, and when a silver haired friend of yours finds you, he decides to just have a bit of fun.
Omg okay I finished 3 xmen movies with Maximoff in em, and gah I understand why people love him now. Heres a fic.
I made it decently time accurate I think so tell me if there are any inaccuracies.
No one's perspective
⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷
Peter was always one to dance if he had a chance, especially to his own music taste. Classical or fancy music was always too slow.
So why on earth was he staring at you through a window? Watching you move around the empty hall, at 1am in the dark. Music in your headphones, blasting at a volume that could've burst anyone's eardrums. Yet, he couldn't tell the song playing in your ears. All he could tell was that he liked the way you moved. Swift movements, like an audience being danced around, walking around your footsteps. You were in your own mind, not particularly caring if anyone else was awake. If someone was, it was probably Charles, attempting some work.
A new pair of footsteps once you were done. Now, catching your breath, you were sat in one of the corners, admiring the hall around you. The rest of your music went on, and you didn't hear the steps until they stopped next to you. A hand pulling your headphones off your head. Your reaction was quick, and you grabbed his wrist tightly. "Hey! Calm, just noticed you were alone. That's all." That voice was so familiar to you. So close to your memory.
You let go of his wrist slowly but kept your eyes on the dark figure standing beside you. "What you are doing up at 1 in the morning then?" You questioned, trying to piece together a puzzle. The answer? Who was it smooth-talking their way into your tired mind? Then a glimmer of the moonlight hit mystery figure's hair. A silver shimmer. Of fucking course. Peter Maximoff. The one person who you particularly did not hope saw you dance just now.
"Fast body fast brain. Can never usually slow down enough to get enough sleep."
An eyebrow raised then crossed arms. "You sure about that Silver? Every time I go to talk to you, you're snoring the whole school down."
"Silver? Very creative."
"Silver Sliver. Like a silver snake who slivers around whenever he gets a chance." A cocky grin as you reminded Peter of why you nicknamed him 'silver sliver' a nickname always on the tip of your tongue. But also now ignoring the sneaky jab about how much he actually slept.
He hummed and nodded towards your own Walkman. "Who are you listening to?"
"This new singer I found called Taco. He's literally called Taco it's so funny." You rambled, rewinding it to the previous song and putting the headphones on him.
Puttin' On The Ritz.
It was smooth, almost buttery to you, but Maximoff simply stood there and nodded along. "Too slow for you Silver?" A chuckle escaped you, leaning your elbow on the radiator.
"Not at all." He grinned. Not that you could see how he grinned. But the way he spoke made you think he was planning something. Hands grabbing yours, pulling you away from your safe little corner. A groan was heard along with a small fit of giggles. What on earth had you dragged yourself into?
In the silence, the faint tune of the song was heard, and he started to dance, holding your hands, and whipping you around. Even in the musk of the night both of you held eye contact with each other, feeling oh so fancy with a song about The Ritz. What an odd feeling to have with your best friend. Sensing comfort when he held you close, exaggerating his steps, exaggerating his facial expressions even though you couldn't see them that well. That damn speedster.
Minutes went by fast. Both of you stood wherever as the new song could faintly be heard. "You're a good dancer." You noted with a smile, still holding hands and reluctant to let go.
"yeah. I think you're pretty good too." Cocky as ever. Feeling like he was on top of the world or something. "So..." Maximoff started, you hummed and tilted your head to the side slightly.
"Can I get you a drink or something?"
"...Sure." a little laugh. "Preferably when it's daytime."
A shared nod before the speedster brought you close again and danced with you.
⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷
Tagging those who might enjoy this: @babygorewhore @silverzoomies @taintandviolent @slutforgarlogan @slvt4jamesmarch @coentinim @fear-is-truth
(other mutuals let me know if you would like a tag 💜)
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lonelywhalien22 · 6 months
Text
ten seconds to midnight
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pairing: jungkook x gn reader
rating/genre: second chance, fluff + sprinkle of angst or angst + sprinkle of fluff idk lol
summary: it's new year’s eve and you see your ex jungkook again for the first time since you broke up with him.
warnings: time and location are abstract af in this fic so don’t try to piece together distances or a timeline from anything in this; I wrote it in a more poetic fashion – it’s just a *vibe* if you will lol
word count: 4.6k
song(s) to listen to while reading: tis the damn season by taylor swift, ruin by shawn mendes, new year’s day by taylor swift
note: cleaned this up to share while I edit my next longfic – this is something sweet with a sprinkle of midnight angst. if you happen to enjoy this fic you’ll probably like what I have coming next so stay tuned. happy new year’s everyone and i’ll see you all next year <3
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Two years.
It had been two years since you and Jungkook had seen each other for the first time in that art history class – had studied together, hung out together, and eventually dated.
Six months.
It had been six months since you'd left suddenly. Unexpectedly.
Six months since those words were flung like daggers between the two of you, as if you’d been in a competition to see who could hurt the other more – who could prove they were less attached than the other was. Pretending as if all of those late nights, whispered confessions, soothing touches, and sweet kisses had meant nothing.
As if in some sort of war, the two of you had thrown, burned, abandoned, and trashed every last remnant of your relationship, overcompensating to try and prove that none of the feelings were real, that the vulnerability was all a lie, and that you'd actually been keeping your shields up all along.
It's the reason you moved further away than you'd originally planned after you graduated - why you’d signed on to the extra work at your job, the extra responsibilities…you’d even gotten a new phone number, claiming you wanted a completely fresh start.
It's the reason why your brief visit home during the holidays this year just wasn’t the same. Why Jungkook didn’t stop by with the rest of his family to drop off gifts or send cards. Why you no longer saw him at the store he always used to frequent at a specific time, the two of you in charge of picking up whatever your respective families had forgotten for Christmas dinner.
It seemed like you and Jungkook had finally succeeded in creating an irreparable chasm between the two of you.
So instead, you spent your short visit home for the holidays nervously traversing the town that still held memories of him. You pushed your cart through the local grocery store in a near state of paranoia, drove around town with the windows up, let others in the house open the door when you got the usual holiday greetings from family and friends.
You didn't miss him, you told yourself.
Even as you chose to go to his mom's favorite grocery store, or mindlessly drove by some of your old spots from when you two had been together - eagerly looked out the window of your old childhood bedroom whenever you heard the doorbell ring.
You didn't miss him.
Now it was New Year’s Eve, and you currently found yourself outside on a fire escape in the chilly night air, high above a city you were still getting to know, at a party you didn't want to be at, terrified to go back inside.
How exactly had that happened?
Let’s take a few steps back.
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The New Year’s Eve party was one put together by some old friends from college you’d reconnected with in the area.
None of them felt particularly close, but after spending last New Year’s Eve alone in your tiny studio apartment guzzling down an entire bottle of champagne and falling asleep before the ball had even dropped, you figured you’d try getting out and doing something in the city you were trying to call home for once.
As you walked into the crowded party space, you immediately scouted out the food and beverages area - your trusty diversion ever since you’d been to your first party as an underclassman in college, terribly shy and fearful of large crowds. You could still remember the moment you’d spotted Jungkook from afar for the very first time in a cramped living room all those years ago - laughing with his friends in a corner, his eyes on you for the tiniest of milliseconds before he went back to sipping whatever was in his red solo cup. It was his hands you’d noticed first, the handful of tiny tattoos scattered across his knuckles. You’d been so surprised when he’d said hello to you in a class one semester later, even more so when he’d smiled easily as he admitted to remembering you, the mural of tattoos on his right hand having spread, two new ones on his index finger and another near his wrist.
Back in the present, you grabbed a few cookies and some water, slowly sipping on your beverage of choice as you resolved yourself to silently watching the party from a distance. You were here – that was progress enough wasn’t it?
"Y/n?" you heard someone shout your name eagerly.
You were surprised since you didn't think you knew anyone at this party all that well, but the friendliness of the voice made you perk up.
Turning your head in the direction of the voice, you recognized the owner as an old friend from back home.
"Changkyun?" you exclaimed, shocked.
You hadn’t seen him in forever. He was so tall and almost athletic in his build now, that you almost didn’t recognize him.
"Hey! Wow, long time no see!" he smiled and immediately pulled you in for a hug. It nearly squeezed the surprise right out of you.
You two began a conversation and caught up, laughing over old memories and how much you’d each changed since last seeing the other before he interjected quickly.
"Now that I think about it, pretty sure I saw someone else you know around here..." he pondered out loud, scanning the crowd before he spotted who he was looking for.
"Oh yeah, Jungkook is here. Hey JK!"  you heard Changkyun quickly shout across the crowd towards the center of the room.
Before you could even fully register the name of your ex you glanced over to where your friend was calling, instantly spotting the back of a familiar head of hair, though it was longer than you remembered, the ends curling slightly from the length.
“J-Jungkook..." you repeated quietly, eyes widening as your brain registered what was happening.
"You good?" Changkyun asked, noticing the change in your expression. "Oh shit, wait - you two were together at some point weren’t you? Did I -"
The rest of his words evaporated into nothing but muffled noise as you watched the head of your ex swivel around, searching for the source of the voice that had called his name. He was still as mesmerizing as ever - those big brown eyes and soft lips. His hair fell into his eyes as he turned, and it made your view of him both painfully nostalgic and exhilarating all at once.
He was gorgeous. Just like you remembered.
You stood frozen, eyes wide in admiration, until Jungkook’s gaze singled in on you and broke you out of your trance. Quickly his eyebrows furrowed in confusion before they lifted up softly upon recognizing you. You watched as he mouthed your name, as if he was asking himself whether or not it was really you. But it was all muddled within seconds as you realized your vision was beginning to blur. Your throat dried up and your head began to pound, and finally you realized you were about to cry.
For some inexplicable reason, you were upset.
"Damnit," you muttered to yourself, looking down, a tear slipping down your cheek against your will.
"Y/n, are you ok?" you heard Changkyun ask beside you, but you only shook your head quickly.
"I…I gotta go," you barely managed to choke out before turning away and pushing through the crowd as fast as you could. You quickly reached the front door and tumbled out, searching for the elevator before instead opting to take the stairs rather than risk standing around for any longer.
After wandering around aimlessly for a couple floors you came upon a shaky fire escape entrance and yanked open the doors, cool air slapping your face like a tide in a storm. It brought goosebumps to your skin - the chill of the night breeze, the cool steel grates that scraped against your thighs as you sat down, the hard brick of the wall against your back, but still - you found yourself grateful for the getaway.
You shimmied to the side so you couldn’t be seen from the glass door entrance and tried to make yourself comfortable in the space that remained, your legs slipping into a makeshift crisscross position. It was ridiculously cramped, and probably not at all safe, but at least it was quiet. The isolation gave you a chance to work through some of your thoughts without interruptions from annoyingly drunk partygoers.
"Why did I come here," you whispered to yourself, frustrated.
You knew how much you hated parties, and yet you'd gone anyways, only to find yourself in the very situation you’d been fearing since the holidays had come upon you – trapped with him just steps away and nowhere to run or hide.
You were terrified to face all the damage you’d left behind in your breakup with Jungkook - the stuffed closet full of baggage and hastily thrown together lies that you knew would all come tumbling down if you ever saw him again.
If you were being honest, you'd been running from this very scenario ever since you’d broken up with him. Because somehow, after all this time, he still wouldn't leave your head - his smile, the sound of his laugh, the way he could be incredibly cute but could also make you completely flustered at the flip of a switch.
The way he’d felt like a best friend, a confidante, and a lover all at the same time. How he’d made you feel so loved in a way only he could.
You had searched for that same feeling in others, from the occasional coworker to the random blind date, but no matter how hard you tried you couldn't get yourself to fall out of love with him. And deep down, you think you always knew it. You'd be lying if you said there wasn't some part of you that saw a piece of him in everything you did and everywhere you went. You just couldn't lie to yourself anymore – not after seeing how you'd reacted from just seconds of seeing him in person again.
You took a few deep breaths, staring out at the lights and bustle of the city as your finger trailed longingly up and down one of the steel bars that separated you from the open air. Funny how the rest of the world just continued to go on, even when it felt like your little corner of it was being shaken to no end like a snow globe in a child’s hands.
But watching all the cars and pedestrians below carrying on with their lives – it also helped you put your worries into perspective - helped you keep calm.
Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by the cracking open of the fire escape door.
Please don't be a couple, please don’t be a couple, you thought to yourself. The last thing you needed were some handsy lovebirds interrupting your ruminations and reminding you of your own failures in the relationship department.
"Y/n?" you heard someone whisper softly. "Y/n, you out there?"
You’d recognize that voice anywhere - warm and soothing when it was singing along to a song on the radio, smooth and sweet like caramel when it was directed towards you, and immediately your body tensed.
The voice continued to call your name again and again, and you could hear his footsteps shuffling around closer and closer to you in the dark. Folding into yourself and squeezing your eyes shut, you prayed he didn’t notice you, or maybe he’d think you were some stranger - turn around and leave you out here all alone like you thought you wanted.
The footsteps continued until you heard the door open one last time, someone mumbling something too far away for you to hear before banging it shut again. You figured he didn't see you, deciding to look elsewhere, and your shoulders relaxed again.
"Didn't think I’d see you here," you suddenly heard loud and clear.
"Fuck," you shouted, too spooked to really think about it before your reflexes kicked in and you jumped, quickly turning towards the voice. "I thought I was alone out h-"
As soon as you looked up you saw that it was your ex. He stood feet away, one hand still lingering on the fire escape entrance.
"Jungkook."
You mumbled his name, aggravated as he raised a brow at your rare curse.
Quickly, you angled yourself back towards the view of the skyline, shaking your head profusely as you attempted to make him go away.
"I don't wanna see you."
"Believe me, this wasn't really how I pictured spending my night either," he retorted, and you couldn’t even lie - the words felt like a cold knife straight to your heart.
He took just one tiny step forward, hand falling from the rusted metal handle of the door.
"I couldn't just let you go off crying though."
"I wasn't crying," you spat out. It was your roughest voice yet, but Jungkook didn’t even flinch.
"You're still shit at lying," he said with a smirk instead. "We may not be together anymore, but I can still recognize the face you make when you're about to cry."
You wished he’d elaborate so you could practice never making that face again, but he just stood still, glancing back through the window. It both annoyed the heck out of you and made your heart flutter, knowing he could still read you like that.
He took another few steps towards you. Like a giant, his stature towered over you as he continued to stand, his feet careful not to step on your fingers.
"Anyways, you left this," he suddenly said, a chunk of metal entering your view. It was your phone.
How that happened, you had no idea. You must have placed it on a nearby table as you ate, distracted by you conversation with Changkyun. You grabbed it swiftly, careful not to touch his hand in any way, but you still couldn’t help but notice the decorative ink that now danced all over his fingers, the way his skin reddened in the cold.
Did he notice you still used the phone case he’d bought you for your birthday?
"Thanks," you told him curtly instead, avoiding his gaze.
You kept quiet, expecting him to finally go away now that he’d returned your phone but instead the silence lingered, Jungkook’s feet shuffling awkwardly.
“Come back inside Y/n,” he said, tone gentle, the edges of his jawline softening.
“Why?”
Jungkook looked down, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Changkyun’s worried about you,” he mumbled eventually. “…and besides, it’s dangerous - sitting out here all alone like that.”
“I’ll be fine. No need to worry about me.”
You could feel his frustration brewing as he looked at you in silent incredulity, a cloudy huff leaving his lips in the night air before you felt him sit right down beside you. His denim-clad knee scraped yours just faintly as he settled into a comfortable position. Together the two of you took up nearly all the space on the tiny ledge.
"You want a drink?" Jungkook offered coolly, a cup of red liquid seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
It was tempting, but you hesitated. After all, you weren’t looking to get inebriated while on a shaky fire escape with your ex nearby to bear witness to some sort of embarrassing, drunken confession of longing. You generally preferred to stay sober anyways.
"It's just cranberry juice,” he told you, as if he could read your mind. “They have a bunch of it to mix with the cocktails."
Fuck.
Not only did he remember how much you hated alcohol, but also that cranberry juice was your favorite?
"You're the only person I've ever met who drinks that stuff," he used to always joke.
Back in the present, you took the cup from his hands, finally looking at him to search his face briefly, but his expression gave nothing away. You took a sip to busy yourself.
A blanket of silence fell between you. It wasn’t awkward or even necessarily tense, but it didn't feel like it was truly quiet either. Instead, it was more like there were a bunch of unsaid words bouncing around between the two of you, trying but failing to break out.
"What're you thinking about?" Jungkook asked innocently, looking down at one of his hands before focusing back on the view of the city skyline.
"Nothing," you shook your head tersely, only to hear the tiniest of hums escape his lips out of disbelief.
"So you're outside all alone, staring at the sky in the freezing cold and nothing's wrong? You sure about that?"
You closed your eyes, more and more memories rushing back to you – like the times Jungkook used to find you alone out on the campus green, just sitting with the palm of your hand pressed against your cheek, pouting as you stared at some point in the clouds. Or how he used to poke you on the nose whenever you laid your head in his lap and stared into space, that same pensive look on your face. His words were always the same every single time.
"What're you thinking about?"
It was beginning to drive you crazy the more you thought about it – how, even after all this time apart, he was still able to pick up on little things like that.
And it made you feel even crazier when you thought about the fact that you still remembered those little things about him too.
Trying to keep yourself from becoming any more affected by his words, you tried a slightly more aggressive approach.
"Well maybe I would be fine if I was actually alone."
But he only turned to face you at that remark, another deep sigh escaping his lips.
"Y/n/n.." he used your nickname this time, and he sounded regretful, like your words had actually stung. "Look, I just wanna make sure you're ok."
"I'm am ok," you said back harshly.
Another bout of silence fell between you at that – this one like a cascade of bricks instead of a gentle blanket.
"Why are you acting like I'm the one who did you wrong?" Jungkook piped up, exasperation inching into his voice.
"Last time I checked, I told you I wanted to be left alone."
"You know that's not what I'm talking about,” he said, undeterred by your attempt to change the subject.
You didn’t respond immediately, not ready to talk about your breakup out in the open.
You weren’t sure you'd ever be ready.
"I told you I wanted to experience other places…" you started after a minute or so, quieter than expected. "You know I never wanted to stay so close to home."
"And I get that, but one week?" Jungkook asked incredulously. "How could you only tell me a week before you left? I thought I meant more to you than that."
You huffed out loud in frustration, unsure how to respond.
It was true - you did tell Jungkook about your big move only seven days before you left. You did it out of fear.
Because you were scared.
You and Jungkook had gotten so close after only two years, and you’d never felt that way about a person before - you’d never felt in love.
It scared you - especially when you thought that maybe you were just getting too attached, too quickly.
If there was one thing you hated, it was dependency. Needing someone else felt like an indefensible weakness, and you were afraid that being with him, needing him, would only hold you back.
All you’d wanted was some space to cool off and clear your head - evaluate how you felt from a distance in solitude, like you always did when you felt overwhelmed by your emotions. When you finally did tell Jungkook about the move, you were hoping you two would just dial things down a little - keep in touch remotely while you took some time to think about your life post-graduation.
But instead, the whole thing had turned into one big shouting match.
Hurtful words had been thrown like weapons on both sides, and by the time the dust had settled, you were driving hundreds of miles away.
You’d ignored his calls, deleted his texts, and even refused to listen to appeals from your mother, who still kept in touch with his family. Distancing yourself away from him had only made your worst fears become a reality, and in turn made it even easier to run away from it all rather than confront your fears head on.
Avoidance was the only way you knew how to approach things that were hard - uncomfortable.
And maybe that's why you were sitting here on this damn fire escape in the first place.
"I just wanted some space," you defended yourself.
"But so suddenly? Was there something I did wrong?" he asked you dejectedly.
You turned to look Jungkook in his eyes, and behind his seemingly calm face you could see real pain. You really had hurt him, and in that moment you wished you could tell him the truth – that he hadn't done anything wrong. He'd done everything right, but you just hadn't known how to deal with the intensity of your feelings.
"Did you really have to change your number? Pretend like I didn't even exist?" Jungkook spoke up again.
"That's not fair," you shook your head. "You really hurt me with your words when I finally did tell you."
"Because you broke my heart," he exclaimed, getting visibly upset. "You told me you never loved me - that all of those memories, all those moments we shared...” he looked down for a moment. “You said none of it mattered. That I’d ‘taken it the wrong way.’"
"I didn't mean any of that," you blurted out loud.
"That's what I told myself," Jungkook started, "but what was I supposed to think when you completely cut me out of your life?"
You sniffled silently, unable to come up with any more excuses.
Simply put, you’d both really hurt each other.
As you focused back on all the lights down below, legs beginning to cramp, you felt a curtain of warmth envelop your shoulders.
Jungkook had draped his denim jacket across your body. You couldn’t help but fixate on how the fabric was soft and worn, and it smelled just like him - that same combo of body wash and cologne that you still couldn’t erase from your memory.
"Are you two dating?" you heard him ask quietly.
"What?" you asked, confused before putting two and two together. "Me and Changkyun? No…"
The question took you aback. What did it matter to him anyways?
"I came alone and ran into him unexpectedly," you explained further. "Why are you here?"
"An old classmate invited me," he told you casually, contemplating his next words for a moment before continuing. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping that maybe I'd see you though..."
You felt your heartbeat quicken at the casual admission, but you didn’t have much time to think about what it meant as he smoothly moved on.
"What about you? I thought you hated parties."
You sighed, hesitant to be so honest but feeling a strange sense of courage regardless.
"Well normally I do, but last New Year’s just...wasn’t all that great," you started.
"How so?"
You took a deep breath before continuing, counting off the reasons on your fingers. "Well, I was alone. And it sucked. I didn't even make it to midnight before I just fell asleep. So I decided this year I'd try going out instead."
"And how's it going?" Jungkook asked, the tiniest hint of a twinkle in his eye. “Tonight, I mean.”
Was he flirting with you right now?
"Not sure yet…" you played along, "but I'm still awake so that's a plus."
Again you sat quietly for a few minutes, neither of you making a move, not a single word shared between the two of you. This time the silence was comforting. You became hyper aware of his knee brushing against your own, and your insides felt so warm that suddenly the cold air didn’t faze you at all.
Maybe, just maybe…
Your quiet stalemate was interrupted when the fire escape door slammed open and the sound of drunken giggles grew louder and louder, a shaggy head of hair sticking itself outside to ogle at the two of you.
"Oh, shoot, looks like this one's taken babe," the random guy shouted in a slurred voice.
"Well hurry up and find somewhere else, I can't wait any loooonger," some poor girl whined, just as tipsy.
They disappeared as quickly as they came, the door shutting with a bang, and you and Jungkook couldn't help but burst out into laughter.
"Was their plan to screw each other on the balcony?" you heard him utter your exact thoughts aloud. Not so innocent memories crept into your mind for a split second before you squashed them.
He's still your ex, you reminded yourself.
"Not sure,” you said instead with a chuckle, “but it certainly looks like we’ve reached that point in the evening where I typically remove myself from the situation."
You pulled your phone out to check the time. "It's midnight,” you realized.
You two had been out there together for over half an hour.
"Guess that means it's time to go, huh?" you heard him ask.
"Yeah…"
Neither of you moved to get up though.
You weren’t expecting to still be with Jungkook at this point, and suddenly you were unsure of what to do. How did one say goodbye to an ex?
How did you say goodbye when you didn't want to?
"Y/n?" Jungkook said your name, pulling you out of your thoughts. You looked at him with bated breath, urging him to continue as fireworks began to go off in the distance.
"Um…" he stalled, clearly trying to find the right thing to say next.
Hating the silence, you improvised, taking off his jacket to give back. The warmth that previously enveloped you disappeared immediately, and it left you feeling strangely empty.
"Here, let me give you back your jacket before I forget."
"Oh…yeah, thanks," he said, a hint of sadness in his voice.
As he leaned over to grab it, you quickly kissed his cheek before backing away and looking down, brushing the hair out of your face.
"Sorry if that was weird," you started, "but I just…wanted to apologize. For everything I put you through back then."
To your surprise, Jungkook shifted a little closer to you, lips pulled into a soft smile as he shook his head. "You don't deserve all the blame. We both said things we shouldn't have, and I'm sorry too."
Butterflies burst free in your belly, and the fireworks that lit up the sky seemed to form a faint outline around Jungkook’s head as he stared at you, eyes boring into your own, keeping you frozen in place.
His hand slipped into yours lightly, and you looked at them for a split second, fingers intertwined in warmth as he spoke. Slowly but surely, you felt yourself drawn towards him in a familiar lure, like a moth to a flame.
Like a wanderer finding their way back home.
"Any chance we could just pretend like it's ten seconds to midnight again?" you asked shyly, and he instantly cracked the biggest smile you’d seen from him all night.
Jungkook said nothing, instead leaning in to kiss you gently.
181 notes · View notes
alornights · 1 year
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⟢ gossip session.
➜ in which ! kyle finds himself interested in your gossip.
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💌 ﹫kyle broflovski.
✩ 🎸 warnings﹗gossip about teacher/student affair.
🍓 ⟡ notes — i love gossiping lmao. i also realized ive been spelling his last name wrong for like ages until now lmao.
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he loves it, no matter how hard he tries denying it, he love it.
at first, he didn't care for it, actually, he found it annoying. he never liked people talking about others behind their backs.
especially if they are personal matters.
so when you two are just in his room casually hanging out and your face-timing your friend talking about the latest school gossip he made sure to tune it out opting to listen to music.
until he one day overheard you gossiping because he forgot his headphones. then he starts paying attention and listening more carefully getting very interested in the story.
he can't help himself now from listening to your rambles.
"No, you don't understand Heather. PC Principal has no fucking clue about this which is surprising since he knows everything that goes on in this school. But like, how does he not know that a teacher is banging the head cheerleader of the school but fucking Butters of all people knows?"
"Yeah no, I have no idea how long it's been going on."
"I heard she might even be pregnant with the teacher's kid. Yeah, uh huh, no way- HE HAS 3 SEPARATE FAMILIES?"
kyle tries so hard not to ask because he knows it's not the right thing to do but in the end, he can't help himself.
he starts listening every chance he gets. trying to put pieces together if he hadn't heard the other parts of the story.
it gets so bad that he starts listening
hell, he even listens to some of cartman's gossip.
finally he admits he is gossip addict and decides to talk to you.
As you walked back into his room after having a quick call with one of your friends about the recent gossip that just surfaced.
Kyle sighed mentally bracing himself for what he was about to say.
"What happened next? With the teacher-student thing I mean..."
You stare at him incredibly, tilting your head in confusion. "Huh? I thought you hated gossip since you know it's people not minding their own business or whatever."
The teen grumbled a bit before turning away. "Maybe I've had a change of heart."
and when he means "change of heart"
he actually means he's so invested that its like an addiction.
the guy becomes a crazed gossip girl kicking his feet giggling.
Words couldn't describe the look of happiness on your face as you raced over to his bed slamming your body on top of him in giddiness. "Okay listen closely. So right now, 2 of the 3 families have found out about this situation and are all divorcing him."
"Actually?" He questioned sitting up, shifting you in his arms so you were both comfortable. "How the hell did he find out? Didn't you say that they all lived far away or something?"
You nodded. "They do but someone from our school who shall be unnamed, leaked it to them with photos of the teacher and student, well, getting the groove on after school in his class."
"No. Fucking. Way."
"Yes, way!" You clapped your hands with a smirk. "That's all for now since this just happened like 2 hours ago."
A beat of silence passes by until he looks back at you staring you dead in the eye. "You'll keep me updated... right?"
You laugh nodding your head excitedly. "You'll be the first to know."
889 notes · View notes
halfmoth-halfman · 2 months
Text
Preserve Your Love In A Field Of Tulips
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Pairing: Kento Nanami x GN!Reader Word Count: 3.9k Warnings: fluff, whump, bruises, blood, injury, shibuya aftermath, nanami survives shibuya A/N: we got the winner of the last fic poll!! it's my first fic in a while so i hope y'all enjoy it, and if you notice typos...no you didn't lmao
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You grow up next to a field of wildflowers, in a house that smells of summer and honey.
It’s been in your family for generations, a cozy two-story away from the noise and chaos of the city. As a child, your mother told you stories of it being built by a grandfather of a grandfather trying to find a place for himself in the world. The story changed each time, every retelling more fantastical than the last. Sometimes she claimed he came to this field to escape a great evil that haunted his family home. Other times she claimed that he’d fallen in love with a spirit that lived among the wildflowers and built his home here in hopes of seeing her again.
Your father’s explanation was far more practical, and probably closer to the truth. A simple story of a man wanting to see the world and build a legacy of his own without the overbearing opinions of his family. 
Whatever the truth, the house is yours now. 
Your little paradise, a space lovingly carved out of the world and meant just for you.
You do your best to honor their memory, to care for this gift you’ve been given properly. You tend to your mother’s herb garden, care for the shubunkin and tamasaba in your great uncle’s pond, and leave little pieces of yourself throughout the house to make it your own. 
You don’t mind the routine, finding peace in the feel of the sun warming your skin and the soft glow of fireflies at night. You know this is a gift meant to be shared, something made to pass on to your children and their children after. There’s no rush, you tell yourself. You’re content in your solitude, satisfied with the few close friendships you’ve nurtured over the years. Of course, those friendships were from your time spent abroad with no one close enough to actually meet with in person.
Maybe the isolation can be a bit much, but it’s not like you can’t visit the city at any time. 
“You have your whole life to find love,” your mother once told you while you helped her wash dishes, a knowing smile on her kind face. She’d taken a moment to lean down to you, glancing at your father as she whispered conspiratorially into your ear, “And this place has a way of sending you exactly what you need when you least expect it.” She winked at you then, returning to the dishes while humming a soft tune.
She spoke about your home like that often, as if it were a living, thinking thing. You struggled to believe her even as a child, sharing in your father’s more “practical” line of thought.
You should’ve known that even in death your mother was always right. 
Seven summers after you inherit the house, a week of harsh rains and unnatural winds leaves your land a mess of mud and branches. You spend far too many days trying to salvage your flooded herb garden and saving your fish from their overflowing pond. Only when the land is somewhat cleared does the storm return, disappearing and reappearing in patterns that purposely inconvenience you. 
You’re fed up, sitting hopelessly on the rain-soaked steps of your porch as the storm rages around you when a stranger appears.
Umbrella in hand, wearing a tan suit and strange sunglasses, the man politely ushers you inside “for your own safety”. It’s the only thing he says to you, offering no explanations for why he’s here or how he found this place. Sealed inside your house, no light except for the lightning flashing through your windows, you rush to the living room, climbing atop your couch to peer through your curtains and search for the stranger in your yard. 
It’s not hard to spot the blonde of his hair even through the heavy downpour, but your attention is immediately drawn to the massive creature swatting at him from the clouds. It’s grotesque, a twisted form of sharpened teeth and bloated, purple arms. The man is seemingly unbothered, dodging its swings with ease. The creature roars, echoes of thunder rattling the walls of your house. The skin on its many arms burst open, bolts of lightning shooting from its veins. The light is blinding, its roar pressing painfully into your eardrums until you’re crouched on your living room floor with your eyes shut and hands squeezing against your ears.
You don’t realize it’s over until a warm hand is laid on your shoulder, and you find the man crouched in front of you. He’s soaked, dripping red-tinted rainwater onto your floor, but he looks at you with genuine concern. 
“Are you alright?” he asks softly. 
So many questions swirl around your head: Who are you? What was that thing? Did you kill it? How did you do that? How did you know to come here? 
“Did that thing hurt my fish?” Is what leaves your mouth. The man blinks, surprise briefly flashing across his face. 
“I don’t think so.” 
You sag forward without thinking, your head coming to rest on his shoulder with a relieved sigh. Already you can feel exhaustion creeping in, your eyes sliding closed as you mutter a soft thanks. 
The man clears his throat, shifting awkwardly beneath you.
“The garden will need some work, however.”
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He’d introduced himself as Kento Nanami, politely offering to help clear out your garden before he left. You’d declined, exhausted and defeated, but thanked him nonetheless. He helped you to your feet, guiding you around the puddles on your floor as he brought you to the stairs. It took three times to assure him that you could make it to your room by yourself, and he still waited until you were at the top of the steps to take his leave.
It only takes you a day to convince yourself it was nothing more than a vivid dream brought on by stress and too little sleep. It’s easier to believe, far easier than the idea of a handsome stranger showing up in the middle of a storm to fight a massive sky demon in your front yard. If something so crazy had actually happened, surely there would be evidence of it. Yet, there are no stains on your living room floor, no destruction in your herb garden aside from some extra mud, no giant, bloated sky demon corpse lying around.
There’s nothing but your memories of an admittedly wild dream…
Nothing but your memories, and the handsome, blonde man dressed in a tan suit standing at your front door a week later. He ignores the stunned look on your face, holding up a blue gift bag decorated with cartoon goldfish and a talking turtle. You wordlessly take the bag, peering inside in equal parts curiosity and disbelief.
Lights shaped like white lotus flowers, polished rocks, and two yellow duck figurines. 
“A few pieces from your pond were damaged,” he explains. “Fish can get stressed if there are extreme changes to their environment.”
“You…” You blink up at him, trying to come to terms with the fact that the handsome man from your dream is, in fact, real and bringing you decorations to calm your fish. “It's Kento, right?”
“I apologize for the abrupt visit–”
“Where’d you put the body?” 
You’ve stunned him into silence once more, Kento staring at you with his mouth slightly open. He composes himself quickly, straightening with a small cough.
“The body?”
“The sky demon. That was real, right? I didn’t dream that? I don’t think I did ‘cause that would mean I dreamt you up, which…well, I might have – you seem like the type I’d dream of. But you’re standing in front of me right now, and I’m definitely not asleep. Unless I’m hallucinating…” 
You reach out without thinking, snatching your hand back the moment your fingertips meet the solid muscle of his torso. “Nope, you’re real and I’m...making a fool of myself.”
“It’s a lot to process,” he nods. You nod in return, eyes bouncing back between him and the bag in your hands. “I’m sure you need time–”
He takes a step back, and that’s all you need to snap back to reality.
“Yes, well no…” He pauses, waiting patiently as you take a deep breath to gather your words. 
“Thank you for the gift and the–” you gesture up to the clear, blue sky, “–demon…thing. If you’d like, you can come inside for a bit.”
Kento raises his brows, and you think you catch the brief twitch of his mouth. “That’s not necessary–”
“It’s more for me, really. I think I’m still trying to process…everything, and I could use the company.” 
You notice the way he glances down, a short look to the nervous smile on your lips to the shaking of your hands around the handles of the gift bag. If the rambling doesn’t give your nerves away, the rest certainly does, but Kento is polite enough not to mention it. 
“Alright,” he nods, lips pulled into a small smile. 
Over the afternoon, Kento eases you through a simple explanation of the curse – not demon – that had tried to make a home in your skies. The explanation leads into a wider conversation about curses as a whole and his role in dealing with them. He’s vague but patient, answering your questions in a calm manner that soothes your anxiety without going into detail. There’s more silence than there is conversation, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You’re sure he feels sorry for you, watching you try to navigate as your world gets flipped on its head.
Guilt sets in by late afternoon when you realize that his work is far more important than wasting time comforting you. You thank him for staying, letting him leave with more thanks than he’s probably comfortable with. He offers to come back in a few weeks if you need, but you assure him you’re fine. 
He gives you a smile, one you’re coming to understand means he sees right through your lies, before gesturing to the gift bag sitting on your coffee table. 
“I look forward to seeing what you do with the pond, then,” he says. “Since you’re sure you’re alright.”
He’s walking away before you can argue, and you swear you catch the hint of a smirk. 
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Kento visits three weeks later, keeping his word as he heads straight to your pond.
You took a trip to the city and bought a few more decorations since his visit, working on getting the pond back to normal as a way to distract your mind. You think you’ve come to terms with the idea of curses, though the feeling of being watched has spiked your paranoia.
“Not bad,” he hums, crouching down to assess the duck figurines you have next to the small waterfall.
“The fish seem to appreciate it,” you shrug, watching your fish happily circle the pond. He gives a contemplative hum, running a finger along the water’s surface to watch one of the tamasaba follow along the ripples. A comfortable silence stretches over the pond, broken a few moments later by the ringing of Kento’s phone. 
He stands, taking a few steps away before answering. You take his place at the pond’s edge, content to watch the fish circle along the gentle waves and listen to Kento’s murmurs into his phone. He hangs up with a deep sigh, rejoining you at the pond. 
“More demon stuff to deal with?” you ask teasingly. 
“Next time I’ll bring something for the garden,” he says, watching the fish circle for a few seconds before looking to you.
“Next time?” 
He nods, and you smile wide, “Next time, then.” 
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Kento visits two weeks later, a bag of star-shaped lights that he spends the afternoon stringing along your garden fence. He sticks around until after the sun sets – just to make sure the lights work, he claims – promising to fix the loose step on your porch before he leaves. 
Once your step is fixed, he insists on fixing the missing piece to your porch railing. 
After that, it’s the way your kitchen window squeaks when you slide it open. 
Then, it’s the loose knob on your front door.
Then the uneven chair at your dining table.
The bent bottom shelf of your bookcase. 
The crooked picture in the upstairs hallway.
Fixes turn to small talk turns to long conversations turns to lunch in the herb garden turns to sunsets by the pond. 
“What happens when there’s nothing left to fix?” you ask, watching the last of the sun’s light disappear beyond the horizon. “You have to be running out of stuff by now.” You try not to sound anxious, try not to worry that this may only be a passing fancy for him.
Kento pauses, finger still on the pond’s surface. He thinks for a moment, soft breeze ruffling the fabric of his blue shirt. A shiver skims across your skin, and you pull his jacket tighter around your shoulders. 
“Nothing to fix…” he mutters, pulling his hand from the pond to pick up one of the duck figurines. He glances at you before holding the duck up and letting go. You gasp as it breaks against the stone next to him. Kento’s gaze slides to you, a smirk stretched across his handsome face as he picks up another duck. A playful hum as he pretends to think, letting the second duck drop and break. 
“Looks like you need new ducks.” 
You don’t try to hide your laughter, playfully shoving against his shoulder as he sweeps the figurine pieces into a small pile. 
He stays an extra ten minutes that night, cleaning up the broken ducks and double-checking that nothing got into the pond. When you hand his jacket back, he refuses to take it. Instead, he makes you promise to return it when he comes back with new ducks and departs with a kiss on your cheek that has you too stunned to argue. 
After seven months of fixing, then breaking, then fixing again, you stand across from Kento in your living with nothing left for him. Nothing to break nor to fix. You’re sure that won’t stop him – you can see him already eyeing your bookcase – but you’re tired of your things caught in a constant state of not quite usable.
You have a much better idea. One that’s been stewing in your brain since he first appeared at your door with a bag of pond decorations. 
Your teeth sink into your bottom lip when his back is turned, pulling at the skin until it gives and you taste iron. The sting makes you hiss, and Kento turns to you with a startled quickness. His eyes immediately fall to the blood on your lips, watching intensely as your tongue darts out to lick it away. 
“Any way you can fix–”
One hand on your jaw, the other on your neck, Kento pulls you forward until his lips are on yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, the sting pulling a sharp gasp from your mouth. He swallows it with another kiss, a desperate groan as his hand slides from your jaw into your hair. 
You part from him with a soft push, but he refuses to go far, leaning his forehead against yours. The hand on your neck moves to cup your cheek, thumb gently tracing the cut on your lip. 
“Better?” he rasps, pulling his fixated gaze from your mouth to your eyes. 
“Not sure,” you breathe, leaning in until your lips brush against his. “You might have to do it again.”
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Over the next two years, you learn just how difficult life can be loving a Jujutsu sorcerer. 
While each moment spent with Kento is nothing short of bliss, it makes his absence all the more painful. Nights without him are spent worrying over his safety, doing everything in your power to not call the one number he’d given you in case of emergencies. Pain lingers in your chest every time you watch him walk out the door, threatening to squeeze your heart until it pops. 
Despite your feelings, you let him go every time.
And every time he returns to you. 
Most of the time he’s exhausted, and you’re more than happy to take care of him, to get him fed and washed and safe in bed. Sometimes he returns with new bruises or the occasional stitched wound. You fuss over him, and, despite his insistence that you don’t need to, he lets you do it.
The worst is when not all of him makes it back. It’s rare – Kento isn’t one to let his work affect his home life – but it does happen. On those days he sits by the pond, watching the fish go in circles for hours on end while you tend to the garden or pick wildflowers to decorate the house. 
He comes back to himself slowly, always apologizing with overwhelming affection when he’s more himself. There’s no reason for him to be sorry, you’ve told him so countless times. He’s here with you and that’s all you need.
He shares his plans with you late those nights, dreams of the two of you on a beach in Malaysia. You’re lulled to sleep by the whispered fantasies of the ocean breeze, the sun on your skin, and a ring on your finger. 
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The first time you meet Takuma Ino, you slap him.
You don’t mean to – you’ve heard so many good things about him from Kento – but he appears on your doorstep, face bruised and spirit broken, and the words come spilling out of his mouth as thick and harsh as his tears. 
Curses. Attack. Shibuya. 
Burning. Kento. 
Not sure if he’ll make it.
You act before you think, leaving yet another mark on his already wounded face. You apologize immediately, but he takes it in stride. A pained smile on his face, Ino helps you pack a bag and brings you to Jujutsu High for the first time. 
Your introduction to Shoko is the stench of cigarettes and being bluntly told there’s little chance of Kento surviving his injuries. You’re too tired to worry, only desperate to see him. She gives you a pitying smile, allowing you and Ino into the infirmary. 
Your strength leaves you the moment you lay eyes on Kento’s bandaged form. Ino keeps you steady, a hand grasping your arm to keep you upright while he slides a chair over for you. You collapse into the chair, eyes fixated on your love.
You’ve seen him injured, but never to this extent. Only his upper half is visible to you, his torso and left arm completely wrapped in bandages. Those bandages extend up the left side of his neck, packed with gauze as it covers the left side of his face. 
You reach over, gently brushing a piece of his hair from his face. His face contorts, a pained groan escaping his lips. You pull your hand back, heart-shattering at his labored breaths. 
You’ve seen him soft, vulnerable, hurt, but never weak. 
He groans again, muscles tensing, hand fisting into the thin sheet over his lower half. You set your hand over his, tenderly running your thumb across his knuckles. Murmurs of praise and love rush past your lips as you try to comfort him. 
Ino sets a hand on your shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. A silent question if you’re alright. You look back at him with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You give his hand a light squeeze, a million thanks on the tip of your tongue. 
He moves your bag next to your chair, eyes glancing to the infirmary door. 
“If you need anything…” he says softly. You nod, watching Ino give Kento one last look of deep anguish before he forces himself away. 
His footsteps fade. The door clicks shut. Kento groans, blood staining the bandages on his face. 
You weep. 
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Recovery is long and hard. 
The first weeks back home are spent struggling to adjust, Kento to his slow healing injuries and you to his attitude. He’s never angry or short with you, always appreciative of your efforts, and far more considerate of your feelings than his own, but you can see the exhaustion in his face. You catch the way he deflates when he thinks you aren’t looking, the way he frowns whenever he passes by a mirror, the way he politely avoids your affection.
He may not voice it, but you know he feels defeated. 
You keep yourself in good spirits, telling yourself that your optimism will catch on eventually.
And it does.
Months pass and Kento learns to move more, talk more, smile more. Ino visits on occasion, the two of you playfully bullying Kento into getting the rest he deserves while you make dinner. Shoko once a week, then once every other week, then once a month, keeping an eye on Kento’s recovery. Her visits aren’t long, and she’s still terribly blunt with you, but you go out of your way to ensure she knows how grateful you are to her, and she gives you a rare smile just before she leaves.
Things are good for the most part. Bad nights still happen, as they are bound to after what he’s been through. Nights when Kento’s trapped in his memories until you manage to wake him. Nights when he can’t sleep, sitting out by the pond until long after the sun has risen. Nights when he flinches at even the softest of touches from you. 
You worry. How could you not? But you’re there for him every step of the way, supporting him when he needs you there and giving him space when he doesn’t. 
He kisses you again six months after Shibuya. After a particularly bad nightmare, you coax him back into the waking world only to have him collapse into sobs against your chest. You hold him, soothe him, let him finally have this release. He sobs through apology after apology, to you, to Ino, to people you’ve never heard of. Everything spills out of him, every worry, every impossible dream, every fear, the neverending paranoia that one day you’ll regret wasting so much time on him.
“Never in my life would I regret you, Kento Nanami,” you tell him, hand softly cupping the ruined half of his jaw. “You’re stuck with me forever.”
He kisses you then, desperate and wanting, and you spend the night showing him every way you could love him now and forever. 
A year and a half after Shibuya, you lay in the field of wildflowers near your home with your fingers woven through the mottled and warped ones of your husband. It’s a peaceful afternoon spent gazing at clouds, sharing carefully sliced oranges, and basking in the warmth of the sun.
Kento turns, watching your eyes explore the sky as you smile and point at a cloud that’s shaped like a fish. Golden light on your face, petals stuck to your hair, you’ve never looked more beautiful to him. You catch him staring, laughter spilling out of you as you snuggle up to his side. You kiss his cheek, lifting the hand clasped in yours to point him toward your fish-shaped cloud.
He never sees the cloud, too distracted by the way your rings sparkle in the sunlight. 
It isn’t Malaysia, no. It’s far, far better.
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raphaelsrightarm · 6 months
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Hi ! can I request a (dating) Donnie x Fem!reader ? just a fluff one shot with the two doing something cute and wholesome up to your choosing such as a movie marathon, making brownies together, his comfort when you have bad cramps etc.
Breathe
Is this corny? Maybe. Actually yes it absolutely is. It's a selfish piece of mine and I make no apologies
Once again I apologize for a long wait and I have multiple old requests that I am still working on so stay tuned haha
My first Donnie fluff let's get it
Words: 2031
Warning: None
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You were laying on his chest when you realized he would match your breathing.
It was a rare kind of morning when he had left his lab behind and joined you in his own bed.  He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as he could. You folded into him so perfectly that it was hard for him to believe that there was ever another path for his life to take without you in it. 
There were times when he would tease you when the swirls across his plastron would put indents on your face, but not today. Today he ran the tips of his lithe fingers along your spine, your shirt pooled at the back of your neck. 
It was so rare to have these moments with him. To pull him from his desk and for him to let you do it, for him to leave behind his safe space. It wasn’t that he didn’t love these moments, he did. More than anything he did. But he was always worried about falling behind. His role was important, one that placed a weight on his shoulders that only you seemed to be able to free him of. 
He was trying to force himself to sleep, you figured out. He hadn’t spoken since he made his way in here to you, pulling you against him and enjoying how warm you were from being wrapped in his comforter all night.
You inhaled deeply against him, feeling him do the same. You had been rising and falling slowly against his plastron all morning, not yet noticing the synchronization. 
He didn’t seem to realize he was doing it, either. His rolling hand along your back had slowed to a stop, his eyes were gently shut. He had finally managed to fall asleep, his warm arm laying limp across you like a quilt.
His breathing had taken on its own rhythm then, but that didn’t stop you from attempting to further prove your theory.  
He appeared in your window the next evening as you were baking cookies. Everything was set out, scattered across the countertops. His eyes took in the explosion of baking supplies before him before finding you in the middle of it. Your expression a mixture of determination and frustration.
“You know,” He started, reveling in the smile you had when you saw him. “People say baking is supposed to be a relaxing activity.”
“Well, the people who say that are the people who are good at it.”
He moved closer to inspect your workstation, his finger running a line through a patch of what might either be flour or baking soda, both of which you had spilled. 
“I know it’s a mess.” You started, but before you could utter an apology at the state of the place, he smiled, shaking his head. 
“Who are these for?” He walked behind you, grabbing dirty measuring spoons and bowls and moving them closer to the sink. 
“They could be for you, if you clean up after me when I’m done.”
He made a show of looking around the kitchen, turning his head to the mess he had congregated to the sink, as well as the surfaces of the counters covered in powder. “I’m not sure I’ll be having any.”
You scoffed. “It’s not that bad.”
“Is this supposed to be on?” He gestured toward the oven, and only then did you realize you meant to begin preheating it when you started. The grin on his face meant he already knew the answer, so you turned your head back toward the bowl. Yet still grateful as you heard the oven beeping behind you as he set the temperature. 
After a few minutes the batch of cookies was in the oven, leaving nothing but 15 minutes to glare at the destroyed kitchen which, as part of the deal, Donnie had begun helping clean up. 
“I don’t understand how you can make a mess like this.” He said, picking up another measuring spoon, adding it to the pile of others to be washed. “Why did you need so many of these?”
“Need is maybe not the most accurate word.” You had the bag of flour in your hands when the possibility came to your mind. It was more of a thought that wouldn’t go away, one that you want to act out even though you knew you shouldn't.
Before you could stop yourself, you hand drifted into the bag, gathering up a small pinch of flour as you walked closer to him. He glanced up to you, unaware of what was coming, just before you flicked the flour toward him. 
You both watched as it barely drifted against him, yet the challenge that sparked in his eyes 
You made a useless attempt to save yourself. “That was an accident,” though saying it through fighting a stubborn laugh didn’t help. 
“I’m sure it was.” He took a step toward you, a smile pulling against his lips. You planned on sprinting around into your living room, maybe even making an attempt to lock yourself in the bathroom. You realized just a moment too late just how long his arms were, and they wrapped around your waist before you could register it. 
He practically tucked you underneath his elbow, freeing his other arm so he could, to your horror, reach his hand into the bowl of flour. 
“Don’t you dare.” You tried to make it sound like a threat, but your breath was short from laughter. Either way, it was a plea that landed on deaf ears as a flick of flour throughout what little space was left between the two of you. You clenched your eyes shut as it scattered across your face. He released you then, laughing so hard you heard him snort.  
You feigned offense, slowly reaching into the bowl yourself. You knew well that he could’ve been halfway across the room by the time you threw a handful of the powder back at him, yet he stayed where he was, the two of you laughing like children as the counters and surrounding floor became covered in a sprinkling of white dust. 
After a while, you doubled over, holding a hand on the counter as you tried to catch your breath. He placed a hand on your back, and slowly, suspiciously, you straightened out. 
You were greeted with a soft smile on his flour patched face, and you knew that if he had gotten hit that you must have been worse. He reached his hand up and ran a thumb across your cheek in an attempt to dust some of it off. 
“Have fun cleaning this up.” You said as he laughed again as he pulled you against his chest, your nose pressed to the underside of his jaw. 
“That could be a fun thing to do together.”
“Who said anything about us doing it together? We had a deal.”
“We never shook on it.” 
The two of you stayed in this moment, ignoring the chaos around you. You searched for it again then, taking in a deep breath, and feeling him do the same. Each breath he took a loving mimic. He felt you smile against his skin, and all he did was hold you tighter. 
It was a few days later  when you struck a deal with him that if he were to leave his desk behind he would be the one to decide what the two of you do. He had chosen movies, secretly because it meant he didn’t have to stray far from his work. 
Though, it wasn’t much of a secret anymore. There had been nights before when you thought you had been able to convince him to leave his lab to get some rest, only for him to sneak away the second you fell asleep. But tonight would not be one of them. 
The two of you had taken up the couch, his brothers making themselves scarce, which you were sure was Donnie’s doing, though you didn’t mind. He held you closer when no one else was around, his hands always absentmindedly massaging your skin.
He had decided upon the first Iron Man film, which was playing before the two of you. You were certain it was because he had seen it already so many times, and he would be ready with slipping back to his work. 
At least he thought he would be, until you decided you wanted to lay on top of him instead of next to him. 
It started with you draping your leg over his. Which he didn’t seem to mind, his hand going to rest easily on your knee. 
Then it turned into shifting to your side to place both your legs over his, hanging them between his knees. 
“What are you up to?” He whispered, his arm that was wrapped around you moving to run his fingertips across your shoulder blades. You shrugged at him, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced. 
The two of you stayed like this for a while, the movie half finished, before you flexed your knees, pulling yourself further onto his lap. He didn’t stop you, instead let out an amused sigh. You dramtically draped over the front of him, legs hanging over his, arms laying out over his sides. His hands went to their usual places on your torso as you felt him relax into the couch, resigning to his new fate. 
“You had this planned all along, didn’t you?”
Your smile answered his question.  “Now you’re stuck here.” You kissed his cheek. “With me.”
“I guess there are worse things.” His chest rising once again to match yours for a brief moment, his hands pressed to your ribs. “But not by much.” 
He laughed as you playfully swatted at his arm. 
His laughter had warped into a song to you. You blamed it on sleep deprivation and simply being wrapped up beside him for so long. 
He had texted you earlier that night to meet him on top of your roof and to bring a coat. When you had arrived, you saw how he had set up a little nest for the two of you. Blankets piled up beneath the two of you and draped over top. He had set up a projector, and the two of you watched a movie before turning attention to the sky, and what few stars you could see. 
The air had bite to it, and you pressed closer to him under the blankets than you were already. You were taking turns pointing out constellations for a while, before you began making up your own. Partly for entertainment, but mostly so you had more reason to stay out here. 
“That one looks like Elton John,” He said, pointing to a random cluster of lights in the sky.
“You’ve said Elton John already.”
“No I haven’t.” He traced the shape. “That’s his head, those are his glasses. Stars already.”
You laughed again. “Ok, that one looks bigger than the other ones, that one’s the north star.” 
“That’s not north.” He squinted. “And I think that’s an airplane.” 
“What?” You noticed then the blinking light tracing behind it, blaming your exhaustion on missing it the first time. “Oh.”
He laughed until he snorted, and you knew he must be tired as well. You found he laughed much easier when he hadn’t slept in a while. You knew the two of you should head inside soon, a safer spot to rest. But this night had been so nice, neither one of you wanted to mention the idea. 
“That one is Casseopeia.” You pointed to the same spot you had been pointing to all night, no longer even attempting to be correct. 
“Casseopeia also points north, dove.” 
“And that’s not north?”
He laughed again, tightening his hold around you. Your eyes became heavy, and you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of him so close to you. 
It was then you decided to confirm your theory once more, taking in a large breath of the chill air. He followed a second behind. 
You smiled, drifting off to sleep wrapped within the safety of his arms.
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bgomtori · 7 months
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☆ apple cider - c.bg
synopsis -> where the reader doesn't seem to like beomgyu as much as he does, but secretly she actually does.
-> inspired by beabadoobee's apple cider^^ here
-> music major! beomgyu x art major! reader
-> friends to lovers, sunshine x grumpy trope
-> note! yn may be a little cold and dry, but they'll come to realise!! theyre also a bit mean to gyu. do let me know if i missed out anyth! also im testing out different layouts so pls don't mind me 😞🙏
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"ynn!~" you groaned under your breath as you heard the familiar sounding voice call you from afar. you placed your pencil down, removing your earphones, looking at the boy that was now standing infront of you.
"i bought food for us." beomgyu said, with his signature grin that's always plastered on his face. he placed some beverages and bread on your table before sitting beside you.
"project again?" beomgyu asked, trying to persuade you to show him the drawings you've been planning on submitting as a mid year project. you nodded your head, biting down on the bread beomgyu bought for you. you sipped your banana milk as you opened your sketchbook, showing him your thought process, and the planning you do in order to come up with your final piece. you noticed at how beomgyu admired each and every one of your drafts, and planned work, you could basically see sparkles in his eyes.
"you're so good at this." beomgyu complimented, smiling shyly at you, you smiled slightly, thanking him before getting up to make your way to your next class down the hallways. this startled beomgyu, causing him to jump at the sudden movement.
"where you going?" beomgyu pouted, he barely spent any time with you, and now you're leaving him just like that.
"i'm heading to art class." you replied nonchalently, about to head out of your classroom. beomgyu quickly shoved down the last piece of bread into his mouth, grabbing the plastic wrappers he left on your table, chasing after you. you heard loud thumping noises and turned to see what was happening, only to see beomgyu standing directly beside you. you raised an eyebrow at him, as if you were asking him what he wanted.
"i'm walking you to art class!" beomgyu patted your shoulder, directing you to the direction of the art studio. beomgyu rambled on about his music major and how much pressure the teacher puts on them, you listened and hummed in response, making sure he thinks that you're listening. beomgyu happily continued his rambling session until you came to a halt, beomgyu paused too, to see what was happening
"thanks gyu, see you later?" you waved at him bye before heading into the art studio, beomgyu sadly waved bye to you as well. as soon as you weren't in sight, beomgyu's face turned red, he covered his face in embarrassment as he ran downstairs to find his friendgroup.
"oh no.. he's back." soobin whispered after noticing beomgyu's presence coming down the stairs to the canteen. the entire table sighed, mentally preparing themselves to hear an earful of things about you.
"i'm gonna kms, she said see you later, and thanked me for walking her to her class." beomgyu squeeled, smacking yeonjun's shoulder for emotional support. yeonjun immediately groaned in annoyance, forcefully removing beomgyu's hand from his shoulder.
"she's so.. perfect.." beomgyu continued, letting out a dreamy sigh, cupping his face with his hand as he thought about you.
"all she did was literally the bare minimum as friends, she doesn't even bat an eye towards you. you're in too deep bro." taehyun sighed, rubbing his forehead. beomgyu tuned him out, not caring about what he said.
"you don't even act like this when we interact with you normally." hueningkai shook his head, disappointed with how much of a simp beomgyu is.
"shut up kai, you guys are a different story." beomgyu glared at huening, before going back to daydream about how he should spend his afterschool time with you.
"we've totally lost him." taehyun murmured, noticing how beomgyu zoned out, looking at the wall that was behind huening with heart eyes.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
for what seemed like forever, classes were finally over, beomgyu quickly packed his stuff and zoomed straight out of his classroom to go to yours. he noticed that your classroom was dim, he thought you'd already left without him, he sulked a little until he heard a familiar voice come from inside, he peaked inside and witnessed a horrid sight
"oh, thank you?" you thanked, smiling the guy that was standing infront of you. you held onto the bouquet of flowers and the box of ferrero rocher chocolates, the guy beamed in happiness when you accepted his gift. beomgyu grimaced at the boy, he disliked this feeling of jealousy. furthermore, why did you smile at him so brightly when you barely smile at beomgyu? beomgyu's mind was in chaos.
"uhm, i really appreciate it.. but i want to prioritise my studies first." you replied to the boy's confession, you could see his expression falter, but he still thanked you for your honest reply and left the classroom. you watched as he left, before placing the flowers and chocolates down on your table, opening your bag to pack them in. beomgyu pouted, he turned around and walked down the stairs, stridding towards the main gate.
"i know i've heard stuff about yn not wanting a relationship, but i never thought it'd be true.. fuckk, my chance with her is decreasing every minute." beomgyu mumbled to himself as he took small steps, people around him could sense his sad demeanor. beomgyu took out his phone and earphones, placing them in his ear as he played his playlist.
on the other hand, you felt like something was wrong, you thought that maybe it was the weather, and quickly left your classroom. while walking down the stairs, you checked the timing on when your bus would arrive. 2 minutes. your eyes widened, the next bus would take another 15 minutes to arrive, you immediately sprinted towards the bus stop.
beads of sweat trickled down your forehead, you cursed the hot weather, panting for oxygen. you looked up to see beomgyu sitting on the bench, listening to music on his earphones while looking into the scenary. now it hit you, beomgyu usually picked you up from class after school, but today he didn't. beomgyu had already noticed your presence however he decided to ignore it, he can't face you knowing that you wont reciprocate his feelings. he knew that he can't change your feelings, but he really wanted to finally be yours.
"beomgyu?" you called out, he turned his head to face you, you were about to say something to him but the bus had already arrived. beomgyu stood up and walked towards the entrance of the bus, pretending like he didn't notice you. this wasn't like him at all. you tapped your card, following behind beomgyu, you noticed that he took the outer seat, already dozing off in the comfort of the bus. hence, you assumed that he didn't want you to be seated next to him. you sat in the seat directly behind him, you pulled out your phone and bit your innercheek. why was he acting like that? he was usually clingy around you, did you do something wrong? you were sulking, that was unlike you, you didn't really care. you opened your messaging app, tapping on yunjin's contact.
yn ☆ : he's avoiding me.. but why do i feel uneasy
yunjin !! : oh my god, is this the time where i tell you this??
yn ☆ : tell me what?
yunjin !! : you like him.
yn ☆ : ?? no i dont??
you furrowed your eyebrows, no you didn't like him, you promised yourself to prioritise your studies first before a relationship.
yunjin !! : bro, you're in denial. you like him but you're avoiding the fact that you do indeed like him.
yn ☆ : what are you saying..
yunjin !! : look, you feel upset over the fact that he's avoiding you, you always wait for him in your classroom to find you during break. you even agreed to hang out with him despite you hating interactions with men after your ex did you dirty
yn ☆ : oh..
yn ☆ : well i don't even like him that much..
yunjin !! : mhm..?
you looked up from your phone and stared at the boy seated right infront of you. you recalled what yunjin messaged you, you felt your cheeks grow warm. maybe you did actually like him but you never realised it, you mentally slapped yourself, you've been so dry and cold to him, you just wanted to protect yourself from hurting again, but you fell for someone that might actually prove to you that it wouldn't hurt to love again.
yn ☆ : wait.. i do, fuck
yunjin !! : finally you came to your senses, oh my god, now go talk to him and sort things out. goodluck!
yn ☆ : im so nervous.. seen
your bus finally stopped at where you and beomgyu would usually stop at, you left the bus, following behind him. you noticed that he was about to walk in the opposite direction of you, you quickly chased him down and grabbed a hold of his arm. beomgyu's eyes widened as he saw you grabbing onto him, catching your breath while looking up to him with desperate eyes. he felt his heart racing at the interaction as he removed one side of his earbud.
"can we talk? please." you pleaded, pulling beomgyu towards a less crowded area. beomgyu had many thoughts racing through his mind, why do you want to suddenly talk to him? did you finally notice that he liked you and want to reject him?
"why are you avoiding me.." you asked, looking down to your feet, your hands clutching onto beomgyu's uniform shirt. nothing came out of beomgyu's mouth, he wasn't sure as well, his thoughts got to him.
"i.. i finally came to realise that i actually like you, more than i wanted to. i didn't realise at first until today, but now i think i've been giving quite a lot of hint's that i had feelings for you." you confessed, your cheeks growing warm. beomgyu couldn't believe his ears, what? what were you saying, didn't you want to prioritise your studies first?
"in what way did you.." beomgyu asked, he felt himself going haywire, the tip of his ears growing red
"remember you said you liked the jacket i always wore, i don't know if you noticed, but i subconsciously wore it more so that you'd like me." you said, your eyes darting away from his shocked gaze.
"i say that i prioritise my studies over relationship, cause i was scared of hurting again.. but i kind of realised that it's really nice to talk to you, and i'm comfortable around you. you kinda proved to me that there's hope in loving again? so, let's give this thing a try? " you stated, finally asking him whether you could try a relationship with him.
"i've been waiting for you yn." beomgyu smiled, pulling you into a tight hug. you shrieked in shock, but slowly wrapped your arms around his waist, you could feel his heartbeat racing.
"sorry for avoiding you.. my feelings got to me, but i'll prove to you that i won't hurt you, and i'd slowly make your heart whole again." beomgyu reassured you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, you beamed at him as he intertwined your hands with his, walking you to your home.
"also throw away those flowers, i don't want that boy's stuff hanging around in your house." beomgyu mumbled out loud, you chuckled at him.
"you're jealous aren't you." you teased him, nudging him slightly, beomgyu looked at you in shock,
"shut up, i wasn't."
you hummed in suspicion, teasing him more, he pouted as you joked around with him further. you reached your doorstep, as you bidded him goodbye, you gave him a quick peck on his cheek before heading into your cozy home. beomgyu held onto his cheek as his face turned into a bright hue of pink, he screamed internally, scurring off to his home nearby, opening the boys' groupchat, about to tell them the big news.
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masonmyluv · 8 months
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Part 1
A/N: I really hope you will all like this story. It’s my first pretty long story (it will have around 10 parts, so stay tuned ;) ) that I’m posting here. You can also find the story on my wattpad account (username: tmrxlover_writer).
Pictures are from Pinterest, the filter is Cinnamon on Polarr.
Warnings: none
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Another day at Uni after he just scored his first La Liga goal . He was buzzing, but had to be on time for classes. He was sure the whole university will congratulate him. Being famous was difficult when you just wanted to be a normal student.
"Our boy Fermin is back!"
You looked up from your notes to see Fermin being congratulated by the whole class. People hugging him, patting him on the back. "Thanks man" he kept saying, trying to make his way to his place. He just wanted the class to begin so everyone could leave him alone. "Hey" he said, sitting next to you. "Hi" you replied quietly. Being the shy nerdy girl was bad enough when you were sitting near the hot athletic guy. You asked yourself multiple times why did he choose to sit near you in the first year. There were a lot of empty places, but he chose the second row in the front, exactly near you. "Anything that I missed?" He asked, looking at your notes. He always admired your beautiful handwriting and how organised you were, so he knew where to choose to sit at your first class together. Surely not the guy with only a piece of paper and a pen, but rather the girl surrounded by books, coloured pencils and a cup of coffee. He didn't have the balls to ask you to get coffee in the morning, even though he wasn't drinking it, he would offer to come along with you.
"Erm...not really. We talked about more practical stuff. I made some notes if you want to take a picture or something" you offered shyly. You never ever gave your notes to anyone because they were just some lazy asses who didn't care about anything, but you were here to learn. You wanted to be a physiotherapist. They were here just to get a diploma. Not Fermin though. He was passionate about the subject, even though he missed a lot of classes because of his packed schedule. You were willing to help him because he showed interest. And appreciated your work too.
"Thanks. Actually I had an idea, I mean a proposal" he said. "I'm quite behind with everything, so I was wondering if you'd like to meet somewhere and help me catch up? It's okay if you don't want to" he said nervously. Why the heck was he nervous? He scored his first goal in freaking La Liga and was nervous talking to a girl he's seen almost every day in 3 years. You thought about his idea, you wanted to help him, but you weren't the person to meet up in random places to study. You liked the confined space of your room and desk, and maybe the library or the coffee shop, when you had to do computer work.
"I don't want to sound... uhh... like I'm inviting myself" he said blushing as if reading your mind. "But I can come to your place, if that's okay with you". "I... uhh" you rambled on, but the professor was already in class, ready to read one of his boring presentations for 2 hours. You barely paid attention to what he was saying, debating whether to accept Fermin's idea or not, while drawing random patterns on your copybook. Fermin noticed you zooming out so he scribbled something down on his own copybook. He nudged you so you could read what he wrote.
It's okay. It was just an idea :)
You shook your head, writing under his: we talk after the class.
For the rest of the class, you took notes, while Fermin tried paying attention, but his mind kept drifting off somewhere else. What if he overstepped with all this I-can-come-to-your-place-to-study thing and you would think he's weird? He face palmed himself for that, but you were his only hope to pass the exams this semester. The professor finally ended the class and you started packing your bag. Neither of you spoke until you were out of the class.
"Listen I—"
"It's okay if—"
You both stopped mid sentence and chuckled. "You first" he encouraged. "So, I think it's okay for you to come. I live alone anyway. Just tell me when it's okay with you". Fermin couldn't believe what he was hearing. You never ever invited someone over and he could respect that it was your safe place and he didn't want to intrude. "Are you sure it's okay?" He asked and you nodded. "Okay, let me see. Actually I'll text you the day before because I'll have some recovery trainings and I'll be free to come" he said. "I know it's difficult to put up with me" he chuckled nervously. "It's okay. It's not like I'm a party animal or anything" you said. "Okay... I'll let you know soon. Bye. And thank you" he said, climbing into his car. He thought of offering you a car ride, but maybe it was too much overstepping in one day, so he just waved at you and you waved back to him.
When you arrived home, you thought about this day. What the heck was today? Of course you gave him your notes pretty often, but him to come here to study? That was a whole new level.
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Hope you like it 🤍
Feedback is appreciated 😊
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