#// without having to worry about the carry over

[sweemmy]

⋆｡ﾟBeing an idol (by South Korean standards) comes with its perks and challenges, and these girls are fully aware of it. ﾟ｡⋆

— Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika, and Jinx.

VI.

Vi feels a deep sense of pride in everything you've accomplished, but also carries the fear that your relationship could be at risk if it were to be exposed. She works hard to keep everything a secret, even though it sometimes overwhelms and frustrates her. Despite all of this, she does it out of love for you, prioritizing your well-being over her own feelings.

She’s always alert when you go out in public together. Even on the quietest strolls, she picks less crowded routes to avoid paparazzi or fans. For her, protecting you isn’t just important—it’s her top priority.

Though she tries to act “cool,” she secretly keeps your merchandise like any devoted fan. In fact, you’ll probably have to beg her to stop playing your album on repeat when you’re around because she simply can’t resist.

After an exhausting day, Vi welcomes you with open arms and a homemade meal, even if it’s just a simple comfort food like instant noodles. She offers you her shoulder, the perfect place to unload everything on your mind, and with a look full of calm and reassurance, she promises that you’ll always find a safe place by her side.

If anything were ever leaked about you two, Vi would be the first to stand by you without hesitation, ready to face any hate that might come your way. For her, the only thing that matters is that you keep going, never giving up on your dreams.

CAITLYN.

Caitlyn recognized you with surprise, her eyes sparkling for a moment before she approached you with a shy smile. With a hint of nervousness, she asked, "Would it be too much to ask for an autograph?" She never imagined that such a simple question could lead to a conversation that would gradually become more meaningful and intimate.

From the very start, Caitlyn understood how vulnerable your position as an Idol was, and she made it her mission to protect you with complete dedication. She didn't hesitate to keep the relationship a secret if that was what it took to ensure your safety and well-being.

She is your invisible pillar behind the scenes. Not only does she follow you with devotion as your number one fan, but she also becomes your most trusted advisor, offering wise advice on how to navigate the whirlwind of fame. She supports you during speech rehearsals and interviews, always eager to fine-tune every detail. And when finances get tight, she doesn’t hesitate to dip into her wallet to help make your dream music video a reality.

She always finds subtle and sweet ways to show her love for you, without seeking any recognition: from little secret notes she leaves in your bag to mysterious flowers she sends you just before a big event, always thinking of you.

Although she trusts you completely, Caitlyn can’t help but feel uneasy about the possibility of someone discovering what you share. Her mind spins over all the potential consequences, and while she tries to stay calm, she is always prepared to face any unexpected challenges that may arise.

SEVIKA.

Sevika is fully aware of the risks that come with your relationship. Although she dislikes hiding her feelings, she understands that it's best for you to keep a low profile. She accepts the rules without complaining too much.

Though she doesn't speak much, her love is shown in the simplest gestures, yet ones full of meaning. She surprises you with homemade dinners when you have a break or greets you with your favorite drink, easing the exhaustion of a long day.

While she has full trust in your discretion, the fear of a leak never leaves her mind. Her biggest worry is that someone might hurt you emotionally because of the relationship you share.

If at any point you feel overwhelmed by the pressure, Sevika won't hesitate to pull you out of that toxic environment, even if it means organizing an impromptu escape to help you regain your peace.

With Sevika, you don't have to hide who you are. She gives you the space to be yourself, something that is increasingly rare in a world that constantly pressures you to be perfect.

JINX.

Jinx refuses to be bound by rules or societal norms, preferring to live life on her own terms. Still, she knows that your future might hinge on what happens next. Although her carefree attitude hides it, she genuinely makes an effort to protect your privacy.

When you're with her, she pulls you into her world, overflowing with chaos and madness. If stress is weighing you down, she becomes an escape: drawing graffiti that captures the essence of your songs, painting your face in vibrant colors, or taking you to hidden corners where the world seems to vanish, leaving only space for her secret haven.

She’s not shy about mocking the artists you work with, tossing out outrageous remarks like, "Who does that guy think he is? I could sing better than him, just watch me!" All just to make you laugh.

Her way of cheering you up might be a bit unusual — like filling your dressing room with bright neon lights — but she always manages to make you feel special and deeply appreciated.

Though she doesn't say it in words, she's afraid that this relationship might impact your career. If it were ever exposed, she would take full responsibility, even if it meant losing you. As much as it would break her heart, deep down, what she wants most is to see you chase your dreams, even if that means doing it without her by your side.

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 21. Show Me

Summary: After rushing from the training hall, Dahlia is left alone to her thoughts. Or so she thinks.

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Support Me

I had no idea how I ended up here. Just letting my feet carry me to wherever they lead me. Which apparently was the top of one of the towers of the Quadrant. It clearly wasn’t used much, but it must have been a place someone came to as there were some footsteps in the dust in the stairwell.

I’m sure the view was beautiful, but all I could do was stare down at my hands, the memory replaying in my head over and over again. The scream echoing loudly in my head over, and over again. I’d barely had my signet a day and it was already a shit show just like the rest of my life. Just when life was starting to be good for once. I was making friends, didn’t have to deal with the constant disappointed looks of my father and brother. I was actually living my life. Now I doubted anyone would want anything to do with me after that.

They must have developed a signet like I had recently. Emetterio knew of my signet after last night, knew it wasn’t entirely safe for me to touch anyone except Bodhi really. His signet was the only one I could trust in my hands. But clearly the other cadet had manifested one without realising. And I’d thrown it back at them without even realising and caused everyone in the Quadrant to look on in horror as they screamed and screamed. I squeeze my eyes shut in an effort to block the memory from my mind, but it does nothing. The scream still echoing loudly in my ears.

I startle as the door next to me opens. I half expect to see Xaden who I knew had tried to follow me out. And at first I think it is him with how tall the person is, but as they fully step through the door, it’s the last person I expect to see. They shut the door behind them before walking over and lowering themselves to the ground as they lean up against the ledge with me, legs sprawled out in front of them. I look up at them to see them staring down at my hands. I’d only ever seen him glare or tease me, so the worried way he looks at my hands is new to me. A softer look to their features I’ve not seen before, as if they were relaxed despite the worry. And I hated to say how much I liked it.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, an almost pained tone to their voice.

I look at him confused, unsure why he’s apologising to me. “Sorry? Why are you sorry Garrick?”

His shifts his gaze to look at me, and I can see the pain in his hazel eyes. I can see how sorry he is, as if he feels like this is his fault. But there’s something more there. I know the look in his eyes isn’t just to do with what happened to me.

“I’m sorry, because the signet you replicated was mine.” He confesses, averting his gaze as he leans his head back against the stone ledge, looking up at the roof.

I stare at him in disbelief. One because I’d been so adamant I’d replicated the cadet I’d been up against. And two…. Because this was a side of him I had never seen. Not once in my months here had I seen him be anything but the arrogant lumbering oaf I’d assumed him to be. Didn’t think he cared about anyone but himself and the few he kept close. But I can see how worried he is. How bad he feels. There’s no way this is an act. Especially when I lower my gaze and note a slight shake to his hands. I almost want to reach out and grasp them in mine, but after what’s happened I doubt he’d let me. And I internally kick myself for wanting to do so. Just because he feels sorry for me and what’s happened, doesn’t mean he won’t go back to treating me any different once tomorrow comes. Just like my brother and father.

“The same thing happened to me.” He starts, his gaze still set on the roof. “We were doing training while challenges were on hold. Only a few squads were with us. And I had no idea my signet had manifested.” He pauses, taking a deep breath before looking down at his own hands. “We were doing hand to hand combat and at first it was fine. Both of us landing hits on each other without any issue. But as it went on and got more and more intense, I felt something shift in me. Something had changed. And as I pinned them beneath me, their screams echoed around the room as they writhed in pain beneath me.”

Garrick squeezes his fists shut, the tremble now more emphasised due to it. As I look at him I realise what had happened today was almost a copy and paste of what had happened to him last year. No doubt reliving the memory as the screams had echoed around the training room, watching as I pinned them to the ground in a similar manner. Not only was I shaken, but Garrick was to.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper.

He turns his head and lightly laughs. “The last thing you need to be is sorry. You did nothing wrong.”

I shake my head. “But I did. I didn’t think. I should have thought about what could happen when I touched your arm. But I didn’t. I didn’t think and now I’ve probably traumatised some poor cadet, and you.” I ramble, finally breaking free of the slump I was in. “Everyone probably thinks I’m a freak.”

He chuckles lightly, my eyes narrowing at him as I glare at him slightly. “Aww you care about me. How sweet.”

I huff and push off the ground, “And there it is. Sorry for trying to be nice.” I snap as I go to storm off.

I barely take a step before his hand grasps my arm halting me in my tracks. I try to pull my arm free, not wanting to accidentally hurt him but he just grips my arm tighter.

“I’m not trying to be an ass. Just thought a joke might make you feel better.” He states bluntly as he stares down at me.

The last time I’d been this close was in the hallway the day after threshing, and I’d forgotten just how tall Garrick truly was as I crane my neck to look up at him. And just like last time, being this close to him affects me more than it should.

“It doesn’t matter, as soon as we walk out of here you’ll go back to hating me and treating me like you normally do.” I say as I try to loosen my arm from his grip.

He sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t hate you Dahlia.”

I freeze at his words. In all the months I’d been here, not once had he used my name. Always calling me little Aetos, or some other colourful word. Never by my actual name. And I hated how it caught me off guard. Hated how much I liked it coming from him.

He releases my arm, clearly satisfied I won’t storm off anymore. “At the start, yeah I did. But I’ve realised I never hated you. I hated your name. Your last name. Who I thought you were. Who your father is. And dare I say, I was wrong about you.”

“Is this you trying to apologise?” I ask, staring at him like he’s gone crazy.

Cause clearly he had. Or maybe I had. Maybe I’d been knocked out on that mat and this was just a dream. There was no way these words were coming from Garrick. Garrick who despised me from the moment I stepped off the parapet and he knew my…. My name. I’d barely looked at him but there was no hate in his eyes the first time I’d looked at him. He looked curious and amused as I’d tried to avoid giving my name to him and Xaden. But the moment Dain had uttered my last name, it had changed. Every time he’d looked at me since then there had been hate in his eyes. Until now. And I hated to admit that now as I looked up at him, there was none of that there. For once Garrick Tavis was looking at me like he didn’t hate me.

“I can retract it if you want? But yes, this is me saying that maybe I was wrong about jumping to conclusions about you based off a name.” He admits with a shrug, clearly trying to play it casual.

“You aren’t doing this because you feel bad about the whole signet thing?” I ask, still not sure what he’s saying is true.

“I won’t deny I feel extremely bad about what happened. But it’s not why I’m doing this. And I get if you don’t believe a single word I’m saying to you right now. Just felt like right now was the only time you would listen to me.”

He wasn’t wrong though. As he’d joined me up here I’d let him. I hadn’t scoffed and moved on time I usually would, hadn’t made a smart ass comment to him. I’d watched and let him sit next to me and talk to me properly. Too caught up in what had happened to care. And honestly, I’d wanted to company despite running off.

I walk over to the ledge, looking out over the Quadrant as I think over his words. Despite everything something deep down told me to accept his apology and put all this behind us. What the hell was wrong with me? Why did I want to suddenly forgive him and move on? Maybe Bodhi’s insistence I give him a chance had finally worn me down.

“Ok. “ I utter, turning to look at him. “I’m not fully forgiving you. But I’m giving you a chance Tavis. As they say, actions speak louder than words.”

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd @heeseungthel0ml @acourtofsmutandstarlight @fairchild06 @freyagallileaevans @pit-and-the-pen @hannraumari @elliot-rain @thestarseternaal

[salty-autistic-writer]

Sunshine at noon wakes him up. Tommy furrows his brows in annoyance and blinks at the too-bright snippet of the outside world he can glimpse from where he’s curled up on his couch. Clear sky. It would be such a nice day for flying. Just like yesterday.

But instead of flying, Tommy has been parked on the same spot on his couch for a few days now, wrapped in a blanket like a sad burrito that someone left at the side of the road. He can imagine just fine how the rest of him looks. Unwashed, uncombed, unshaved. It’s a good thing no one will ever see him like this. He’s invisible. Hidden from the world.

Tommy took a personal leave. No one at work batted an eye. No one complained. It never happened before and after transferring from the 118 to the 217, Tommy made sure he had a certain reputation. He’s reliable. On time. Capable. Unproblematic. Friendly enough that people talk to him and want to go drink a beer with him once in a while. And he sold his role well enough, obviously. No one is worrying too much about him. They think he’s just … sick. Down with a cold or something.

They don’t know the brutal truth: Tommy is a complete mess. And he can’t find the energy to change anything about it.

All he does these days is sleep, stare at the TV without following what’s happening, drag himself up to go to the bathroom once in a while and get himself something to drink or eat - only the barest necessities, go back to slump on the couch again, and eat lots of ice cream. A ton of ice cream, actually. Empty containers surround him.

He’s pathetic. And an idiot. An idiot who manages to destroy everything good in his life and in the lives of the people he gets too close to. He messed things up before. But this is different. Because this time, he was almost about to be happy. And he had to throw that away too.

It’s better this way , Tommy tries to convince himself once again. I can’t be selfish. Evan deserves better. He may be hurt, sad and angry for the moment, but he will get over it. He is amazing and will find an amazing person. Someone who doesn’t carry around suitcases filled with past baggage. Someone who isn’t damaged. Someone who doesn’t stand on a wobbly heap of insecurities, ready to fall down the rabbit hole of panic and overthinking any moment. He will find an amazing person and he will be happy. Yes. He will be happy. 

No. Tommy can’t be selfish. But that’s it. He already was, right? He indulged himself. He allowed himself to enjoy what he had with Evan. Enjoyed it too much. Because it felt so good. It felt so right. Evan was always sunshine and nice things, hope and gentleness, honesty and acceptance, wrapped into touches that burned without being painful. 

Tommy took all that and then forgot that it couldn’t last forever. Because good things always come to an end. And the moment Evan spoke about moving in. About futures. It hit him. Evan doesn’t know enough. And Tommy loves Evan too much to let him walk into something he is going to regret. He learned enough lessons to know how this one would end. So he ran.

He ran once again. And now Tommy doesn’t know where to go.

God. He can’t even stay in Los Angeles, right? Something tugs painfully at Tommy’s heart when he realises that. He built a life here in LA. A relatively stable one compared to whatever he had before that. He liked to think it was a good life. With a stable job. With colleagues who like him enough to talk to him after work. With a house and a garage and hobbies. With neighbours who smile at him. A quiet life. A normal life.

A lonely life. 

Loneliness protects me, Tommy thinks grimly. He should leave. It would be better for everyone.

It was nice to reconnect with Hen and Howie. It was nice to meet Eddie. They have a lot in common. It’s been a while since he could talk about his time in the military with someone who knew exactly what he was feeling. It’s been nice to see Bobby and eat his lasagna again. But in the end, all of them are Evan’s family. So it’s only reasonable that they won’t want to spend time with Tommy anymore. He lost them with Evan.

So what is holding him here?

So you really want to run again? That doubtful little voice nagging his mind wonders.

I need to. It’s better this way. For everyone including myself. 

Is it? Or is this just you following a pattern because you’re too scared to wait and see if things might turn out differently this time? Because they could right? You can’t see the future. 

And the next thought going through his mind might be the sharpest. It cuts into his heart and leaves it bleeding. It hurts. But it’s so clear and real.

What do you have to lose anyway? 

Tommy sits up and buries his face in his hands. Yes. What does he have to lose, now that he destroyed everything? He has nothing and no one. Because he’s a coward. Always has been. Always will be …

The doorbell rings. Tommy flinches violently and stares towards the door, wide-eyed, his heart pounding.

Immediately, Tommy is flooded by anxiety. He’s not expecting anyone. Oh God. He really hopes it’s not Evan. He’s not ready for that talk. Or maybe it’s just someone from the 118 who decided to tell him in person what an asshole and coward he is. Well. I deserve that, Tommy guesses tiredly.

The doorbell rings again.

Tommy sighs. He drags his body up, letting the blanket slide on the couch and shuffles to the door, preparing himself for being yelled at. Or for being punched immediately. When he opens, however, he’s in for a different surprise.

“Lucy?!”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t check on you?” Lucy asks, raising a brow. She eyes him up and down, crossing her arms. “You look horrible.”

“I know,” Tommy mutters, scratching at the back of his head, feeling how greasy his growing hair is.

Lucy doesn’t wait for an invitation. She pushes past him, walks right into the living room, puts her hands on her hips, while she takes a look around and shakes her head. She reaches out to pick up one of the emptied ice cream containers that are littering the couch, the table, the floor. She turns to look at him, raising the container and a brow. “Jesus, Tommy.”

“I know,” Tommy sighs again, fidgeting with the hem of the old hoodie he’s wearing. He can't look her in the eye. Can't even ask her why she's here. He didn't think anyone would actually make the effort to drive by his house and ring the doorbell. And now he doesn't know how to deal with it.

“Have you eaten? I mean, anything else than ice cream? Come on. Let’s order Chinese,” Lucy says, already pulling out her phone.

A ghost of an almost smile appears on Tommy’s face. That’s why he likes Lucy. She’s direct and stern and somehow exactly what he needs right now. He doesn’t know how he deserves her being here, but it helps. It really does.

Their food arrives a little while later and they sit on the couch to eat. Tommy’s stomach growls when he smells the food and he feels a little dizzy. Wow. He didn’t even notice he was hungry before Lucy decided to pay him a visit.

“You broke up with Buck,” Lucy says, digging into her noodles. It’s not a question. It’s a statement. Tommy wonders if it's that obvious or if someone told her. And if so, who? “And now you are going to tell me why.”

Tommy sighs. “I thought it’s the right thing to do,” he says, after he chewed and swallowed his chicken. “The best thing for … for him.”

“So you freaked out,” Lucy says dryly. “It was a flight response. What did he do? Oh God,” she looks up from her food, wide-eyed. “Did the idiot propose already?!”

Tommy blinks. “Uh. No. He … He said he wants me to move in with him.”

Lucy deflates. She shakes her head. “Wow. Okay. Wait. Why would you move in with him? He has a loft. You have a house.” She gestures around, raising a brow. “I mean. If anything, he should be moving in with you. Is his bed even big enough for the two of you?”

“Not really,” Tommy mutters. Not if they wanted to use it for specific things. “But it doesn’t matter, Lucy. I broke up with him. Because he deserves better. He thinks he’s in love now. He thinks he wants a future with me now. But … There are things he doesn’t know about me. And I don’t want him to regret it. I don’t want to wake up in a few weeks, after living the dream, only to realise it’s going to turn into a nightmare where we both pretend that everything is alright but it isn’t …”

“Self-fulfilling-prophecy,” Lucy says, staring at him incredulously. “That’s what you’re doing right now, Tommy. You act like you know the future. Like you know how things are going to turn out. But you don’t! There are things he doesn’t know about you? So what? Tell him!”

“It’s not that easy,” Tommy mutters, his heart growing heavy. “I don’t want him to look at me differently. I love him too much for that.”

“You love him,” Lucy says, matter of factly, her brows wandering up.

Tommy swallows. He just said that, right? “I guess."

“So,” Lucy raises a finger. “Let me see if I got that right. You broke up with Buck because … you love him too much?”

Tommy doesn’t know if he’s supposed to cry or laugh. He shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, Lucy. I just … I got scared. This whole thing was too good to be true in the first place. And now he acts like he wants a future with me but how can he know that? How can I know it? Also … I don’t want him to miss out on anything. He just discovered he’s bisexual. And I was his first relationship with a guy.” Lucy scoffs. “Oh, come on, Tommy. Buck is an adult. He can make his own choices. And from what you are telling me, he already did. No. This is about you , freaking out because you are scared this will end badly.”

“Well, it’s not like things worked out in the past,” Tommy says bitterly. “Even if I was trying.”

Lucy makes a sympathetic noise. She reaches out, her hand resting on Tommy’s shoulder. A comforting presence. “Okay, but look at yourself now. You’re the definition of miserable. Those last few months? You’ve been glowing. Always smiling and giggling like a teenager in love with your phone in your hand. It was quite disgusting, to be honest. But I loved it for you. Loved it for Buckley, too, a little. You’re sabotaging your own happiness because your trauma tries to tell you that whatever happened in the past will happen again. But that’s the thing. You don’t know that. If you run, you take away your chance to find out things are going to be okay. He makes you happy, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Tommy says hoarsely, feeling his throat tightening and tears gathering in his eyes. So happy.

“Then stop eating ice cream and start talking,” Lucy tells him.

Tommy swallows. She makes it sound so easy. But … “He won’t want me back now. Maybe he won’t even want to talk to me. I hurt him.”

“Just tell him the truth. Tell him what you told me. And then tell him the rest. If you don’t try, you will never know and I’m quite sure not knowing will hurt even more. Who knows. Maybe he’s already waiting. Or thinking about texting you.”

“Do you really think that's possible?” Tommy asks, surprised. He imagined a lot of scenarios. Most of them involve Evan cursing Tommy's name.

Lucy smiles at him. “I can imagine it. Come on, Tommy. I can see it in your sad wet eyes. You really do love this idiot. Don’t throw this away just like that. Don’t run away. At least try to fight for it. Because if he feels the same, he’s going to do that too.”

“I’m scared,” Tommy admits, glancing at his phone. Scared of the reaction hurting even more than this does.

Lucy rubs his back. “I know. But you can’t let fear control your life. Fear is a liar. And if you listen to it, it’s always going to take you back to the past.”

She gets up, collecting the empty boxes and putting them into a plastic bag. “Text him. Or call him. Don’t wait too long.” She wrinkles her nose. “And please stop playing hibernating hedgehog soon. I need you back in the cockpit.”

Tommy manages a smile. “I will try. Thank you, Lucy.”

“Of course,” she tells him, her eyes softening.

After Lucy leaves, Tommy stares at this phone. He stares at it for a long time. Then, he takes it in his hand and opens his chat with Evan. His heart clenches when he reads their last conversation. Feels like that happened an eternity ago. Before any of them even thought about a breakup. Because … they really were happy, right?

Tommy stares at the screen and he starts to think this is the scariest thing he’s ever been thinking about doing. Because what if Evan simply ignores or blocks him? Or … what if Evan just tells him to go to hell? Fear comes in waves, dark and cold. But then Tommy remembers that he really does not have much to lose. And he has at least one friend who will be there to collect the pieces when he breaks apart completely. He should get a grip and take a leap of faith. He messed this up. Maybe he can fix it. Maybe.

Tommy takes a deep breath and starts to type.

(AO3 link)

[furioushoneymaple]

"Small" Sonic Headcannons Part 2?(More Sonadow and what, Knuxouge too?)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Shadow: (talking/ranting with Sonic) "Well, with how long I was on the ARK and capsulated away for 50-some years, it feels like my body is still... adjusting."

Sonic: "Heheh, "adjusting" huh?"

Shadow has bad allergies, not often. But every once in a while he'll have a sneezing fit for a minute or two. And without fail, the start of the sneezing fit spooks Sonic/like a cat, he flinches at the first sound every time, without fail.

His allergies are bad during Autumn, not really during Spring or Summer. This is because on the ARK there was a small plant room/used for fresh air/gardening fresh plants and produce/this garden is his stash of coffee beans and his appreciation of lavender/but it was importantly for Maria and the rest of the people on the ARK who missed Earth. That plant room is either over-grown/full of coffee bean plants or lavender variants or it broke a part from the ARK and has been decaying/frozen in space/maybe separated as closed off from what's left habitable in the space station.

(I like to think that the plant room was forgotten about, only to be rediscovered as an over-grown plant room taking up a majority of sections, later found by Shadow and Sonic on their mission together, symbolizing Shadow's growth as a character, with the garden reflecting his life development)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Eh, anyways. Knuckles is very aware of his knuckles, other times, he is not. But during times of protecting or taking care of others, that's where he's very cautious. Mainly he's more gentle when he's taking care of someone/either picking someone up/cleaning the wounds off/bandaging up someone's injury/he's as soft and careful as he can be. He learned this from his family. He holds a bunch of medical knowledge and recently, he also learned more skills and tricks on how to take care of someone through Amy and Tails.

Amy always finds new ways to help, so she does her best to make sure her friends (and herself) are able to keep fighting, while also healing properly. She does this out of the kindness of her own heart, but she also deals with feeling like she needs to be her best/useful/tough 24/7. This really burns her out, and she may keep her pain a secret from time to time, but Amy always strives to give love and kindness through her actions, talents and words.

For Tails, he's the one who was stuck helping Sonic with his injuries. So, he knows a few DIY procedures, probably too many DIY emergency, it's concerning really. Tails unfortunately has seen too many injuries, so he's sort of "used to it"/no, numb to it. So he also carries big baggage here and there. But he copes through jokes/humor/maybe dark humor, I mean, Sonic is a part of that influence whether subconsciously or not. And Tails is not soulless, he cares massively about his found family, and can be a worry-bird, and that worry is fuel for his tinkering and creations.

Overall, Knuckles, Amy, and Tails share skills and tricks between each other, and it all helps them grow, learn, and it also helps them heal/heal the baggage and internal self standards/trauma left inside that they have yet to discover for themselves.

*COUGH* back to Knuckles, and to summarize what I'm trying to say, is that Knuckles will be gentle handling others with care. So, with Rouge/if not them bantering over the Master Emerald, he still handles her with great care, he's very tender and soft when it comes to hanging out with Rouge or his friends. Maybe a knucklehead, but a knucklehead with a big heart.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Knuckles likes to be the small spoon while cuddling, he's not really a spoon, he just likes the comfort of being protected. Don't chu ever think after being a protector, that all he wants is to feel protected himself? And Rouge is the one that likes to hold him close/her wings are comforting, hugging, and snug. And as they share moments together, as time flies, as memories are made, so are lessons, so for Knuckles, he learns how to be more "greedy".

Rouge: "It’s called self-care hon, and making sure he's able to treat himself to something nice. He still cares about his responsibilities. But he learns to relax a little..."

While Rouge learns to let go.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rouge has a soft spot, but she keeps that somewhat hidden. She usually has her guard up (hence why she's the big spoon btw) as she always feels on edge or too stressed. She holds a lot of responsibility of her own, to her own. The stress of secret information, keeping secrets, going on top secret missions, and discovering grueling/fearful/challenging information all has its toll on her. Even if she just brushes it off, seen as calm, collected, and as a badass — still, Rouge has her hollow-hearted nights, her breakdowns, and her nightmares. It's rare but it's not like it doesn’t happen. But with the job, she keeps that minimal, the whole spiel about being able to separate her personal life with her job, she aces that, she tries for it to not get to her, and she does a thorough job for the work she does.

Rouge loves having her face held by Knuckles hands.

And Rouge very much cherishes her friends gifts, any gift really. She couldn't bare it if her gift ever got destroyed, but no one should ever hurt the gifts she cares about the most and that's people in her life.

Also Rouge has a vast spread of knowledge, especially when it comes to her treasures, to the history, the make, the material, it's use, its value, she knows basically everything if you ask her. Her knowledge also branches off into geology too, as she's used to sky, land, underground, and water missions. Maybe she does too much, who knows.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

(Ahh that's the end of this tangent so far and there's probably more headcannons eventually, but Thank Youuuuuu, peaceeeeeee)

[inubaki]

Touched by an Angel

Part 2

From that day onward, Adam became acutely aware of Samuel whispering profound insights and esoteric knowledge directly into his mind. The voice, soothing yet commanding, urged Adam to share what he learned with the world, encouraging him to be a witness to its wisdom. However, this newfound understanding did not come without a cost. The angel made it clear that nothing in life was free, and in exchange for the guidance it offered, Adam had to make concessions of his own. 

In the early years of their peculiar relationship, the demands were relatively modest. Samuel was insatiably curious. He wanted to know everything about Adam—the minutiae of his life, his hopes, and his fears. Adam reasoned that the angel should already possess this knowledge, but to avoid any potential offense to his ethereal provider, he poured his heart out, answering every question with honesty and a surprising sense of vulnerability. However, when Adam turned twenty, a turning point came; the price for Samuel’s wisdom escalated significantly. 

"You want me to...to what?" Adam asks hesitantly. If Adam could see Samuel, he would definitely have his tilted and a smirk on his lips. "I want you to prove your faith to me. I want you to touch yourself, Adam. I need to know what kind of sin you have. The first one we will test will be Lust. If you pass, we'll go to the next one. If you don't, we'll work on it until you are free from it." That...seemed reasonable. Samuel had never led him astray before. So, with newfound confidence, Adam touched himself to his angel's voice.

As Adam finished his task, he paused to examine his soiled hand, curiosity bubbling within him. The sensation was unfamiliar; he had never taken such an active role before—never truly engaged in the carnal pleasure of touching himself in this way. But there was little time for introspection, as Samuel's voice echoed in his mind, heavy and laden with concern. "Oh, it's worse than I thought," Samuel remarked, his tone carrying an unmistakable weight of disappointment.

Adam's heart raced at the implication. Had he somehow veered off course? Had he made a mistake? The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Samuel let out a long, resigned sigh, a sound that seemed to resonate with the gravity of the situation. Adam couldn't suppress a soft whimper, the fear of disappointing his mentor settling heavily in his chest.

"It appears we have a lot to go over," Samuel continued, his voice steadying. "But don’t worry, Adam. I will be with you every step of the way." The reassurance felt like a lifeline, yet it came with the solemn promise of guidance. “I’ll still impart my wisdom, of course. And in exchange, I’ll help you confront and navigate your sin.”

From there, everything shifted. Every time Adam asked for guidance when he was studying or helping a fellow churchgoer, he was asked to do something to atone for his lustful thoughts. Adam didn't even know he had these kinds of thoughts, or the ones Samuel presented to him at least, but his angel would never lie so he performed them for his angel to be forgiven.

Each time he did this, Adam couldn't help but blush and moan his angel's name. Sometimes, the angel needed a more hands-on approach and they would do things in his dreams. Samuel led the way, forging a path through his desire and helping fix it. Right now, he had a corn cob in his ass, moaning softly as he pushed it farther in. Samuel watched him closely, a smile on his face that turned into a smirk when he wasn't looking.

"Oh, Adam. So full of sin. You are so lucky that I'm here for you. To help you. To guide you on to the right path!" Samuel said as Adam groaned in pleasure. He moaned harder when a hand shoved the corn deeper. Adam allowed his angel to fuck him with the corn until he came. When Adam woke up, his pants were soiled and Adam blushed as he heard Samuel laugh.

The day Adam became the Head Priest was a cause for celebration. A feast was made in his honor and they sang hymns and ate good food. Adam bit his lip as he felt phantom-like hands run across under his robe and he stifled moans to keep himself from sinning.

Adam couldn't pinpoint exactly when it happened, but he was astonished to see how deeply everyone had embraced his teachings from the very first day he began. His words seemed to pour out effortlessly, each sentence crafted with an intensity and clarity that captivated his listeners. No matter the challenge presented to him or the issues that arose within the group, solutions emerged almost as if by magic, swiftly dispelling any concerns.

Yet, Adam was no naive dreamer; he understood the underlying truth of his remarkable success. It was Samuel—his mentor and guiding force—who had woven the fabric of his abilities and wisdom. Samuel's influence was omnipresent, fueling Adam's confidence and instilling in him the knowledge that every breakthrough was a testament to his mentor’s guidance. This realization grounded Adam, reminding him that his achievements were not solely his own but rather a collaborative triumph forged through Samuel's unwavering support. He thanked him by letting Samuel touch him during the service. Adam didn't know how he could feel the angel now when he had never been able to and the angel simply replied that his faith had grown stronger.

As Adam taught in the dimly lit church, he couldn't help but observe the families gathered around him. He watched as young children giggled in their parents' arms, while the warmth of shared smiles and whispered conversations filled the air. It struck Adam that he was surrounded by couples, partners united in faith and purpose, and that contrast only intensified his sense of isolation. With a pang of longing, he realized that having a faithful wife by his side could enhance his strength and leadership within the church community. 

Later that night, Adam knelt in earnest prayer, seeking guidance from Samuel, his celestial advisor. "Should I take a wife?" He implored, the words heavy with hope and uncertainty. "I believe it would be beneficial for me, and for the church, to start a family and plant deep roots here." 

But to Adam's dismay, the familiar voice of Samuel remained silent. Typically, the angel’s whispers would fill his mind with clarity and reassurance, but this time, the absence of a response sent chills down his spine. Was his angel upset with him for even contemplating such a decision? Adam ruminated on past experiences, recognizing that even when Samuel was displeased, he had always communicated with him. A gnawing sense of foreboding gripped Adam; something felt fundamentally off. He couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to take a troubling turn, and it left him with an unsettling mix of anxiety.

——

pervs: part 1

Idea and art by me. Story By @libby-for-life!!

Because life is hard and this helps me cope.

[speed-world]

I think a pretty cute request would be one between Pattaya dragon and the reader.

In this case, they're taking care of Snapdragon cookie. Pattaya dragon cookie seems to have no parental skills, But it turns out his skills are more than adequate for a dragon baby. Y/N is constantly scared/worried pattaya is accidentally going to hurt Snapdragon, But they are consistently proven wrong and apologize near the end for not believing in Pattaya dragon.

Dragon Parenting!!

You had quite the busy day ahead of you, which proved to be an issue as you thought about watching over Snapdragon Cookie. You’d be too busy today to care for them properly, so you looked into getting them a sitter…until your red dragon mate came along-

“Hrrrr, hey, what are you up to?”

“I’m trying to find a babysitter to watch over Snapdragon today, ya nosy. I’ll be way too busy to look after them.”

“…..Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why?’ I want Snapdragon to be fine while I’m gone, plus I know a few cookies that are good with-“

“Ssssweetheart, I’m right here! Hello? I can easssily look after Snapdragon for however long you’re gone! I’m sssurpised you didn’t think about me first!”

“Umm…you see ah-how do I explain this. I’m not sure if it’s wise for you and Snapy to be alone. Together. With no other cookie to keep an eye on either of you.”

“Ah-What?! Are you sssaying that I’m too recklesssss as a parent?”

You clasped your hands together and took a deep breath

“I-well, yes, sorta. I’m sorry ‘Taya it’s just-I’m worried that maybe you and Snapdragon alone together might break something or worse…”

Pitaya Dragon crossed their arms and huffed steam, visibly offended and upset.

“Krrrrr, I’ll prove you wrong! A dragon watching over another dragon is perfect! I can ssssatisfy any of Snapdragon Cookie’s needsss without issssue!! Go on and complete your errandsss, and you’ll come back to a well-kept home as alwayssss!”

You hesitated for a moment to think: two dragons left to themselves sounds nightmarish, especially if you ask Tarte Tatin Cookie, but this is your spouse and child. And Pitaya is right: as a dragon, they are more suited to tend to another dragon than you, even with your best efforts respectfully. You should be fully able to trust them together, right?

“Alright Taya, I’m sorry. I completely and wholly trust you. I’ll see you later today, alright? Be good now, Snapdragon!”

Pitaya smiled as you both shared a quick kiss. Snapdragon Cookie flew up to give you a hug goodbye before you went out the door. Now everything will be fine, it will all be fine…

….

The day had gone by pretty well!! Completing your tasks one by one continually motivated you throughout your time. But maybe there was something else motivating you….

Yeah, there was. It was the thought of Pitaya and or Snapdragon breaking something or getting hurt.

The thoughts would just eat away at the back of your mind, never seeming to leave despite your best efforts to wash them away. You kept reminding yourself to trust Pitaya, yet the images of returning home to ruined furniture and scratched walls were getting more frequent and more graphic…

As you were finishing up your last errand, you took a moment to breathe and remain stationary; attempting to calm your mind. …..it didn’t really work, and you began to take the shortest route back home.

Once you arrived, you made a mad dash to the front door and frantically tried to unlock it. After finally opening the door, your eyes widened…and then softened as you saw a sleepy Snapdragon being put to bed by Pitaya. The red dragon turned and noticed you, and they walked to you after laying down Snapdragon.

“Ssssoo, how was your day~?”

“G-good, actually. I’m really sorry for doubting you Pitaya, it looks like you got everything under control.”

“Kehehehe, told you!!”

“Hey now not so loud, you just put Snapdragon to bed.”

“Ah-r-right. *ahem* Told you~~!”

“Heh, yeah yeah, I’m glad you proved me wrong my love.”

Pitaya lifted you into a bridal-like carry and nuzzled your cheek, sitting down on the couch with you on their lap.

“I love you, sssweetheart~.”

“I love you too, ‘Taya~.”

[ilysungho]

hiya!!! i’d love if you were to write 10 & 11 for myungjae?💓💓🥺

a/n: i think i got carried away… enjoy~ here is the full list to request your own prompt x member!wc: 0.78k contains: dom!myungjae x sub!reader, myungjae established as an idol, established relationship (bf/gf), couple don’t live together, use of nicknames (baby), just very soft and intimate, penetrative sex (p in v), lower case intended, prompts italicized

with award season coming up, your boyfriend jaehyun had been more than stressed every day. most days he wouldn’t even come back home until 2am, having to immediately leave for work again by 5am.

you usually don’t stay up too late, being in bed by around 11am at night (although you stay up if jaehyun says he’s coming after practice!). but even if you go to sleep, you had given him an extra key to your place in case he needed a getaway from his dorm or work.

today had been a particularly stressful day of practice. he got off of work at 1am and left for your place without saying a word to anyone, but his members knew, and frankly begged for that to happen since they knew only you could get him out of the anger and stress he’s been feeling this whole day.

jaehyun: hi baby. i’m on my way 1:07am

he knew you wouldn’t read or text back so he was thankful he had the key to your place.

reaching soon after, he entered and removed his shoes, already feeling relaxed through the scent of you that lingered in the air. walking over to your room, he admired your sleeping beauty before getting into bed and facing you.

“baby, i’m here” he whispered, giving a soft kiss to your lips, earning a soft “mm” in return. wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer, murmuring a soft i miss you against his lips and getting a kiss in return.

your lips stayed locked together, with jaehyun growing feverish against you. he missed your touch and has wanted nothing more than you to be by his side since the start of rehearsals for the end of year stages. sharing soft kisses in the dead of the night made him think about you and how you could get rid of every worry on his mind. his hold onto you got stronger as he pulled you closer to him and continuously gave you kisses, each one lasting longer than the previous.

pulling you by your waist and slowly getting on top of you, the air between the two of you started to get intense. every kiss got met with a moan. every moan got met with a groan. hips started grinding between the two of you while you tugged at his shirt.

“do you want to go further y/n? tell me to stop now otherwise i won’t be able to stop for the rest of the night…”

a whispered “please” slipped out of kiss bitten lips as you watched your boyfriend sit up to take his shirt off and do the same to you. his lips found a new spot at your neck as he nibbled on the supple skin, leaving pink and red marks he would then lick and kiss over. you winced and moan, a pool starting to form in your panties. jaehyun wouldn’t stop now that he got to your neck; he had to go all the way. the once soft kisses you shared between each other turned into a taste of ecstasy. once you started, you could never get enough of the other.

the wetness in your panties was enough to let jaehyun know that you were ready to take him. he took off any remaining clothes the two of you hadn’t already removed, getting his already hard dick ready to thrust into you.

a sharp exhale left both your lips as he inserted into your aching hole. you pulled his face up to yours to face him and resume kissing each others bruising lips. he didn't care anymore if anyone noticed how different his lips looked compared to the day before. all he knew was how he badly he needed you.

your hips bucked against his, having your juices mix and make everything easier on the two of you. it had been long since you two had made time like this for each other, so the intensity of the night was way higher than normal. amidst the sounds of his dick slapping into you, exasperated kisses, and noises your throats made against one another, everything felt perfect. “you drive me so insane, you don’t even know.” was the last thing said before you bit his lip, signaling that you were coming. jaehyun continued at the pace he was at and you reached your climax first, with him pulling out and cumming on top of your clit right after.

this was everything jaehyun needed. your hardworking boyfriend sunk into your chest and gave you a few more kisses before drifting of to bed beside you, not forgetting to tell you what's in his heart:

"i love you."

[indecenthoney]

At Each Other's Throats

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You can find my other stories here!

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 "The fuck you looking at, runt?"

 "Nothing... Just looking... I didn't think they made people as ugly as you..." 

"Huh?!? You wanna fucking fight?"

 "I thought you'd never ask… Bring it, pussy!"

 "Guys. THE PROJECT!" 

There was never a moment that we weren't at each other's throats. Emma was a bite-sized girl with an attitude. Surprisingly enough, she got along with just about anyone. Me being the exception. And I've been around her since kindergarten. I wasn't so sure what made her hate me so much nor did I ever ask. But I wasn't going to take her attitude lying down. After all, we've always been sort of competitive. I just assumed this was just the norm for us, so I didn't really pay it much mind. However, our fights became more frequent and physical by the time we entered college. The only time there was ever peace was after we've fought. I'm not proud about hitting a girl. But she was as far from a girl that I had ever known. And sometimes I'd wonder. Emma knew how to throw a punch and take one as well. And despite our height difference, it never stopped her from picking a fight with me. We did our best to stay away from each other. Unfortunately, that bliss had soon disappeared with our professor grouping us up for a project. Even with our peers disagreeing with the arrangement, he was quite adamant about his decision. Lecturing us about the cruel world. Emphasizing that we will bump into people that we don't want to work with, but that's just how it is. This very decision of his lead to multiple fistfights and arguments. After some scolding from our team, we went about the project without a hitch. All the team really had to do was tape our mouths and keep us apart. 

"Good job team! Thank FUCKING god it's over! A big thank you to our two brawlers who carried this project… Who woulda thought they’d have the brains and brawn? Hahaha... Jokes aside… A cheers to all of you, and let's have a good time, alright?" 

"There you are... You heard the man... Good job on stuttering the entire presentation, pipsqueak..." 

"Huh?! You lonely or something? I don't remember calling you over... And for your information, I would have read it better if it weren't for your chicken scratch..." 

"Chicken scratch?!? Please... Maybe you should get your eyes checked, grandma…." 

"Haha very funny. Ever heard of a laptop? Type it out, old man..."

"Wowwwww… Original insult… Tell me… Was it really my hand writing? Or maybeeee the big words were a little too hard for you… Don’t worry, I’ll dumb it down for you next time…”

"You wanna fucking go?" 

"And here I thought you were getting soft on me… C’mon shorty, throw the first punch…”

“Hey hey hey! What’s everyone cheering for? Oh my fucking god... Seriously? YOU TWO? Again? Really? When I said to have a good time, I didn’t mean to start beating the fuck out of each other… You know what? Sit… ”

“But…”

“He started it…”

“I don’t give a fuck who started it… You guys are going to settle this NOW… You... Bring me the cooler… Rules… First one to black out loses... Loser owes the winner servitude for a week… End of story…”

“Is this really necessary?” 

“Yeah! Give Oliver a break... He can’t hold his drink, you know…"

“Nevermind… Give me that damn can…”

What started off as entertainment for the entire party quickly became a health concern as the floor littered with beer cans. Yet even then, the insults and provocations were clear as a day. Every spectator urging us to keep pace with one another. The crowd joined in. Showing no signs of stopping. The once cheering crowd slowly dropped one after another. Blacking out in the process. Leaving us three standing.

"Oof... Man down..."

"HAHAHAHHA... Light weights!"

"Jeez... Even drunk you guys are still fucking stubborn... Ugh... As much as I want to see how this turns out... Some of these guys have a curfew... Listen... You two can hang out here for all I care... But be sure to clean all this trash up, alright? I don't wanna deal with the extra fees for trashing this place..."

"What? Why us?"

"Heeyyyyyyy Oliverrrrr shtopppp talkinggg! You're shlowing downnnn! Drinkkkkk!"

"Did you get hit in the head too many times, Oliver? You're drunk... I'm not trusting you two idiots to drop our friends home... Now go sober up and fucking clean this place... We'll get you guys in the morning... Alright... C'mon... Wake up... I'm dropping you guys home... Crawl if you have to... Yeah yeah... Sleep in the car..."

"Jeez... Bossy much...? Huh, Jason?"

"Who'd be able handle you two if I wasn't little bit bossy...?"

"Livvvvv.... Drinkkkk..."

"Alright alright... Stop smothering me..."

Jason had a point. Despite playing it cool, I honestly doubt I could have made it to the car. After leaving us be, Emma was still raring to go. Pushing another cold one up to my cheek. Looking back, this might be the first time we ever really sat down and enjoyed each other's company. She had this dumb smile, and honestly, I had no choice but to roll with it. Who would've thought that all it took for us to get along was a few drinks? I gladly accepted. With beer in our system, visions gradually blur. Words exited and slurred without form. Yet we were happy. The eager pace slowed down to a casual sip and laughter. Taking our time, exchanging stories. Although nice things never last. Our drinking came to a sudden halt. Not a single beer or bottle in sight.

"Did you see those two? By the kitchen?"

"Dude... Yessss... The tension between those two... Jeez... Just fuck already..."

"Right?!? Unbelievable... Mmm... Liv... Beer me... My cans empty..."

"Wait hold on... Lemme... Uhhhhh... Shit... Not to ruin the mood, Em... But that was the last one..."

"What?!? No fucking way... How're we supposed to do the bet? Livvvvvv...."

"Stop shaking me... Will you relax? It's just a dumb bet... Does it really matter at this point? No one's here..."

"Huh... Fuck you... We've been drinking for the past three hours... Yes, it matters... It mattered when you went on to chug those two beers in front of those girls... which I remind you that I had to keep up with... Show off... And not to mention, it mattered every single day we fought... So yes, it matters... Because we have a fucking score to settle..."

"What are you talking about? Weren't we just having fun-"

"Oh shut up... I saw you making those googly eyes at those girls... Do you really think chugging beers is going to impress them?"

"Well fuck you! Like you know anything about impressing anyone... Before I found you... You were just standing in the corner like some lost... puppy..."

"Excuse me? If anyone's acting like a dog, it's you... Uhuh... Unlike you, I don't have to chase after every piece of ass I see... But you know what? Since you know everything... Why don't you prove it? Yeah, that's right... Let's change the bet... Why don't we make out... The first one to moan... loses..."

"Fuck no... You're drunk... I am not going to kiss you..."

"Oh please... It's just a kiss... It's not that big a deal... Don't tell me you're scared to lose..."

"Haha... Very funny... I'm gonna go clean up... H-hey what're you- Get off me..."

"Listen... If you wanna give up, that's fine by me... But YOU owe me for a week... Hahahaha... Maybe I'll put a collar on your neck and strut you around those girls you like so much..."

"Huh?! You're making a lot of excuses, Em... You sure you don't just wanna kiss me or something?"

"Ew... Don't get me wrong... This isn't some sad attempt to kiss you... I... fucking... hate... you... The only reason I'm doing this is because I want to win... Now, are you in, or are you out?"

"Fine... But if you lose... You're going to be the one wearing the collar..."

"Deal..."

"You're soooo gonna regret this..."

"Hahhaha... Oh yeah, tough guy... Make me-"

Getting dragged into her pace was my mistake. She had a way of pissing me off. I knew better, but here I was. Tasting the bitter aftertaste of alcohol on her tongue. As hot as it may seem, it was still Emma. I've never ever seen her in that light. Never planned to. Yet suddenly, I'm tongue-deep in her mouth. As much as I hated doing this. I hated losing to her even more. And before you get all riled up. This wasn't some cliche romance story where enemies share a kiss. No. Our hate-filled eyes were constantly fixated on one another, waiting for a moment of weakness. Watching every little reaction. Please. There was not a gentle thing about her. I hate to admit it but the only soft thing here was her tongue. The buzz making it much more difficult to keep my head straight. Slowly, it felt like she was winning. Her short stature now towering over me. My face cupped along her fingertips allowing for a better angle as she indulged in my lips. My hands now trembling around her waist as she devours me. Moan after moan nearly slipping from underneath me. In my bliss, my tongue had reached out to her only to be met with nothing. Having pulled back to look at the mess she's made. A snarky little grin crept onto her face, leaving me embarrassed.

"That's a good look on you... No no keep your tongue out... Dogs should act like dogs, no? Hahaha... Whose the puppy now?"

"Huh? Big talk coming from someone who's blushing... You going to keep stalling, or you going to kiss me?"

"In your dreams... You're going to have to do better than that if you want to- Mmm! H-hey... I'm t-talkin-... You dum-b... mutt... Mmph!"

Impatient? Yes. Needy? Perhaps. But a mutt? Are you fucking kidding me? I'll fucking show you mutt. Taking advantage of our size difference, I quickly pushed her back against the couch's armrest. Pinning her wrists over her as she helplessly flails underneath me. I was pleased to see her struggle in anger. Besides her cussing, it was almost kind of cute. I was met with the same old protests and insults that I've heard a million times before, which got me thinking. She wouldn't be talking so much with my lips pressed against hers. That being said, I placed one soft kiss after another. Little pecks that seem to agitate her even more. Leading her to snap and bite at my advances. Jokingly, I lick along her lips like the dog she claimed I was. Another string of swears fills the room, only to be interrupted yet again. Playfully enveloping her. Sucking roughly on her tongue. Harsh movements reduced to obedience. Hands clutched around the back of my shirt as she melts from her prior tantrum. Without much thought, my hands had made their to her chest. Gently kneading her perky breasts through her shirt and bra. Subtle pleads, leaving me frozen. Tears running down her face as she calls my name.

"L-livvv... T-that hurts..."

"S-shit... Sorry sorry... W-woah uhm... Y-you okay? Oh fuck... C'mon Em... D-don't cry... I... I didn't mean to... I was just- Ow! Fuck! What the hell, man? Why'd you throw me off? I coulda snapped my neck or something..."

"Good! That's for groping me, asshole! Hahaha... Wow... I was right... You do look better underneath me..."

"What the fuck are you talking about? Weren't you just... crying?"

"Please... Is it really my fault you let your guard down? A girl bats her pretty little eyes at you and you flip the script to play hero... C'mon... That's not us, Liv... And don't act so surprised... You started it... After your little stunt, I think I deserve a turn, no? Fight fire with fire? So you're going to lay there and take it... And if you even think about moving... I'll tell everyone you touched me..."

"Y-you are so... fucking... mental... You know that?"

"Says the person who thought it was alright to pin down a girl and grope them..."

"You bitch..."

Can you see what I'm working with? It's no wonder why we fight so much. She's unreasonable. Rude. Psychotic. And taking my pants off. Wait. What? Taking my pants off? There she was, standing over me with my lower half now exposed. I watched closely as she fidgeted with the clasp of her jeans. Revealing her little black boyshorts briefs. Listen. You might be thinking that this bet is going a bit too far, but would you honestly risk being made a fool around campus? Exactly. And from what's happened so far, I'm guessing she was willing to do whatever it takes to beat me. Even if it meant blackmailing me. And honestly, I don't blame her. There being so much on the line, we didn't exactly know what our intentions were once one of lost. The possibilities were scary. She was in full control of the situation with dirt to back it up. If I acted now, I would have lost more than just a dumb bet. It's ironic, really. I told myself I wouldn't take her attitude lying down. But here I am. With my back against the floor. Groaning in pain as she straddles my hard-on. To make matters worse, the thin fabric of her shorts made it feel almost nonexistent. The thought of her slick, wet cunt grinding against me was unbearable. Losing it would be an understatement. This. This was TORTURE.

"Hahahaa... Mmm... Not looking so h-hot, Oliver... Gonna cum? Hm?"

"F-fuck... y-you... Ngh..."

"Hhahaha... You... w-wish..."

With my mind drawing blanks, I was at a loss. Keeping what composure I had left deemed difficult. Her hands pressed firmly against my chest, riding away at my sanity. Though I was nearing my limit, one sensation rang out above the rest: an irritable, smug laugh brought upon by the belief that she had already won. Nothing pissed me off more than arrogance. Having her literally look down on me was a new low. How could she be so unbothered? Grinding on someone she's hated her whole life. Then it clicked. If she was willing to do anything to win, then it was only right to meet her halfway and do the same. Who cares if she ratted me out? She was just as guilty. Just as wrong. Anything to put this little brat in her place. Unaware. My thumb trailed downward beneath her shirt, inching lower and lower until her frantic hips came to a stop. Surprised. That smug smile was gone, leaving her speechless and struggling to find the words to convey her absolute disapproval.

"Hahahah... What's wrong, Em? Is something the matter?"

"Fucker... What do you think you're doing... t-touching me there? A-asshole... S-stop it..."

"Wowwwww... Where are your fucking manners...? You know what? I don't think I will... Let's get things straight... First off, you started it... Not so fun now, huh?"

"What the fuck are you talking about? You started i-"

"Please... Your twisting the story... All I did was kiss you... You had to amp it up and grind against me..."

"I h-hate you... D-die..."

"Hahhaha... Suffer..."

For as long as I've known Emma, she was never the type to back down from a challenge. Be it for better or for worse, she always proved to be annoyingly persistent. Even now, in her current situation, she still had the audacity to move her hips against mine. There, a constant tug of war was at hand. Each party hoping for the other's downfall. In retaliation, I placed small circles around sensitive flesh. Flick. Brush. And grind. Toying with her clit as I pleased. Her enthusiasm dulled by the alternating rhythm. Rocking hips that seem to stutter at every motion causing her to press her wet, needy cunt along the tip of my cock. The sensation overstimulating me in the process. Forcing me to my limit. Even then, we were too stubborn to give up, pushing ourselves even further than we agreed. Fuck. We were far past, just a moan. Every action, eager to make the other cum. Our common sense failing us as we both reached our climax. A jolt of intense pleasure. Followed by a sense of defeat emanating from our breathless moans. The post-nut clarity doing its job as guilt floods my system. I lay there, looking up at Emma, who was barely keeping herself together. Before we had any chance of exchanging words, we were quickly interrupted by the sound of the front door unlocking.

"Em... Oliver... Have you guys seen a black purse around here?"

After hearing Jason's voice at the doorway, we quickly scrambled around to pick up our belongings. It would spell nothing but a disaster if he saw us in such a position. Neither of us would be able to show our face on campus. One quick glance at Emma, and she was on board. Still shaken from all the grinding. Barely able to stand, I picked her up and made a beeline for one of the empty rooms. Shutting ourselves in to avoid any scandal. Jason, who was supposed to be gone for the rest of the night, made his way around the hotel room in search of us. Stopping in front of the exact room we hid in. The knob of the door turning to no success. Panicking. We found ourselves arguing once again. A few hand gestures and angry expressions later, we determined all we could really do was lie.

"J-jason? W-what's up? I thought you left..."

"Oh, there you are... Well... One of those idiots left their apartment key in their purse, and... I can't really leave them outside, can I? Where's Oliver?"

"O-oliver? Uhm... Heeee... went out for a bit... We got into another fight, and he didn't wanna deal with me right now..."

"Hahaha... I am not surprised... Sooo, who won?"

"U-uhm... Me, of course! Hahahaha... You know, Oliver... All talk... No bite... The poor thing...."

"Well shit... Is that right? The others are going to love this... Well, you have fun bossing him around... He's mad now but he always keeps his word... Don't be too mean to him..."

"Y-yeah..."

"Before I forget... Is there like a black purse in there?"

"U-uhmm... N-nope... None that I can see... Just my stuff... Have you checked the living room?"

"Right right... Probably behind the furniture or something... Be right back..."

This bitch. I can't believe she fucking lied. And I mean sure, we were in a pretty compromising situation, but this little lie of hers got me pet duty. If I back out now, everyone's going to call me out. What was I supposed to do? Slave away for an entire week?

"Em! What the fuck was that?"

"Will you lower your fucking voice? He'll hear us... What're bitching about now?"

"What am I... Don't play dumb with me... If I didn't know any better, I think you just threw me under the bus... What the fuck do you mean YOU won?"

"Exactly what I said, duh... YOUUUU came... So you're the loser... LOSER!"

"What?!? We came at the same time, stupid!"

"Nuh uh... You? Make me? Cum? Ha! You're giving yourself too much credit... You could never make me cum-"

"Em? Did you say something?"

"Nothing! I-It's nothing! Sorry! Uhhhhh... My... my... my mom called! H-hahaha she can be kind of a worry wart... But it's fine! Were you... able to find the purse?"

"Ohhhh alright... Yeahhh no... Did you see those guys hanging around anywhere else?"

"Uhhh... They were hanging around the kitchen at one point... Maybe you might wanna check ther- Mm! Aaaa-"

"Em? You good?"

"M-mhm... I-I'm okay... Mmmph..."

"You don't sound okay..."

"I-it's nothing... R-really... M-My s-stoma... Aaa.. chs... just n-not a-agreeing with me r-right now... I'll b-be o-okay... P-promise..."

"Uhm... Okay? I'm gonna go check the kitchen real quick..."

"M-mhm... Y-you do that... Ahahah... Aaa- W-What f-f-fuck are you d-doing?"

It might've been a bit petty of me to mess with her while she was speaking to Jason. But come on, she had it coming. This haughty little princess could never admit a loss. Let alone a tie. So what else is there to do but to fuck with her. I mean "help" her. If she says I didn't make her cum, then the only right thing to do is to lend her a hand. Right? So I did just that. With her preoccupied, I stripped her of her boxers and got to work. To my surprise, she tasted almost sweet. My tongue now lapping over her exposed pussy. Slowly guiding myself over the opening, licking upwards to her clit. Sending shockwaves. Fingers hastingly coiled around my hair, doing her damnedest to yank me off. But to no avail. Her resistance only making it worse causing me to lick her with even more vigor. Emma stood there trembling, her body in shambles yet again as my tongue parted her lips. Leaving her a twitching, nonverbal mess. There a lecherous display of saliva and juices dripping down. As to not waste a single drop, I made sure to pay her thighs as much mind as to any other part of her body. Kissing along it. Still flailing, I pressed my nails deeper into her hips. The walls of her cunt squeezed down as my tongue delved deeper. Shaky breathes that were hard to conceal. The light in her eyes fading into a tempestuous haze. Her hips jerked and pulsed. A gush of heat greeting my tongue before falling to the floor.

"A-Aaa.. Aa.. A... F-f-fuckkk..."

"Hahahahah... Won't you look at that... I can make you cum... What does that make it? Two to one?"

"Livvvvv..."

Emma was ready to swing. Without as much as a second wasted, she had already tackled me to floor. Pushing down on my face and biting at what she could. Like a rabid dog, she was willing to tear limb from limb if it meant paying me back for the embarrassment. Luckily enough, Jason had heard the ruckus and called out to Emma. If it weren't for his intervention, I would have been marked more than I already was.

"Em? Is everything okay? I heard something fall..."

"O-oh y-yeah yeah! J-just dropped my duffle! Any luck on that purse?"

"Ugh... Nope... I tried looking for it on the- Hm? Sorry, give me a bit... Phone call..."

Even if she was pissed, I was surprised to see Emma switching up like that. Keeping such a such straight face even after beating the fuck outta me. But I guess she had her priorities. As I've mentioned, she’d rather drop dead than be seen straddling me. Which was funny. Like I wasn't already decorated in her bite marks.

"Are you fucking serious? Ugh yeah yeah... I'll be there in a minute...

"What was that about?"

"Those drunk idiots... were sitting on the purse the entire time... Anyway... If I leave now I'll still be able to make it home and get some rest before my shift... You going to be okay?"

"Y-yeah... Don't worry about me..."

"Alright... You take care... Oh and... Make sure to check on Oliver... God knows where he is.."

Well, don't you worry, Jason! Because behind door number 1, you'll find me directly under her!

"M-mhm... You guys drive safe..."

There she was. Staring daggers, ready to kill. With Jason out the door, there wasn't a damn thing that could stop her. But if I learned anything from today, it would be that Emma was as much of a sore loser as I was.

"Ohhhh, I'm so scared... What're you going to do? Hit me?"

"Mhm..."

"Fuck-... Hahahah... You punch like pussy... Taste like one too..."

"You're disgusting..."

"Go on, hit me... But this proves it... Youuuu can't even finish what you started..."

"Huh?"

"You heard me... It's still two to one... Whose the loser now? Lose-"

Bam! Emma, throwing another one dead center. My nose bleeding before I could even finish my sentence. With my eyes still recovering, Emma was nowhere to be seen. Not even a blurry figure had replaced her. Just the empty ceiling. In my confusion, my eyes were drawn south to an unfamiliar sensation. Finding the length of my cock was now resting against Emma's soft lips. Her shallow breaths not helping in the slightest. Perpetually hitting the back of cock. In response, an insatiable twitch had begun; begging to be engulfed. Before I could even adjust to the situation, Emma had taken me to the back of her throat. Bobbing her head relentlessly as a form of payback. A tight suction lingered, and all the while, she maintained her eye contact. Never breaking her gaze. Watching closely as I threw my head back from all the pleasure. Encouraging another vicious cycle of mouth fuckery, only ever stopping to catch her breath. Using this chance to regain myself. There I saw a mischievous smile that peeked from behind my member. Her tongue hanging freely over my tip. Drooling atop it as beads of precum leaked over, coating me. Effortlessly overwhelming me once more. This time, caressing my length with short, broad strokes. Her mouth guiding me to my climax. The tip bulging from the side of her cheek. Leaving me to let out such a distasteful groan as I finished.

"Mmmph! Eugh.... Yuck... There... Now... It's two to two... See? Whatever you can do... I can do better... So why don't you just save yourself the embarrassment and give up already?"

"Fuck off... I can do this all day..."

"Okay Captain America..."

It was nothing but a downward spiral. A constant back and forth of petty desperation. Two idiots, too stubborn to give up. Forcibly sinking their teeth wherever they damn pleased. An endless night of lust and violence. Two sides of the same coin. That flipped over and over. No method, being too much. From the bathroom floor to the dining room table. A punch here. A suck there. So much so that you couldn't quite tell if it was a hickey or a bruise. Despite what we've done, no amount of pride meant anything if it meant losing to the other. The only thing that mattered now was winning. There we sat, breathless. Another tie inhibiting our victory, reaching another pointless stalemate. Unsure of what to do, we sat there with one last option festering on our minds. Her eyes fixate on the twitching member pressing against her. Emma, shaking her head at such a ridiculous thought. And believe me, it was ridiculous. If at any point, this would probably be the best time to draw the line. Yet neither party completely objected. Just intoxicated eyes that met nervously in the middle. Anxious and waiting.

"A little late to pussy out now, don't you think? And you call yourself a man..."

"Who said anything about pussy-ing out? I just have some decency..."

"Ha... After what you've done? Don't make me laugh..."

"You're right... But do you really think I would back down and be your dog for a week? We both know we're too stubborn for that... And a little too damn prideful to back down now..."

"Exactly what I was thinking... So what're you waiting for, mutt? It's a little rude to keep a lady waiting... You just gonna sit there, or you gonna fuck me?"

Never would I have imagined that we'd end up in such a situation. It was a bit perplexing to see that feral little ankle biter waiting so patiently along my lap. The situation was tense. My confusion justified. Emma, the pompous annoying brat that I grown used to, wasn't quite there. It was as if she were a completely different person. This girl was curious. Scared even. The complete opposite of how Emma would carry herself. Watching intently as I worked myself into her. Burying my cock deep into her leaky cunt. A hint of pain briefly crossing her face. Forcing her to hide and bite down into my shoulder.

"I-if you even t-think about moving... I-I'm going to k-kill you..."

Seemingly enough, out of all the threats she's made today, I think she was serious this time. And I wasn't going to fuck around and find out. Emma remained still for the first few minutes. Taking but a moment to compose herself. Biding her time as she grew accustomed to the throbbing pain. I had imagined it would have been a bit easier, considering all the foreplay. But no. Even the slightest amount of movement rendered her incapable of keeping her voice. A shrill moan echoed throughout the room as my cock twitched in her warmth. Her pale figure clouded with shades of red, embarrassed to have let out such a sound. Frustrated, she gritted her teeth, steeling herself for the moment. Her hips rigid with motion, still finding it difficult to move. Despite the pain, she pressed forward. Gradually finding her rhythm, fucking me at a pace she deemed fit. It wasn't long before she had begun to enjoy herself. Rocking her hips without a care in the world. A slight hop as she rutted, causing her perky breasts to bounce in the process. Stimulating me even more. Having done so much throughout the night had taken toll on me. Luckily enough, her frantic little hips gave out. Stuttering at every thrust. And though, I was reaching my limit, so was she.

"H-hahah... S-slowing down, Em? Don't tell me you're gonna cum..."

"Y-you first... D-dipshit..."

It was slow. Excruciatingly slow. A full glass of water, ready to tip. One wrong move, and it'd be over. With each of us on the brink, guiding her hips was no simple task. If she were to even buck, the chances of me losing would be inevitable. I couldn't bear another second, watching Emma grind mindlessly against me. Those empty, solemn eyes that wanted nothing more than for me to cum. Seeing her intent, I did everything I could to even the playing field. Keeping her still, I pressed down, sinking her pretty little hips to the base. Squirming as she cockwarmed me. Rubbing her clit, sending shockwave after shockwave. Our brains numbing out from pleasure, forcibly edging each other into insanity. It took everything I had to stop myself. Every instinct telling me to push her down and fuck her senseless. Making her take every last dro-

"L-liv... P-Please... Mmmph... N-no more... I-I need it..."

"E-em?"

Three simple words. Casting away all morality, respect, and pride. Her hands rested neatly around my throat, bracing herself. Giving way to more freedom to move her hips. Emma was losing herself to the pleasure. With tears running down her face. Her climax drawing closer and closer. Paying no mind to my warnings nor savoring the moment. Only chasing the finish that we needed so damn much. Her pussy tightened around my cock. My cum filling her to the brim. A fire pooling deep inside. And before long, Emma had reached her peak. Collapsing atop of me, gasping for every inch of air she could find. Even with my mind abuzz, I still found the strength to caress Emma. Not that I needed to. It just felt right. Running my hands through her hair. Finding the words to say in such an awkward moment.

"Soooooo..."

"Just shut up..."

We laid there the entire night, not speaking a single word. Subtle moans that leaked out from time to time. Adjusting myself, pushing the cum deeper inside her. A few moments relapsing back to our lustful ways. Sharing but another sensual experience. Even as we cleaned, we found ourselves entangled with one another. The hotel phone ringing constantly, to our annoyance. Quickly picking it up, asking for an extension before slamming it back down. Our lips finding it's way back to one another. A day of scandal that we would never ever speak to another soul.

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

"Liv... Mind checking this?"

"You might wanna add the data table there... Oh and here's the papers you wanted..."

"Thanks..."

"Okay okay... I get it... I get it... I know it's weird... I'll ask... I'll ask... Jeez... Heyyyy you two.... Uhm... A-are you guys feeling okay?"

"Mhm..."

"Yeah? Why wouldn't we be?"

"Y-yeah... You know... It's just that the team is... worried... Maybe you guys are working too hard... Uhmm... You know what? We're just kinda surprised that you guys aren't punching each other..."

"I-I don't know... I guess we just... don't feel like it?"

"R-right..."

On the car ride home, we agreed to leave it at a tie—or, more accurately, to never speak of it again. And though our dynamic at school has changed a bit. It doesn't quite mean that all our fights have stopped. We still argue on a daily basis, going for each other's throats. But I guess we go about it in a more literal sense, this time around.

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

Save a toy, ride a gamer boy

Honey

[scummy-writes]

Arguments were not rare between the two of you. There were countless times that you clenched your fists around Gilbert, bitter that he'd chuckle in response to the reason you tried to speak. At times, he was stubborn, set in his ways, and nearly mocking when you tried to go against his wishes to kill someone. You'd been shown proof for his reasonings, forced to try and decide on a middle ground, losing small hopes in humanity during the worst of the cases he let you see.

However far the argument went, though, it was resolved during the same day. With reminders of how unfair the world is, or reminders of how he wished he could believe in solely your way of correcting others, rather than the ultimatum of death. He'd apologize in actions for any belittlement of your beliefs, and would make it clear that you weren't wrong in your hopes or attempts.

It was something you were thankful for, and something that you missed terribly right now. For you hadn't slept with your lover in days.

The argument this time was less about corrupt nobles, and moreso... the result of stubbornness. And now you were learning just how stubborn the two of you could be. A few hours without Gilbert felt so much longer, but a few days? You missed sharing your warmth with him.

You had no doubt he shared your same feelings, due to his ever evolving possessiveness with you. Despite how obviously angry the two of you still were, he'd still see to it that Roderic made sure you ate and were taken care of, as well as having Walter check up on you.

Learning Gilbert-ese had certainly come in handy, because if it wasn't for that, you'd likely be trying to mourn your relationship instead. For now, you stretched back on your bed with a disappointing huff, wondering when it was reasonable to admit you were being childish, and apologize. But for that to happen, you needed Gilbert to come to terms with doing so as well.

A man who would rather shoot first than ask questions. (Well, not with you, but...) A man so stubborn that it took him to dramatic lengths to understand some of his anger towards you previously was worry, and was shocked from experiencing it.

... it may be another few more days. Perhaps you could play into his dramatics and write him a letter?

Before you could pull out the ink and paper, the door swung open with a thunk, making you yelp out a curse.

"G-Gil?? Hey-!"

You couldn't help it - Gilbert strode in with determination, plucking you from your bed and securing you in your arms, refusing to let you stand - and the second he did so you squeaked.

"You can't carry me like-" a sideways glance, cocking his brow unimpressively. Ugh! Okay, he could carry you without an issue. "What are you doing?"

No answer. He remained tightlipped, carrying you through the halls without a care towards those staring. Or the way your cheeks burned from the act.

"I-I'm still mad, you know."

But the poor admittance did nothing but tense his jaw, leaving you to sigh. No, he wasn't going to put you down.

... at least his grip was gentle, despite how tense he was. And after a few moments, you realized exactly where he was taking you to: his 'lab' upstairs.

He often worked there, especially when the weather was sunny and on the warmer side. Regardless of how dark and moody he kept his dress and room, he was fond of the warmth of the sun.

When he opened the final door (with some help from you to turn the knob), you were greeted with the sky shining through the wide windows, filling the room with natural light. It gave a cozy feel to the room, almost as if the two of you were outside.

As for why you were brought here, though...

Gilbert ignored his desk as he trudged through the room, and instead beelined towards the hammock resting away from the paperwork. Over time, he had switched from his small, single hammock, to a bigger one that could accommodate the both of you.

And he promptly, unceremoniously, plopped you onto it.

"Wait- hey!"

A pillow and blanket were tossed upon you, and then with a huff, Gilbert climbed into it as well, grumpily moving the pillow and blanket to comfort the both of you.

"I don't care how you feel right now, little rabbit." He huffed, drawing you into his arms and sighing into your hair, "... I haven't been able to sleep."

Slowly, but surely, you felt his rigid body start to loosen. To relax the longer you settled into his arms. And the more he did so, you found the fight leaving your body, causing you to sigh.

" ... I'm still a little angry, you know."

"Yes, you've proven yourself quite stubborn."

"... but... I still love you all the same."

"... as do I."

[familiarlyfrigid]

Chapter 2 is posted!

Click the ao3 link or read below:

ㅤ Alastor woke up in his room, blinking in confusion as he registered where he was, because he remembered falling asleep on the sofa. Lucifer had been sitting on the other end, and he vaguely remembered talking to him. No one else was around, so did that mean that… Lucifer carried him to bed? He sat up and rubbed his head as a surge of pain reminded him that he still felt terrible. His head hurt, his throat hurt, his body ached, and his mind was foggy, though it wasn’t as bad as it had been the previous night.

He also remembered having some strange dreams—letting Lucifer pet his ears, leaning his head on the King’s shoulder, cuddling with him so closely as if he was holding Alastor tight to protect him from harm. He shivered, though it wasn’t out of repulsion towards the thought, and pulled a blanket around himself, deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to stay in bed for a few more minutes. While he wasn’t entirely against the idea of being more affectionate towards Lucifer, physical touch wasn’t really his way of showing endearment. Besides, Alastor was a very private person—he couldn’t get too friendly without inviting questions that he didn’t want to answer. He told himself that he just wasn’t thinking straight. His feverish dreams didn’t mean anything.

It was just a dream, right?

He took a deep, rattling breath, which he regretted as he started coughing. He sat at the edge of the bed, slowly standing up and preparing himself for the wave of dizziness he knew was coming. He managed to get dressed, but that was all he had the energy for. Running his hands through his messy hair in an attempt to straighten it, he looked at himself in the mirror and made himself look as presentable as he could, forcing his ears to point up and making his toothy grin almost look real. As tempting as it was to stay in bed all day, it would be awfully boring, so he headed downstairs to the kitchen. The walk was much longer than usual—actually, he normally just teleported instead. He cursed the constant fatigue that weighed him down as he forced his legs to carry him.

Alastor forced himself to eat a little and take some medicine, which prevented Charlie from fussing over him too much. Most of the others had already been up for a few hours. Not Lucifer, though; he was just coming downstairs to get some coffee. He didn’t say anything to Alastor. In fact, the King almost seemed to be avoiding him, only briefing telling Charlie once again that she shouldn’t worry about the sick demon. Maybe he felt awkward about last night, too?

Alastor soon moved to the parlor and sat in his armchair, wondering what to do with his time. There was no way Charlie would let him get any work done, though he didn’t really feel like trying in the first place. Everyone got to busying themselves for the day, leaving him by himself until Lucifer came over and leaned against the side of the chair. “So, how are you doing? Are you sure you should be up and about?”

He huffed as his ears drooped, and Lucifer couldn’t help but think that he looked cute that way. Static crackled in the air, mirroring the painful buzzing in his head. “Do you really expect me to stay in bed all day? The least I can do is keep tabs on everyone while I rest.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to ease the pressure pounding behind his eyes, and groaned, “My head is still killing me…”

“Do you want me to scratch behind your ears again?” the other asked with a playful smile.

Again? Alastor’s eyes widened, his thoughts slowly untangling as the veil clouding his memory started to lift. “What?”

His expression grew a little more sheepish, like he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. “You said it helped last night.”

Oh, he didn’t imagine it. The memory was beginning to come back to him now—he actually did fall asleep with Lucifer practically cradling him in his wings, out in the open where anyone could have seen them. His flushed face went an even brighter red, and the room suddenly felt too hot. “No one else saw us, correct?”

“Everyone else was asleep. I woke up at some point in the morning and brought you to your room before anyone saw.”

“Good,” he said with a sniffle, his voice ragged and stuffy. He gazed up at the other man, who was looking at him expectantly, a shameless smile across his face.

“Well? You haven’t answered my question.”

Alastor glanced across the room to the bar, where Husk and Angel Dust were talking. They seemed too engrossed in their conversation to run the risk of disrupting him. Was he really doing this? Letting himself be so dependent on someone for comfort as soon as he was in a vulnerable state? He could always deny it later on, he thought, say that he was still a little delirious and that none of it meant anything. He’d just lie his way out of admitting that Lucifer made him feel comfortable. Deciding that they were alone enough, he sighed, “You may touch my ears.”

Lucifer moved over to the sofa and sat down. “Come and lay down.”

He got up and sat at the other end, then stretched out across the entire length of the sofa. His feet dangled over the edge of the armrest, his head in the Devil’s lap. He felt hands move through his hair, pointed nails gently scratching at his scalp. It was strange, the way he only allowed certain people to touch him like this. Maybe it was some animalistic instinct he was allowing himself to give in to. Lucifer ran his hand over the length of the demon’s ears in slow, relaxing motions. His other hand brushed over Alastor’s forehead—still slightly warmer than normal. All of the sinner’s apprehension slowly melted away, lost to the soothing touch and persistent fatigue pulling him away from his thoughts. The white noise in his mind started to quiet down as he relaxed. He supposed that he could allow himself to lay there for a little while, even if it meant being ridiculed later by the others, and closed his eyes with a genuine smile.

I crave cute caretaking fics, so I’m writing one. This one can be interpreted as platonic or romantic radioapple!

Chapter 2 will come… eventually.

ㅤ Sitting on the sofa in the hotel’s lobby, Lucifer was only partially paying attention to what was on the TV. He soon found himself leaning against the armrest and closing his eyes, gradually drifting to sleep. It was late—a little after one in the morning—and the hotel was unnaturally quiet. Everyone else was asleep—except for Alastor, who was laying on the other end of the sofa and was evidently awake, stretching his legs out and shoving one hoof into Lucifer’s side in the process. He shifted, then pulled the blanket draped over him tighter around himself and curled up in the exact same position he was in before. He’d been repeating that same routine all night.

Lucifer was annoyed at being woken up, but he couldn’t bring himself to be angry at the poor deer. He knew he had to feel like shit to be so restless when he’d been so tired during the day. He had denied being sick for most of the day, even though it was obvious from the sound of his voice and the look of exhaustion behind his forced smile. His energy eventually ran out, much to his chagrin, and he’d been lying on the couch since that evening. His ears were flopped to the sides, his cheeks and nose were flushed red, and the dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than usual. Lucifer offered to look after him for the night, telling Charlie that he didn’t want her worrying about him. While that was true, it wasn’t the real reason he was so insistent. He wanted to be the one to care for Alastor and spend some time with him, but he didn’t want to outright say it. Everyone knew that the two were getting along, but they weren’t very open about just how much time they’d been spending together.

Alastor sat up a little, supporting himself with one arm, and started coughing harshly into his fist. It left his breathing ragged and faintly rattling in his chest as he blearily opened his eyes. He squinted at the TV for a moment before shielding his eyes with a static-filled groan. “Why are you watching this?” he mumbled, his voice hoarse and his words slightly slurred.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I thought some background noise would help.”

“There are better sources of background noise, you know,” he said, sounding only half awake. He closed his eyes, keeping them covered by his hand. “Turn that off. It’s too bright.”

Lucifer sat up and reached for the remote, switching the TV off. He looked at Alastor, who shifted to be sitting up with his arms wrapped around his knees and was shivering, and furrowed his brow. He really should’ve gone to bed a long time ago. “Do you want me to take you to your room?” Surely his bed was more comfortable than the couch, yet he shook his head in response. Instead, he slid closer to the King and leaned his head against his shoulder. Lucifer’s eyes widened in surprise, a flutter of excitement in his chest at just how close he was. Alastor never initiated any sort of physical affection and, as far as he knew, wasn’t comfortable enough around him to allow for much physical contact between them. He wasn’t sure whether he should be glad that the sinner wanted to be so close to him, or worried because that was so unlike him. Either way, he seemed to relax a little, and letting him rest was the most important thing right then.

He decided to push his luck a little further, and raised a hand to gently run his fingers through the other man’s hair. He watched Alastor’s reaction carefully, ready to back off if he showed any signs of discomfort. But he didn’t. He simply closed his eyes and nestled his head against the Devil’s neck, overly-warm body slumped against his. His hair was soft, albeit tangled and slightly damp with sweat. The hand in his hair moved to one of his large, fluffy ears, slowly stroking his crimson fur. He made no attempt to move, letting his ears be petted and his head gently scratched, like the others did to Keekee. After a few minutes, the deer demon opened his eyes. There was a buzz of static in the air as he lifted his head, then suddenly sneezed, one of his ears swatting Lucifer in the face as they flicked back against his head. Alastor sniffled, then leaned against him again with a groan.

“Watch where you aim those things,” he said with no actual malice in his voice, flicking the tip of one ear. He pushed the shivering demon off of himself, keeping one hand on his shoulder to steady him because it seemed like he was barely awake. Since he decided that he was not leaving the couch, he was at least going to make himself comfortable. With a wave of his hand, Lucifer’s clothes were swapped with pajamas. Sanguine feathers spread at his sides as one pair of wings sprouted from his back. He laid down, then guided Alastor to lay with his head resting on his chest. His wings wrapped around the other, draping over the blanket that was already covering him.

Lucifer went back to stroking him behind the ears with an amused smile. A powerful Overlord like him, being treated like a harmless pet. “I never would’ve thought that you could be so clingy. You like being scratched behind the ears?” It felt a little wrong of him to enjoy this so much, but when would he get a chance to be this affectionate with him again?

“It distracts me from this headache…” he slurred out, coughing a few times. His voice sounded like it was coming from a cheap, malfunctioning speaker.

“Does cuddling with me help, too?”

There was a short pause. “Yes.” The admittance was so casual that Lucifer couldn’t help but chuckle. There was no way he would ever confess something like that if he wasn’t so out of it. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if Alastor fully knew what he was saying.

“I think you’re just delirious.”

“Maybe…” His voice trailed off like he was starting to fall asleep, so Lucifer stayed quiet. He laid awake for a while, listening to the sinner’s static-filled breathing and intermittent coughing. Then, he slowly drifted to sleep as well, his wings still comfortingly wrapped around the other.

[schnaf]

day 23 aka THE COUNTDOWN IS OVER - jungsu's past birthday brrrr ppoppos

[spotaus]

Late Night quick thing (New Age Sillies)

Bad news: That joke post about including Reset + Orchid is definitely not canon. (I legit got sad thinking about Reset being in a universe where Orchid isn't- because their stories are so so intertwined- but Nightmare 100% would NOT risk the whole twins exploding Error's soul thing.)

Good news: This means I COULD include Kane (Reset's older brother who usually dies in timelines where Reset is born) and use it to develope his character a bit more! Also! Perhaps a Blue × Dream kiddo is finally in the stars for me to design?

[classyrbf]

thinking about husband!toji who becomes overly affectionate and possessive when he sees some other man eyeing you down like a piece of meat. Of course your pretty self doesn’t even notice, too worried about showing him the dresses you think are cute and he sees the guy just down the aisle staring at your ass, sizing you up and stripping you naked with his eyes. So what does Toji do? He’s already extremely intimidating no matter what, with his broody nature and muscular build, most people won’t even dare to look your way, but some do. Toji simply stares at the guy, full on stares like a psycho and if that doesn’t scare them away, he grabs you by your ass, im talking ass in hand, squeezing it and pulling you towards him. “Toji!” You’d whine with a giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips. “What was that for?” You question, smiling up at him. “Oh nothing, mama, just some fucker keeps staring you down like you’re his.” He pressed another kiss to your lips only this time he didn’t pull away, making out with you right in front of the guy who rolls his eyes and walks away.

And when you and Toji go out to a party or the club, he swears he can’t step away from you for one second without some asshole trying to hit on you. He goes to the bar to grab you both a drink and the moment he turns his head, some guy is dancing up on you, ruining your vibe. “I have a husband.” You point to the ring on your finger, the diamond glistening in the light. “So? He don’t gotta know—” Toji throws his drink in the man’s face and throws a punch right to his jaw. “Fuck man!” The dude drops to the floor in pain. “Get the fuck away from my wife, you understand? Piece of shit.” Toji holds you by the waist, taking a sip of the drink he didn’t throw at the man before tossing it on him. “Let’s go, baby.” He whispers in your ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

And when you’re back home, all you do is smile at him, pulling him in by his jacket. “You’re so sexy when you get all protective and possessive.”

“Oh, yeah? Does it do something to you, mama?” His lips curl into a smirk. You nod at him, biting on your lower lip.

“Ah!” You yelp with a laugh as he tosses you over his shoulder and carries you to the bedroom which will be occupied all night.

[littlelamy]

boat scene with rafe

requested by @gibson-g1rl l <3 😘 part 2

credits: oysters png from @saizun , and amazing gifs from @rafeyscurtainbangs

The boat rocks beneath you as you step toward where Rafe sits bound against the wall, looking both furious and oddly vulnerable. You catch his eye as you enter the room, holding a small packet of aspirin and a plate of food. His eyebrows lift slightly in surprise, but his cocky smirk returns almost immediately.

“Look who’s here to take care of me,” he drawls, his voice dripping with that familiar teasing tone, though there’s a flicker of genuine relief in his eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to your words. You set the plate down next to him and hand over the aspirin, glancing away to avoid letting him see the small, reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “Thought you’d need this. Can’t have you passing out on us.”

Rafe takes the aspirin from your hand, holding your gaze just a little too long before he swallows it dry. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting room service,” he murmurs, eyes never leaving yours. “Didn’t know you cared this much.”

You scoff, folding your arms. “You should know by now I don’t want you dead, Rafe,” you say with a wry smile. “But don’t expect this to become a habit.”

He chuckles, the sound low and a little smug. “We’ll see about that,” he says, shifting against the ropes, clearly enjoying the attention. He nods toward the plate. “So, what—are you gonna feed me, too?”

You blink, taken aback by his nerve, and then raise an eyebrow, letting sarcasm color your voice. “Would you like me to? Or do you think you can manage?” You narrow your eyes, daring him to keep pushing.

Rafe’s smirk wavers, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink as he quickly looks away. “I can handle it,” he mutters, clearly flustered but trying to play it off. “Don’t get carried away.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t planning to.” But you can’t help the grin tugging at your lips as you settle back, watching as he tries to pick up a piece of food from the plate with an awkward, fumbling grip, struggling against the restraints.

You stifle a laugh as he tries to eat without making a mess, and he catches you smiling, his jaw tightening. “Something funny?” he snaps, though there’s a hint of embarrassment in his tone.

You shrug, biting back your amusement. “Nothing at all. You look perfectly in control.”

Rafe grumbles under his breath, focusing intently on his food to avoid meeting your eyes. Another wave rocks the boat, causing you to steady yourself against the wall, and you look back to find him watching you, something almost like concern flickering in his gaze.

“Be careful,” he mutters, his voice softer, dropping the bravado for a split second.

For a moment, you just look at each other, the storm outside and the chaos around you fading into the background. His cocky expression softens, and he gives you a small, grateful nod. He won’t say it, but you know he’s thankful.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, his gaze lingering on you a beat longer.

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply, crossing your arms as you lean back against the wall. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

Rafe grins, his cockiness slipping back into place, but now it’s warmer, less of a wall and more like something shared just between the two of you. As he reaches for another bite, he murmurs, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” And as much as you try to resist, you can’t help the small, reluctant smile that crosses your face in response.

The storm hits hard, the boat rocking violently beneath your feet. You’re barely able to keep your balance as you make your way through the narrow, dimly lit hallway. Waves crash against the hull, each one sending a jolt of panic through your body. But there’s something else clawing at you—something that won’t let you ignore the sound of Rafe’s voice, sharp and desperate, calling from another room.

“Come on! Cut me loose!” His voice cracks, the desperation in it too raw to ignore.

You freeze, breath catching in your throat. Rafe. He’s still tied up. The ropes are holding him in place as the boat teeters precariously on the brink of capsizing. You can hear Pope and Cleo yelling from the kitchen, their voices overlapping, trying to convince you to leave it alone. To save yourself. But you can’t. Not this time.

You grip the knife tighter, your fingers cold and trembling from the anxiety rising in your chest. There’s no time to think. Rafe’s call keeps echoing in your head, and that voice—the urgency, the fear—pushes you forward. You make your way toward the room where you heard him last, the sound of the storm growing louder as it pounds against the sides of the boat.

Before you even get to the door, Cleo’s voice rings out. “No! Y/N, No!”

Pope’s voice follows, sharper. “Y/N, stop don’t let him out!”

But you keep moving. You don’t stop. You can’t. There’s no way you’re going to let Rafe stay there, helpless and bound, when you can do something about it.

When you reach the door, you shove it open, and the sight of Rafe tied up against the far wall hits you with a jolt. He’s slumped slightly, sweat slicking his forehead, his face drawn with exhaustion and frustration. His eyes snap to you, and for a split second, they soften with something almost like relief.

“Cut me loose, come on!” He says again, his voice strained, but louder this time, more insistent.

His hands are bound tightly in thick ropes, his legs spread out uncomfortably beneath him. The ropes seem too thick for him to break on his own. You can see the tension in his body, the way his muscles twitch from the strain, and the panic that flickers behind his gaze. There’s no time to waste. You don’t think twice. You crouch in front of him, the knife in your hand glinting in the low light.

Rafe watches you, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “Don’t make me regret this,” you murmur, feeling your heart beat faster as you cut into the thick rope that’s holding him in place. Your hands are shaking, the knife slipping slightly as the boat tilts again, but you focus on the task at hand.

“Come on, hurry up.” His words are clipped, desperate, and you push aside the nervous tightness in your chest as you work faster, cutting the ropes.

You’re close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, a stark contrast to the cold, wet air from the storm. The boat groans as another wave slams against it, and Rafe’s eyes flicker to the window, then back to you.

“Please,” he breathes, and it’s that one word that makes everything else fade away—the roaring storm, the panicked shouting from the others, the ticking clock of time slipping away.

The last thread gives way with a sharp cut, and Rafe’s hands are free. His arms immediately reach for you, grabbing hold of your wrist with a surprising amount of force, pulling himself upright.

“Thanks,” he mutters, his voice rough, but there’s something deeper in it, something like a sense of vulnerability you’ve never seen from him before.

You don’t have time to say anything, to wonder if he’s really thankful or if he’s just grateful to be free. The boat shudders violently, and you both stumble as the hull groans beneath you. The wind howls outside, whipping against the windows, and you know there’s not much time before things get worse.

Rafe doesn’t wait for an invitation. He grabs your arm, pulling you toward the narrow hallway. “We need to get to somewhere safer,” he says, his tone not leaving any room for an argument.

You’re both moving quickly, though the boat keeps pitching wildly. The wind screeches, and water sloshes against the floorboards. Every step feels like a risk, like the boat could capsize at any moment. But Rafe doesn’t let go of your arm. He pulls you behind him, guiding you toward a small corner near the engine room, the only place that might offer even the slightest bit of shelter.

You slide into the corner, pressing yourself against the cold wall. It’s not the safest place, but in the madness of the storm, it’s all you have. Rafe follows, wedging himself beside you. There’s barely enough room for the two of you, but you don’t mind. You’re not focused on that right now. All you can think about is how the boat is rocking, how you’re both on the brink of disaster, and how Rafe’s body is so close to yours.

He leans into you, his breathing ragged and uneven. For a moment, he pulls away, but then his hand is at your waist, his grip tightening. It’s almost like he’s afraid you might slip away from him. He presses his body closer, his face now inches from yours, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart.

Rafe places his head on your neck, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder. The warmth of his breath on your skin is both comforting and unsettling, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you place your hand on his back, the pressure of your touch grounding both of you as the storm rages on around you.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, though you’re not sure if you’re trying to reassure him or yourself.

Rafe doesn’t respond, but you feel his muscles relax, his tense body unwinding little by little. He’s not just holding onto you for stability; it feels like he’s holding onto you for something more. You can’t explain it, but there’s something in the way he leans into you, something raw and vulnerable that you’ve never seen before.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln

[carebearbussy]

𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨

ᥫ᭡ 𝙨𝙮𝙥𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝… 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙪𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙮.

ᥫ᭡ 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙧𝙖! 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

ᥫ᭡ 𝙘𝙬: 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩, 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 '𝙪𝙜𝙡𝙮' 𝙖𝙣𝙙 '𝙨𝙡𝙪𝙩', 𝙗𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜.

ᥫ᭡ 𝙬𝙘: 2.7k

𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

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Your day went as normal as usual.

You walked with you head held high, a pep in your step as you wondered around the large estate claimed by Sukuna. Alongside you, was one of your loyal handmaids, ordered by Sukuna to accompany you by default. It was early morning, as you heard the talkative birds chirp in the crisp air. It was very relaxing, especially for you, who was often picked on by your fellow concubines, who were supposed to support you.

As you stepped onto the stone walkway that led to your beloved garden, you noticed the flowers slightly dwindling in color, as the stems had lost their pin point shape. This made you frown, as you realize you had forgot to water them recently. Your handmaiden follows behind you respectfully, as you walk through the rows of colorful flowers.

"You must really enjoy the flowers, my lady." You handmaiden pointed out, coming to that conclusion as she had watched you tend to the flowers every day without fail. It was something she admired about you greatly, that being your calm nature, even under the circumstance of Sukuna wanting you to be monitored 24/7. She felt some sort of pity, even through her love for Lord Sukuna. "Yes, I am quite fond of them. They are very beautiful, but they look very dull today..." You say through your pouting.

You walk over to the gardening table over by the end of the conservatory, as you put on your gardening gloves, as well as putting your hair in a high ponytail. Your handmaiden looks at you with her head tilted, questioning your motives. "My lady, you should not be getting your hands dirty. I suggest you stick to watering instead of doing the dirty work." She said, worried about what Lord Sukuna would think if he saw his favorite consort getting her pretty hands dirty. You look over at her while carrying a bag of soil, walking over to the start of where the flowers were.

"Its fine, really. He wont even know I was here today, hes out for a business meeting. Uraume informed me he may not return for a couple of days." You said, reassuring her, as you kneel down to tend to the garden. "Okay, if it is what you wish..." She says, looking around to see if anybody was watching. "I will just stay here and keep watch."

As you patted down the soil, you sprinkled water over the plants, the glass of the garden house letting the sunlight shine in. You looked at your work as you were halfway through, proud of the work you had so far accomplished. But as you were admiring your handiwork, you heard a group of heavy footsteps walk into the large garden house. You were not expecting anybody else to come here except for you, so who was it. Oh, of course, its them.

A group of three notorious mid ranking concubines, followed by one high ranking one. You audibly sighed, knowing what would follow suite. They laughed when they saw the sight before them. Sukuna's favorite? Doing a maids work? It was laughable to them. Was this finally the moment Lord Sukuna kicked you to the curb, and realized your true worth? That was what they hoped for in the end, but for now, they had to have their moment of joy, which was picking on you.

"My, my, my. Look at what we have here. Little Y/N is out doing the work of those lower than her? What did you do to make Lord Sukuna that upset?" The lead woman spoke, cackling along with the other girls. Your face distorted into that of annoyance. You looked at the girl straight in the eyes, preparing to attempt to defend yourself. "Why are you all here? To ridicule me? If you must know, I chose to tend to the garden."

One of the girls standing behind the lead scoffs, stepping slightly forward. Looking at your handmaids, then to you. "You really are pathetic, if you must need that woman with you at all times." She says, gesturing her hand towards your handmaiden. Your handmaiden looks away, too afraid to talk back to the likes of somebody a higher rank than her. "It would be a damn shame if you got dirt on your precious face, it's already messed up, you aren't the prettiest woman ever." Another one adds in, creating more fuel to the fire by taking a jab at your appearance.

This stroke a nerve in you, your self esteem slowly crumbling as they go on. The lead concubine takes a step closer to your kneeling form, looking down on you as if you were nobody. She crouches down to your eye level, grabbing your chin on each side with her fingers. "I really don't see what Lord Sukuna saw in you. He must not be very interested in you anymore. You are nowhere near perfect. Especially after your massive weight gain." She says, knowing the damage she is doing to you. She lets go of your chin, pushing you slightly back. "It wont be long before he gets rid of you for good, hopefully as soon as possible. We don't need an ugly duckling the likes of you waddling around the well known beauty of Lord Sukuna's estate." She says, brushing astray dirt off her kimono, as the girls behind her laugh at her words.

You feel tears forming in your eyes, as you try your best to hold them back and to not lash out at the woman, you mouth hanging agape from shock. But you are not as slick as the woman currently standing before you. She looks at you, a smirk crossing her fair face in accomplishment. "Aw, whats wrong? Are you going to cry? Your already the biggest slut in the palace, I don't need to call you more hurtful things."

And this was the last push to send you over the edge, as you felt hot tears spill from your eyes. The girls laughed louder, mocking your weak state. You panicked, as you got up, pushing the woman out fo your way as you ran out of the garden house, your gloves still on, your ponytail messy. You ran as far away from the scene as you could, as your handmaiden ran after you, pure shock in her eyes. Embarrassment crept up your spine, as you ran all the way to the opposite side of the wing of the garden, out of sight from any onlookers. How were you to face anybody?

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You lay sorrowful in your large bed, curled up into a ball as you cradled your knees. Your eyes were puffy with sorrow, as warm tears streamed down your face, all the way down to your chest. Your nose was stuffy, snot running trickling down your nose. Used tissues covered the bed like a sea, as your handmaiden handed you more. She rubbed your back, as she sat on the edge of the bed watching you.

"My lady, please don't cry." She said, worried for you and your morale. You look up at her through wet eyelashes, as you sniffled into a half dirty tissue she held up for you. "Easy for you to say, you don't know what its like to be me. It feels like every single day, the people of the estate seem to hate me even more, and I try so hard to avoid it. I just don't know how to endure it anymore." You say, your lower lip quivering.

Your handmaiden looks at you pitifully. She feels like she knows you so well. She felt like your only true friend since being welcomed into Sukuna's estate. So it hurt to see you like this, especially after witnessing the unfair treatment you had received throughout your time here. The slow hand that once rubbed your back moved up to move the loose hair from your face, letting her see your full face out on display. But instead, you cover it, by moving your head more towards the pillows, the concubines words clearly getting to your head.

But she saw right though you. "My lady, the things those girls have said are simply untrue. I'm sure they were just saying that to get a rise out of you. They want what they cannot have, especially your close relationship with Lord Sukuna." You stop into your own world and think about it. Yes sure, you knew jealousy was a big factor in their distaste in you, but then why would they say such specific things? Were you truly all of those things they said you were?

"I'm sure it stemmed from what they truly want from you. All they want are reactions like these from you-" She says, but intervened by none other than the man himself, the head of the entire estate, Sukuna, who had came home unexpectedly earlier than usual.

Your handmaiden from what seems like instinct, immediately gets up to bow, anxiety filling her system for the largely built man standing before her. "Just what the hell do you think you are doing in my quarters uninvited?" He asks, unamused by the sudden appearance by anybody other than you. He looks down at her, waiting impatiently for an answer. "My lord, I was just tending to My lady, Y/N. She seemed in distress after a sudden altercation-" Without a second thought, he pushes her out of the way with his foot. Searching for you. He hears sorrowful sniffles coming from his large bed, as he raises his eyebrow in confusion. Who is in his bed? Ahh, it you, something must have happened.

You look up slightly from the bed to be greeted by Sukuna's broad stature, as you turn away from him, not wanting to face the fact that you failed to stand up for yourself. You had always made it a point to prove that you were strong willed, but this time around, you had failed. And failure is something you had feared around the likes of Sukuna.

He walks over to the opposite side of the bed that you were on, not wanting to upset you further, knowing how you become when you are upset. You try to muffle your sniffling, but to no avail. He looks at your chest rise and fall quickly, due to the nature of your fast breathing. A loud, audible sigh is heard behind you, the sound of it making chills creep up your spine. He then looks over at the handmaiden, who is still kneeling on the floor. "Leave." He says to her, as she quickly gets up to take her leave, not stopping to say anymore goodbyes.

He then looks back at you, who is unable to turn his way. "Whats wrong brat? Are you going to explain what happened, or are you just going to lay there like a sappy little thing." He says, crawling into bed, grabbing hold of your waist. He notices you flinching, keeping it in mind that when you are sad, you become sensitive to touch. He slowly brings you into his chest, your legs straddling his lower waist. Your body shakes as you hide your face within his chest, getting his robe wet with your snot.

"Look at me." He orders you, clearly not liking the mood you are in. But you don't move. Instead, you move your head side to side, still hiding your face from sight. Your head nuzzles further into his chest, as you move your arms to either side of his waist, hugging him deeply as you inhale his scent. You feel your tears keep running, as you use his robe to wipe them. "I told you to look at me, I wont repeat myself a third time." He said, sternly informing you. You didn't want to upset him, so you slowly look up at him, barely being able to hold eye contact. His eyebrows slightly furrow, as he slightly adjusts himself on the bed.

"Christ, what happened to you woman?" He says, using his upper left hand to wipe away the tears staining your face. He brushed his thumb over your cheek, but quickly stopping realizing how intimate that was. You hesitated before you spoke. "Its just... there are these girls, and I feel like ever since you became a part of my life, I have been tormented by them." You said, the thought of them ridiculing you flooding back into your mind like a storm, causing more tears to flood your waterline. "Torment? How so?" He asks, wanting to hear more.

"Like today for example, I was just trying to tend to the garden, and they came in and- its just- its complicated." You said, not wanting to spill the full details, worried of his reaction. "What did those woman do." He said. It was more of him trying to figure out what happened, than a question towards you. But you felt your emotions run high, causing you to completely unfold before Sukuna. "They came in, and they basically told me I would never amount to anything, and how i'm ugly, and that I gained weight recently."

He looks at you, his upper lip curling into that of disgust for what he just heard. You? Ugly? Never amount to anything? Gaining weight? This was all ridiculous to him. He would never truly understand why you were upset at being called those things, but he particularly did not like the reaction you had to it. Seeing you cry, for some reason, tore on his heart strings hard. Your emotions ran through him like an electrical current. He lowered his back into the mattress, still holding you tight.

"That has to be one of the most absurd things I have heard in my years of living. You are none of those things. Why would I care about such laughable things. You're my woman, nobody else is able to judge you, except for me."

You look at him with glossy eyes, as you place your hands over his chest, which had a wet patch due to the mixture of your snot and tears. You felt your lip quiver all over again at his words, thus resting your face on one side of his chest. You let all your tears run out, as you felt yourself quietly wail at the hands of Sukuna. He placed a large hand over your back, massaging your back, soothing you simultaneously.

"Thats it, let it all out. God, you look so weak right now, its quite endearing." He says, a slight smile being hidden from your field of vision. You grip onto the ridges of his robe, using it to try to grab onto something. His lower hands grip each side of your bottom, holding you for leverage. As he massaged your back, he pet your hair with his other top hand. Your hair was always one of his favorite things about you, which is something that stuck in your head. The words of your handmaiden ran through your head as well;

'They want what they cannot have, especially your close relationship with Lord Sukuna.'

It was true after all. And you will come to realize that as time goes on. How lucky did you get to become Sukuna's most favored? Any other girl in your situation would think the same way. Especially the way he is giving you so much attention. It makes you so happy. Knowing those girls would give anything to be in your situation. You felt like a princess.

You felt yourself fall into deep slumber, the comfort of your thoughts, along with Sukuna's relaxing hold bringing you comfort in moments like these. He looks down at you as he notices you had seized your crying. He thinks about moving from his spot, but decides against it, not wanting to ruin your beauty sleep. You needed this, he thinks. And he was right. He brushes the hair that covers your ear out of the way with his hand, as he leans down to whisper into your sleeping form.

"You can trust, those woman will be dealt with accordingly."

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(𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙄 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙥𝙩 2?)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I CRUMBLE COMPLETELY WHEN YOU CRY ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; after a tense fight with your boyfriend, you flee out into a brewing rainstorm. luckily, suguru is always willing to warm you up again.

word count; 6.2k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, copious amounts of hurt/comfort, no really that’s literally all this fic is, sugu snaps at you for worrying about him, (and then promptly spirals), he makes it up to you though :), healthy communication ensues, [name] is used exactly once, switching povs, soft & fluffy ending <33

a/n; going back to my roots (mindless hurt/comfort) 🙏🙏 i just think that if suguru picked me up like a small kitten and put me in his lap it would fix me

you’re cold.

little shivers run through your body, trail down your spine, and all you can do is clench your chattering teeth and dig your nails into the skin of your palms. heavy rain falls down without mercy, going pitter patter as it hits the asphalt — a sudden lightning strike lights up the town, flashing in the reflection of puddles, and all you manage is a weak jolt.

dark clouds blanket the whole sky, not allowing even a sliver of blue to shine through the darkness of the rainy evening. enveloping you, surrounding you, soft earthy scents — wet asphalt, roses blooming to your left and right, bushes with sweet-smelling flora guiding your path. little petals, glistening with droplets and bouncing with the force of the rain.

it’d be comforting, were it not for one simple fact; 

you don’t have an umbrella.

at this point, thirty minutes into your solemn, sniffly walk, you’re absolutely soaked. with only a measly hoodie to cover your body and head, and a tank top sticking to the skin beneath it — you were stupid to think you’d get out of it unscathed. your shoes are ruined, wet soles sticking to the asphalt, two heavy weights carrying you down the familiar street ahead.

you let out a shuddering breath. 

gosh, this was stupid. you knew it was going to rain, but still walked out without a care in the world; despite the weather forecast, despite suguru’s warnings over breakfast, despite all those dark clouds covering the milk-blue sky. you just didn’t think it’d be this bad. you just felt so helpless.

you just couldn’t stay there.

some fresh air, and a bit of space. that was all you needed. just that one sliver of comfort.

so, yeah, maybe you weren’t thinking very clearly when you stormed out. maybe you weren’t thinking nearly enough, not enough to even grab one of the umbrellas hanging off the coatrack. hanging there just for you, the cutest little frog umbrella, one suguru bought for you himself. big, googly eyes, and a big smile. the most perfect shade of green. 

(he put it there just for you.)

maybe you weren’t thinking much at all. maybe you just needed to get away, away from him, away from the frustration on his features. arguments with suguru are few and far between; that fact only adds to the sting of his cold voice, still ringing in your ears. you bite down on your bottom lip again, just to stop it from wobbling so pitifully. blinking rapidly, tears and raindrops clinging to your lashline.

you were just worried. is that so awful? 

(why did he have to be so fucking mean about it?)

a sigh flows from your lips, heavy and defeated, undeniably tired. you hate feeling like this, feeling this bitter, hate feeling like you’ve done something wrong. more than anything, you hate arguing with him — hate the idea of him being angry with you. hate the way his voice turns colder, just a little sharper, an octave lower. he never raises it, never ever, but somehow he still sounds so scary. 

it bothers you. bothers you how sensitive you are, when it comes to him. just that shivering tilt of his voice, coupled with the annoyance in his eyes, and your eyes were already turning glassy. one little sentence, and you were close to breaking out into a sob. because suguru was angry with you, and that alone is enough to make you feel like you’ve done nothing right all your life.

so you left. because that was all you could do. 

sure, the sharp pelting of the rain hurts a little, and the thunder is scary, and you’re awfully cold — but anything is better than having suguru see you burst into tears over such a small argument. you know he’d try to soothe you, know he’d feel guilty. but that just makes it all the more embarrassing. 

(all the more pathetic.)

so you left, rushed out of your own apartment, and before you knew it the storm was rolling in above you. rain and thunder, something to rival the ache in your chest. it still hasn’t been that long, a little over half an hour, and you still haven’t fully calmed down. you still don’t know how to face him. but —

but fuck, it’s cold. and an undeniable part of you yearns to run back into his arms, to make up with him, to hear his voice turn warm and see his eyes go soft. you want him to soothe you so, so badly. like he always does. 

another sigh — more resigned this time — slips from out your lips. your bones feel sore, you’re almost certain you’re going to catch a cold, and it’s getting late. you’re all alone, and it’s raining, and you look vulnerable and helpless. 

you want to go home.

it’ll be awkward, but maybe you can sneak in somehow — without him noticing. then you can go straight to sleep, on the couch, and maybe you’ll feel a little better tomorrow. the two of you can talk it out over breakfast, over warm coffee, and you can tell him what you meant to say without stumbling over what words to use or dancing around the subject like a scared little child.

you’re just too tired to argue anymore.

he just made you feel so stupid. so very, very small. suguru’s been working so hard lately, coming home late, exhausting himself. all you wanted was to make sure he was okay. that, and to coax him into relaxing a bit; maybe take a day off to recharge. that was all.

but he just brushed you off.

and, well, maybe you should’ve backed off after that. maybe you should’ve taken that as a sign that suguru didn’t feel up to answering your questions. but you were just so worried, so pitifully anxious, and you just wanted to help him so, so badly.

suguru is always so dependable. always there to help you, to ground you, to console you. even when you push him away or insist you don’t need it. he can be pushy, when he feels like he needs to, when your health is at risk — and it’s frustrating, but you’ve always appreciated it. you just wanted to return the favour. push him, just a little, to show him how much you care. show him that he can depend on you the way he insists you do with him.

but then he grew frustrated.

”suguru… you’ve been working so much, i’m —” you bite down on your bottom lip. ”i’m just worried that you’re overdoing it.” ”… god. how many times do i have to say it? i know my limits, [name].” ”but — you just look so tired —” ”well, i’m sorry for that.” a cold smile. ”am i not living up to your expectations?”

(that’s not what you meant. he knows that’s not what you meant.)

and it makes you feel frustrated, too. pardon you for being worried. for wanting to be there for him, for once, for wanting to be a supportive partner and not just a burden. 

pardon you for feeling a little lonely, with him coming home so late, leaving so early. with him not giving you the affection you’re so used to, and never confiding in you about his stress.

pardon you for wanting him to trust you, a little, even just a sliver more than not at all.

god, you’re exhausted. you just want to sleep — can’t you have that, at least? just that one thing? you don’t mind sleeping on the couch, don’t mind feeling like a stranger in your own home, as long as you get to rest your eyes. just for a little while. 

your brain spins in circles, bitterness and longing heavy on your tongue, as you grumble over what to do or how to feel — 

while your feet have already begun taking you home. moving almost on their own, on instinct, walking past rose bushes and backyards, the smell of glucose and rotting apples. 

and you’re there before you know it: in front of the familiar door to your shared apartment, soaked from head to toe. still feeling a little lost.

for a second, you hesitate.

maybe he’s still angry. maybe he was happy to get some time away from you. maybe you’re just making things worse by doing this, maybe you should just —

but your fingers have already fished out the key from within your pocket, unlocking the door in one swift motion. moving up to curl around the doorknob, a desperation in your veins guiding you closer to his steady warmth.

and before you have the chance to waver again, you pull the door open and step inside.

you move slowly, gentle and careful, almost cautious. softly closing the door behind you and taking a couple quiet steps forward, only to shrug off your hoodie — heavy, soaking wet and discomforting as you pull it over your head. clumsily, you try to get it off you, squirming when the warm indoors air meets your sweaty tank top. it feels soothing on your bare skin, though, ghosting over your shoulders and collarbone, hoodie now clinging to your elbows.

in the middle of the taxing endeavor, you almost fail to notice the presence of a certain someone, standing just a little farther away. 

almost, because it’d be impossible for you to miss him, that heavy gaze of his.

and before you can think the thought to do anything else, you’ve locked eyes with him — arms still tangled up in the wet sleeves of your hoodie, raindrops and sweat sticking to your skin.

(suguru takes a moment to look at you.)

not daring to say anything, afraid to part your lips, you simply stand there. in silence, like a deer in headlights. for some reason, you can’t really read his expression — you’re a little too tired, a little too caught off guard.

you can only blink, worry surely evident in your furrowed brows, as the seconds tick on and on. tense, tense, tense.

and then he’s walking away again. 

crestfallen. that’s probably the best way to describe how you feel right now, watching him disappear around the corner. dejected, as your eyes fall to the floor, and your posture wilts like a dying rose. you finally shake off your hoodie and watch it fall to the floor with a gross, wet plap.

it hurts. you want to cry. you can’t help it. even though a part of you is still upset, even though a part of you fully expected this to happen… 

another part was still hoping he’d be happy to see you. as if just seeing his smile again might’ve fixed everything.

but he didn’t even give you that.

that’s that, then. there’s nothing you can do except proceed with your original plan. you’ll change into some warm, dry clothes, and go to sleep on the couch like the miserable dog you are. you’ll leave everything troublesome and disheartening for tomorrow’s you to handle. 

for now, you just have to worry about getting some sleep. you don’t have to think about suguru, or his cold voice, or the way he just walked away without saying anything. 

you don’t have to think about him at all. 

(don’t think. don’t think. don’t —)

— the soft patter of footsteps breaks you out of your anxious spiral. they come closer and closer, until a certain silhouette enters your vision out of the corner of your eye.

a certain suguru geto, hair down and cascading past his shoulders, wearing a comfortable sweater and loose sweatpants with a fluffy towel in tow.

once again, you can only blink. a vaguely confused deer in headlights. suguru comes closer and closer, until you can clearly see his eyes, amber gold, full of an emotion you finally manage to identify —

worry.

(ah.)

before you can say anything, he’s draped the towel around you. it feels nice, a soft texture on your skin, big enough to engulf you completely, cocooning you. cozy and snug. you can’t help but melt a little when suguru places his big hand over the towel and smooths it over your cheek, drying off your skin so gently that you feel like crying again.

”are you cold?” he asks, concern evident in his voice. to your immense relief, it sounds nowhere near as scary as before. ”you’re soaked…”

suguru almost seems to be pouting, bottom lip jutting out the slightest bit, eyebrows furrowed softly. still rubbing the raindrops off your skin. he looks awfully troubled, undeniably anxious, and the way he’s caressing your skin feels so earnestly caring. the towel feels warm, like he went the extra mile to heat it up for you.

and, more than anything, the feeling of suguru’s big hands cupping your face is almost heavenly. even though the touch is indirect, you can’t help but bask in his warmth, almost desperate to cling to it after escaping from the harsh cold of the rain. like he could slip away and leave you again if you don’t stay perfectly still, just like this.

it’s soothing. so, so soothing. but it also makes you feel kind of meek.

you sound sheepish when you answer, voice a little hoarse after your grueling walk. throat dry from all the crying. ”nah, ’m fine…”

the words are tiny, fragile like pieces of glass, and they only make suguru’s brows furrow further, pout turning into a soft frown as he gazes down at you.

(he hates how small you look. like you’re curling in on yourself.)

as soon as you left the apartment, a wave of regret washed over him. it was expected, obviously, because that’s what always happens after the two of you argue — which is almost never, which only makes the cut in his heart run deeper. 

he felt frustrated. and tired, so tired. but when he saw your troubled expression, the way your eyes watered slightly before you rushed out…

he could only feel guilty.

and that sensation only deepened as he sat on the couch and spiraled, over the course of forty long minutes, playing the interaction back inside his head. over and over, thinking about your words, his words, some of which he desperately wishes he could take back. 

and when it started raining? suguru could only feel regret, hot and ugly, dragging him into his own thoughts. could only drown in his worries, look out the window anxiously. thinking of you, his sweet baby, stuck under the onslaught of dark clouds and lightning strikes and heavy rain.

(you didn’t bring an umbrella.)

suguru waited. that was all he could do. 

he didn’t think it was possible for him to feel so useless. fighting with himself, the part of him that wanted to give you the space you needed clashing with the part that yearned to run after you — scoop you up and apologize, hold you tight and protect you from the rainfall. you weren’t answering his calls, and he didn’t want to overwhelm you, didn’t want to make you feel even worse. afraid to scare you off for good.

so he could only sit there and worry, sit there and wait, wallow in his own shame until he heard the faintest sound of the front door unlocking. followed by the sound of it creaking open, slowly — and that was all he needed. 

and there you were. standing by the entrance, entirely soaked, tank top sticking to your skin and that flimsy hoodie hanging off your arms, cheeks a little red from the cold and strands of hair sticking to your skin.

like a tiny kitten left out in the rain.

it made him feel so painfully anxious. his heart aching so deeply, so viscerally, while all he could think about was smothering you in affection. taking care of you, like he always wants to do, needs to do to stay sane. so suguru left, to go grab something to dry you off with —

and now he’s here. in front of you, smothering you with the towel rather than his love, fretting over you like an overprotective mother. 

suguru yearns to soothe you. to take care of you. always, always, always, his hands on your skin and lidded amber eyes staring deeply into yours. offering himself like a shelter to a stray dog, hoping so tenderly that you’ll take the bait.

(he just wants you to feel safe with him again.)

so he stumbles for something, anything to say, afraid of overstepping or making you uncomfortable. you did just argue, and suguru was anything but patient with you. usually he would be; he’d make sure to be. but with work piling up, and exhaustion clinging to every pore of his skin…

he failed at maintaining his composure.

he needs to make it up to you. despite everything — even though he feels a little awkward, a little restless, still drowning a little in shame — he just wants to tend to you. that, and nothing more.

”hang on,” he exhales, stepping back and letting go of the towel. ”i’ll go draw you a bath…”

”ah — no need,” you smile, a little forced, swiftly reassuring him. he can tell you don’t really know how to act after everything that happened; still walking on eggshells. ”i’ll just take a quick shower.”

suguru wants to protest, wants to coax you into taking a proper bath, into letting your cold skin and aching bones relax completely —

but he can only hum, a little unsure. a little sad. 

”… okay. got it.”

perplexed, he tries his hand at another tactic. still so desperate to take care of you in whatever way you’ll allow, like always, but he thinks it’s worse now. even more desperate, after the fight you had, after seeing your frail, shivering self. resisting the urge to scoop you up and coddle you is a struggle.

”i can make you tea?” he tries, inwardly wincing at the way the words spill from his lips; uncertain, awkward. what a mess.

but you smile, slightly more genuinely this time, a soft little thing. it soothes some of the anxiety rotting through his ribs.

”tea would be great, thank you.”

you brush past him, warm towel still hanging off your shoulders. ”i’ll just take a shower in the meantime,” you murmur, and suguru can do nothing but nod, watching you go. 

he swallows thickly.

(that’s that, then.)

tea. right. what kind of tea? something warm, and soothing, and good for your throat. chamomile? peppermint? he’ll add a spoon of honey, just the way you like.

suguru’s mind spins in circles while his feet take him to the kitchen, hands swiftly rummaging through cabinets and getting the electric kettle ready. placing teacups and a teapot on the table, cute little floral designs he couldn’t help but fill your kitchen with. pouring hot peppermint tea into the pot, a strong scent drifting through the kitchen, drowning his senses in bliss.

caught up in his own head, losing track of time, suguru fails to notice you walking from the bathroom — stopping by the threshold of the kitchen, hesitant to make your presence known. a few silent moments pass. with a tiny inhale, mint invading your senses, you take a step forward. calm and sleepy, skin still pleasantly hot from the warm shower, hair still a little damp.

only then does suguru notice you, his gaze drifting to your figure as if instinctively drawn to it.

you’re clad in some comfortable sweatpants, and an oversized hoodie — his hoodie, the one with the unreasonably soft texture, the one you tend to gravitate towards — the one he likes to see you in the most, because you always look so thoroughly comfy in it. almost drowning in the fabric. 

seeing you all warm and cozy, in his clothing no less, sends a tremor of pure warmth running through suguru’s chest. sprouting in his heart and spreading throughout his entire body. he can’t bring himself to resist the soft curl of his lips, gazing at you so fondly he’s almost sure you notice it.

”i made peppermint,” he says, a little breathless, already pouring boiling tea into two cups on the table. ”that okay?”

”yeah,” you answer, instantaneous. stifling a yawn. you’d have been fine with anything, really.

the shower worked wonders for your muddled mind; chasing away the shivers down your spine, that unpleasant chill to your skin. most importantly, it gave you a moment to simply relax, to bask in the peace and quiet. feel the hot water surround you, melt your bones like softened clay. you feel a little better, now. still anxious, more than a little sleepy, but better. and right now, that’s all you need. 

with a groggy kind of pep in your step, you stumble over to the kitchen table, plopping down on the chair across from where suguru is sitting. trying to get comfortable, knees pressed against your chest, muttering a soft thank you while gingerly touching the rim of the cup.

(suguru frowns, just barely, at the sight. usually you’d sit right next to him. but now you’re in front of him, so very far — as if you’re strangers.

it breaks his heart, a little bit.)

a soft hum leaves your lips when you take a sip of the tea — all warm and comforting and minty on your tongue, a vague taste of something sweet. it’s relaxing, more than anything, and it makes you feel a little more okay with everything.

suguru only watches you, drinking absentmindedly from his own cup. not really tasting anything.

finally, he opts to clear his throat — and your attention falls on him instantly.

”hey,” he starts, ready to address the elephant in the room. his voice is gentle, but decisive, firm somehow. ”about before…”

your body tenses, ever so slightly, fingers uncurling around the handle of the teacup. there’s a kind of shift in the air around you, in suguru’s tone of voice — and you were expecting it, waiting for it anxiously, but that doesn’t make it any less harrowing.

here it comes, your mind seems to sing. here comes the moment everything shatters again.

with as much strength as you can muster, you smile. a little sheepish, just a tad forced, refusing to meet his eyes from across the table. staring into the murky green of your cup and hoping in vain that you can somehow escape this discomfort. 

(you just want to rest. you just want to not have to think about anything.)

”it’s fine, suguru,” you cut him off. softly, but there’s a certain tilt to your voice that strikes him as rather cold. ”we can just drop it.”

the decision in his eyes doesn’t waver. you look meek, awfully troubled, and he hates to force you into another discussion when you’re undoubtedly tired — but suguru’s mind is set. he’s been evasive enough, today.

”no. i want to talk about it properly.”

at that, you seem to deflate a little. suguru is nothing if not stubborn, a quality that always manages to coexist with his gentleness, his desire to be a good partner for you. you can tell he won’t allow you to wriggle away, now that you’re both finally calm. he’s not doing it to exhaust you, not doing it to gain some sort of satisfaction out of ”winning” the argument — he’s doing it because he knows it’s the right thing to do. even if it makes you both a little uncomfortable.

communication is important, immensely so. suguru knows it very well.

and you do, too.

so all you do is curl into yourself, shifting in your seat, allowing him to speak his mind and sipping quietly on your tea. biting back a disgruntled huff, gaze lingering on the tablecloth, little calico cats etched into the fabric. he wanted one with yellow stripes, but still bought this one just for you. just like the ugly matching couple mugs you forced him into buying, the green colour of your kitchen wallpaper. he always places you before himself.

(all you wanted was to change that. just for a night, if nothing else. and he got mad at you for it.)

suguru sighs. it sounds fatigued, not frustrated or disappointed. he runs a hand through his hair, and you can’t help but follow the movement, the soft silky strands and the way he smooths them over. practiced, familiar, absentminded. you could watch him do it forever.

”i had a lot of time to think while you were gone,” he begins, recalling the mental gymnastics he went through while you were away. just sitting on the couch and running himself ragged, trying to be impartial, trying to see your point of view without letting his own bias get in the way.

you sink a little further into the chair, eyes downcast. inhaling the scent of peppermint, trying to prepare yourself for what he might say, the ways this could all go wrong.

”and i realized that you were right.”

…

you blink. once, then twice.

hesitantly, you raise your head, searching for suguru’s gaze. he isn’t looking at you, staring out at the rainfall through the window as if in deep thought. his gaze shifts to meet yours, and something soft flickers through his golden eyes.

he looks troubled, though. trying to find the right words, mind clouded by guilt. chewing at his bottom lip anxiously.

it takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, to weigh the words in his mind, just to make sure he gets them across as smoothly as possible. he’s had more than enough time to verbalize his feelings, to think about what he wants to say to you. it was all he could do while he waited. 

so his voice is earnest, when he continues, sincerely apologetic and thought out.

”i’m always telling you not to overwork yourself. and here i am, doing the same thing…” another sigh. ”you were just worried. i shouldn’t have lashed out — you didn’t deserve that.”

suguru searches for your gaze, and manages to find it. you falter a little under the weight of his eyes, but they’re warm, remorseful. a setting sun.

”i’m sorry.”

a moment of silence passes. then two. three, five. you look down at your cup, the purple hyacinths etched into the porcelain. crumbling under his gaze, at the sound of his genuine apology. 

and suddenly, you feel silly — silly for being so scared, for thinking suguru might still be angry with you. for thinking he wouldn’t spend as much time as needed to properly think about your words, your feelings, even if he might not have been ready to do so when he first heard them.

suguru can be stubborn, if he’s convinced that he’s in the right. but he always, always seeks you out eventually, always makes sure to genuinely look at things from your perspective. 

and, really, it means everything. it means enough to wash away all your leftover irritation, from having him brush you off when you know you didn’t do anything wrong. all the leftover sadness from being pushed away, from not being allowed to take care of him the way he always does for you.

suguru isn’t perfect, but he tries harder than anyone you know. tries his very best to be as close to perfect as he can possibly get — for you, for the both of you. he’s considerate enough, mature enough to take the time he needs to properly communicate. that’s how much he loves you. 

and yes, doing so makes you a little uncomfortable. but when faced with something like that, someone so kind, who loves you like the rain loves the ground — how could you ever bear not to do the same?

”… it’s fine,” you start, softly. ”maybe i overreacted a bit. ’s just —” a gulp. you’re trying your best to verbalize your feelings, the way suguru just did, the way he always does.

and he waits, patiently. for as long as you need. looking at you from across the table softly, already immensely relieved at the lack of tension in the air.

”i don’t like seeing you so tired. i know that your work is important, and i support you, but…” your voice goes quiet, as you trail off, hoping he’ll understand what you mean. ”you know.”

and suguru does. he does understand, he always will. so he hums.

”i know,” he murmurs, softly. ”it wasn’t an overreaction. i just didn’t realize it myself. got too caught up in everything,” a sharp exhale leaves his lips. ”it’s been… a long week. i’m not using that as an excuse, though.”

you listen attentively, eyes softening at his words. you can tell that he means it, that you finally got your message across. all you wanted was for him to take a break, to take care of himself.

to let you take care of him.

suguru continues. he makes it a point to look into your eyes as he speaks — a little intimidating, especially in a situation like this — but you know it reassures him, that it lets him know you really understand what he’s trying to say. 

so you hold his gaze, as steady as you can, glancing down at his collarbone when it becomes just a little too much.

”i’m grateful that i have you,” he says, voice dripping with softness, gazing at you with a fondness that has you crumbling all over again. ”and that you care enough to set me straight when i need it.”

and suguru means it. he means it more than anything else. not once has he ever stopped appreciating you, all the things you do for him; always so sweet and caring, even when it’s subtle. this was no exception. you’re always worried, always looking out for him. he feels awful for getting so defensive. for pushing you away, when you were trying so earnestly to reach him.

but he’ll make up for all of that, starting now.

”i mean it. i appreciate you so much, you have no idea — i’m so sorry if i made you think otherwise.” for a moment, his eyes look a little glassy, swimming in remorse. ”i really, really am.”

(and when he looks at you like that, when he speaks so very gently —

how could you ever bear not to forgive him?)

you shift in your seat again. gazing down, chewing at your bottom lip. his honesty makes you falter, makes it hard for you not to do the same; even if your voice ends up sounding awfully tiny and awfully close to breaking apart. 

”… i was just worried,” you mumble, meekly, shooing away any tears you have left with rapid blinks. 

”i know,” suguru soothes. the smile on his face is genuine, comforting, honey and peppermint and warmth. ”i was being immature. you were right — i’ve been burning myself out.”

you don’t say anything. only letting his words console you, feeling yourself relax at the sound of him opening up a little. just enough to make everything all better again.

”i was thinking of taking tomorrow off,” he continues, searching for your timid gaze and smiling gently once he finds it. ”what do you say?”

you brighten a little, so obvious in the way you sit up straighter, the way something soft and hopeful blossoms in the scope of your iris. the sight coaxes suguru’s patient smile into widening a smidge, his eyes crinkling at your barely contained excitement.

”that’d be nice…” you murmur, averting your gaze once more. but suguru can tell you like the sound of that, that it’s exactly what would finally put your anxious mind at ease.

a smile, bright and fond. suguru opens his arms. 

”then i will.”

for a moment, you simply stare. at him, his outstretched limbs — that soft smile, as he waits for you to get the hint. and you blink. 

oh. 

you look down at your lap. a little sheepish, almost shy. it takes you another moment to raise your head, again, only to see another gentle flicker in suguru’s eyes — and then you finally get up from your seat.

it feels a little strange. a little awkward, as if some of your bones still can’t help but tread on eggshells, afraid of making him upset again. but it’s suguru, and he loves you, and his arms are waiting patiently to hold you.

and you want that more than anything. 

so you fall into his arms, softly, curling up in his lap and wrapping your arms around his waist. suguru has one hand on the back of your head and the other on the small of your back, rubbing comforting circles into your spine to make you relax.

it works wonders. despite your initial hesitance, you melt into the embrace without putting up a fuss — happy to be in his arms again, to feel the anxiety dissipate when you realize that everything’s finally alright.

and suguru is just as happy, just as content. breathing out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding. he strokes your hair lovingly, and you nuzzle into him a little more; making his lips quirk up, eyes filling with adoration. finally, he can relax. having you in his arms feels so soothing. and you’re so sweet, curling into him, seeking comfort and warmth that he’s more than happy to provide.

how long has it been since he had a chance to hold you like this? he made sure to be affectionate whenever he could, before leaving for work and after coming back — but in the midst of all the paperwork and stress…

suguru sighs, a little sadder this time, watching you bask in the attention he had been robbing you of this whole time. without even realizing it.

”and i’m sorry for neglecting you, too,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. muffled by your hair as he presses a kiss against the crown of your head.

that certainly gets your attention.

”neglecting me?” you sputter, eyes suddenly wide open and lips parted in disbelief. flustered, heat rushing to your neck and ears. ”wha — what am i, some high-maintenance puppy? you didn’t neglect me.”

suguru only chuckles, biting back a soft coo that he knows would only fluster you more. instead, he pulls away a little, just to look at you, and pecks your forehead softly.

”well, i’m sorry for not being around much, then. i’ll make it up to you. okay?”

hiding away in his collarbone, again, you mutter a soft okay that has suguru’s heart squeezing in his chest. he cradles you close, engulfs you in his embrace, and hopes you can feel his love through the action. hopes you can feel it in the way his arms fit around you like they were always meant to be right there.

and you do feel his love. feel it smooth away the leftover turmoil in your brain, caress your skin softly. it’s soothing, and comforting, and you feel so incredibly safe. here, in suguru’s embrace, with the sound of rain hitting the window and the scent of peppermint wafting through the kitchen — it’d be impossible not to relax.

before you know it, your eyelids have fluttered shut, breathing softening out and heartbeat slowing down. a peaceful rhythm, carrying you away. suguru notices it before you do.

”you sleeping, baby?”

you jolt a little in his arms — murmuring something unintelligible into his neck, and he only chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest like a soothing thunderstorm.

”c’mon. let’s get you to bed, hm?” 

suguru smooths a hand down your back, arms tightening around you before he scoops you up and gets up from his seat. ”there we go,” he hums, helping you hike your legs around his waist. ”you can sleep, angel. i’ve got you.”

your arms tighten around him, and you inhale his scent; grounding and comforting, raindrops and roses. tomorrow you can bask in it properly, can take care of him properly. you’ll coddle him all day.

but for now, you need to get some rest.

allowing your senses to dull away, clinging to suguru like a makeshift pillow, you absently listen to the storm still raging on outside. faraway, cold and harsh, but comforting when you’re in his steady grasp.

a yawn escapes your honey-soothed throat.

you don’t miss the i love you murmured into your ear, accompanying you into dreamland as your eyes flutter shut.