ill-gottenbooty

[hajimesh]

uncle yuuji. ryomen sukuna

fluff. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ parents au, non curse au, family fluff, teen!choso and five-year-old yuuji cameo, two unnamed three-year-old twins (boy and girl)

little sunshines au

"nice house, uncle 'kuna."

little yuuji looks impressed, raising his eyebrows in approval while walking past the threshold and towards the living room as if he were the owner of the place. his little ohh's and woah's already have sukuna's patience thinning out—fast.

with an unpleased grunt, he places a generous amount of cash on choso's hand. you're out with friends, and he's supposed to meet up with toji in twenty minutes, so his only option was to get the teenager to babysit the twins.

"keep the brat outta trouble."

upon hearing his uncle's warning, yuuji's attitude immediately switches back to a childish one, pouting and tugging at his brother's shirt. he's ready to throw a tantrum, but the thought fizzles out as soon as he catches sight of the twins in their playpen.

"hello, baby!" he leans down to hug your daughter, patting her back twice before switching to your son. "hi, baby! uncle yuuji is gonna play with you."

"kid, you're the same age as them. you're not their uncle."

"nuh-uh! I'm five!" he extends his chubby fingers at sukuna, showing five little fingers, "I'm gwon up."

sukuna scoffs, scrunching down to lift his babies up, one in each arm. and the sight seems to upset his nephew.

"you have two babies. s'not fair." he pouts, but a thought quickly pops in his head. "gimmie one?"

"no."

"why not?"

"'cause they're mine."

sukuna's smile is smug, bouncing his toddlers softly before planting a loud smooch on his daughter's cheek.

there's a pregnant silence that makes choso uneasy. looking worriedly at his baby brother, he sighs as he sees his bottom lip starting to quiver.

"yuu–" he tries to stop the waterworks, but he's immediately interrupted.

"meanie!"

it takes sukuna and choso half an hour to get little yuuji to stop crying and unlock himself out of the toddlers' room.

sukuna never makes it out of the house.

[skibeegames]

Sul Sul <3

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Hi, my name is Skye (She/her) and I am new to posting on Simblr but have been on Simblr quite a while and have been on Tumblr for a decade.

I recently turned 23 and am from the UK, I started playing the sims when I was a little kid and my love started with the Sims 2. I have been playing Sims 4 on and off since it came out but have been playing more consistently since 2021 when I got my first gaming laptop and started cozy gaming.

Here is my Simself:

I now play on PC so I have a very heavily edited game. I love taking screenshots of my sims and using different reshade presets to give off different vibes, so I am very excited to share those pictures.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

In terms of myself I like cottagecore and grandmacore things a lot and I like everything cosy obviously. I am also a content creator and I post cosy gaming content but it is predominantly Sims and Disney Dreamlight Valley but I like other games such as Palia and Coral Island and Animal Crossing. In my free time I also like games like Fortnite and horror/survival games.

Here is my Simself youtube video, if you're interested:

Like stated in my bio, I will predominantly be posting storytelling for my legacy families, building (which I love doing the most) and CAS.

I would very much appreciate any reblogs or likes and I can't wait to find mutuals on here and to see everyone's pretty posts . I hope you enjoy my future Simblr posts. I will be aiming to post at least once or twice a day.

You can mainly find me on tiktok, youtube and instagram and pinterest, any other socials are on my blog but all under the name @ skibeegames <3

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

[hajimesh]

kiss it better. gojo satoru

fluff. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ parents au, dad!gojo + mom!reader, slice of life, two unnamed sons aged 5 and 2, mentions of injury but nothing serious.

little sunshines au

parenthood with satoru is pretty easy—for the most part. even with two toddlers running all over the gojo estate, him behind their little heels, and being the reason for their squeals and giggles.

he's the playful and doting father, unless his wife's safety is compromised.

you couldn't erase the wide-eyed looks of your two sons from your mind. their usually cheeky grins pulled down into pouts as they sniffled.

"baby, talk to me. can you move your leg?"

their cries were cut off as satoru slammed the door of your bedroom in their scared little faces, hovering around you frantically after placing you down on the mattress, all while checking your injured leg.

"don't shut them off," you ignored his question and immediately tried to sit up, only to feel your knee throb in pain. but even with distress all over your face, you scolded your fretting husband. "they're scared, let them in."

so when the door opened and revealed their tearful eyes, the two boys quickly ran towards you, tiny arms wrapping tightly around you while hiding their faces in your neck.

"it's just an ouchie." the gentle words of reassurance from you quickly got their attention.

big, curious eyes stared at you as the sniffles subsided, satoru took this as an opportunity to wipe the snot from their faces.

your oldest was first to speak after his dad helped him blow his nose, "we can kiss it better."

with an eager nod and a wobbly pout, the youngest gojo agreed with his brother, looking adorably alike to his father.

satoru remained silent, feeling shame for how he had acted. in his defense, his heart dropped when he saw his dear wife fall to the ground with a scream of pain—all because of a lego.

the two boys kissed your cheeks and waited, watching for any signs of your ouchie being nursed back to health. so, with an exaggerated gasp, you brought them closer and squeezed them in your arms.

"oh my gosh, I'm healed! it doesn't hurt anymore!"

satoru found himself deflating against the wall, watching his little family fondly. he could see the purple bruise forming on your knee, and still, you showered your babies with kisses. his heart jumped when your hand reached out to his, calling him towards the family hug.

"I should've caught you."

the ghost of his lips against your neck felt soothing, the weight of the three gojo boys on top of yours a reminder of how fortunate your life is—to be blessed with a loving husband and two healthy sons.

with tender caresses to the back of his head, you hoped to ease your husband's guilt. "like I said, it's just an ouchie."

but when that didn't seem to work, his pouty lips turning into a frown, you turned to your sons.

"and my sweet babies already healed it. right, nuggets?"

"yes, mama." once again, your oldest was quick to reply, nodding vehemently at his sulking dad. "papa, we healed mama. okay?"

"ouchie, buh-bye!"

[hajimesh]

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐to love and to cherish. gojo satoru

walking down the aisle proves to be the hardest thing to do when your future husband won't stop crying his pretty eyes out.

fluff. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ wedding au (based on catholic weddings), fem!reader, best man!suguru, so much fluff and love i made myself cry. everyone is happy!

word c. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ less than 500

𝄢♭completely ‐ jaehyun

sunlight seems to beam back from every corner. white hydrangeas and roses allow the natural light to reflect all over the venue, casting a dreamy glow that makes your throat tight with emotion.

it surely must be heaven.

and heaven itself gleams right before your eyes, with satoru waiting for you to join him.

the blue of his eyes is replaced with an almost translucent shade whenever it catches the light, and the redness surrounding them only amplifies its beauty.

hushed whispers and gasps can be heard as soon as you're into everyone's line of vision—and satoru immediately breaks down in tears.

your own heart squeezes at the sight, laughter and tears bubbling up easily when suguru is forced to throw an arm over the sobbing groom, preventing him from running straight to your arms.

"don't you dare," even with his kind smile, suguru's tone is nothing but threatening, "let your wife shine, it's her moment."

and that's pretty much all it takes to get satoru to stay by the altar. it doesn't mean he won't pout about it, though.

the deep rumble of the cello accompanies your way down the aisle, and with each step forward, more pairs of eyes land on your figure in awe. warmth and ease drape over your senses like a throw blanket, drowning the sense of doom under its fabric. but no matter how much you wish to greet each one of the guests, their eyes meeting yours with matching excitement, your gaze bounces back to satoru's stubbornly, already aching to be by his side.

you know you're smiling—and crying—but so is he. your grip on the bouquet is tight, just like the invisible string drawing you towards satoru, your fingers itching to wipe the tears running down his cheeks.

I love you.

a chocked up mix of a laugh and a sob gets stuck in your throat as he mouths the words at you through the brightest grin you've ever seen from him, and all you can think is: how dare he.

it's almost too silent yet so loud, every shaky breath and sniffle loud and clear against the silence of the guests. a melancholic piano joins the cello, and your heart is suddenly at your throat, finally within satoru's reach which means that his hands immediately seek to hold yours. the rustle of your dress against his suit, his hushed cries muffled against the skin of your forehead mixed with endless declarations of his love—it's too much and yet it's utterly perfect.

"I love you, I love you," with eyes closed, satoru breathes you in under the gazes of every guest, witnesses of the adoration and yearning of the young couple that's only minutes away from being joined in matrimony.

behind the veil, a fleeting moment of private intimacy between bride and groom takes place, just for them and the universe to know and that will be cherished for years to come.

"my gorgeous bride."

[hajimesh]

something's fishy. gojo satoru

fluff. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ parents au, non sorcerer au, family fluff, unnamed gojo sons, baby talk with a little lisp cuz they're babies <3

little sunshines au

"let's see if we got somethin'!"

your five-year-old grins excitedly at you, tugging at the rope attached to the perch trap. the sun is bright, and the waters of the lake are pretty calm, making it a perfect day for your two sons to see the fishes.

with your phone in hand, you make sure your husband can watch this too through the videocall, his smile matching your son's as he encourages him.

"hurry up, mochi! did you catch any fishies?"

you flip the camera, so now you and your toddler are in frame, your hand resting on his tummy to make sure he doesn't run off to the edge of the dock.

"say hi to papa."

the bright blue eyes of your toddler watch satoru through the screen and your husband beams at the sight of his cheek squished against yours.

"hi, baby." his little fingers wiggle at his dad through the screen. ever since he picked up on your husband calling you that, he's been saying it back at him. "fishie."

satoru coos at his two-year-old, wanting so badly to munch on his chubby cheeks. he fell victim to cuteness aggression as soon as the first baby was born.

the excited gasp of your other son brings all three pairs of eyes back to him, "I got one!"

flipping the camera back at him, you tell him to show off the fish to his dad.

"woahhh, that one's giant!" satoru is quick to praise him, giving a thumbs up through the screen, "good job, mochi. that's my boy!"

the toddler squirms out of your grasp and joins his brother, wanting to see the fish as well.

"gimmie fishie." he demands, but only half a second goes by before his eyes widen, looking back at you in slight fear before adding, "pwease."

you and satoru observe the two boys as they marvel at the fish in their hands, your toddler cradling it close to his chest, and you can't help but wince—his shirt is definitely going to smell.

"you wanna thwow it in?"

his brother asks him, and a little nod is all you get before he's letting it fall from his little fingers and onto the water without a second thought.

"buh-bye fishie, mwah."

you watch, in horror, as your toddler sends a flying kiss to the fish with the same hand that held it.

"o-kaaaay... time for a bath."

[hajimesh]

₊˚ʚ 🌱 little sunshines au. masterlist

a jjk au where domestic fluff and parenthood are the main tropes.

fluff‐parents au. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ non sorcerer/curse au, domesticity, use of nicknames for the babies (nugget, mochi, squirt), mom!reader, mentions of pregnancy

all kids remain unnamed, apart from the already existing ones

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐ɢᴏᴊᴏ sᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ

head of the gojo clan. after retiring from teaching, he took his wife and locked the two of them inside his estate. you ended up popping three healthy babies in the span of five years.

notes:

his precious mochi consist of two boys, aged 5 and 2 years old, and an eight month old baby girl—the three of them look like satoru

the two boys are huge fans of 'fishies'

kiss it better

something's fishy

—

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐ɢᴇᴛᴏ sᴜɢᴜʀᴜ

the geto residence had been nothing but a girly sanctuary for the past few years. suguru, as the only man, faced a harsh reality check when the latest addition to his family, a baby boy, stole the hearts of every girl in his home.

notes:

suguru is so used to handling girls that he's still a bit lost with his little boy

the baby wants you all the time, and suguru is a little sad that he's not being favored

joyride

—

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐ғᴜsʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ ᴛᴏᴊɪ

his biggest nightmare came true once his baby girl began to talk. she keeps him on his toes, a little princess that easily empties her daddy's wallet by asking for toys—expensive ones.

notes:

your baby girl wants to do everything you do: hair, makeup, nails. toji grows a gray hair each time she demands to get her tiny toes painted like mama

tsumiki (6) likes to say that the baby (2) is her doll, and little megumi (4) makes sure his puppies watch over his baby sister while she naps

strawberry shortcake

—

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐ʀʏᴏᴍᴇɴ sᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ

his home has not known peace ever since his wife gave birth to their twins, a boy and a girl. he barely made it out of the 'terrible twos' unscathed, but now that they're three and way more talkative, he's starting to reconsider his life decisions.

notes:

the boy is a menace, always play fighting with his dad, while the girl is shy and cries around him

both toddlers get pretty calm and soft around you. sukuna says you hexed them

uncle yuuji

[hajimesh]

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐skyfall. geto suguru

part one. sunrise (her)

⥅ word c. 4,411

⥅ warnings. fem!reader, non sorcerer au (suguru is a grad student), established relationship (suguru and reader live together), mentions of drinking and smoking, domestic fluff, unreliable narrator

𝄢♭bloom ‐ the paper kites / not about angels ‐ birdy / beautiful baby ‐ elizabeth

Before meeting Suguru, you never understood the hype behind sunsets. People often label them as 'majestic' and take endless pictures of the same orange sky when it should be general knowledge that the real beauty resides within the quiet mornings, the world stirring awake and the sky tinting itself in soft hues of blue and pink like a Monet painting. No sunset could ever compare to the crisp and refreshing air that comes with the break of dawn. 

So, if someone were to ask you, you’d pick sunrises in a heartbeat.

Perhaps what makes sunrises better is that you get to see him and his dark hair —that puts the night sky itself to shame— as soon as you wake up, walking down the street with his characteristic hunched over frame as he kicks the rocks standing in his way. He hasn't seen you (which is rare, he's always trying to catch your attention as soon as he rounds the corner of your street), sitting by the open window just two floors above him. But when he finally does, purple eyes stare blankly at you.

"Who–" You watch him squint his eyes, stopping abruptly, and your grin only grows. It takes him two ragged breaths and a gasp to finally address you by your name, "what are you doing up there?"

You wave at him as you lean over the windowsill. He can't be serious, you think to yourself, "I live here, Suguru."

He seems tired, rubbing at his eyes before rushing to the building’s entrance and disappearing from your sight. It wouldn't be a surprise if he had a rough night, suddenly making you feel bad for not making sure you had a warm cup of coffee to welcome him back.

The apartment door opens and Suguru's silhouette slips through, his keys hitting loudly the porcelain bowl by the entrance. You don't even have to think twice, standing up from your spot by the window and meeting him halfway in what has to be the tightest hug you have ever gotten from him.

“Fuck, I missed you.”

He's nuzzling his face against your neck, breathing in the fresh scent of your body wash and leaving a kiss on your skin. His hold on you is so tight yet comforting, just as the silence of the world at six in the morning.

“I know,” your fingers thread through his hair, realizing it's longer than you remembered, “would you like to sleep now or have breakfast first?”

“Cuddles.”

You roll your eyes and tug the hairs at the nape of his head softly, “That wasn’t an option.”

Still in his arms, he guides you towards the bed placed at the corner of the apartment, and once you're under the covers, it's you who now hides your face in his neck.

“Why are you still up?” he asks with his lips against the crown of your hair.

For a moment, you choose to focus on his warm breath caressing your skin. If you tell him you were waiting for him, it's very likely that you’ll end up being scolded.

Shrugging, you nuzzle closer to his chest, seeking more of his warmth, “couldn’t sleep without you.”

“Is your insomnia back?”

“Think so,” you mumble, “but I got to greet you back, so I don't mind.”

It's silent for a while, the only sounds coming from your breaths and the noise of cars driving down the street. The world is slowly waking up, clouds that resemble cotton candy floating in the sky and a light, chill breeze coming through the open window.

“Sugu, you should sleep.”

“I will,” he breathes out, his hold on you tightening for a moment, “now that I have you in my arms.”

“Oh my god, that was so cheesy!”

His chest reverberates with his laugh, lips tugging upwards as he sweeps his tongue across his teeth in a cheeky way. There's no way your heart can watch and not melt as he does that. 

“You never complained before," he tries to defend himself, his smirk coming back as he leans closer to whisper in your ear, "and I know you love it.”

You look up at him, eyes gleaming under the sunlight, and you swear you haven't felt this happy in weeks, “I love you.”

A mix of emotions seems to swirl in his eyes, staring back at yours weirdly. It's hard to pinpoint what's going through his mind, but you can tell that whatever it is, it's troubling him.

“I love you so much more.”

—

It's almost eight pm, and Suguru hasn't woken up.

“Sugu,” you whisper, leaning closer to his face as you search for a sign of consciousness, “you’ll be late.”

“Babe, c’mon… five more minutes?” he groans, voice throaty and laced with sleep.

“We've been sleeping all day!”

His arms circle your waist, pulling you on top of him, “s’all your fault, I was dreaming of you,” he mumbles with his eyes still closed.

“How is that my fault?” you bite back, but when you don't hear a reply from him, you lift your head and rest your chin on his chest.

He fell asleep again.

Removing yourself from his hold, you crawl on top of him until you're so close that your lips brush against his. 

“You'll be late for work,” you start littering kisses all over his jaw and watch as his brows furrow slightly, “I shouldn’t have let you nap after we had lunch.”

Still half asleep, he cups your face between his hands and pulls you down for a kiss. It's lazy and a bit clumsy, you blame it on the fact that he just woke up. But after getting a taste of him, you're tempted to ask him to stay.

With his hands still at the sides of your face, he pulls your mouths apart and gazes lovingly at your face, brushing a few strands of hair away from it. Suguru's eyes always make your knees falter, and your heart tremble, especially when they focus on yours.

“How did you sleep?” he asks before squinting his eyes at you, “wait– did you even sleep?”

“Yeah, yeah, I did. No need to start nagging at me.”

He yawns, stretching his arms above his head while you climb off of him, “I need to shower.”

“Yeah, you stink,” you fake a gag only to squeal a second later when he pinches your sides.

Finally, he gets on his feet, and you watch your boyfriend get closer to you. Sometimes you forget how imposing his presence can be, his height and large frame suddenly making you feel small under his stare.

“Shower with me,” he rasps out in your ear, hands grabbing you by your hips as he begins to nip at your neck. 

“O-Oh?” with a raised eyebrow and warm cheeks, you nod bashfully and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, “lead the way.”

The sound of your giggles fills the small apartment as he carries you bridal style towards the bathroom, his own laugh joining yours.

—

“Don’t forget your wallet!”

He's running late, just as you predicted. 

With his hair still damp from the shower, he runs from one side to the other collecting his stuff, “what would I do without you?”

Shaking your head, you watch as he finally makes his way to the door and picks up his coat.

“Work hard! I'll be waiting for you.”

Suguru stops abruptly, his hand already on the doorknob as he grimaces, “I should probably tell you not to, but… ugh fuck it, I’ll be selfish.”

He leans forward to kiss you, his free hand holding you by the back of your neck as the other remains on the door knob. Unfortunately, the kiss ends as quickly as it began.

In your daze, you barely have a chance to smile back at him as he waves goodbye.

“See you at sunrise!”

“Again? ”

You grimace when Suguru’s loud voice disrupts the peaceful morning. It’s still pretty early, the streets empty and void of other souls besides nature blooming around you, waking up to another spring morning. 

But besides the white cat climbing down the roof and the trail of ants on the wall, it’s just you and him.

Your heart warms up in familiar delight, and you wonder if there will ever be a day in which your chest won’t feel like expanding and shrinking at the same time just at the sight of his handsome smile. A small fit of giggles escapes you as you shake your head disapprovingly, a finger placed on your lips signaling him to be quiet.

“Again.”

Blowing him a kiss from your spot, you snicker as you watch his grin widen, his long legs moving faster towards the building. Good thing he seems as eager as you are, you’ve always hated how long it takes him to reach the front door of your apartment.

As soon as he gets inside, he comes face to face with you and immediately goes for your lips, both mouths meeting in a soft kiss as you stand at the door.

Your surroundings seem to blur around you, his scent invading your mind and his touch melting your skin. The emotions stirring in you are so strong that almost have you in tears. It’s becoming too much, and yet you refuse to part from his lips, knowing that it would only make room for the emptiness again.

A soft sigh escapes your lips, eyelashes fluttering as you slowly open your eyes and gaze at him, his tender gaze already fixed on you.

“I smell food,” he murmurs against your lips, pecking your nose afterward, “waffles?”

Humming, you bury your face in his chest, allowing his warmth to envelop you, “you probably haven’t had a decent meal in weeks.”

His hand rubs circles on your back as he chuckles. You really don’t want to let go of him, but the food’s growing cold. So, against your will, you squirm away from his grasp and start dragging him by his hand.

The kitchen is just a few steps away, a small white table sitting in the center with a fake succulent on it, and two plates full of freshly cooked food. It took you a quick trip to the grocery store since there only seemed to be pizza leftovers in the fridge (quite unusual of him, you’re actually planning on asking him about it later).

“What do you think?”

His eyebrows raise slightly and his mouth parts in quiet awe, his purple irises shining with hues of amber thanks to the sunlight filtering through the window. Those same eyes suddenly switch from the food to your face, and your knees falter, there’s a glee in them that you haven’t seen in a long time, and it fills your insides with butterflies until they threaten to spill out of your mouth.

“I fucking love you. You know that, right?” he says after cupping your face in his hands, his gaze unwavering and refusing to look away from you.

The laugh that bubbles in your chest only makes his grin widen, raw adoration and happiness emanating from the both of you. You leave a light peck of affection on his jaw and then push him toward his seat.

“You’re gonna love me even more once you taste it.”

“Impossible.”

The dumb smile refuses to leave your lips, your cheeks hurting and muscles cramping, but that’s Suguru’s effect on you: his mere presence is enough to make you smile in a love struck daze.

He groans after taking the first bite, “this,” he says after swallowing, pointing at the half-eaten waffle with his fork, “tastes heavenly. I missed your cooking so much, baby.”

Taking the compliment with a bashful smile, you choose to focus on your food and begin to eat as well. 

“I noticed you’re walking to work now. Did something happen to your car?” you ask trying to start some small talk and at the same time, it was one of the many questions you have sitting at the back of your mind.

“I'm trying this new thing called being eco-friendly.”

A loud gasp leaves your throat, “You’re such a hypocrite! If you cared about that, you wouldn’t ask for straws at restaurants!”

“Hey,” he points a finger at you, “that’s for the turtles, not the planet.”

“Huh? Even worse?!”

The amusement in his features only enhances his attractive looks, even if it’s so early in the morning and right after having a night shift, he always manages to remind you what a handsome man he is. You huff and pout involuntarily, it truly isn’t fair.

“Relax, I use the metal straws you gave me,” he reaches out across the table to pinch your cheek, “I'm not that evil.”

Still with a slight pout on your lips, you stand up and go to the fridge in order to fill your drinks. 

“Could you pass me a Red Bull?” he calls from behind you, and you frown.

“Suguru, it’s seven in the morning.”

He hums, “Yeah, and I don’t want to fall asleep during my 9 am lecture.”

“Then drink cold water,” you offer, closing the door of the fridge after fetching the jar of juice for you and filling his glass with water, “you’ll get an arrhythmia one of these days.”

You see him sigh once he sees you return with no sight of a Red Bull in your hands, but you aren’t backing down. With a pointed look, you silently stand your ground until he seems to give up.

“Fine, no energy drinks.” 

You nod, relieved that he’s finally listening to you. God, when did he become that stubborn? 

He takes a sip of his water, a tiny smirk stretching his lips around the rim of the glass as he stares at you, “I’ll just buy a coffee on my way to class, then.”

“Suguru!”

“What?”

—

Watching Suguru sleep has always comforted you. A dreamy sigh leaves your lips as you observe the way his dark eyelashes rest above his cheekbones, hiding those beautiful eyes you fell in love with just a few years ago.

It hasn’t been long since you woke up, the room dark and barely illuminated by the setting sun. The shadows of the trees dance all over the walls as they sway thanks to the wind, a low whistle coming from the windows as the wind picks on its strength and clashes against the glass.

You don’t think it can get any more peaceful than that.

In a matter of minutes, the sky begins to turn darker, which means he has to be up soon so he can make it to work on time. Moving closer to his side, you peck his cheek and whisper a soft ‘hi’ once you feel his arm drape over your waist.

“Hello, pretty girl,” his voice is hoarse and heavy with sleep, a lazy smirk gracing his lips. That is until he notices the pendant hanging from your neck, “where did you find that?” 

Your hand automatically wraps around it, smiling to yourself as you look down to examine it, “Oh! It was in your drawer. So weird because I thought I had it with me.”

“You must’ve left it.”

His tone turns dry, which makes you look up from your chest and notice the distant look in his eyes, immediately confusing you. Weird, he seemed fine just seconds ago?

“Do you remember when you gave it to me?” you shuffle closer, wanting to keep at bay whatever thoughts he’s having since it’s clear they aren’t pleasant, “honestly, I still had my doubts about you… back then, I mean.”

“Why?” His lips turn into the cutest pout you’ve ever seen, and it almost makes you lose your train of thought.

How is he so cute? You think to yourself. Even after three years since you met, all it takes is a smile from him, and you’re putty in his hands.

“I never thought you’d like me back, and I was waiting for someone to tell me it was a bet or a dream.”

And it had truly felt like one. As silly as it sounded, it all seemed too good to be true, which meant you were bound to have your doubts. The good morning texts, walking to class together, and spending hours in his dorm studying for your exams; Suguru behaved like a true gentleman, through and through.

Falling in love with him has to be the easiest thing you've ever done. He captured your heart in a matter of weeks, and a year later, on your first anniversary, clasped a necklace around your neck—giving you a piece of him to carry with you.

He caresses your cheek lovingly, bringing you back from the lovely memories before speaking, “I know I was a broke college student, but I wasn't that broke to make our relationship a bet.”

You quickly stand up to pick up a pillow and throw it at him, laughing as he scrunches up his face before he receives the hit. 

“Asshole.”

Suguru laughs and watches you walk away once he removes the pillow from his head, answering back with that sweet voice of his, “sweetheart.”

“We should do something special,” you say as you turn your head over your shoulder to look at him, the last rays of sun hitting your body and casting an ethereal glow around you, “our anniversary is coming up.”

He seems to be in a daze for a second, his stare fixed on you and an emotion you had yet to see from him brimming from his eyes.

“Yeah, we should.”

“Alright,” Suguru looks so funny with his hands on his hips while standing in the middle of the empty street, “as much as I love coming home to you waiting for me, you need to get some sleep.”

You dismiss his comment with a wave of your hand, focusing instead on the hues of blue shining behind him.

“Whatever.”

Less than two minutes later, he’s finally in your arms, his embrace tight as he rocks your bodies softly to the tune of your morning playlist.

“If I'm asleep, I can't give you your good morning kiss, y’know?”

He’s getting tired of your excuses, and it’s so easy to tell by the way he no longer fights you. However, that doesn't stop him from punishing you for it. 

Your vision turns upside down as he throws you over his shoulder and carries you to bed, blatantly ignoring your complaints.

“I think it’s time I tell you the story of a woman that refused to sleep at night,” he settles you under the covers, his arm resting under your neck while the other pinches your cheek, “so the devil himself came to visit her.”

“Suguru…” you trail off, a sense of dread quickly creeping over you, “don’t.”

Ignoring you, he continues, “she liked to sit by the window–”

“Noooo, stop! I'll sleep, I promise!”

“Don’t be rude and stop interrupting me,” he squishes your cheeks together and stares at you with fake anger, “also, I don't believe you anymore.”

There's nothing else for you to do but pout, knowing he's going to use your fear of ghosts to his advantage.

“As I was saying, she sat by the window until one night a group of people stopped by. They gave her a box and told her to keep it, and that they’d come back for it the next day.”

By now, you have your face tucked against his arm, hiding half of it, while the blanket covers your ears.

“However, in the morning, she opened the box and found a dead cat,” he doesn’t even need a dramatic pause to have you gasping in surprise, a cold chill running all over your body, “a priest told her that the dead were trying to curse her since she was disrupting their time to roam the living world, so he advised her to get a living cat in the box and return it.”

Where does Suguru get all his crazy stories? You have no idea. But this one took the ball out of the park.

His face is still serious as he finishes the story, “they showed up that night, three in the morning sharp, and asked for the box. She returned it with the cat inside, and luckily they left her alone.” his tone quickly switches to a chirpy one and smiles, “that’s why you should sleep at night!”

“Suguru, you’re so mean,” you whine, “what if they show up? You know I like staying up at night!

“Not my problem.”

A slap to his shoulder with your hand comes as an immediate response.

“Ow! Who’s being mean now?” he rubs the spot you hit, but he’s so close to losing it, his eyes crinkling as he tries not to laugh.

“You asked for it,” you reply in a low mumble, and he finally gives in to the hilariousness of the situation.

“C’mere, baby. Let’s sleep,” he sees your cheeks squished against the pillow and pinches them, cooing at you at the same time, “so cute.”

Like a spell, you feel your eyelids become heavy, and you find yourself wrapped in his arms, his scent lulling you to a state of calmness.

“Sweet dreams, princess.”

—

Suguru's hoodie sits on the bed as he gets ready for another shift. You’ve been watching him get ready for the past ten minutes, and you don't think you'll ever get tired of it.

“How’s 'toru?” you ask, not remembering when was the last time you saw your boyfriend’s best friend. Just like him, he also worked the night shifts at the bar while balancing his last year in grad school, “I don’t think I've seen him around.”

Satoru practically lived in your apartment, loving how you always spoil him and side with him. To this day, Suguru says he regrets introducing him to you.

He leans down to your level and whispers, “you know how he gets during finals,” his fingers grasp a few strands of your hair to play with and doesn't say anything else.

“Well, tell him to come visit, so he can rest a bit. Also, he promised to watch a romcom every Saturday with me.”

This finally gets his attention, his eyebrows raising in interest, “why can’t you watch it with me?”

“You said you didn’t want to,” you shrug, “too cheesy for your liking or some shit like that.”

Suguru stands up to his full height again and grabs his hoodie, almost ready to go to the bar, “I'll bring popcorn when I get back, how’s that sound?”

You follow him to the door, watching as he slips his shoes on before turning around to face you, “are you sure? I know it's not the kind of genre you usually like to watch.” 

“I won't let a movie stop me from spending time with my girlfriend,” he smiles and kisses your lips with a long and noisy peck that makes your heart happy, “and we are playing Mario Kart after.”

“But I suck at Mario Kart!” 

“Exactly.”

—

It’s almost time for Suguru to come home and since the last few days have felt like the honeymoon phase when you moved in together, you decide you should spoil him with warm tea and a few of his favorite pastries. 

As you make sure to turn off the stove and place the kettle safely on top of it, you hear the familiar jiggle of keys at the door. He steps in with his shoulders slumped and his eyes red, a very unusual sight that, truthfully, scares you a bit.

You walk up to him with the intent of helping him get rid of his clothes, to comfort him, but a particular smell catches your attention.

“You smoked,” it wasn’t a question.

He grimaces in return, “I'll go brush my teeth.”

You follow him to the bathroom, observing him splash water on his face before picking up his toothbrush.

“Rough night?”

He looks at you through the mirror and stares at your reflection for what feels like an eternity, but then he just shrugs, places his toothbrush back next to yours, and exits the bathroom.

“You could say so.”

“Can you believe you’re almost done with your master's? You're graduating this semester, right?”

As soon as you see him nod, you beam and clap your hands together.

“We should celebrate! Is the bottle of white wine still in the fridge?” but with a shake of his head, you have your answer, “then let’s go to the store, my treat! I'll get you your favorite beers too.”

“Isn’t it too early?” he takes a look at his watch and indeed it is early, barely past seven in the morning, “and I don't drink.”

Your smile falters a bit, confused at his last statement, “since when?”

“A few months ago,” he kisses the top of your head before pouring the boiling water in a cup.

You drop the subject and choose to focus on something else, excited to see his new future approaching, “what's the plan, then? Moving to a bigger place?”

His smile turns into a sad one and shakes his head, “I want us to stay here.”

It feels like someone just threw a bucket of cold water at you, your senses sharper than ever and your mind free of the fog that clouded it. It's unsettling how it's all laced with a hint of dread, no longer being able to smile until you make sure he faces your reality.

“You can’t.”

The answer is immediate, his body turning rigid and the defensiveness radiating off of him almost palpable.

“Why not?” he retaliates, his tone harsh and cold, “we’ve been living here since we graduated, you like this place.”

So that was the reason? A fond smile settles on your lips, and a bittersweet feeling takes over you. Pushing his cup aside, you move closer to him, your hands cupping his cheeks and making him look at you.

Like a switch, Suguru’s eyes fill with tears, glistening like the prettiest amethyst, even though the sight breaks your heart. You have never seen him so broken, your own heart aching at the sight of your boyfriend on the verge of breaking down in your arms. 

But you can’t drag this on and keep fooling yourselves.

“It's time to let go, Suguru.”

End of part one.

[hajimesh]

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐skyfall. suguru geto

part two. sunset (him)

⥅word c. 2,656

⥅warnings. suguru's pov, heavy angst, main character death, mentions of drinking and smoking, depressed suguru, hurt/comfort (?)

𝄢♭turning page ‐ sleeping at last / let her go ‐ passenger

Suguru will never forget the morning you came back to him. He distinctly remembers it was right after a slow night at the bar, the air felt chiller than usual, and the streets were too quiet. He couldn’t wait to get home, already dreaming of his bed and the leftover pizza from two nights ago.

But the sleep vanished as soon as he saw you sitting by the window.

At first, he thought someone had broken into his place until he realized it was you, which scared him even more than the thought of a thief. As soon as he heard your voice, it was as if he felt everything and nothing all at once—it also made him realize he had started to forget the sound of it without noticing.

It was the sight of your cheeky smile, the little wave as you teased him like you used to, that got him out of his stupor. Suddenly, he was on a high, something he hadn’t felt in months.

Gone was the tiredness from working all night as he ran up the stairs to the apartment while his heart beat wildly against his rib cage. However, nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight that awaited him: sitting by the window, the curtains blew behind you as the sky shone with pinks and lilacs, clouds that looked like cotton floating in it. But even such beautiful scenery couldn’t compare to the sight of you, your beauty or the gentle smile on your face.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he felt his soul come back to his body as soon as he had you in his arms. The feel of your fingers carding through his hair immediately relaxed him, your voice soothing the dull pain that had settled deep in his heart.

He feared his heart would not make it through that morning, your presence and laugh — god, how he had missed your laugh — more than enough of a threat to his battered heart. 

That morning, Suguru Geto came back to life after living like a zombie for three months without you, the pain pushed to the back of his mind as he only focused on loving you.

—

He often wondered if he should quit his job, it messed up with his sleeping schedule and mood. But that bar was where he first met you, he still remembered how you walked up to him to order a round of drinks for your friends, and by the end of the night you had left right after saving your number in his phone.

Somehow, it felt wrong to leave a place that held such beautiful memories.

“You’ll be late for work,” he heard you say, light kisses covering his face as they traveled from his lips to his jaw before focusing on his cheeks.

He could tell it was dark outside, which meant that yes, he was most definitely running late. But he was a prisoner of your kisses, he would be out of his mind to push you away.

“Shower with me.”

Suguru was enraptured the whole time, watching the water dripping down your body as you sang each song that played from the speaker you had in the bathroom. The only thing that could stop you were his lips, kissing you nonstop until he had to physically hold you so you wouldn't fall to your knees. 

At that moment, he felt like he fell in love with you all over again.

He really didn't want to leave, but if you were there with him, then it meant that everything was back to normal. It made sense, right?

“See you at sunrise!”

And when he saw you by the window the next day, and the day after that, suddenly he was looking forward to each morning, hoping to see you sitting by the window where you belonged. 

The world could end tomorrow, and he wouldn’t care. As long as he had you by his side, nothing could ruin his happiness.

The rush hour was at its peak, college kids flooding the small bar on a Friday night—finals were over, so Suguru kind of expected it. After all, it was something he used to do just a few years ago.

He worked as fast as he could, lining up the shot glasses and filling them with liquor so Satoru could take them to the right table. It had become part of their routine, both men realizing that they worked well together after two days of being on the same shift.

Satoru placed his elbows on the counter and leaned forward, squinted eyes staring suspiciously at Suguru.

“You seem… livelier,” he paused, “chirpier?”

Shrugging, Suguru continued pouring drinks, “why wouldn’t I be?”

Still looking at him weirdly, Satoru dropped the subject once the raven-haired handed him another round of drinks, turning on his heel and continuing to work—he could always ask him later.

Meanwhile, Suguru’s mind strayed to your conversation from earlier that day. It had been two weeks since you were back, and it was impossible to get you out of his mind. Before he could stop it, he was smiling at the memory, his heart fluttered at the thought of spending all of your weekends cuddling and watching movies. He hoped that one day, a little version of you both could join the tradition.

At that point, he couldn’t hide his smile.

With a push of his hips, Satoru tried to snap him out of his daydream, signaling with his head to the girl that stood in front of him. 

Suguru stared at her, she seemed familiar, but it wasn’t until she reminded him of her name that he remembered who she was: an old classmate from high school. They had dated briefly during their senior year before he met you.

“I haven't seen you since we graduated,” she smiled at him, “I never thought I would find you here of all places!”

The atmosphere felt awkward, it was as if an elephant sat in the room and everyone could see it but him. He didn’t like that feeling one bit.

“Yeah, I work here.”

The girl hummed and shot Satoru a polite smile, her long nails tapping loudly against the granite.

“I-I was actually wondering if,” she paused, looking bashful as she switched her weight from one heel to the other, “we could go for a cup of coffee one of these days? You know, like, to catch up?”  

Suguru instantly tensed up, “catch up?”

“Yeah! Uhm… like a date?”

He never liked it when people put him on the spot, both Satoru’s and the girl’s eyes set on him as they waited for his answer.

“Sorry, but I have a girlfriend,” he offered her an awkward smile.

Satoru sighed dramatically, wrapping an arm around Suguru’s shoulders and pulling him against his side.

“I don't think she’ll mind,” he winked at Suguru before turning to look at the confused girl, “he’d love to go on a date with you!”

Pushing him away, Suguru looked at him in disgust, “are you out of your mind?”

Both men were too busy staring at the other down to hear the girl excuse herself and leave.

Satoru scoffed, “I should be the one asking you that.”

“The fuck you mean by that!?” Suguru was fuming by now, attracting the interest of a few patrons that happened to witness everything.

“Hey, hey!” a third voice intervened, Nanami placing himself between them, “you two need to calm down.”

Suguru ignored the recently hired waiter, continuing to stare down at his best friend. There was no way he was going to stand there and let him treat you like that. 

“I asked you a question: what the hell was that!?”

“Sorry for trying to get you a date with a cute girl,” Satoru said sarcastically, “one date won’t hurt, and you know it.”

Fed up with his words, Suguru pushed Nanami to the side and stepped closer to whom he had to call his best and closest friend. He had had enough of Satoru’s shit. 

“Disrespect my girl again, and I'll forget you’re like a brother to me.”

With a sneer, Satoru reciprocated the look.

“Suit yourself.”

—

They barely talked again for the rest of the night.

Suguru could feel a migraine coming, the faint palpitations at the back of his head increasing as the minutes passed. All he wanted was his shift to be over, so he could go back to your arms.

He took the trash outside, staying there a few minutes as he leaned against the wall. His lips wrapped around the cigarette as he took a long drag, and unconsciously began to smile once he noticed the sky starting to lighten. 

The sound of the door opening and closing took him out of his daydream.

“Spill,” Satoru stood before him, arms folded in front of his chest with a serious look that Suguru hadn’t seen in weeks, “what’s up with you.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Don’t you dare push me away again,” the white-haired jabbed a finger on his chest, “you were finally recovering, and what? You’re letting her control your life again?”

“I would watch my mouth if I were you,” Suguru warned him, his features hardening again, “and she isn’t controlling anything.”

Groaning, Satoru ran a hand down his face, “when are you going to get it through your thick skull?!” 

“Get what!?”

After stepping on the cigarette, Suguru started making his way inside, getting tired of Satoru’s complaints. Only to stop abruptly once he heard him speak again, his blood turning cold. 

“That your girlfriend is dead.”

Suguru never believed in those weird conspiracy theories that Satoru liked to feed him, and even years later, he still managed to come up with the craziest stories.

He believed there's a rational explanation for everything, not entirely a man of science, but if you could prove what you said, then he had no reason to doubt.

Every rational thought told him it couldn’t be possible, and yet there you were, holding his face between your hands as he heard your voice, and smelled your perfume. 

You were supposed to be gone.

He had to hold back from breaking down as soon as he got home, your silhouette standing by the window as if you truly were there, waiting for him like you always used to. He couldn't bear to see you smile, to hear you talk about a future when you no longer had one. He could barely keep it together when you cupped his face in your hands and made him stare at you, something seemed to have switched in your eyes, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“It’s time to let go, Suguru.”

“I can't,” he whispered in a broken voice, “I don't want to.”

Three months without seeing you, feeling you, there was no way he’d let you slip away from his grasp—not again.

Tears ran down his cheeks, his heart pressing heavily against his chest as he fought the need to crumble down to the floor. He could see your eyes glistening with tears, but your pretty smile remained, giving him all the time he needed to compose himself. 

“I'm so sorry.”

“It wasn't your fault,” you whispered, rubbing your thumbs against his cheekbones, trying and failing to stop the tears, “I could never blame you, I never did.”

Unwanted memories from that day swarmed his mind: the loud screech of tires against the pavement, your body next to his, the sight of your beautiful face covered in cuts and bruises mocking the peaceful look in it. The memory haunted him for months.

What was once the face of an angel, as he liked to call you, twisted into a gruesome memory.

If only he hadn’t convinced you to accompany him to the party, or if he had paid more attention to the road so he could’ve avoided the drunk driver that hit the car as he drove home. You’d still be there, with him, holding him just as you were doing right at that moment.

“I'm going insane,” he sniffled, resting his forehead against yours, “aren’t I?”

“No, no, you’re not. But you aren’t taking care of yourself,” you kept smiling through your tears, your voice gentle as if you were talking to a child, “you either sleep too little or too much, and you haven’t been attending your lectures.”

Rocking you side to side, he dismissed your comment with a nonchalant hum, “but I’m happy now, isn’t that what you want? Just… stay? Please?”

The lack of words on your part was his answer.

“Will I see you again?” 

“Of course,” your smile broadened, “even if the skies fall, or a huge wave takes over the city, you’ll never get rid of me.”

Suguru’s hold tightened, your face hiding in his chest as you both tried to calm yourselves down. He didn’t dare to close his eyes, wanting to see your face for as long as he could. And even with tears clogging up your eyelashes and wobbly lips, you were still as gorgeous as he remembered.

“You’re my sunrise, and I'm your sunset,” he whispered in your ear, “never forget that.”

Not like you could. You had found your very own sunset, only yours to love and admire.

“I would never.”

Even with puffy eyes and tears wetting your cheeks, Suguru still thought you were the most beautiful woman that ever walked the earth. He helped you wipe your tears, watching you sniffle and laugh right after.

“Baby?” you spoke after a few minutes of silence and holding each other, basking in his warmth until it made you sleepy. 

His lips kissed the crown of your hair while his fingers combed it away from your face, admiring your face with love brimming from his eyes, “hm?”

A lump blocked your throat, tears welling up in your eyes before quickly cascading down your cheeks as you ingrained his face into your memory.     

“Look for me in the sky, I promise I'll be there.”

Suguru never saw you again after that day.

It was as if the grief took over his life all over again, the sorrow suffocating him with each breath he took. His body and soul crumpled even lower than the first time, however, with each passing week, the heaviness in his heart became lighter.

It took him a while to open up to Satoru, and when he finally did, the tears were unstoppable from both sides. Satoru felt for his friend and you, you two had had a close bond too after all, and after seeing Suguru shattered after your loss, he knew he had to be his rock.

There wasn’t a place in the city that didn’t have your name, filled with memories of your dates as Suguru and you explored the world together. But it was time to turn the page, with your memory inked on the corner of it and in Suguru’s soul.

He would never be able to forget you, and he didn’t want to.

Sitting by the window, Suguru took a look at the late spring afternoon. Living in a world without you would always be painful, which is why he found himself staring at it from your eyes. That window was your spot; he would always find you there before the sun was up, and right before it disappeared behind the horizon, waving him goodbye as he drove away to work.

The usual bustle of the streets quieted down for a moment, it was as if the world went still. Orange tinted the sky as usual, only this time, hues of blue and lilac blended across it, the wind cold and refreshing as it blew against his warm skin.

Suguru peered up at the skies with a nostalgic smile, a wave of peacefulness making its way into his heart.

“There you are, my love.”

[hajimesh]

skyfall — geto suguru

⥅ tags. fem!reader, non sorcerer au, university au, domestic fluff, heavy angst, unreliable narrator, multi-chapter

⥅author's n. one of my favorite pieces of angst i've ever written. apologies in advance, but i hope u enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it ♡

"will i see you again?"

"of course," you smiled through the tears, "even if the skies fall, or a huge wave takes over the city, you'll never get rid of me."

his hold tightened, your cheek pressing against his chest as you both tried to calm yourselves down.

"you're my sunrise, and i'm your sunset," he whispered in your ear, "never forget that."

—

part one. sunrise (her)

part two. sunset (him)

[hajimesh]

𝙥𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙨 — iwaizumi hajime / reader

you are in love with him, even when he has stopped loving you back. he's your soulmate after all.

⥅ word c. 300-ish

⥅ warnings. soulmates + love disease au, 50% fluff, 50% angst

⥅ author's n. i bring pain. last one, i promise

iwaizumi liked to gift you flowers.

bouquet after bouquet without the need of a special occasion. and soon it became his thing during the time you were together.

“hajime, i’m not dead. stop bringing me flowers.”

he slapped his hand on your mouth, “don’t say that!”

pink roses used to remind you of spring until those thoughts were slowly replaced by memories of him.

“you’re adorable,” his eyes observed you as you held the small bouquet close to your face, “but i thought you were supposed to smell their scent, not stare at them.”

you dismissed his comment with a wave of your hand, “i like how the petals look when the light hits them. you can see their veins.”

“veins?”

“yeah, look,” you stood on the tips of your toes so you could reach his eye-level as much as you could. he placed a hand on your waist to steady you, “see how they resemble veins?”

he hummed, seeing where you were coming from, “why not arteries?”

"..."

“i hate you.”

but life is unfair and, after a few years, he drifted away from you until you became a chore. he no longer smiled when he received a text from you and often chose his friends over you. it took weeks for you to see him again.

“i’m really sorry,” his olive eyes looked apologetic.

and you believed him. you knew he felt sorry for not loving you as he once did.

you couldn’t help but look down at the letters on your wrist—his name. as much as the soulmate system was a reliable source to most of the population, it didn’t mean it was set in stone.

“i-i understand.”

the pain in your chest became part of your life, and it intensified when you saw him holding someone else’s hand at the grocery store close to your place.

iwaizumi kept giving you flowers, but now they were tinted red as they bloomed inside your lungs.

[hajimesh]

12:12 + suna r.

"très jolie."

his face is serious, hands hidden in the pockets of his jeans and a certain fondness gleaming in his eyes.

"wha–" you squint at him, "what did you say?"

he says it again. pink lips moving slowly, almost teasingly, while you try and fail to make sense of what he's saying.

"and what does it mean?"

he shrugs, "don't know."

there's a hint of a smirk tugging his lips upwards as he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving you standing all by yourself.

"hey! you can't," you run after him, catching the hem of his shirt and huffing, "you can't just say that and leave."

he pats your head, once, twice. pinches your cheek and smiles, "i'm not telling."

blinking, you watch as his friends take him away from you. not even a goodbye, a little wave, nothing.

"fuck," pulling out your phone, you type what you think you heard and press search, "stupid rintarō and his dumb french lessons."

it takes a few seconds for the page to load, and almost a minute for the information to sink in. once it does, you can't help but let out a laugh, your heart fluttering and your body growing warm.

very pretty.

[hajimesh]

𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙨 — oikawa tooru / reader

a brief story of how your relationship with oikawa developed throughout the year

⥅ word c. 872

⥅ warnings. unrequited love, angst, argentina oikawa, and a few sentences in spanish proofread by a real argentinian (thank uuu irina ♡)

it was january when you met him.

the weight of your luggage suddenly seemed lighter as you dragged it behind you, but you weren’t complaining—not after such a long flight. you walked through the airport’s corridors hoping the change of scenery wouldn’t be so shocking, although the characteristic language flowing around you was already making you nervous. 

a man was crouched over his suitcase a few meters ahead of you, he looked distressed, flailing his arms around and clearly complaining about something to his male companions. his eyes searched around frantically until they fell on you.

well, on your suitcase. 

“disculpa, creo que tenés mi valija!” he jogged towards you, trying to hide the urgency in his voice behind a polite smile, “mira que la abrí y está llena de ropa de mujer.”

so that’s why it felt lighter.

you quickly inspected the contents of ‘your’ suitcase and after coming face to face with a pair of boxer briefs, it was safe to say you had the wrong one.

“perdón, no me di cuenta.”

you apologized as best as you could, inwardly cringing at the way the words squeaked out of your mouth with an obvious accent. but when his chocolate eyes gleamed as he let out a hearty laugh, your heartbeat skyrocketed.

“no pasa nada.”

after exchanging your suitcases, he apologized again. and with one last smile, he left.

—

the next time you saw him it was at the immigration office, one week later.

he immediately recognized you and introduced himself as oikawa tooru. he chatted your ear off, telling you how he had been living there for a few years but now that he was officially part of san juan’s volleyball team, he had to get the rest of his papers in order.

oikawa kindly invited you for coffee to properly apologize for the airport chaos, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t want to spend more time with him. 

after that, you became inseparable.

the lifestyle of a professional volleyball player is hectic, and you were thrown right into it because of him. he let you in his life with no decorum, telling you all about his friends from japan, his struggles and his insecurities. 

it was scary how much you came to know him in so little time, but what scared you the most were the feelings that bloomed inside of you.

by the time autumn arrived, you were already head over heels in love with him. 

the closer you grew to him, the more scratches and scrapes you found in his soul. all of which you’d have gladly tended to had you been given the opportunity.

let me heal you. 

the words felt ready to escape your mouth, but the fear of rejection wouldn’t let you confess. 

“hey,” you squeezed him between your arms. your own heart broke at the sight of him hurting, “everything will be alright. you, more than anyone, deserve to be happy.”

and just as you were there during his countless breakdowns, you also witnessed his tears of joy after eating a bowl of ramen from the japanese restaurant close to your workplace.

“¿qué decís?” he would laugh, making your insides tremble even if you were being made fun of because of your accent.

it became a common occurrence to have a playful pout on your lips whenever you were with him. 

“stop! i’m still learning.”

from the way he placed his hand on his hip to how he flicked his hair away from his face every five minutes; you learned all his little quirks and habits as you fell even more in love with him.

“did you leave a significant other back at home?” he asked one winter morning. 

the chilly air made his hair fly away from his face and tinted his cheeks with the prettiest shade of pink you had ever seen.

“huh?”

“i don’t think i’ve seen you interested in anyone whenever we go out.”

right. because you’re always too busy flirting with others to notice me staring at you.

“i came here for work, remember,” you rolled your eyes as you tried not to succumb under his accusing gaze, “not to find a partner.”

oh, but you had found one. you had found him. 

and by the time spring came, your heart was shattered into tiny pieces.

you were forced to watch as he stared lovingly at her, whispering a ‘te amo’ in her lips before kissing them. it was his ritual before his matches, which meant there was no way for you to escape the scene. 

jealousy became a constant in your life during those months and so did sadness.

for better or for worse, your suffering came to a stop when summer rolled in.

a deep sigh left your lips as you boarded the plane, the tightness in your chest increasing the more you walked away from him. you could still feel his arms around you, recalling how his scent brought tears to your eyes before he finally let go of you and returned to her side. 

she was clinging to his arm, waving you goodbye, while he grinned at you and gave you his signature peace sign.

it was december when you last saw him.

[hajimesh]

𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙨 — iwaizumi hajime / reader

a decision must be made. but at what cost? and to hajime's bad luck, karma exists.

⥅ word c. 600-ish

⥅ warnings. angst, mentions of illness, needles. soulmate + love disease au

⥅ author n. part 2 of petals

the flowers sitting at the windowsill stared back at you mockingly.

it was ironic, but there you were: resting your back against the hospital bed when it was thanks to flowers like those why you were in such situation.

you heard two knocks before the door opened and revealed the very own cause of your illness.

“what are you doing here?”

the ‘get well soon’ balloon in his hands bounced behind him until it reached the ceiling. his brows were drawn closer as his face settled in a frown.

“hanamaki said you were here,” iwaizumi approached the end of the bed and tied the thin string around the bed rail.

you quickly thought of how you were going to kick hanamaki's traitorous ass into next week.

“thanks for not bringing flowers, by the way. i already have plenty of those,” you joked.

but the smile iwaizumi gave you was forced, you could tell.

silence sat between you, his hands clenched at his sides as he thought of the right thing to say. even if he had thought about it during the entire way to the hospital, there were no proper words to apologize since he knew he was at fault.

“i didn’t think...” he trailed off. his eyes caught the iv in your hand, bruised skin surrounding it, and a pang of guilt hit him, “if i had known this would’ve happened–”

“but you didn’t. it was impossible to know.”

granted. hanahaki disease was widely known because of its tragically beautiful nature. and yet, it was a very rare condition.

“i know you hate me, but i swear i never wanted this to happen,” his voice was strained. by guilt? sadness? you didn’t know. 

but the last thing you wanted was iwaizumi’s pity.

“i don’t hate you,” you rolled your eyes but offered him a small smile, “i don’t have the energy to do that.”

“are you… getting the surgery?”

as much as it pained you, you did not want to forget about the love you had for him. it was something so beautiful and you’d forever be grateful for getting to experience something so strongly for him. 

but the ring on his fourth finger made you realize that –even if you had his name inked on your wrist– he was no longer yours.

“i am.”

his frown deepened, “is it worth the risk?”

“it’s either that or death, hajime,” you retorted, pained at his words. he might’ve not noticed it but he was being selfish, so self-centered, since he already had his happy ending, “you found your happiness, which means i can still find mine.”

he played with the gold band around his finger, thinking back to his own partner waiting for him at home, “of course you will, i truly hope you do.”

it took a while to go back to normal after the procedure. rehabilitation was a long trek and the damage in your airways was permanent, an eternal reminder of how heartbreak is dangerous and could literally kill you. but having the petals removed from your lungs felt like cool, soothing aloe vera on a burn—you could finally breathe.

the next time you saw iwaizumi was six months later.

your eyes trailed around his appearance before a compassionate smile appeared on your lips. you could only give him a few words of reassurance and tips on how to handle the process, listening to how he too chose to undergo the surgical procedure. 

iwaizumi was the one receiving flowers now, and he finally understood why you never hated him. it was an honour to have loved someone so strongly and to have your heart broken by them, accepting the disease as a bittersweet parting gift. 

even if it left his insides shredded.

[hajimesh]

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