#( anyways but it still lingers with him regardless )

[endawn]

thinking again about,,,,the immense amount of relief he feels after the sh-curse is lifted. how it settled like a heavy weight in his chest and a cold, encroaching prickle at the back of his mind as soon as they crossed into it. how he had so much dread and apprehension but didn't know why until mol..ag possesses him just to intimidate ( the tadcrew, by extension ) and question rap..hael at the mausoleum. how his fear and paranoia only increases because it was never that easy for him to do. there was always a warning, a chance to fight --- not realizing the curse was the cause. soaking it + the necrotic energy up meant his body and mind was more susceptible to his influence. hell, some of mol..ag's power being apart of the sh-curse. then, for it to be lifted from the land. the overbearing weight of it is gone only for the realization of why it was so easy for mol..ag to set in. the more relief it comes with. its palpable. he smiles for the first time in what seems like a great while.

[bisaster-energy]

literally don't listen to the oh hellos valley album if thinking about sam winchester makes u feel anything because those songs are so fucking samcoded it'll tear ur heart out

[watch-out-it-bites]

he said he would stop bothering us since I apologized then like days after he goes on an alt and bothers, or what happened a week ago or so I HATE HIM HFHBBNNJhhrvrvrhhrrrjjjjjjj

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . WAKING UP WITH THEM feat. 𝓙𝓤𝓙𝓤𝓣𝓢𝓤 𝓚𝓐𝓘𝓢𝓔𝓝!

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi + itadori yuuji

warnings! none, fluff ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hi it’s been so long + i just got a sudden urge to write with the new season + all! life has been super cray but hopefully i get to do some more jjk again ueueue! back to my roots <3

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU

it was almost a mission getting up next to gojo, or more so having to actually get out of bed when you have your overgrown clingy boyfriend wrapped around you.

his breathing is soft, the rise and fall of his chest is steady and despite the way the light barely breaks into the room you can see the way his lashes still rest along his cheeks.

now’s your chance, you think to yourself as you ease gojo’s arm from where he’s got it draped over your waist — gently as to not jolt him awake as you push yourself closer to the edge of the bed. you gently swing your legs over the edge, but just as you go to push yourself up you hear the slow, drowsy drawl of a man who’s definitely not about to let you do that.

“oh, what’s this? i don’t think so, sweet thing.” your snowy haired boyfriend grunts as his arms take their previous place around your waist from behind, tighter this time before you’re pulled back into his chest with such an ease you almost squeak. you barely heard him move and the speed he always seems to despite the early hours still makes your head feel dizzy.

“you wouldn’t leave me cold would you? where’s your heart?” gojo teases but you note that he’s warm when he’s pushing himself into the crook of your neck, letting his lips graze along the skin there as he chuckles at the way you shudder at the touch. he knows you’re pouting, your little mission not so successful—but he still thinks it’s adorable the way you melt back into him regardless.. like you were secretly hoping for the loss.

“you were literally asleep a second ago.” your words are accompanied by a playful pinch at his cheek before his large palms graze under your shirt, squeezing at your waist as he pulls away to give you a tilted look. his sleepy smirk is in place as it stretches wide before he leans into to press a quick kiss against your lips, then another against your cheek that lingers.

“oh yeah? but i thought i was still in a dream, sweet girl.” crystalline eyes pull back to look over you, mapping out your features like gojo hasn’t already committed them to memory. but you think it’s unfair how handsome he seems to look in the mornings, especially when you’re trying to resist the way he makes you want to give in to his request to stay in bed a little longer.

“yeah yeah, just get up already.”

“nuh ugh, you’ve not even given me my good morning kiss yet. how will i survive the day, hm?”

✩ ˛˚ . GETO SUGURU

you need to get up, geto knows when your alarm goes off for the third time even though it was the first that woke him. “i know you’re awake, pretty girl.” he hums against your temple, but you’re still pressed up into him and every attempt to shake you gently awake has you inching yourself closer to his chest rather than to the edge of the bed.

“come on.” his words are accompanied by the smooth trace of his hands along the curve of your spine and you think it’s a little contradictory, the way he’s making you melt even more into him despite the way it’s supposed to be waking you up instead.

“sugu, but i’m tired.” a kiss to your forehead and a squeeze of his hand at your hips and you hear geto chuckle as he pulls back to look at you — his dark hair still messily framing his features as he pushes himself up.

“yeah? you seemed to be sleeping well when you were snoring.” he teases even as one arm still wraps around you and pulls you into him anyway. chuckling, long and low when you grumble before nuzzling into the crook of his neck to press butterfly kisses along his skin.

“i don’t snore.” you reply before you find yourself lost in him, geto always smelled good, so good you wanted to wrap yourself in him like the blanket you wrap yourself in at night. you hear him hum at your words; like he’s not quite convinced before he’s reaching over you to tap at the alarm, again.

“but we really need to get up.” he sighs but somehow manages to keep you still pressed against him as he sits up, letting you curl up against his chest as the first cold press of morning air rolls over your shoulders while he stretches.

you look up at him with drowsy features but it seems to warm you from the inside out when you notice he’s already staring, a smirk in place before he’s pinching once at your cheek and kissing your lips when they jut out into a pout.

“hey, don’t gimme that look after all of those alarms, pretty girl.”

✩ ˛˚ . NANAMI KENTO

waking up with nanami was easy, or more so being woken up by him. he was always up early, waking you up with a sweet kiss against your cheek, followed by another against your temple. his coffee still lingers on his lips but you think it’s familiar, like it makes the first stretch of the day come a little easier when hes resting over you.

“morning, sweetheart.” his voice is a low drawl but he knows you’ll probably still be in bed by the time he leaves. but you know you’ll walk into the kitchen to sliced fruit on the table and your slippers will be waiting in their place over the edge — perfectly positioned for you to slide into because he knows the floor is a little colder in the morning.

“morning, kento.” your voice is cute, barely audible but nanami’s still close enough to hear it as he lets his palm push gently down the curve of your shoulder — squeezing at the skin affectionately. your eyes are barely open, but you can still feel the way he tucks the comforter over you, sighing softly before he pulls back.

“do you want me to bring in dinner?” he asks, you’re barely awake but he still waits for an answer. a little nod follows and he smiles to himself when you subconsciously roll onto his side of the bed, seeking out the small remainder of the warmth he’d left behind although you’d still rather he be next to you instead.

“then i won’t be late, i have dinner plans now after all.” nanami pulls back to take another sip of his coffee but you still seem to find the consciousness to reach out to grab at the cuff of his shirt. a drowsy blink up at him and he knows he can’t deny you when he’s leaning over you again, leaving you with another few kisses that find him having to smooth down his shirt and hair again afterwards.

✩ ˛˚ . FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

you think it’s charming, the way megumi is already looking at you as you wake, blinking blearily at your dark haired boyfriend as he gives you a content sort of look. you blink again, stretching slightly before you roll onto your side, edging yourself closer before you speak. “were you watching me sleep?”

your question is still drawled as you tease him, barely awake but you can still see the way it makes him jolt slightly — like he’s been caught in a daze as the tips of his ears sting with a blush. “no” but his reply is too quick, followed by a tsk while he’s suddenly looking everywhere but at you with a pout on his lips that only seems to lure you closer.

you giggle as you press yourself into megumi’s side, humming at the grumpy expression on his face because you still think it’s cute the way he lets you climb all over him. “what? i think it’s cute.” he softens at that, slightly as his eyes dart quickly to look at you before they’re gone again.

you let the silence settle for a few moments before you feel his arm reach to wrap gently around your waist, securing you against him before he clears his throat to finally say something. but his gaze remains on the ceiling. “i wasn’t staring..” he begins before he gives you another quick look, “.. you, you just made a sound, i was checking on you.”

you hum at megumi’s little excuse as your press your cheek into his shoulder, failing to hide the way your lips are starting to stretch into a grin that he notices before his brows furrow slightly. “hm? you looked happy about it.” you tease again and you feel his fingers squeeze at your waist slightly as he breathes out a long sigh and curls you closer.

“shutup.”

✩ ˛˚ . ITADORI YUUJI

on the rare occasions itadori seemed to wake up before you, you were never far behind — mostly because he couldn’t seem to wait too long without you. so you always seemed to find yourself woken up by a few messy kisses, pressed quickly into your cheeks, then your neck, then your nose until you’re pushing him away playfully at the way they tickle your skin.

“yuuji! i’m awake..” you huff out as your overgrown boyfriend leans his weight over you, like a giant puppy licking his owner awake in the morning as he sends you a bright grin. you always thought it was cute how pretty he still seemed to be in the mornings, even when his hair is messy and it’s barely 8am— there’s still a soft sort of glow in his eyes when they meet yours.

“morning!” itadori replies, his voice is lower than normal but he still handles you softly despite how tightly he wants to wrap you in his arms. but he was warm, sort of like sunshine and you think you quite enjoy the moments when you get to wake up under the sun.

“do you wanna get breakfast?” you ask softly and you swear you feel your boyfriend squeeze you tighter at that. but your arms wrap around him and he doesn’t think anything is gonna be as good as the feeling of you against his chest right now.

“five more minutes, babe. i wanna cuddle a little longer.” itadori’s words are muffled when he speaks them into your skin, continuing where he left off on his onslaught of kisses as he peppers them across your features. across your cheeks, along your jawline and down your neck until he’s pressing you into your pillows and groaning when you scratch your fingers through his hair.

but you accept, even though in five more minutes you know it’ll be ten.

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[mochinomnoms]

In regard to interspecies romance

Humans have a fairly easy time pursuing the other species in Twisted Wonderland, though there are exceptions to that rule.

multi (separate) x reader [wc] - 2,252 [note] - one of the first things i ever wrote, though i never posted cause i didnt edit it. thought i would anyways cause its kinda cute. Edited 12/14/23 to add a readmore

Despite their animal like tendencies and courting methods, it's incredibly common to see human-beastmen couples and families. Perhaps it's due to how similar their behaviors are to their animal counterparts, but humans are fond of how beastmen flirt and display affection. Beastmen are offended by the comparison, but it's hard to deny how similar, and cute, they are to the common wolf, hyena, or lion.

Wolf and other canine beastmen enjoy being close to their mates. They like to be physically affectionate, almost playful with their partners. They'll nuzzle into the crook of their neck—no matter how much bigger they are compared to their human—lean against them when they walk, and will happily be by their beloved's sided at all times. Furthermore, they primarily show their effectiveness as partners by being great providers, regardless of gender, and showing off how tight-knit their packs are. After all, family is very important to them, and they'll expect to have one, no matter how big or small, with their partner in the future.

If you catch Ruggie trying to slyly and smoothly place a hand on the small of you back when moving through crowds, no you don't. If a person notices Jack momentarily grabbing (gingerly, mind you) your sides as he slips behind you to reach the potion ingredient on the shelf above you, don't mention how his touch lingers ever so slightly. Maybe take it with a grain of salt when Jack tries to invite you to visit his family over break, as friends, of course. And when Ruggie brags to you about how well he watched over the neighborhood kids growing up, how he'd make for a great family man, it's all hypothetical.

Feline beastmen are more reserved in their affections in public, especially compared to canines, and even more so for lion beastmen. It's more common for them to show affection in more subtle manners, such as buying their partner's food and drinks without being asked, going out of their way to help them when they're struggling at school or work, and are able to spend hours just in their general vicinity. As long as their beloved is around, they're happy. In private, though, expect to have their entire body draped over them, weight and all, shoved into their personal space to the point that it becomes a foreign concept. Leona embodies this to his entire core, too prideful to perform PDA, but just prideful enough that he knows he can take up all your time and space with no consequence. Unless that consequence is your love and affection, which he supposes he could suffer through if you hear him purring, don't point it out.

All lion beastmen hold their pride close to their heart (no matter how much a certain prince would deny it) and their partner is no exception. Their pride is an intrinsically developed social network made of an extended, but closed family network. It requires all new partners to be carefully and slowly introduced to the rest of the pride, more so in Leona's case due to the royal family being traditionally made up of Sunset Savana nobility. You won't be the first non-beastmen, but are the first foreigner in a very long time to be introduced. Don't worry, though, Leona is nothing if not patient, and his family are just happy to know that he's found someone.

On the other end of the spectrum, however, are human-fae relations. Uncommon, though not for a lack of trying on humans' parts, due to most of the fairfolk residing in the isolated Briar Valley. The complicated history between the two species, ancient to humans but still relatively fresh for fae, doesn't help either. There's also the unfortunate consequence of humankind's rather short lifespans compared to the average 1,000-year lifespan of the fae. Unless the fae is in their final hundred or so years, they'll almost always outlive their partner without magical interference.

It's not impossible though, and as younger fairfolk leave the valley to explore the world, more marriages have resulted in half-fae children, both human and beastmen. As partners, fae are devoted to the health and safety of their loved ones. Increasing tenfold into nearly coddling territory with non-fae. Compared to them, their humans and beastmen are awfully fragile and naive, and require their protection. This can cause animosity between them, however, and only fae that are willing to learn and change their old ways result in happy, long-lived marriages.

They're also generally known to have lengthy courting methods: not dating, that implies something casual, no they court. Once they've established interest in you, their end goal is marriage, no ifs, ands, or buts. Fairfolk are generous with gifting during courtship: all gifts are about an equal-exchange and your acceptance of their gifts is a reciprocation of their feelings. At the end of the courtship, you can expect a small feast to be displayed at a ceremony held between their and your family. This is an especially important ceremony when courting humans and beastmen: fairy food can often cause lasting damages to those that consume it without permission. By offering their food to you and your kin, they are welcoming you into their world and telling you that they will never intentionally bestow harm to you or your kin. If you choose to accept the food, then you agree to do the same til the end of your days.

Lilia is a strange case, having already lived a long life and being well traveled, a gleeful participant in the strange customs and traditions of humans and beastmen. He'd much rather participate in other's dating and courtship rituals than his own people's. It's fascinating how fleeting the process can be, yet it can result in everlasting devotion. Don't mistake his flexible nature for disinterest, however. He's still a fae, and if you start finding silly little knickknacks of his on their desk, you can expect to never be rid of him.

The Draconia family-line is steadfast in their traditions, even if Lilia raised the latest prince. So don't expect anything other than the previously explained rituals from Malleus, even if you're not aware of them. Taking gems, jewelry, and clothing made of the finest material you'll ever lay hands from his hoard means little to him if it means you'll accept the gift (and him). Even if you aren't aware of how courtship works, the moment you pick up the black ring with the big oval emerald and Briar Valley crest, you're practically engaged in his eyes.

The courtship is long, even for Malleus who was one step away at every turn to skip over the entire thing in favor of just eloping. All for the person who decided that the great and terrifying Malleus Draconia was actually just a simple Mr. Hornton, a friend, companion who just wanted someone to stay by his side. If it means calling you his spouse, his fellow ruler, and the only love of his life even a moment sooner, then he'd be willing to throw tradition and ritual out of the very tall tower window just to do so.

Many years later, when you reminiscing how the two of you first met, and how long it took you to notice his feelings, you'll offhandedly mention the random gifts you found at your doorstep. How you wish you knew who was leaving those precious stones and golden amulets with no indication on who the admirer was. Upon further questioning, you'll tell him that you didn't even know you were being courted until two months into the ritual. It'll then click in Malleus's mind how utterly lucky he was that the two of you even got together in the first place.

It may be surprising, but human-mer relations have been extraordinarily rare. Only a handful of them have popped up since the times of the Sea Princess, who left her home for a human prince. In fact, you could probably count them on one hand! Perhaps this is due to the difficulties of having a romance between land dwellers and undersea folk; after all, it's much easier for humans, fae, and beastmen to interact when they all live on land. Merfolk can come up to the surface, and have been doing moreso in the last century, but having a relationship with someone who quite literally could not breathe in the same air/water as you is near impossible. At least, not without significant effort on one or the other's part.

Nearly all the human-mer romances that have occurred in history resulted in either one or the other abandoning their home to turn into a human/mer and live the rest of their days with their love in their new world. Certainly a romantic notion to be sure, but it most definitely require their love to be truly eternal. Or else you might run the risk of resentment brewing between the two. With a slowly growing need to easy access transformation potions and spells for business and diplomatic reasons, such romance is not far from reach, at least for those with money to spare. The next issue though would be the significant difference between land dweller and undersea folk's courting methods.

Perhaps it can be contributed to the more...feral nature of merfolk. Most of them still retain more animalistic features and behaviors than the average beastman. The twins are no exception to this. Even if you were to remove their claws, mucus covered skin, and 6-ft tail, you're still left with eyes suited for a deep-sea predator, nose that can smell the tiniest drop of blood in a pool, and rows of razor sharp teeth begging to bite down on your neck. The deep-sea is not only cold, but quite ruthless. So, it'll probably come as no surprise that moray eels will prove themselves as suitable partners by fighting either their competitors or you. If they can prove that they can hold their own, protect you from the horrors of the deep, then they have the right to go for your heart. That's not to say softer sentiments don't exist, and while similar the twins are still two separate people with different tastes. These tastes show during courting, though mers have a more casual date-like ritual.

Like fae, merfolk court via gifts, particularly handmade or ones they found themselves, and Floyd is awfully fond if gifting you the strangest things. A tooth that was knocked out from the student who shoved you a little too hard, a rock you tripped over in P.E., or a sand dollar he found on a trip to the beach were a few of the many items he gave you. Jade is similar, though he's more fond of making his own gifts. A necklace made of seashells found at the beach you had your first date in, a terrarium he made from plants that remind him of you, but your favorite was the small garden he started tending to on your kitchen windowsill. Breakfast was particularly delicious when made with his fresh mushrooms. Expect soon after the gifts lots of physical affection, public and private.

Don't be mistaken, they'll still bully you. But each of Floyd's bone-crushing hugs will be accompanied by a soft headbump from his forehead to yours. Jade's teasing, mean remarks will follow with a swift, sweet peck to your knuckles. They'll grab your notebook and hold it above their head until you agree to give them a kiss or punch them in the stomach, both are acceptable responses. Be a little mean back, they like the idea of a sweet and cute little human that can throw a punch. Your their sweet little human, and you make life in the deep exciting. Just don't ask about their flushed face every time they see you yawn, they aren't quite ready to explain that one yet.

Azul intensely studied a variety of topics before coming to land, even briefly glossing over dating, romance, and marriage before deciding he wouldn't need it anytime soon. He regretted that soon after meeting you, though he made do with what he knew. And what he knew as food. A combination of octo-mer courtship and being the son of a cook, Azul will discreetly court you by personally cooking and feeding you your favorite meals. It's the result of the dangers of ancient octo-mers eating their spouses after mating. Afterall you can't eat more if your already full. While not something they have to worry about now, it's an old ritual still used today, Azul has hear the way to a person's heart is their stomach and can wholeheartedly agree.

What's surprised you the most was what followed after, especially for someone as physically reserved as Azul: octo-mers are extremely clingy and affectionate. He doesn't have the heart to do anything more than handholding and chaste kisses to your cheeks in public, but he yearns to wrap all 8 tentacles and two arms around you so tightly that your gasping for a breath that he steals with his lips. He won't mention it, but he can taste the salt from your skin and the pulse from your wrists with his suckers. Take it from someone who grew up with a refined palate, he thinks your taste is equivalent to ambrosia from the gods, though that might be the lovesickness speaking.

i have a hard time writing savanaclaw for some reason, but imma working on it now! also tagging for all the guys is stressful idk what i should enter, like fullname or just first name idk man!! pls reblog and comment! lmk what you time, xoxo

[startears0153]

☾ Seeing you cry in your sleep

How they react to finding you crying silently in your sleep.

☾ Characters: Argenti, Blade, Dan Heng, Dr. Ratio

☾ Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, GN Reader, StellaronHunter!Reader in Blade's, Ratio (affectionately) calling you fool in his part

Might write a 2nd part with Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt and Luocha (and maybe Sampo) in the future :)

Argenti

Upon entering your shared cottage, Argenti finds you sleeping on the chair by the window. They must’ve fallen asleep while admiring the scenery of the falling snow outside, Argenti thought with a fond smile. 

For a moment, Argenti found himself unable to move, for his emerald colored eyes were transfixed upon the serene beauty of the scene before him. The falling snow, the white winter wonderland serving as the perfect backdrop to accentuate the beauty of your resting figure.

Still, he realized it probably wouldn’t do well if you were to fall sick from the cold. So, he quietly made his way through the room and draped a blanket over your figure. 

That was when he noticed the presence of tears on the corners of your eyes. 

For a while, Argenti thought his eyes were deceiving him. It wasn’t until he saw a lone tear fall from your eye that he was finally hit by the fact that you were, indeed, crying in your sleep. 

His heart ached upon the sight and he instinctively reached to cup your cheek; his thumb gently caressing the corner of your eye, wiping away the stream of tears that began to fall like tender snow. 

After some deliberation on how to proceed, Argenti would kneel before your sleeping figure before carefully stirring you awake with a gentle squeeze to your hand and softly calling out your name. 

“Good morning my dear,” He would greet you with a tender smile, though you could easily sense the twinge of sadness and melancholia lingering in his voice. “I apologize if this may sound unpleasant to you but … you were crying in your sleep. Is … Is everything alright?” 

He would fret over you, but he would try to keep it to a minimum lest he were to accidentally do more harm than good. He was obviously worried about what ailed you, but again, what mattered most to him was your comfort. 

Regardless of whether you choose to speak of the reason for your tears, Argenti would remain by your side, kneeling before you as he held your hand in his. 

If he could, he would do anything in his power to vanquish the reason behind your tears. He never wants you to shed tears, neither in sleep or wake, ever again.

Blade

It was almost time for the opening act of Elio’s Script. Blade comes to searches for you in the meeting spot, and finds you asleep above one of the many wooden crates of the abandoned factory. 

How carefree, Blade thought with a scoff. Even so, Blade’s heart blossoms with warmth, that very same warmth that is born from his affection and adoration for you and all your silly antics. 

If he could, he would let you rest for longer and perhaps even join you in your restful slumber, resting your head on his shoulder. But alas, the Script takes priority and it was almost time to begin. 

So he reaches to shake your shoulder … but then froze upon the sight of tears falling from your eyes. 

Blade has never been one for tears. In a different life, perhaps, he would have been. But tears have no meaning for Blade. Crying does not provide one with salvation, no matter how much one cries, what was lost could never return. 

And yet, the sight of your tears shook him to his core. 

Blade didn’t know what to do. What could he do anyway? Reach for your face and wipe away your tears with his thumb? Lean towards you and kiss the corners of your eyes, all in hopes for your tears to stop cascading from your eyes? How ridiculous. As though that would solve any of your problems. 

So, he does what he is supposed to. Grab your shoulder and gently shake you awake. 

“Wake up. It’s almost time to begin.” He says brusquely, already turning around for his back to face you. “Wipe your tears. Don’t let the enemy see even a single hint of weakness.” 

You would be shocked upon realizing you were crying in your sleep and hurriedly wiped away the remains of your tears. Not soon after, you join him by the ledge of the building, watching over the city with puffy eyes. Blade would steal a glance at you and then he would say, 

“Do not be hasty. I am with you.”

You didn’t need to try hard to know that he wasn’t just talking about the battle ahead.

Dan Heng

The hour was late when Den Heng jolted awake from his sleep. He dreamt of a vague memory of his past incarnation and saw a nightmare where his friends were swept away by the waves; of you disappearing in the dark sea of clouds. 

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Dan Heng takes a moment to recompose himself before shifting to rest on his side, thus meeting the familiar sight of your back. They’re here, Dan Heng thought to himself, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. It’s all just a dream. 

Not wanting to wake you, Dan Heng simply stares at your back. The steadiness of your breathing, a reminder that you are alive. Gingerly, Dan Heng reaches to subtly trace soothing lines on your back. Truth be told, it was probably more soothing for him than you. 

Then suddenly, there was a slight change in the pattern of your breathing. More feeble and erratic. Concerned that he might have woken you up, Dan Heng pushed himself up to check on your condition … 

… Only to find you crying in your sleep. 

Upon the sight of your tears, falling so steadily onto the fabric of your already damp pillow, Dan Heng’s breath hitches. He shakes your shoulders, calling your name again and again until your eyes open and meet his pairs of jaded blue. 

“You’re crying.” He said bluntly, his brows furrowed as a tell-tale sign of his bleeding concern for you. “What? No, I’m fine. Yes, I woke up because of a nightmare but I’m more concerned for you.” 

The two of you would both end up sitting on the bed, both fretting over each other’s condition. You asked Dan Heng about his nightmare and he would reply that it was the usual. He asked you about your tears, and you replied you didn’t even know you were crying until Dan Heng pointed it out. 

In the end, the both of you would end up embracing each other tightly, providing both comfort and strength to one another. You both wind up laying on the bed in each other’s arms. 

Dan Heng would stay awake for a while after you’ve fallen asleep, gazing at your resting figure in hopes that he would never have to see you cry in your sleep once more.  

Dr. Ratio

After a long day full of shameful displays of stupidity from the people around him, Dr. Veritas Ratio was done for the day and is free to visit his beloved. I cannot wait to see them, Ratio thought as he made large strides towards your office. It has been far too long since I’ve had an intellectually stimulating conversation!

He thinks of all the topics he could talk with you, ranging from the most mundane things such as how each other’s days went and the more complex like the discourse regarding a recent hot theory. 

Imagine his disappointment when he enters your office and finds you dead asleep on your desk. 

Frowning, Ratio rationalizes that you were probably just as exhausted as he was and that there were plenty of chances for conversation when the two of you have rested up. Still. He was disappointed. 

He walked towards your desk and took a moment to observe your resting figure. You were sleeping above your paper reports. Now that’s a lark. But then, he noticed something else. 

Your papers were soaked, all from the tears that were still cascading from your eyes. 

Upon the sight of your tears, Ratio’s heart seemingly ceased to beat. There was shock, confusion, concern and all these strong emotions that meld with one another. In a rare moment of panic, Ratio shook you awake, forcing you away from your stained papers. 

“You fool, just what do you think you’re doing?!” He shouts, worry bleeding through his tone. “Don’t ‘What the hell, Veritas’ me! You’re the one crying on your reports and making them unreadable!” 

You would be confused until you realize that you were crying in your sleep. You touched the lingering wetness on your cheeks and laughed feebly. It was probably the pent up stress, you offered weakly, annoying Ratio once more. 

You expect a lecture, but unexpectedly, Ratio places hand behind your head, brings you to rest against his broad shoulder. 

“You are a fool for ruining those reports. If you must cry … cry on my shoulder instead.” 

It was a silly attempt at cheering you up, but you appreciated it all the same. 

Hehe this was a super fun prompt to write! Might write a second part with Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt and Luocha when I feel the inspiration hitting me 👀

Also still semi-working on banners ... sigh, lets hope I find a good theme soon enough.

Thank you for reading 💖

[bbyseok]

at first sight? — GOJO SATORU

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader

word count: 10k (idek i was possessed)

banner by @/bbyseok , dividers by @/bunnysrph !!

a/n: um hi. its finally here ! thanks to all who liked the teaser, this is my first jjk/gojo fic ever but i really think everyone needs some comfort after jjk chap 261.. and fuck u gege !!

content: soulmate au, gender neutral reader, minimal use of they/them pronouns for reader but gender is not specified, sorcerer reader, nicknames ‘sweetheart’, ‘pretty’, ‘baby’, fluff, mild angst with a happy ending, slowburn??, several pov switches, suggestive/implied nsfw at the end but nothing explicit, brief swearing/explicit language, brief violence/injuries, alcohol consumption, reader gets mildly drunk but nothing else, implied satosugu as past soulmates: can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic, fic takes place after jjk 0 but before the show starts

analysis: this is a world filled not only with curses, but soulmates—in which you know someone is your soulmate when you first make eye contact with them. but for your case, things can get a bit complicated when someone is wearing a blindfold.

here, in this universe, you can tell that someone is your soulmate by simply looking at them. so with that, the saying of “love at first sight” is actually pretty accurate here. you see them for the very first time and barely know the person and yet, somehow, they’re the one you’re destined to be with.

with that, you’d think it’d be pretty common for two random people to run into each other while crossing the street or something and bam! suddenly you’ve found the supposed love of your life!

and you? well, for you, that hasn’t happened yet.

to be fair, it’s not like you’re actively trying to look for your soulmate. handling curses as a jujutsu sorcerer is difficult enough. (maybe you’ll run into them one day after saving them from a curse or something. how romantic!)

it’s better to leave it up to fate. it’s fate who decided your pairing anyway, right?

your transfer to jujutsu tech had been fairly smooth. after being stationed in kyoto for a while, tokyo was a nice change of pace.

coincidentally, you had been out of the country during the incident known as the night parade of a hundred demons. a scary event that proved the threat of curse users to be formidable.

because of that, your decision to transfer to tokyo seemed like the right thing to do. and so far, it’s been decent.

it’s a nice change of scenery. the students are aspiring; while maki and megumi aren’t the friendliest, they’re warming up to you. toge and panda are gradually improving.

nanami’s pessimistic outlook on jujutsu society and shoko’s overall unenthusiastic demeanor are certainly interesting for the most part, but your coworkers are pleasant to be around.

well. except for one.

gojo satoru knows that you are his soulmate. he has indeed known this fact right from the very start, ever since your first meeting.

even with his blindfold on, he could see your own eyes before him. his six eyes can see everything. the thing is.. he didn’t know he could have another soulmate.

his situation with geto suguru is something he doesn’t talk about with anyone. maybe shoko at times, but even then, it’s rare. it’s not that he doesn’t want to, but it’s pretty hard to talk about.

after suguru defected, gojo could still obviously feel their bond. even though they were no longer together as the strongest duo, did it really matter when their souls were still connected to one another? it was a factor that played in avoiding (and perhaps meeting up with) each other as the years went by.

satoru felt their bond die that day after the events with okkotsu and rika. and it had frightened him. that lingering presence of the bond was no longer there.

so imagine his surprise when he sees you.

a new sorcerer in kyoto, now transferred to tokyo. normally, gojo doesn’t seek out the new recruits, but yaga had dragged him over regardless. besides, he might as well get to know his possible assistant teacher that would be helping him out with the new first years.

“i guess i can check out some new faces,” he relented with a sigh, adjusting his blindfold and looking to the side as yaga’s steps slowed as they approached you.

gojo rolled his eyes–not that you’d see it anyway–as yaga introduced you with your name and your sorcerer grade. he stopped to stand next to the principal.

you extended your hand to offer a handshake, and gojo finally turned his head.

that feeling as his gaze fell upon yours beneath the blindfold was familiar—frighteningly so—and unfamiliar at the same time. as if he could breathe for the first time in ages. your eyes are unaware, but they’re so revealing to him.

satoru stuttered in his movements, reluctantly taking your hand. the skin that touched yours felt like it was on fire. he briefly held on to see if you felt it too.

but you simply smiled up at him.

“it’s nice to meet you, gojo,” you said, blissfully unaware of the revelation currently dawning on the man before you and the turmoil it brought as he abruptly retracted his arm back.

gojo stiffened. he merely offered a curt nod before turning on heel and walking away briskly. he could faintly hear yaga protest about his sudden departure before apologizing to you hastily. satoru shook his head.

how was this be possible? how could the universe give him two soulmates? he didn’t even know that was a thing that could happen. he wondered if there had been a similar occurrence before.

gojo couldn’t help but feel nauseous. was this the world playing some sort of sick, cruel joke on him? or was it perhaps giving him a second chance?

and truthfully, it wasn’t like gojo even wanted another soulmate. not after what he had been through with suguru. he hadn’t given it much thought.

was it really worth it?

what if he couldn’t protect you too?

so satoru had decided on one thing that day: the blindfold stays on. concealing his eyes from the world not only for him, but for your sake too. he was certain in his choice; he would never tell you the truth.

as far as you were concerned, you haven’t met your soulmate yet.

and never will.

your first meeting with gojo wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it wasn’t something you could describe as good either. you’ve been left with the impression that he’s cocky and indifferent.

and that he doesn’t like you.

it’s been around.. two? three weeks? it’s been a while since your encounter with the white-haired sorcerer, and you’ve only seen a few glimpses of him here and there on campus.

okay, he doesn’t display any outright mean or ill intention towards you. on the very rare times the two of you do interact, he is obviously curt and clipped. seems like he’s deemed you worthy of the only either nods or one word responses.

you’ve yet to actually participate in a lesson or mission with gojo, but you prefer it that way. providing individual training and advice for the upcoming second years has been going great. at this point, you’re sure it’d only be awkward.

besides, the strongest sorcerer alive doesn’t necessarily need assistance in dealing with curses after all. that much is understandable.

you’re currently in the teachers’ lounge room with nanami. even though he isn’t actually a teacher, he pays visits sometimes. he’s good company anyway.

“it’s nice to hear that you’re settling in well,” the blonde says with a nod. he loosens his necktie absentmindedly as he adjusts the newspaper in his lap. “especially with that gojo around. he can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

you frown at the mention of the sorcerer, crossing your arms. you’re seated across from nanami, watching him idly look through the newspaper.

“oh, well, actually, he isn’t too much trouble. for me, at least,” you reply, brows furrowing, “he barely talks to me.” (in fact, he seems to avoid you like you’re carrying the plague or something.)

nanami looks up, raising a brow. “huh. you should be grateful then.” he then hums, “but maybe that’ll change once there’s actually new first year students to teach. you both are assigned to them after all.”

you lean back in your seat, your shoulders committing to a halfhearted shrug. “maybe. it’s not like i never did anything bad to him though..”

nanami sighs gruffly. “don’t think about it too much.” before he can continue, there’s the sound of footsteps. nanami brings his newspaper back up, muttering, “speak of the devil.”

“nanamiiii!” gojo’s voice sounds from around the corner. it almost startles you how lively he sounds. you realize you’ve never actually heard or seen how he acts without you around.

nanami doesn’t respond, rolling his eyes.

gojo strolls in enthusiastically, blindfold on. “heyy, nanami, we should-” he cuts off when he presumably sees you, falling quiet and stopping short.

you blink, a bit hurt. does he dislike you that much? but you don’t let it show, resorting to greeting him politely like you usually do when you occasionally pass each other.

“good afternoon, gojo,” you muse, offering a little wave.

nanami notices his reaction too, but doesn’t comment on it. he continues to ignore the sorcerer’s presence in fact, eyes still roaming over the newspaper.

gojo clears his throat and resumes his pace. “afternoon,” he responds, focusing his attention back on nanami. he reaches the two of you, giving you no further acknowledgment.

you don’t care if he can see you looking at him, you opt to stare at the black blindfold covering his face. you have a hunch that he can see, or at least feel, you staring at him.

“can i borrow you for a sec, nanami?”

nanami emits an exasperated sigh, but stands nonetheless to follow gojo out of the room for some discussion not meant for your ears apparently, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

do you make gojo uncomfortable? you don’t know what you could’ve possibly done so though. from what you’ve heard from the others, he can be rather eccentric and overbearing.

does he just not like you? perhaps he views you as inferior, too below his level and power to actually converse with you. while it seems a bit of a stretch, you’re sure it’s not out of the possibility also based on what you’ve heard about him from others.

your frown returns. before you can dwell on it any longer, nanami comes back into the room. “well, i certainly see what you mean from what you said about gojo earlier,” he announces.

his words do nothing to falter your frown. “right.” you then shrug once more, “it’s okay. it’s just a bit.. strange.” you then shake your head, trying to be a bit optimistic. “but also like you said earlier, that might change! who knows?”

who knows, indeed.

megumi tucks the cursed tools inside their designated box and closes the lid. he moves on to the next one right as gojo enters the shed, beaming a smile.

“hey, megumi. you almost done wrapping up things here?” satoru asks, undoing his blindfold naturally. there’s a pair of glasses in his hand ready for use.

the teen nods. they had used a few cursed tools during training session today, and the storage did need a bit of tidying up. “almost done.”

satoru makes a noise of approval as he places his glasses on. “great! do you need help setting up your dorm room?” he looks excited at the idea, still grinning.

meanwhile, megumi looks disinterested at his offer. “no thanks. i think it’ll be easy enough. it’s not like i’m decorating it anyway.”

“oh, boo.” but gojo doesn’t insist on it any further. he actually falls strangely quiet, which causes megumi to glance at him curiously.

his teacher looks.. distraught. it’s hard to actually tell, but he seems to be looking at the floor, maybe lost in thought. before megumi can say anything, gojo’s expression changes and he starts talking again.

“you’re, uh, with the new teacher for tomorrow,” gojo then informs. he shoves his hands into his pockets and kicks at the floor absentmindedly. (he’s fidgeting. subtly.) “it’ll just be you two, i think, on a small mission. so they can get used to actually working with students on field. it’ll be good for the both of you.”

megumi nods. he tilts his head afterward. “you can say their name, you know. it won’t kill you,” he says a bit pointedly, “and they’re not technically new anymore. it has been a few weeks now since they’ve joined the school.”

“right, right.” megumi’s face scrunches up as gojo’s hand comes down to ruffle his hair gently. (a habit that has not died since his younger days.) “whatever you say, megumi.”

despite your minimal interactions and his rather closed off demeanor, megumi is actually one of your favorite students. (and yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have favorites, but oh well.)

your mission with megumi, or rather, the mission you’ve been assigned to supervise the student on, is rather simple.

there’s been reports of a low grade curse roaming the premises of a supermarket neighboring a nearby cemetery, so megumi is to obviously exorcise it under your watch. the area has been closed off with a small veil. megumi had decided to check the parking lot first for any lingering traces, so here you are.

“i think we’re good here,” the teenager confirms as his demon dogs return to his feet, seemingly in the clear. you nod and let him lead the way towards the inside of the store.

as the two of you begin to walk down each aisle with one of the demon dogs trailing behind, megumi says your name in an inquisitive tone. “what do you think of gojo-sensei?”

the sudden question has you blinking in surprise. your eyes scan megumi as you both continue to trek down the aisle. “what makes you ask?”

“no reason.” he doesn’t meet your gaze.

you bite down on your lip in contemplation. you’re not sure what brings this question to mind for him, but you’re willing to indulge him for now. “well.. i think he’s.. alright.” you pause. “as a sorcerer, i admire his strength. though, i think a lot of people think that obviously.”

“and as a person?” megumi presses, turning to investigate the next aisle. he still doesn’t glance over to you, still preoccupied with searching for the curse.

(hell, for a teenager, he sure is perceptive.)

you choose your words carefully, thinking it over with a brief pause.

“i’ll admit, i don’t think i know him well enough to be sure. as a person, i think he’s.. self-centered and rude. sometimes, i see him act very carefree in a way. he’s.. obscure, i guess.” you clear your throat and reiterate, “but again, i don’t really... know him.”

you can see megumi go over your words silently. the quiet continues. the conversation seems to be dying, but it doesn’t matter when monstrous gurgling sounds up ahead.

a curse appears in front of you, the shelving of the aisles toppling over as it gargles some unintelligible roar. megumi doesn’t hesitate, using his technique to summon his demon dogs once more to swiftly engage in combat.

the fight is easily handled in three minutes top. (they weren’t kidding when they said it’d be easy.)

after the commotion has settled, you allow megumi to do one more check up around the store just in case. just as you are prepared to exit and bring down the veil, you decide it’s your turn to ask him now.

“and what about you, megumi?” you inquire lightly, giving one of the demon dogs a few head pats for their good work. “what exactly do you think of gojo?”

megumi hums.

“i agree with most of what you said actually,” he answers honestly, causing you to chuckle in amusement. the teenager tilts his head and finally looks at you. “but i also think he’s kind when he wants to be.”

his frontward honesty surprises you once more. this kid sure is something. you believe his words; he has no reason to lie to you, especially about gojo of all things. still, you poke at him teasingly, “really now?”

you don’t really expect him to answer, but then megumi says in a mumble so quiet that you nearly miss it.

“well, he did sort of raise me after all.”

“i just don’t think he likes me, shoko,” you puff out a sigh, watching as she puffs out smoke. “i’ve seen the way he is around other people, and he’s not like that with me.”

she’s on break right now, so you thought you could talk to her about a certain blindfolded sorcerer who’s been plaguing your thoughts.

it’s interesting to hear about the different sides of gojo satoru from your peers. from nanami, you’ve learned that he’s pretentious and troublesome. from megumi, that he can be caring in his own way. and shoko?

“he’s crazy.” the doctor waves her cigarette at you with a shrug of her shoulders. “but it beats me on why he doesn’t particularly like you.”

you groan, slouching in one of the chairs set up in the infirmary. “maybe i should’ve stayed in kyoto,” you mumble. it’s more of a joke than anything; your.. weird terms with gojo isn’t enough to actually deter you.

but shoko puts the cigarette back to her lips and tilts her head. “want me to ask him about it?”

you straighten your posture abruptly and look at her. “what? you don’t have to. he might think i asked you to or something.”

she shrugs again. “your call.”

your brows furrow. “maybe we just got off on the wrong foot somehow. even though all i did was shake his hand.” you snort. “maybe i can get him something to break the ice. what does he like?”

shoko doesn’t even hesitate. “sweets. he likes his sweets.”

oh. oh, okay! you blink and nod. who would’ve thought? the strongest sorcerer in the world likes sweets. “i can handle sweets.”

you, in fact, cannot handle sweets.

why are there so many? you’re at a local bakery staring at the rows and rows of pastries they have on display, looking as if you’re trying the decipher the world’s hardest math problem.

shoko never specified what kind of sweets he liked during your conversation with her a couple days ago. cake? ice cream? cookies? you might as well buy the whole damn store at this point with your luck. the last thing you want is to buy him something he won’t actually eat.

“oh, fuck it,” you mutter and finally decide on a small piece of cake. it happens to be your favorite kind of cake, but oh well. if he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it! it’s the thought that matters anyway, right?

as you exit the shop with your newly acquired dessert, you try to devise a way to give it to him. do you just.. hand it to him? or maybe it’ll be better to leave it in his office. or have shoko give it to him!

ughh, who knew how hard it’d be to give a man a cake? okay, okay. you’ll simply give it to him in person since he’ll know it’s directly from you. problem solved.

well, actually, problem is not solved. how are you supposed to give the cake to gojo in person when you have absolutely no clue where he is right now? after returning to the school, he’s no where to be found, so you eventually turn to yaga for help.

“he’s on a mission where??”

you stare at yaga with wide eyes as he names some city so far away you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to find an affordable ride to get you there in a reasonable amount of time.

“oh, alright,” you say, feeling a little disappointed. the cake suddenly feels a little too big and heavy in your hands.

the principal’s gaze flickers down to your little intended treat for his former student. “these kinds of missions are no trouble for satoru. i’m sure he’ll be back soon, so you can leave that in his office.”

you brighten up at that and nod. “thank you, yaga.” you then dismiss yourself with a polite bow after he informs you where gojo’s office is exactly, and you start to make your way there.

it’s only a few minutes until you get there. you open the door and catch sight of a desk. it looks rather plain, which is understandable since it doesn’t seem like he uses this space often. (though, there is a chair that looks more expensive than your entire rent.)

either way, you walk inside and set the container down on the desk with a small sigh. hopefully the gesture is appreciated! if he really does have a sweet tooth like shoko says, you’re not sure why he’d turn it down. again, you can only hope.

you sigh again and turn to leave when the sound of the door creaking open sounds again. you freeze in place when it swings out fully, revealing the very man you were thinking about.

(yaga was not kidding when he said that gojo finishes his missions pretty fast.)

gojo perks up at the sight of you in his office, and even with his blindfold on, you can tell he’s got a surprised look on his face. “can i help you.. or do you have a reason on why you’re snooping around in my office?” he inquires, walking in.

while not evidently hostile, his appearance and words suddenly have you anxious. “oh, well, i-’’ you want to mentally smack yourself for fumbling over your words. “i’m sorry for intruding. i, uh, just wanted to leave you a little something.”

it’s only then does gojo look past you and makes a small noise. you can’t really decipher it, but you watch as he walks by you to open the small packaging to see the slice of cake meant for him.

and when he makes a small noise again, you can tell it’s one of delight. “you got me.. cake?” he asks, looking to you again questioningly.

“i did,” you clarify with a small nod, summoning a small smile and rubbing the back of your neck a bit sheepishly, “i didn’t know what kind of sweet you would like, so i just ended up choosing my favorite cake. um, i really hope you don’t mind the flavor, but if you don’t you really don’t have to eat it so-”

“kikufuku.”

you stare at him, confused. “what?”

“kikufuku,” satoru reiterates, and it’s his turn to smile. (it nearly catches you off guard because although very small, it’s pretty.) “s’my favorite. or.. one of my favorite sweets. crepes are good too.”

his newfound friendliness has you smiling a bit more evidently, pleased that this interaction is your most pleasant one with him so far in the weeks you’ve been here. “oh, okay,” you chuckle, “noted.”

gojo opens the container and unwraps the plastic fork that had came with it. he takes a bite of the cake and hums in approval. “can see why it’s your favorite. it’s not bad.”

your face lightens up at that. “oh, i’m glad.”

he hums, popping another slice of cake into his mouth. “any particular reason on why you’ve decided to give me cake, if i may ask?”

you falter once more, now nervous in telling that you’re hoping to.. resolve this one-sided tension with you. ultimately, you decide to be straightforward, inhaling deeply and looking at him. (well, his blindfold.)

“well, i’m not an idiot, gojo. you haven’t exactly been.. friendly to me. i’m not trying to win you over or anything, but if we’re going to work together with the first year students, consider this a gift for a truce. or um, a peace offering so we can act somewhat decent with each other.”

the white-haired sorcerer falls silent at your confrontation. you’re half expecting him to brush you off and walk out of the room entirely. especially since he seems to have stiffen up (similarly to the way when you first met, you had noticed).

he seems to contemplate for a bit. you don’t know where he’s looking at; the floor, the cake in his hands, you? it’s suddenly nerve-wracking.

“you’re right,” he finally speaks up, “i.. i’m sorry for my previous behavior towards you. can we start over?” he places the cake aside and walks back over to you to hold out his hand.

“gojo satoru.”

your eyes flicker to his blindfold to his hand, then back to where his eyes are hidden underneath. the rumored powerful and breaktaking six eyes concealed from your ever so curious sight.

against your better judgment, you repeat your name and take his hand.

“it’s nice to meet you, gojo.”

your new relationship with gojo is steadily becoming better. he’s no longer curt with you, and actually engages in conversations even with no other people around.

though, you can’t help but feel like he’d avoiding looking at you for some reason. which is pretty far off since you can’t technically see where he’s looking, but it’s a hunch you have nonetheless.

but hey, it’s progress, progress that you’re somewhat happy about.

like now, as satoru leans over your shoulder to peer at the clipboard in your hands. you’ve just finished wrapping up a lesson with the soon-to-be second years out on the field.

“ooh, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow, teach?” he pries.

“assistant teach,” you remind him teasingly, going over the contents of the clipboard. “more sparring. oh, and the registration for that new first year.”

“the one from the countryside?” gojo hums.

you nod. “yep. a.. kugasaki nobara. we won’t actually get to meet her, but arrangements for her arrival are getting finalized.”

“oh, boo. s’just more paperwork,” the sorcerer beside you whines, kicking at the grass.

“at least megumi isn’t the only one now,” you point out and finally turn to him.

just as you expected, satoru glances away to look at panda and toge finishing up. you squint at him narrowly but don’t comment on it.

“that’s true. not like that kid cares anyway, but it’ll be good for him,” gojo agrees airily, shoving his hands into his pockets.

you eye him. “hey, gojo?”

“yeah?” his head remains turned to the students. (further proving your point! you feel like you’re collecting evidence here; the gojo satoru cannot look at you in the eye!)

you hesitate. “wanna grab some kikufuku?”

he perks up at that. (like a puppy, really. it almost makes you laugh.) “mm, whatever happened to not trying to win me over with sweets?” he teases.

you laugh at that then, shaking your head in soft denial. “no- that’s not what i-”

“well, you did said kikufuku.." satoru interrupts you with a dramatic sigh and heave of his shoulders, “so how could i ever possibly resist?”

satoru doesn’t dare to look down at you.

“care to join me?”

but you smile up at him cheekily, and he hates the way the sunlight is hitting your features just right. it looks like the color of your eyes is glistening.

you’re just.. lying down on the grass of one of the training fields, admiring the drifting formations of white clouds on the blue canvas that is the sky.

satoru keeps telling himself that shouldn’t be doing this. his first mistake was accepting your cake. allowing himself to get closer to you. but when you look at him like that, he feels like he can do anything. which is odd, becaues really, he can do anything. it goes without saying as his status as the strongest.

but with you, it’s starting to feel a bit different.

when he doesn’t give you an immediate answer, you tilt your head and continue to blink up at him. “you can see the sky even with your blindfold on, right?”

he snorts. “yeah, i can.”

you pat the space on the grass next to you welcomingly, a beckoning that he just can’t resist again. “well, come on and join me,” you persist.

he hesitates, shifting his weight on his legs for a moment. against his better judgement, he joins you. it’s surprisingly comfortable, he finds, as he kicks out his legs and sighs.

it’s a comfortable silence that it’s almost startling. how easy it is just to be around you. (which is the exact reason why he had been avoiding you in the start, in fear of slipping up around you. he still might.)

“you get headaches, right? if you don’t cover your eyes.”

he chuckles at your question. “yeah.” it’s a half truth, half lie. he does get headaches, but for another reason now. you can’t get out of his head. (he’s got a suspicious feeling it’s because the soulmate bond is incomplete. but again, that’s just a theory of his.)

“‘m’sorry. that sucks.” you pout subconscously, still looking up at the sky to admire it.

he scoffs fondly, clapsing his hands over his stomach. “it’s no biggie. you think headaches can take down gojo satoru?”

“hey now, tough guy. they can take down me sometimes.”

(he’d fight off headaches from you if he could.) his heart is thudding against his ribcage, warning him. but he doesn’t heed the warning, and continues to lay down with you on the grass.

it’s a nice feeling. he doesn’t feel like the greatest sorcerer in the world with his colleague. it feels like he’s just satoru, pointing out the different shapes and animals you can spot in the sky with his soulmate.

“hey, that one looks like you!”

“hah?!”

“i’m guessing you and gojo-sensei are getting along now,” megumi bluntly comments.

it catches you off guard slightly, and you can’t help but laugh. (of course he had noticed how the both of you interacted from the beginning.) “oh, uh, yeah.”

and as you watch satoru go down the steps of the stairs to head over to you both whilst waving an arm with much more enthusiam than needed, you can’t help but smile.

“yeah, we are.”

this is a mistake. he shouldn’t be doing this.

but satoru can’t help but be so selfish, selfish in indulging in your looks, in your scarce touches. when you had confronted him with your peace offering as you had so called it, he had given in.

and now he’s spending more time with you. be it after lessons with the students, on random days where you have nothing to do, during weekends when there’s no authorities to bother him—he can’t help it.

was it the bond wanting to be complete? you were still unaware of his true identity, of what he could possibly mean to you, so why does he feel like he needs to be so close? he gets antsy at times when you’re not in his sight. it’s starting to affect him.

the soulmate bond, or lack of it—that has to be the only explanation for it. because he knows that you’re his soulmate, he’s subconsciously drawn to you and your presence. (it’s definitely not because he likes the way you smile, or laugh, or-)

fuck.

after a relatively tough mission, you’re obviously sent to see shoko. you’re not fatally harmed, maybe a scratch here and there. and okay, maybe a gash on your shoulder..

it had been enough to sort of knock you off your feet, but you’re fine. totally. exorcising a semi grade two curse at 1 a.m. in the morning was no biggie at this point.

once she’s finished tending to your wound, she dusts off her hands and places them on her hips. “you’re all set.”

you smile gratefully. “thanks, sho. can always count you to patch me up.”

she snorts. “well, it is my job.”

gojo suddenly appears right next to the table and you yelp, startled by his teleportation. shoko, on the other hand, looks unfazed, as if she’s used to this.

“gojo!” you blink, your voice taking a scolding tone soon after, “geez, you scared me! what’re you still doing awake??”

the blindfolded man falters, looking apologetic. “sorry. heard you got back from your mission.” he sounds worried, but before he can voice his concern, shoko rolls her eyes.

“they’ll be fine,” she says.

gojo’s shoulders finally drop down and he plays off his previous display of concern with a laugh. “ahaha, yeahhh, i knew that,” he scoffs with a wave of his hand, “i can’t bless you two with my presence?”

shoko gives him a displeased look before she turns around to tidy up her tools. you chuckle at her annoyance. “thanks for checking up on me, satoru,” you say sincerely. your eyes go over his appearance; he’s dressed more casually: a pair of dark slacks and shirt that expose his collarbones. not that you’re.. particularly looking.

but his shoulders seem tense again at your words and he hums quietly. (huh, strange. at least he’s not refusing to look at you anymore, you think.)

“well, i say this calls for a little celebration,” satoru suddenly purrs in delight, waving his hands in the air.

“celebration? for me getting kinda beat up?” you blow a raspberry at him, only for him to blow one at you right back. even though you had done it first, you can’t help but giggle at his childish antics.

he grins at that, then shakes his head. “heyy, i heard you beat up a semi grade two curse!” he says, “i think that does call for a celebration, does it not?”

you stare at him, unsure on whether he’s joking or not. wait, how did he even know that? well, maybe he had gone through the mission reports and assignments. still, you’re surprised that he knows. “you can wipe those out in less than a minute, gojo,” you point out with a raised brow, “don’t try and humor me.”

his grin lessens. “well, yeah, s’kinda easy for me, but i think that goes without saying. you’re telling me don’t wanna celebrate an accomplishment of yours?”

you look to shoko who is almost finished with cleaning up. she just shrugs. you look back to satoru and shrug yourself whilst rolling your eyes. “alright, we can celebrate.”

gojo fist bumps the air. and here you are again, giggling at him.

eventually, when he leads you out of the infirmary and to the teachers’ lounge. he digs through one of the fridges and hands you a bottle of what seems to be alcohol.

“i didn’t even know this was allowed here,” you mumble, settling down on what of the high chairs near the counter. you wiggle in your seat to get comfortable as gojo takes the one next to you.

you offer it to him but he shakes his head, nose scrunching up a little. “i don’t drink.”

“wasn’t this your idea?” you blink. “suit yourself, more for me.” you shrug and open the bottle to pour yourself a glass. and another. and another. and then another.

(you don’t know what particularly drives you to keep drinking as you talk with him, but perhaps it’s the way you know that satoru’s eyes are lingering just underneath the blindfold. you can practically feel his stare.)

and gojo watches you gradually drink yourself to being mildly drunk.

“okay, no more for you,” he laughs as he takes the bottle away from you and holding it above your head when you try to reach for it.

“awh, man.” you pout and rest your head on your arms on the table, looking at him the best you can. “you meanie. you got me drunk on purpose. give it back.”

he snickers, amused and endeared by your drunk antics as he pushes the bottle aside. “sorry. you’ll thank me later, pretty.”

pretty. he’s never called you that before. you wanna hear him say it again. (amongst some other things.)

“pretty.. you’re pretty. i bet your eyes are pretty too,” you say into your sleeve, your other hand reaching out to his blindfold, “everyone else says they’re v’ry pretty.”

he leans back to avoid your hand, heart pounding in his chest a little too loud for his liking. he wonders if you can hear it. “sure. i guess they are,” he says softly with a small chuckle.

“i wonder who my soulmate is,” you then mumble out. maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s your incoherent slurring, but you sound.. sad.

before he can dwell on it, you’re slurring out another question that has come to your head.

“d’you have a soulmate?”

satoru’s eyes widen under the blindfold. he knows that you’re drunk. that you’re just saying things. but your hazy eyes stare up at him with a glint that makes his heart lurch.

and you won’t remember a thing in the morning, right?

before he can answer, you’re out like a light.

you wake up in the morning with a splitting headache.

with a groan, you sit up in what seems to be a bed that seems way to be to be your own, legs kicking the sheets that had been draped over you in alarm.

you have no idea where you are, but there’s a glass of water along with some painkillers on the nightstand beside you, which you down gratefully. there’s also the smell of food coming from outside the room.

you can piece two and two together that you’re probably in the home of someone you know.. your brain racks for information of what had happened last night but it’s only causing it to ache even more.

gojo.

you shake your head and make your way to what seems to be the bathroom to tidy yourself up. you notice that your’re still clad in your clothes of last night, so gojo had done the courtesy of tucking you in.

after you’re done, you take a deep breath and head outside.

you navigate your way down the hallway and follow the smell of food. as you turn the corner, you catch the sight of satoru in the kitchen. not that you doubted that the greatest sorcerer could cook, but for some reason, he looks so domestic.

he’s simply wearing sweats and a loose fitting shirt, your back turned to you as he tends to the stove, but the mere sight of it has your heart leaping into your throat. you have a feeling that it’s a sight meant for you, for you to see.

you don’t no how long you stand there, but suddenly a laugh rings through the kitchen from satoru teasingly. “take a picture, sweetheart, it’ll last longer.”

you yelp, embarrassed. (sweetheart? you try not to think about it, but you hate the way it makes your heart leap again. he’s just.. messing with you.) “erm.. sorry. good morning, gojo.” you approach the kitchen and take a seat at the counter.

when he finally turns to you, he’s not wearing his usual black blindfold, but instead what seems to be white bandages. you haven’t seen it on him before, but you don’t comment on it though.

he says good morning back before serving you some food, which you thank him for gratefully. “thank you for the painkillers too. i didn’t do anything embarrassing last night, did i?” you inquire, half jokingly.

you try to remember what had happened last night, but your memories are still a bit hazy. all you can recall is talking with him about things and staring at him. (you’re not going to tell him that though.)

“nah,” he waves off, “just told me your darkest secrets, s'all.”

you straighten up. “what?”

“kidding, kidding!” he snickers.

you groan and drag your plate to you. “i didn’t know you could cook.”

satoru looks mildly offended, emitting a dramatic gasp as he waves the spatula at you in a petulant manner. “hey now, i’m no expert. but i can at least make some sort of breakfast.”

(he totally did not look up a tutorial on how to cook for you. definitely not. but he’s a natural at everything, so at least his naturally gifted skill is in his favor this time.)

“thank you, gojo.” a smile tugs at the edges of your mouth.

“satoru.”

“what?”

“c’mon, you’re literally eating breakfast in my kitchen,” he laughs, sliding a mug of coffee (probably with extra cream and sugar because it’s gojo) towards you across the counter. “satoru’s fine.”

you test the name on your tongue, paying little attention to the way it makes the man before you stiffen up as you grab the coffee. “satoru.. thanks, satoru.” you think you can get used to saying that.

(he does too.)

satoru turns away back to the stove. “you’re welcome.”

“hey satoru, what did you say what you wanted again? i’m thinking bubble tea but i dunno..”

he likes the way his name sounds from you.

“uh, satoru? satoru? helloo, earth to gojo satoru? satoru!”

oh.

fuck, he hadn’t realized he had spaced out. gojo lifts his head in a sudden motion, making a surprised noise. he smiles sheepishly. “what’s up?”

“you feeling alright, satoru?” you tilt your head.

keep saying his name.

“awhh, i’m feeling more than alright, sweetheart.” he shoots you a grin, liking the way your eyes reflect the café lights, giving it a warm hue. “i’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“you seem to be in a good mood lately,” megumi points out. ijichi, in the front see, looks at the two of them through the rear view in silent agreement.

(a lot of people have noticed actually.)

gojo pauses, halfway through unwrapping the plastic of a popsicle. it’s the same one he used to consume during his youth, but his taste really hasn’t changed after all this time. “oh?”

the teenager eyes him narrowly. “yeah.”

gojo merely hums and pops the icy treat into his mouth.

“heh, i guess i am.”

you can hear gojo and shoko’s voices coming from the infirmary, causing you to smile absentmindedly. you didn’t think you’d be enjoying their company this much in the recent months—especially satoru’s.

(strangely, it feels so natural to be around him, you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same. you try to write it off as spending so much time together for a while now, but you can’t lie when you say he doesn’t make the stomach churn with butterflies.)

you turn the corner and announce your presence to the two with a smile and wave. you catch sight of them when they glance over to you, noticing something different.

shoko is wearing her usual white coat with a cigarette in hand, but she’s got her hair tied up in a rare bun to keep any strands from her face.

but that’s not what’s different as your gaze strays to the man next to her, the familiar frame of gojo catching you a bit off guard.

he’s wearing his glasses.

you’ve never seen him wear anything but his blindfold.

how does he look even more breathtaking than without it? you can’t see his eyes still, no—it’s a deep, deep shade of blue that still blocks his gaze from anyone else. but it’s a more casual look, seeing as his hair isn’t being help up and a few strands fall down and you can see his sharp facial features a bit more and-

and then he’s gone.

you audibly make a sound of confusion and hurt, because one moment he’s there and the next he’s no where to be seen. he had vanished without a single world.

he’s fucking avoiding you again; the realization of it makes your throat close up. after all you had been through with satoru.

“what the fuck was that?”

shoko stares at the space gojo had just been standing, just as lost as you.

there’s a distance between the two of you again. it’s painstakingly familiar to when you had first met gojo and he had kept himself strictly professional with you.

and you don’t know why.

it’s back to the cold shoulder from him; you’re seeing him less and less around campus, and those times where you did hang out off duty are practically a thing of the past now.

satoru is going to be the death of you one day, you’re sure of it.

and you and satoru aren’t even.. a thing.

then again, you’re not even sure what you are. you’re friends, yes, that’s much more than clear, but why does it feel so much more intimate than that despite the fact that the two of you have never even done anything?

however.. a part of you knows that you want more. more of those days lying in the grass with him, more of those mornings eating breakfast with him in his home, more of those afternoon café runs, more of everything with satoru.

is that why does it hurts so much now that he’s pushed you away again?

satoru is praying that you’re not in there with shoko as he approaches the infirmary a week later. she had called him over, and though he could’ve easily refused, he found himself obliging anyway.

“hey, what was that the other day?”

shoko is blunt and straight to the point once he arrived, striking him with a petulant and expectant gaze with her tired eyes.

gojo blinks innocently, tilting his head at shoko. “what was what?”

shoko then rolls her eyes. “you know what i’m talking about. what was that. you just- walked out like they we’re going to kill you or something.”

that’s the thing. you just might.

the white-haired man frowns and continues to feign innocence. he’s starting to wonder why he bothered coming here. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

his avoidance causes shoko to frown as well and she crosses her arms. “you’re doing the same thing that you did with them when they first joined here.”

when he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “avoiding them, pushing them away. i thought you didn’t have any problems with them. at this point, make up your mind because you’re just toying with their feelings and it’s not going to-”

“we’re soulmates,” satoru blurts out.

shoko is cut off, staring at him all wide-eyed for once. “you’re kidding.”

satoru falters. “i’m not. s’why i always wear the blindfold. and that’s why i.. i ran that night. just my glasses was too risky.”

what if he had angled his head the wrong way, what if you saw his eyes, what if you finally realized that you were fated to be together at the whims of the universe? he couldn’t do that to you.

“how long have you-”

“since we first met. i.. i could see it because of six eyes,” he explains, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know why. i didn’t think i could have another one after-”

the two fall quiet at the mention of suguru, a heavy feeling hanging in the air between them.

“what are you going to do?” shoko asks quietly.

satoru sounds wrecked. “..i don’t know.”

“well.” shoko smushes her cigarette against the surface of the metal table. “you better do something before it’s too late.”

unfortunately, the higher ups have also noticed.

(the push and pull that has been going on between the pride of the gojo clan and a random transferred sorcerer from kyoto. nothing goes unseen by their tight hold on jujutsu society.)

and you are none the wiser when you’re an assigned a mission late so at night, at a secluded edge of tokyo. you would’ve questioned it, but after looking over the details, it seems easy enough since it was a low level curse.

ijichi drops you off near the location and bids you luck. the night is dark, with the shape of the moon only peaking out every now and then due to the clouds to offer minimum light, and then the veil is coming up.

it’s fine though, as you start walking to get this over with. the faster, the better.

what the fuck? the cursed energy here is much stronger than you had anticipated, almost as if it’s suffocating. now uneasy, you continue your search with more caution.

a low growl sounds from somewhere behind you, and you turn on heel to brace yourself in case the curse decides to catch you off guard with an unexpected attack.

your heart drops.

it’s a grade one curse.

something’s not right.

satoru can feel it. he can sense it in the air. something is lingering, a presence that makes even him feel uneasy, and he doesn’t know why. nothing makes him feel uneasy. but it’s a gut feeling, it’s the bond tugging and tugging and-

you.

something’s not right.

and then gojo is teleporting and finding ijichi in record time, giving the poor man a scare. gojo’s voice is on edge and leaves no room for argument as he demands the assistant director where he had driven you minutes prior. the veil still stands, undisturbed.

fuck, fuck, fuck- shoko was right. he should’ve done something before it was too late, because now it might actually be too late as he steps through the veil.

it’s too quiet for his liking, but the lingering silence only lasts for a few heartbeats before he hears you scream.

you’re going to die.

you don’t want to think that, but you’re definitely not going to make it out of this unscathed as you dodge the curse’s scarily accurate attacks, as if it knows where you’re going to move and land.

the curse screeches out something ugly, and you’re too stunned to react in time as one of its malformed limbs swings down with a speed that you can’t comprehend.

your throat cries for help even as the air out of your lungs, but then there’s the sudden brilliant flash of red that blinds your vision.

satoru?

you can’t see and your body aches everywhere while the sounds of the curse fade out. it’s replaced by the sound of someone speaking frantically. it is satoru as he crouches down at you, hands coming to lift you up gently. his infinity is off. “hey, hey it’s me,” he voices, “it’s me, sweetheart.”

satoru, it’s satoru. satoru is here.

you emit a sigh of relief, cloudy vision gradually focusing. you try and focus it on satoru, tracing over his features repeatedly, trying to engrave it into your memory.

“shit. those damn higher ups,” gojo grits his teeth into an angered scowl. the higher ups? were they behind this? you don’t know, but you know that you’ve ever seen him this furious before. “i am going to rip those old geezers apart limb from li-”

“satoru, we need to head back.”

he looks dazed, tufts of snowy hair now hanging a bit loosely over his blindfold compared to when it’s normally pushed upright. he even sounds dazed, the great gojo satoru, when he says, “yeah. yeah, okay.”

he’s holding on to you tight and suddenly everything seems to get blurry for less than a second before you blink. you realize he’s teleported you both not to the school, not to shoko’s infirmary, but to his penthouse.

the interior is at least familiar: white walls, a little messy, a couple of decorations, and—

“my place,” he clarifies, as if he had read your thoughts. he sets you down on his couch, uncaring if you’re staining the color of the cushions. but he doesn’t let go, hands still cradling your form so tight that you don’t know if you’re still shaking or that he is.

“are you okay?” you utter out weakly and scan him for any injuries while clutching at his arms, which is ridiculous because he’s untouchable. but you’re not in the right mind right now, and you have a feeling he isn’t either.

“i should be the one asking you that,” he retorts, and you also have the feeling he’s doing the same thing with you with the help of his six eyes.

“i’m alright,” you try to reassure him with a small shake of your head. it only aids you in wincing, but the pain is the last thing on your mind. especially with him here. “it’s fine.”

“it’s not fine,” he argues, his hold tightening even more on you, if that was even possible. is that a slight tremor in his voice? “you almost died.”

“and why do you care?” it’s not a malicious question from you. it’s more of confusion, of genuine. after all you’ve been through with satoru, you’re not sure where he stands. what he feels.

he seems startled by your question, like he can’t believe you could ask such a thing. “of course i care! why-”

you clench your fists in your lap, eyes tracing over his face repeatedly. “i don’t know what you want anymore from me, satoru! you’re not- you’re not telling me the truth.”

“i didn’t want to hurt you,” he tells you hoarsely. god, you wish you could see what he’s thinking. what’s going on in that head of his.

“you did hurt me.”

gojo trembles. “i know.”

“you seem to know a lot of things.” your voice sounds tired. your hand goes to rest on his chest, where you can faintly feel his heartbeat underneath. (oh, to be the only one who can touch gojo satoru like this.) “what are you hiding from me?”

“i can’t hide anything from you.” he draws a slow intake of breath. he then whispers,

“but how am i supposed to tell you that we’re soulmates?”

your heart skips a beat.

gojo satoru is your soulmate?

astonished, you now stare at him with wide eyes. “why- why didn’t you tell me??” you ask, voice cracking. to think, all this time, your soulmate had been right there, right beside you, right in front of you.

then it all clicks. his off-standish behavior, his reluctant interactions, his avoidance. his blindfold. he didn’t want you to see his eyes.

he’s known all this time somehow—and oh, oh. his six eyes. your lips part in realization as you stare hard, as if you could see his damned eyes beneath the cloth that hides you from the truth.

“i thought that if you knew that we were soulmates, you’d-” satoru shakes his head. “something always happens to the people i love.” he hesitates, “you still have a chance. you can find someone else.”

“what if i don’t want someone else??” you say out softly in protest, gripping the lapels of his uniform.

gojo shakes his head again. despite this, he doesn’t let you go. like he can’t, like he doesn’t want to. “we’re not bonded yet,” he says your name shakily, “please.”

still gripping the collar of his uniform, you tug him closer to you desperately. it’s so clear, so obvious that he wanted this.

“satoru, have you thought about what i wanted?” you breathe out, feeling tears well up in your eyes, “that maybe, there’s a chance that i want to take the risk? that i want to be bonded to you?”

your eyes flicker down to his lips momentarily. “that i want you too?”

satoru’s breath stutters.

“you haven’t seen my eyes.”

you cup satoru’s face in your hands, swiping your thumb under the space where his eye is hidden with a fierce tenderness that makes him listen.

“satoru, i didn’t need to see your eyes to fall in love with you.”

your confession has him stilling.

(all the times he had stiffened up in your presence, he had been falling for you, bit by bit. you know that now.)

his hand comes to cover yours, the one that’s still resting on his cheek, fingers smoothing over your knuckles. and then his hand continues to go up, up, up, and-

he tugs the blindfold up and over his head, revealing his eyes to you at last.

his eyes are gorgeous, a blue that seems to spill into your vision and take over your senses. a blue that you can get lost in, a blue that reminds you of the summer sky, a blue that tethers your soul to his, and you both can feel it.

the bond between you is so electrifying that you nearly forget how to breathe.

and then satoru is surging forward, closer, even closer, until your breath is his and you forget how to breathe for a whole different reason entirely.

he’s kissing you.

he kisses you like you might disappear right before him, his head angling into yours to capture your lips with a force that makes your world spin.

and you return it tenfold, one hand still cradling his face while the other sneaks to dig its fingers into his undercut, and he’s making a noise into your mouth with fervor.

you’re all too aware of his heat against you, the frantic touches he’s now giving into as he draws you closer. the surface of the sofa dissipates into nothingness and then-

suddenly he’s teleporting you both again—or maybe he’s kissing you dizzy. but you realize you’re now in space that’s not overly familiar with you, but you can tell it’s most likely his bedroom based off of the feel of the lush satin sheets underneath you.

less than an hour ago you were fighting for your life, and now you’re fighting for your life on gojo satoru’s bed.

“satoru, s’toru, wait-” you’re gasping for air, for something as he engulfs you with his presence. he’s everywhere all at once, and it feels as if the bond is intensifying everything he’s doing to you.

“nuh uh. think we’ve both waited long enough for this, baby,” he gasps against your lips, like it’s impossible to be separated from you again, “don’t know how much i wanted this, wanted you. drove me crazy.”

his words makes your head all fuzzy. you don’t even know if it’s the bond anymore, or just the way he makes you feel. maybe even both. your lungs feeling like they’re burning, but even then, you manage to get out,

“you have me, ‘toru, you have me.”

“yeah?” when he pulls back, it’s not even a few inches, his nose brushing against yours. his alluring eyes glimmer in the darkness of the room, and you’re almost so mad that you feel like kissing him again because he’s kept them from you for so long.

your hands hook over his neck again. when your fingers run over his undercut again, you can actually feel him shiver, causing you to giggle in delight. “yeah, ‘toru.”

“yeah, pretty,” he sighs out and he’s losing himself in everything that is you once more so willingly. your eyes, your very being, compels him to give you everything, so he does. “y’have me too. all of me.”

his confession rings through your ears before he’s kissing you again, kissing you breathless. it’s a blur on what happens next; feverish touches and passionate symphonies, but one thing’s for sure,

the magnetic glow of his eyes in the dark of that night is something that you’ll never forget.

as your stir amongst the tousled bedsheets, you can feel the warmth of a certain someone creeping over you, like a cozy cat searching for cuddles.

your eyes peer open to meet the blurry sight of the ceiling, along with the sight of messy white hair tickling your chin.

“good morning to you, sweetheart,” a voice says cheekily, followed by cascading kisses down your jawline, prompting you to giggle softly.

you watch sunlight spill over into the bedroom, engulfing the man above you in an angelic glow as he finally pulls back to look down at you.

so maybe you didn’t fall in love at first sight with gojo satoru.

that’s okay.

cause as you stare up into your soulmate’s pretty ceruleans in the morning light, you think you can fall in love with him like this a little more.

BONUS!

“you owe me.”

nanami drags a hand over his face as he digs into his pocket for his wallet. “this is the first and last time i make a bet with you,” he grumbles.

shoko merely smirks. “you have such little faith in gojo.”

“bet or not, can we go back to before they were together?” nanami looks like he’s close to investing in a pair of one of gojo’s glasses that can block any normal person’s vision.

satoru is clinging onto you like a sloth.

“babyyyyy,” your boyfriend whines, resting his chin on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your torso. you can’t help but giggle, endeared by his clinginess. (he had claimed it was to make up for the way he had acted in the past and for lost time.)

he’s like another part of you now. not that you mind. being his soulmate is everything and more—from the tender touches to the passionate ones, to the talks of everything: to the mundane to the serious. after all, your soul is his, and his soul is yours.

(and then his hands are sneaking off to places they shouldn’t be.)

“‘toru, not here!”

nanami heaves out another sigh as his hand comes to pinch the bridge of his nose. “is it too late to quit being a sorcerer again?”

TAGLIST : @spn-obession , @deepestartisanhumanoidshark , @scarasw1f3 , @kalopsia-flaneur , @90s-belladonna , @peachipeachy , @chrystinaamanda , @kalulakunundrum , @hunnyheavenn , @dekusdante , @dontmindmelove , @cherries-lostgirls , @rv19 , @etherealstarlightqueen

+ a/n: this fic ended up being way no longer than i expected omg.. but thanks to all who asked to be on the taglist !! some didnt work so im sorry about that </3

like this fic? feel free to go ahead and check out my other works here! -> masterlist

[catboyieejeno]

mark lee + domestic

♫ play love it by dean...

waking up on a late morning besides mark who, in his sleep, is subconsciously pressing his soft, pouted lips against your neck or shoulder, nose nuzzling into your warmed skin. he still hasn't woken up, which you realize when those same pouty lips part to let out a series of long and calm exhales. he rolls a little closer to you until minutes later, he eventually blinks his puffy eyelids open, smacking his mouth a few times like a baby does when first stirring awake.

it's too soon to wish you a good morning—he doesn't truly trust his voice to not betray him yet; instead, when your eyes meet for the first time today, the corner of his lips instinctively curve up into a dazed smile, and the hand that rests on your hip gives your flesh a little squeeze in a silent but sweet greeting.

cooking any meal consists of you moving around the kitchen as you gather and assemble your ingredients. meanwhile, mark follows you around, curiously and eagerly. he resembles a puppy trailing behind you. also has a habit of resting his chin on your head or shoulder to watch what you're doing; that, or he's leaning against the nearest structure whenever you linger for too long in a specific area. you're by the sink? he's bent over, resting his weight on his elbows to talk to you. you're at the stove? his hip is pressed into the counter and his arms are crossed, watching intently how you prepare the food.

after, he'll gladly do the dishes (since he isn't much help with the cooking part). the sole condition he insists on is that you have to sit on the countertop beside him and keep him company 'til he's done. he also gets to steal a kiss whenever he pleases, molding his lips over yours for a few seconds too long. he laughs when you scold him for getting distracted or wasting water, then mumbles his apology into your mouth, "m'sorry, baby! s'just hard to focus when you're here, sitting pretty for me,"

chores are usually left for the weekend, where the two of you take turns picking songs and adding them to a never-ending queue to get through the tasks at hand. the two of you are rather good at getting things done quickly, but the moment you plant a kiss on mark's cheek as you pass by, consider your work done for the day, regardless of whether you've finished or not.

you don't make it farther than a foot away before mark has dropped the rag he's holding in order to grab ahold of your waist. he dips his head down and kisses your lips so messily, longingly even, since the last kiss you gave him was not sufficient by any means. then again, he can never really get enough of you. mere moments later, you're pressed up against the wall with each of his hands at your hip bones, the tasks at hand long forgotten as his tongue eagerly explores your mouth.

its easy to get distracted with him, by him. grocery runs tend to be at least an hour longer than they really need to, because despite the fact that you've made a list of 5 simple items, the two of you navigate every aisle anyway and leave with a dozen other things. browsing for shows or movies turns into a conversation about actors and directors and soundtracks, and you never actually get around to picking something. if you do, the content is left unattended by you and mark, who giggle and mutter out jokes between the dialogue to get a smile out of the other, blazing touches left behind on warm skin.

you're undoubtedly his favorite person in the entire world—the one he looks forward to seeing at the start and end of each day, and the one he always tells good news to first. bad news, too. crashes through the front door and drops everything to bid you a warm hello as he rambles on about his day, or comes in and curls up next to you on the couch and expresses his recent frustrations. regardless of whether you give advice or just listen, your presence is soothing enough.

[say-al0e]

Cling

Rating: M | This is smut! Minors, DNI! No one under 18!

Summary: For as long as you could remember, you and Steve have been close. What others see as clingy, Steve sees as comforting, right? Or, you fell in love with your best friend and suddenly, everything is too much. Warnings: Unprotected PinV, oral (f!receiving), blink and you'll miss it angst. Pairing: Steve x fem!Reader Words: 5.5k

Though the sun had long disappeared, dipped below the horizon in a blaze of oranges and reds hours ago, the scent of artificial coconut and chlorine lingered as you lounged beside the Harrington pool.

The kids disappeared with Eddie the moment the sky tinted pink, off to finish a campaign they spent much of the day discussing, and Robin followed soon after with a weak excuse designed to hide her true destination of Vicky’s house - despite the fact that you all knew.

That left you and Steve, always the last two standing.

Steve stretched out on a lounge chair to your left - sunglasses resting atop his head, t-shirt forgotten somewhere in the backyard, garishly patterned swim trunks resting low on his hips. His eyes were closed, chest rising and falling evenly, though you knew he was far from sleep.

Regardless, you took the chance to study him in the rare moment of silence.

The apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose were tinted pink, not burned enough to cause concern but clearly effected by his time in the sun. His hair was wild and beginning to curl, free of gel and still a little damp from his last dip in the pool. The weeks of swimming, back in the pool where he spent so much time growing up, had toned his arms - his shoulders, his stomach, his thighs - and you could see the result of his resumed habits so clearly.

A swath of hair covered his chest, tapered into a faint line that disappeared into the band of his trunks, and you were struck by just how many times you’d been here - sitting to his right, smelling of chlorine and coconut. Over a decade of friendship, more than half your life, and you’d witnessed Steve go from a lanky boy to a confident twenty-something. 

Moments like this reminded you of why your best friend was one of the most sought-after bachelors in Hawkins and why, somewhere along the line, you joined the long list of those desperate for him to give you the time of day.

Only, you were lucky enough to be one of the few that had Steve’s full attention. There was little question that he knew everything - nearly everything, not this, never this - there was to know about you. Even less of a question that you would be sharing his bed later on, though not in the way you’d secretly started to want.

“Quit starin’ at me, creep.” Steve’s voice came then, before you could begin to spiral and question whether you could handle another night of sleeping beside him - wrapped in his embrace, his sheets, his scent - and you hummed.

“Just seeing if I need to get the aloe,” you teased, hoping it sounded as light as you meant it. “Should’ve listened to me, when I told you to put on sunscreen.”

Steve laughed. “You mean I should’ve sat still while you attacked me with it. I would’ve, if you’d given me some warning. Not nice to just start mauling a guy.”

“I know you dream about me mauling you.” The deflection was easy, reflexive, and accompanied by a laugh that rang a touch hollow in your own ears but Steve huffed, good-natured, anyway.

“Hm. Think that’s the other way around.” He cracked open an eye, then, and turned his head to glance at you while you reached for his half-empty beer in an effort to avoid meeting his eyes.

“Please,” you scoffed, though it was weaker than you intended. “I can’t get you to stop touching me.”

Despite his upbringing - or, really, because of it - Steve sought physical affection in those closest to him. It was true that he hadn’t stopped touching you over the course of your friendship, hugs and holding hands and cuddling on the couch. There was never any hesitation, never any awkward shuffling or adjusting. It was as natural as breathing, comfortable, and lately, you savored every brush of his skin against yours.

Still, Steve waved a dismissive hand and reached for the pack of cigarettes he discarded on the table after the kids left. “Sure.” He lit one, fixed you with a teasing grin as he took a drag. “Easy for you to say when you’re the clingiest person I know.”

The observation was not unkind. If anything, it was soft - fond. It was a joke he’d made before, once or twice, but the label ‘clingy’ struck a nerve that he likely had no idea even existed. One that hadn’t existed until recently.

There was a conversation that you weren’t supposed to hear. It was Eddie, asking the kids if he had a chance - whether you and Steve were, you know, a thing - and their varying responses. He only asked because of how close you were, he explained, how often Steve had an arm around you or you clasped his hand in yours.

Someone, you didn’t catch who because the words rang harsh in your ears, dismissed his concerns with the dreaded refusal, “Just friends.” Though another followed it with, “I’d be annoyed if I were Steve. She’s always all over him and they’re not even dating. So clingy.”

Eddie laughed, as did the others, and you waited just beyond the door for a few moments to pretend that you hadn’t heard.

After, you tried to distance yourself, if only a little, without arousing Steve’s suspicions. Despite being called clueless, unobservant or even stupid, despite his difficulty connecting the dots, there was little about you that escaped his notice. It was difficult to create space when none had existed since you were children and, clearly, you hadn’t done a very good job, anyway.

“Yeah, well, I’ll unstick myself from your side.” You intended the quip to be teasing, a joke that earned you a laugh or a soft swat as you passed him by, but it came out wrong. The words were acidic, tasted bitter in the back of your throat as they rolled off your tongue, and you could see him wince from the sting of them as you stood from your chair. “I’m gonna go shower,” you deflected, unable to look at him. “Chlorine’s burning my eyes.”

Steve sat upright as you gathered your towel and discarded clothes, your empty soda can and the tube of tropical sunscreen. He stubbed out his cigarette and reached out, hand searching for yours and coming up empty for the first time in a long time.

“Wait,” he urged, rising to his feet as you busied yourself with removing any trace of your presence from the immediate vicinity. “Did I… what did I say? Whatever it was, I didn’t -“ His brows furrowed as he lifted the hand you avoided and carded it through his hair, sighing when you winced at the sound of his sunglasses clattering to the ground.

“You didn’t - it’s nothing.” Steve tipped his head, an attempt to catch your eye as you blinked back the stinging sensation - chlorine, really, and overwhelmed, traitorous tears. “Just tired.”

From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of his face. He wore a concerned frown, warm eyes raking over your form as he recounted the last few moments, before he winced. “Oh. Shit. Hey, you know I’m joking,” he insisted, taking a half-step closer. And when you took a full step back, he frozen, uncertain - unused to the distance. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know I love it when you’re close to me. It’s nice. I’m not - that was a shitty thing to say.”

“It’s okay.” You waved him off, a dismissive hand held aloft for a moment before dropping to hold your towel close to your chest, and hoped he believed the crack in your voice was from the yelling you’d done earlier in the day. “It’s true, ’s’what everyone thinks, anyway.”

“What?” He looked confused, frown deepening as he tried again. He took a cautious step to close some of the distance and lifted a hand to reach out for you before thinking better of it. His hand fell to his side and you clutched the material in your arms tight to your chest to keep from reaching out yourself. “No one thinks that.”

“They do,” you confessed, finally lifting your head to meet his gaze as you forced a laugh. “They think it’s weird and sad and annoying that I’m, like, all over you. They think I’m, like, obsessed or something.” The admission was uttered casually, as easily as you could manage when your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest, and Steve took another tentative step forward.

“Who said that?”

Though it was phrased as a question, it came out a demand. His expression shifted, flickered from soft concern to annoyance - not at you, very rarely at you - as he waited.

“I overheard the kids joking about it,” you told him with a sigh. “And back when you were dating Nancy, Tommy and Carol said something. So did Billy. It didn’t bother me then ‘cause Tommy and Carol and Billy were morons, but now, well… Maybe they were right. I - I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so… attached.”

Steve stepped closer then, insistent despite your feeble attempt to keep the distance, and reached out for you. One warm, large hand fell to your waist, fingers finding bare skin still warm from the sun while the other cupped your cheek. He was patient, soft, as he encouraged you to meet his eyes once more.

“They were total morons. I’m honestly surprised they paid enough attention to someone else to notice,” he huffed, rolling his eyes at the memory of your former friends. “And the kids, they’re just kids. They don’t - don’t listen to them, alright. I don’t think you’re clingy or annoying or sad or anything else. I think you’re my best friend and I like being close to you.”

Though it brought you comfort to hear how adamantly he denied thinking you were clingy - how adamantly he denied finding your constant presence annoying - the reminder that he only saw you as a friend did little to ease the roiling in the pit of your stomach. 

A fresh wave of traitorous tears stung at the backs of your eyes and you did your best to blink them away as you nodded. “Yeah,” you nodded, acknowledging him with a watery half-smile. “Okay.”

“Hey, I’m serious,” he asserted, dipping his head to search your face for the answer to a question he had yet to ask. “I want you close to me, like, all the time. Robin laughs at me but I don’t really know what to do when you’re not there. I like it when you hold my hand or sit on my lap. It… it makes me feel like you want me with you as much as I want to be with you.”

Though the lump in your throat persisted, though the tears still threatened to fall, you immediately reassured him. “Of course I want you to be with me. I love spending time with you.” You sighed, allowing yourself to melt into Steve’s touch. “It’s always been us.”

“Always has been, always will be,” he confirmed, smile soft but still a touch concerned. He hesitated for a moment, seeming to weigh his words for the first time in a long time, before he settled on asking, “What’s up, babe? Why’d it bother you so much?”

“It’s stupid.”

Immediately, Steve shook his head. He refused to allow you to wave it off, to dismiss the tease that clearly hurt your feelings, as his thumb stroked your cheek. “It’s not, not if it’s bothering you.”

“I just…” You inhaled sharply, eyes closing as you attempted to gather your thoughts. Though Steve’s closeness would’ve brought you comfort under ordinary circumstances, it made it difficult for you to concentrate as your heart began to beat a touch too fast. “Just been thinking,” you finally began, choosing your words carefully. “It was fine when we were kids but, I mean, we’re adults now. What happens when one of your dates pays off and you find someone to fall in love with? Don’t think she’ll be too happy with, you know, this. It’s not like we can cuddle on the couch or have sleepovers for the rest of our lives.”

Steve remained quiet for a long moment - a silence that stretched on forever, thick and suffocating - and you swallowed the emotion clumping in the back of your throat before opening your eyes. You were met with his warm gaze, soft brown eyes flickering with an emotion you couldn’t quite read as he took a half-step closer.

“What if… I mean, we could.” Two words, and you felt frozen in uncertainty. Everything around you, everything outside of Steve, ceased to exist. You could feel your heart thudding heavily in your chest, your breath caught in your throat as you waited for him to elaborate. “The dates,” he began, now looking as nervous as you felt, “none of them have felt right. They don’t feel like this, like us. They don’t make me feel like you do.”

For months, you’d dreamt that Steve felt the same way. You imagined that somewhere, beneath the fond smiles and teasing jabs lingered the same nerves, the same butterflies, the same all-encompassing love. You imagined that his head was full of the same ‘what-if’s’ as you shared his bed, the same hope that you’d share the same bed for the rest of your life. You dreamt that he would one day confess his love and end your hopeless attempt at getting over him.

But now that it seemed within your grasp, so close you could practically feel his heart beating just as erratically as your own, it felt too good to be true.

“What does that mean?”

The question came as a whisper, afraid that if you spoke too loud you might break whatever spell had been cast over the backyard, but Steve heard it clearly. He met it with a half-smile as the hand on your hip began to trace nonsensical patterns across your skin - a nervous habit that made you feel as if your skin was on fire.

“Means that I want to keep holding your hand and having sleepovers,” he elaborated, voice soft in the still of the night. “Means that I… I don’t want to keep going on dates with anyone but you. Every time I think about the future, it changes - what I’m doing, where I live. But you’re always there and that’s all I want. I’ve been trying to pretend like I’m not in love with you but I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Steve’s confession rang in your ears, crashed over you like a tidal wave, and left you unable to speak - unable to breathe. He waited, patient, understanding, as your racing thoughts scrambled in search of something coherent. But when you failed to gather anything resembling a complete sentence, you decided to allow your actions to speak for you.

In the way that you’d started to imagine as you drifted off to sleep, you dropped the items in your arms and lifted your hands to tangle in his hair to pull him in close. He smelled of summer - cigarettes, cheap beer, artificial coconut and chlorine - and something so unerringly Steve that you suddenly couldn’t imagine being this close to anyone else.

The hand on your cheek was encouraging, soft and warm as he tipped your chin, and you gave in to the urge you’d been fighting. With one step, you pressed yourself close - your chest meeting his, the warmth of his bare skin setting your nerve endings alight - and pressed your mouth to his.

Despite your expectations, there were no fireworks, no sparks or heavenly choirs, but there was an instant sense of comfort. Kissing Steve felt like coming home, warm and easy, as if you’d done it a thousand times before. 

There was no awkward shuffling, no tentative brushes of uncertain lips. Instead, you moved together seamlessly. His body slotted against yours perfectly, fit exactly as if you belonged there - together, intertwined. His lips were soft, as plush as you’d imagined, and his skin was so warm that you wondered if you would be branded with his touch before the night was over.

Though your fantasies varied - desperate kisses, eager to make up for lost time; filthy ones, a mess of lips and tongues and teeth, as you swapped spit and stumbled down a dark hallway toward his bedroom; soft kisses, designed to convey years of unspoken feelings - this kiss destroyed them all.

It was soft, slow and eager as you sought to become acquainted with the taste of one another, and laced with the underlying promise of a beautiful future.

Steve’s touch was eager, unrestrained and achingly familiar, as he held you close and swallowed the soft noises you made. Every breathless gasp and quiet sigh of pleasure, was met with a hum of his own as he slipped the hand on your cheek to the back of your neck.

Neither of you wanted the kiss to end, content to breathe in one another until your lungs collapsed, but the lack of oxygen and the reality of the situation had you feeling dizzy enough to break away. But as close as you’d always been, Steve kept you pressed tight to his body and rested his forehead against yours.

“Taking that to mean you’re in love with me, too,” he teased, breathless as he searched your face for any sign of regret, of hesitance. When he found none, he smiled - bright, happy, easy. “Totally not cool of me to admit, but I’ve wanted to do that forever.”

“You’ve never been cool, Stevie,” you returned, giggling as he pinched your side.

“Was gonna be nice,” he huffed, pretending to be put out though his grin never faltered as he shifted his head, brushed his nose against yours. “Tell you how pretty I think you are, how I want to spend the rest of my life with you; all that mushy stuff. But since you wanna be mean…”

Before you could blink, giggle out a teasing apology for your perceived slight, Steve’s arms fell to your waist. He held you close, lifted easily, and carried you the few steps to the edge of the pool. The moment you realized his intentions, the moment you opened your mouth to squeal out a plea for him to stop, Steve stepped over the edge and plunged you both into the water.

Even as you fell, sinking into the deep end, Steve kept you close. He hauled you both back up above the water, laughing as you huffed - thankfully used to this, almost expecting it as he attempted it every year.

“Steve!”

“What?” He grinned, dark hair dripping into his eyes as he guided you both into a more manageable depth and encouraged you to wrap your legs around his waist. “All this could’ve been avoided if you’d just been nice to me,” he reasoned.

“I’m always nice to you, Stevie.” You weren’t - your friendship was an equal mixture of soft encouragement, soft words and even softer touches, and teasing jabs - but Steve hummed, just the same. “But I can be even nicer.”

“Know what would be really nice?” When you hummed, Steve returned a hand to cup your cheek - tipping your head to meet your eyes, only a hint of insecurity swirling amongst the warm, soft brown. “Telling me I’m not getting all this wrong. I… I know I don’t always get it,” he acknowledged, swallowing thickly, “but I… I get this, right?”

“Oh, Steve. The reason I got so freaked out about the clingy thing,” you began, lifting your hands to brush the damp hair from his forehead, “was because I was afraid you’d see it, how in love I am. I… I’ve been in love with you for a while. You’re it for me, Harrington.”

Steve grinned, then, relieved - elated, clearly brimming with joy at the revelation - and leaned forward to close the gap. The press of his mouth to yours was eager, firm, and relieved some of the ache in your chest, the fear that this was something you’d dreamt up, too good to be true. He crowded you against the wall, body caging you in as his tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you sighed as you tangled your fingers in his hair.

Though the pool water was cool, the press of Steve’s body against yours had you melting. He always ran warm, left you blistering in the wake of his hands exploring your skin, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest as his fingers mapped the slivers of skin he’d only held through fabric.

“Babe,” he breathed, mouth barely parted from yours as you shifted your hips, “don’t wanna do this in the pool. Not the first time. Let me take you inside.”

The urgency in his tone drew a soft moan from you, eager to feel his touch and touch him in return. “Please. Waited so long, don’t wanna wait anymore.”

Desperation, eager and hurried, that had lingered beneath the surface of the entire encounter - a desire to give in, finally, after waiting for so long - showed clearly as you both rushed out of the pool. Steve remained close to you, one hand on your hip even as you both roughly toweled off, and ushered you into the house.

The Harrington house was as familiar to you as your own. It was a space you could navigate with your eyes closed, under the worst circumstances, and you were grateful for the knowledge as you and Steve rushed up the stairs to his bedroom without pause.

As many times as you’d stepped foot in Steve’s room, as many nights as you’d spent wrapped in his sheets, there was an understandable difference in this moment. The tension was palpable and, despite how eager you both were, you both faltered for a moment as the door clicked shut behind you.

“This… we don’t have to do anything,” he began, stepping close, his palm warm against your waist. “We can just shower, maybe watch a movie or something before bed.”

Again, rather than fumbling for a coherent sentence - attempting to make sense of the thoughts that remained scrambled in your brain - you reached out for him. Steve sighed as your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged, eyes blazing with a heat that made your head spin, and you almost hated to lose the sight of his parted lips and lust blown eyes as your mouth pressed to his.

Steve’s hands began to wander, fingers mapping your skin in a desperate bid to commit it all to memory, as he walked you backwards. The plush of his bed hit the back of your knees, duvet soft, and he followed you down easily. With a knee pressed into the mattress beside your hip, a hand beside your head, Steve hovered above you, mouth never leaving yours.

While his fingers traced the skin of your stomach, your hips, your shoulders, your thighs, you brought your own to his chest. You raked your nails over his exposed skin, committing the warmth of him to memory, as he broke the kiss to lavish your neck with attention.

As he nosed at your jaw, lips pressing fleeting kisses to your skin, his hand fell to your breast, eagerly cupping the soft flesh over the damp material of your swimsuit.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathed, reverence lacing his tone as his hand flexed. “So warm, so soft. Smell nice.”

“It’s the sunscreen,” you gasped, words pitching higher as his lips latched onto the spot just beneath your ear. “You should try it.”

“Mm. You can put some on me tomorrow,” he offered, tongue darting out to soothe spot he’d nipped.

The promise was laced with an eager desire that had your hands wandering, nails raking over the trail of hair dipping into the band of his trunks, and you could feel the contraction of his stomach as he inhaled sharply. You knew that you tasted of chlorine and chemicals, of summer, but Steve didn’t seem to mind as he continued pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin.

Eagerly, he began to dip lower, his lips exploring your heated skin and leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Every touch was electric, sent a shockwave through your system and left your chest aching with a warmth that you hoped would never cool. You could feel the arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach, gathering slick between your thighs, as Steve nipped at the skin of your chest.

Skilled hands made quick work of the fabric covering your chest, easily ridding you of the damp suit without lifting his head from your skin, and you felt your breath catch in your throat as Steve began to make his way down. He nipped at the delicate skin of your chest, stubble scraping your skin in the most delicious way as he shifted to free his hands.

As Steve’s hands shifted, cupped your breasts and hummed, your own hand dipped beneath the band of his trunks. Your fingers brushed the warm skin, reveling in the stuttering breath Steve released, even as his own hands began to trail downward.

“Always pretty,” he complimented, voice rough as he began to follow the path blazed by his hands, pressing kisses down your chest and stomach.  “But this,” he hummed, grinning when you whined as he moved out of reach, “too fuckin’ pretty. Not fair.”

“You’re one to talk.” It was breathless, a gasp that escaped as his lips latched onto a patch of skin near your hip, and Steve grinned. “You’re so beautiful, Stevie. ’S’distracting.”

Steve continued to sink lower, mouth blazing a devastating path across your skin, as his hands fell to the plush of your thighs. He spread them easily, settled between them, and glanced up at you from near the foot of his bed with a devilish smirk that reminded you of the days of King Steve - handsome, flirty, charming.

“How’ve we never done this before?” His hands drifted closer to your aching cunt, so close to where you desperately wanted him yet so far away as his mouth pressed to your inner thigh. “Wanna spend the rest of my life here.”

“Haven’t even got my bathing suit off,” you teased, though it was weak - wrecked, already so entirely destroyed for him. But Steve took it as a challenge.

Almost immediately, Steve’s hands slipped beneath the band of your bottoms and tugged, easily working the damp fabric down your thighs. The moment they were gone, tossed across the room to be found later, he settled back between them and grinned.

Before you could tease, make a joke about him being eager, Steve’s hands shifted exactly where you wanted them. Warm fingers swiped at your slick folds, gathered the evidence of your arousal easily, before they lifted to his waiting mouth. Your lungs constricted and breathing felt impossible as you watched him lap at the slick, an exaggerated moan leaving his lips as he pulled them free with a wink.

“Knew you’d taste amazing,” he complimented, dipping his head to nip at your inner thigh.

Steve nosed at the juncture of your thigh as his fingers returned to your folds and you could feel his triumphant grin when you gasped as his thumb found your clit. But he didn’t allow you time to speak as he dipped his head and licked a stripe along your slit.

Large hands found your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin to keep you spread open as he lapped at you. There was no tentative tasting, no hesitant swipe of his tongue; Steve ate you like a man starved.

Those plush lips wrapped around your clit, eagerly tasting all you had to give, as his fingers returned to your puffy folds. He swiped them through your slick, gathered it on his fingers, before pressing them into you and working to open you up. 

“You’re,” a gasp interrupted you, stole your breathe as Steve glanced up at you from between your thighs - his shoulders keeping you spread open, hair caught between your fingers. “Fuck, Stevie, you’re good at that.”

Steve preened under the praise, lashes fluttering at that and the combination of your fingers yanking at his hair, as his fingers - longer, thicker than yours; easily pressing into the spaces you could never quite reach - sank deeper into you. 

As desperate as you were to feel him, to have him push you over the edge, this wasn’t the way you wanted to go. You wanted to feel him, to feel his weight pressing you into the mattress as his lips met yours, and you told him as much as you tugged at his hair.

“Wanna feel you, Stevie, please,” you begged, stomach tight and chest aching as you desperately sought to catch your breath. 

“Fuck.” Steve’s forehead pressed to your thigh, warm breath fanning over your sticky skin. “Wanted to hear you say that forever,” he admitted, eagerly clambering up to shove his trunks down his hips.

As Steve shoved his swim trunks down, you tipped your head - eager to see if the rumors were true. And just as you’d heard, Steve was larger than you ever could’ve imagined. He was bigger than anyone you’d been with, bigger than anything you’d seen, and you couldn’t help yourself as you reached out to touch him.

The tip was an angry red, dripping precum, and Steve swore as your thumb brushed at the pearly bead. “Fuck, you’re so big,” you whined, wondering how he would fit - eagerly anticipating the stretch of him.

“Can’t say shit like that,” he huffed, laughing - pink cheeks blazing, embarrassed and secretly pleased at the attention - as he settled above you. “Ego’s already too big,” he teased.

“Not the only thing,” you returned, grinning when he laughed, fingers dipping between your thighs. “Fuck me, Stevie, please.”

“Anything you want,” he promised, hand wrapping around the base of his cock and guiding it to your puffy folds. He dragged the head through the slick, both of you moaning at the contact, before he notched the head at your entrance and pressed forward.

The stretch of him was delicious, too much and not enough all at once, and you swore you could feel him in the back of your throat as he sank into you. He went slow, careful, eager not to hurt you, but with every inch he sank forward, you were desperate to feel him fully.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Steve was pressed fully into you. It was overwhelming, being so impossibly close to him - completely intertwined, bodies as one - and all you could do was pull him into a searing kiss.

The kiss was a mess, a clash of tongue and teeth, uncoordinated but so satisfying as his hand gripped your hip. You could feel him surrounding you, all-encompassing, and you never wanted the moment to end.

Even as his hips began to snap, his rhythm steady, deep, you struggled to catch your breath - to care about anything other than the warmth of his skin against yours, the scent of him, the weight of him over you. The only thing you could say was his name, repeated like a prayer as his thumb found your clit and his lips remained just inches from your own.

Steve was all that existed, all that had ever existed, and suddenly the future was bright. There was hope, an eager desire to spend the rest of your life here - in this moment, with Steve pressed close - and you couldn’t help but whimper out a desperate, “I love you,” as you felt yourself barreling toward the edge.

The words were returned in a reverent chant, equally desperate, as you felt his hips begin to stutter. You were both nearly there, just a few presses of his hips - another swipe of his thumb, another press of his mouth to your heated skin - and you were careening over the edge with Steve following shortly after.

Warmth flooded your veins, his spend filling you so completely, and his lips sought yours despite your shared inability to regain your breath. It didn’t matter, not when all that existed was this moment, and you didn’t care that Steve’s weight had fallen to press you deeper into the mattress.

For a few long moments, you both lay there - gasping, fighting to catch your breath and return to the moment at hand - before Steve pulled away just enough to settle at your side. There was no distance left between you, slick skin pressed together, and you would’ve been content to lie there forever.

Steve, it seemed, felt the same as he settled into the pillow and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead.

Though the afternoon began with a fear that Steve would see you as clingy, that he would never love you in the way you loved him, you were ending the night in the only place you wanted to be; clinging to your boyfriend, sated and happy and looking forward to the future for the first time in a long time.

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Author's Note: This was inspired by a sunscreen, believe it or not. Don't know how we got here but it was a fun journey.

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​

[princessbrunette]

basketball!rafe knew he needed you the moment he set eyes on you once more in that hotel bar.

personally, you thought he might’ve been a nobody on first glance. a really handsome nobody, so he couldn’t have actually been a nobody — but it was the intrigue that drew you in regardless. to set the scene, you didn’t have to go far to find him, no — this was the fanciest hotel in your hometown and you were there alone. something about getting all dressed up and then your friends cancelling last minute, it didn’t matter — it felt like so long ago that you’d forgotten all about it. all you remember was seeing the handsome nobody in a t-shirt and a cap strolling up to the bar.

it was only after doing a double take, you realised the nobody was rafe cameron.

now you’d already known rafe from the obx. distantly, of course — a couple of parties here and there, some lingering glances when you were convinced he was a fuck boy. he was apparently a little unhinged back in the day, but after his dad died he fixed his shit and went pro with basketball, making it big. like mentioned, you weren’t friends, merely acquaintances with the boy a couple of years your senior— but he’d always been someone you saw get their shit together and think, you know what? good for him i guess.

now rafe remembers his history with you differently. apparently, he used to shoot hoops with your older brother in your backyard with a few other friends back when they were younger. still a casual hobby for rafe, and playing it anywhere else but a kook’s backyard might’ve looked too poguey for him to be caught partaking in. at the end of the day, golf was meant to be his sport. it was fitting and low maintenance. basketball took the cake everytime however— helping him mentally in more ways than anyone could imagine.

anyway, he remembers you — a lot younger than you are now, flip flops slapping along the patio as you arrive on destination — mouthing off to your big brother about bouncing the ball too loudly off your wall or spending all the money your mother had left for pizza on the counter. you were this tiny mouthy weapon, even having the infamous rafe cameron snickering down at his shoes as your brother whined back at you, trying to shoo you back inside. he recalls even catching a couple of strays, your shrill youthful voice referring to the eldest cameron as a ‘lanky meathead’.

“jesus, you gotta keep your sisters mouth in check dude. gonna grow up n’get her in trouble n’shit.” he’d shake his head as you’d waddle back inside, bouncing the ball and shooting. after that it was just parties as you grew up, seeing a familiar pretty face through a coked out haze and thinking ‘who’s that again?’ in passing or overhearing you talking to your friends, still carrying that same slick mouth that you only got away with because you were so hot.

only now, he’s staring across this dimly lit hotel bar, the first time in a while that he’d been back in his hometown and there you are — staring back at him, a face he’d never forget except you’re all grown up now— practically spilling out that slinky little dress and acting as a magnet, his feet dragging him over to you before his drink had even arrived from the bartender.

not even five minutes into conversation and it’s abundantly clear that you’re still that spoiled little cheerleader he knew once upon a time, only this time you’re tilting your head to the side with your brows furrowed in confusion that bordered on disinterest when he tried to explain what happened in his most recent game. you weren’t here to talk about that and it showed, leaning over your margarita to adjust his expensive looking chain, pulling it to sit above his tshirt instead of tucked beneath, cutting him off to question “so you knew my brother, right?” he liked that directness about you. the fact you kinda seemed like a bitch. it was a challenge, the urge to tame and rough someone up still very much sat at the surface of his wants and desires.

once a spoiled brat — always a spoiled brat, only now you’re his spoiled brat six months later, clinging to his arm and digging your manicure into his bicep with a whine as a silent command for him to magically vanish any of the surrounding paparazzi outside the airport.

“get rid of them.” you eventually mewl, in a demanding way that represented the physical embodiment of you stomping your pedicured foot.

“you think i fuckin’ want them here?” he sighs, no stranger to your ridiculous requests. that’s what was so intoxicating about your relationship — yes you were a little bitch sometimes, but he learnt how was best to put you in your place. most of the time you were happy, fucked and fed with racks upon racks sat in your expensive handbag, clinging to him and tottering along at his side in heels that cost an arm and a leg— but the times you were snarking up at him, telling him to ‘shut the fuck up’ he was more than happy to grab your throat and ask “the fuck are you talking to like that, huh?” which oddly would cause a smile to emerge on your face and the attitude to melt off you for an hour or so.

that being said, you kept him in check too. now rafe wasn’t like he always was — unhinged, explosive and overall angry at the world. no, he had an access to therapy now and basketball worked for a good outlet of his frustrations, all whilst opening up a new world for him to get his fresh start away from all that family bullshit he had to put up with a while back (cut them all off, minus wheezie who he sends money to every month and facetimes to talk shit.) that being said — he would be the one to catch an attitude out of the blue sometimes, which was often remedied by a sharp eyebrow raise from you, a dramatic head swivel and a “you better fucking talk to me nice, rafe cameron. not one of your fucking fan girls.”

with a tongue in his cheek, he’ll shake his head and drop the whole thing — but not without saying “y’know you run your mouth like you’re six foot four with two pistols tucked sometimes. shit.”

life outside of your relationship with rafe became a dream all because of him. quickly, as rafe skyrockets to success in the basketball world, you’re skyrocketing to being the top pinterest muse— starring in every girls ‘future manifestation’ moodboard with snaps of you courtside in your pretty little outfits cheering on your boyfriend. you were glammed to the nines at every game, because you knew you’d end up on that big screen one way or another.

when travelling with rafe for his tournaments, you’d get the princess treatment you deserved and that was a promise. designer shoes, designer bags, steak meals that cost the same as your house back home and you were not poor by any stretch of the word. he liked to flaunt you, flaunt his success. he was the man now, like he’d always wanted to be — and effortlessly so, not the charade he was putting on back at tanny hill throwing those parties whilst suffering on the sly. no, he had everything now— and was happy to share that with you. you didn’t have to do much to gain this treatment, no. holding him down was enough, but he’d be happy to accept your payment of gratitude in having his cock wedged down your throat in the limo back to the hotel, ending the night on your back with your ankles on his shoulders and that same chain you fiddled with when you first reunited swinging in your face.

it was no secret that the two of you fucked. it made up a good 60% of your free time together, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. rafe could still get very frustrated — with his manager, with his teammates, with people from his past cropping up, even with the general public who had opinions on his playing — and with that, what better way to pound out some frustrations then by bending you over a balcony in a foreign country? rafe had a good team behind him, and luckily so — because it wouldn’t be the first time a hotel had attempted to get the two of you blacklisted for causing too much of a noise disturbance, notes pinned to your door found in the morning reading ‘Dear guests, whilst we are thrilled that you are enjoying our hotel, we please ask that you keep it down for the sake of the other guests. To remind you, other guests do not need to hear your lovemaking through the night! If this continues throughout your stay you will be asked to leave.’

your basketball player boyfriend would pluck the note off the door the next morning when you’re leaving together for the day, your sleepy self tucked under the arm of his hoodie covering his jersey as he scoffs, handing it your way carelessly. “pussies. they can’t do shit about it.”

unstoppably so, despite your hate for gossip past being in high school the notes would turn to blind items as rafe truly came into the public eye. you couldn’t scroll three videos on tiktok without hearing ‘this north carolina basketball player and hometown it girl may have come into hot water again at this famous vegas hotel after making sure their wall neighbours heard the ins and outs of their passion — april 27th, crazy days and nights.’ that, or the blogosphere getting ahold of the blurry and ambiguous paparazzi shots taken of you supposedly ‘getting it on’ on the beach.

unfortunately, this public knowledge that the two of you were real fuckers was not enough for twitter, which resulted in your first leaked video.

rafe should have known to be careful when the two of you in a lustful haze filmed an amateur tape the day before you had to fly home for a little while, the basketball player knowing he’d miss being in it and needed some material to work off whilst you were gone.

the video was 1 minute and 49 seconds of pure glory. filmed on landscape with an outstretched arm rafe captures you, whining and mewling as you roll your hips on his lap, bouncing on his cock as he watches the two of you through the screen, swollen lips parting and tongue flattening to catch your nipple as you do so. he grips your ass hungrily, aiding you on fucking down on him before delivering a firm smack to your ass that makes you jolt, only unlatching his mouth from your tit to grumble out “s’what i’m fuckin’ talking about baby. who’s your daddy, huh?” looking up at you from your needy spread out position.

you still recall the way your heart dropped into your ass seeing your name along side rafes in the trending tab, following by the words ‘leaked video’.

your legal teams were all over it instantly, working hard to get it shut down off every site it had been reuploaded and desperately attempting to track down whoever had managed to get into your boyfriends cloud to expose it— a couple weeks of watching paparazzi shots of rafe taking calls outside buildings, yelling down the phone and flipping off the cameras in moments of frustration and stress — for him to then be on the phone to you from a hotel room later that night, talking you down as you cry like a baby and complain.

“i know, i know alright i’m workin’ on it. gonna get that shit wiped from the net i can promise you that now, i got the guy who can make it happen for me. but for now, look y’know there’s — there’s nothin’ i can do alright, i can’t make people fuckin’… unsee that shit unfortunately just be glad you look so sexy in the video cause — okay, shit, the hell are you yelling for? m’just tryna help—”

after a while it does infact die down, and the video can no longer be found — yes, even on the shitty pop up porn sites that had reposted it with twelve watermarks in the worst quality. however, it didn’t stop jaded basketball fans from bringing it up any chance they got — getting in heated debates online and using it as an insult to the cameron boys playing skills. god forbid a rafe fan would speak up for him after a particularly poor game, his mentions getting filled with nothing but a screenshot of your boyfriend with your titty in his mouth.

though it had faded, the two of you learned that there was no way around it than to humour it — your boyfriend barely addressing the tape by quoting it in his instagram caption after one of his big wins, the post of him grinning on the court with his trophy tilted ‘who’s your daddy, huh?’ which of course, sent twitter into a spiral.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

happiest day

pairing: mike schmidt x reader

summary: when you least expect it, mike surprises you with a confession

warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, hint of angst, smut, unprotected piv, creampie, mentions of rough sex, requited feelings

word count: <1k

Mike tells you he loves you for the first time the way no one ever should. Balls deep, while he's cumming inside you.

It tumbles out, a quiet moan at first, then a louder realization that takes both of you by surprise. His hips slam into your ass once, twice, and then he's filling you up, his admission hanging heavy in the air.

You're almost positive you imagined it until he repeats it again with a little more conviction.

"Fuck. I think I'm in love with you," he pants heavily, his hands intermittently squeezing your waist in time with the heady pulsing of his cock.

There's a beat of silence while you struggle to process his words, torn between the warring sensations of his release leaking down your thighs and shock tugging at your ribcage. He slips out of you as he softens, and once your connection is broken, it hits you like a ton of bricks.

"...What?"

He freezes behind you, and you immediately regret your gut response. That's not what you meant to say at all. Of course, it's not. You're just...confused. You hadn't expected it from him, not when you've only been together for a few months. Part of you wants to wait and see if he takes it back, just in case. But he doesn't.

"If...it's okay, you know. If you don't feel the same, it's okay," he mumbles, folding over you to rest his forehead between your shoulder blades.

His breath is warm and humid against your skin as he peppers soft, lingering kisses down your spine. Strong arms wrap around your waist, clinging to you like this might be his last chance, and suddenly it all feels so real. You've been too quiet for too long and now he's afraid.

You haven't told him yet, but there's no need to be. You just can't figure out how. How can anyone possibly cram the immensity of months of pizza nights on the living room floor watching James and the Giant Peach with Abby, and days off work spent tangled in bed, fucking and fighting and forgiving, into three little words?

You try anyway, but what comes out isn't a response. It's a plea. You don't know what you're asking for—you just know you need him.

"Mike," your voice shakes with it. He holds you tighter, and now there's so little space between you, you can't tell where he ends and you begin.

"You don't have to say it. It's okay, I won't be mad. I just...I need you to say something. Anything," he whispers, his day-old stubble rough and grounding as he speaks.

He nuzzles into you, breathing unevenly—nervously—and you realize he's comforting you. Regardless of what you decide, you're still his first priority.

You find his hand where it rests, splayed across your stomach, and lace your fingers with his. Just say it. Just tell him, say it back. There'll be plenty of time to show him how much you mean it.

Because they're not just words. They're not even a feeling. Love is a promise, and you'll keep it.

Taking a steadying breath, you turn in his arms and pull him down on top of you. It's the first time you've seen his face since he got home and wrestled you onto your hands and knees, all searing touches and deep, frantic thrusts. Since he told you he loves you.

His eyes meet yours, darting from one to the other, desperate for an answer, but yours, instead, follow the freckles across his nose down to the curve of his cupid's bow. There is so, so much to love about Mike Schmidt, and he deserves to know it.

"Of course, I love you," you promise, tilting your chin up so your bottom lip just grazes his top.

His face lights up with an unrestrained smile you see so rarely, the one reserved only for you and Abby on his happiest days. You lean forward to kiss him, softly and open-mouthed, and he inhales sharply, his hands shooting down to your waist.

His grip is a little too tight, and you think maybe he's scared you'll take it back, so you wrap your legs around him to hold him right where he is. Then, the kiss deepens and, when his hands start to roam, you realize what he needs.

Mike has always found solace in you, inside you, whenever he's struggling to express or accept what he's feeling, and right now he's asking for reassurance. Hooking your heels behind his back, you tug his hips into yours, and he groans into your mouth as he slips through his release still dripping from your heat.

He's already hard as a rock and bucking into you as if he didn't fuck you into his mattress less than an hour ago, except this time you can see him. The tension between his brows and in his shoulders visibly loosens, and he exhales a sigh of relief the moment he's buried to the hilt.

Enveloped by your warmth and security, it falls from his lips again, over and over—an increasingly sure declaration as he continuously fills you up and hollows you out.

You repeat it back, and it feels good. It feels so good to love Mike Schmidt.

thanks for reading!

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦.

— pairing; malleus draconia x ramshackle! reader

— summary; set after leona's overblot, malleus notices how your physical appearance has changed.

— notes; please donate to my kofi if you like my work. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ It’s late when you stumble back to Ramshackle dorm, your body tired and aching from the day’s events.

❋ Leona had overblotted, turning everything in the vicinity to sand . . . Including your hair.

❋ You couldn’t bear the uneven patches where parts of it had been turned to sand, and with a little help from Ace and Deuce, you’d managed to hack it all off – but it’ll take you some time to get used to it.

❋ As you’re approaching the rusted iron gate, you notice a familiar figure waiting for you there, illuminated by the moonlight. It’s “Hornton”, as you’ve taken to calling your new friend, unaware of his true identity just yet.

❋ Malleus takes note of your new appearance as soon as you draw near, greeting him with a wave and a tired smile. He doesn’t make a big deal out of your new look, but you can see the faintest raise of his brows, the slight narrowing of his gaze as he takes in your new hairstyle.

❋ “Child of Man,” He greets you quietly, gently, and there’s a concern layered under his words that makes you feel seen in ways others haven't noticed yet. It’s almost enough to make a lump gather in your throat, and you suck in a steadying breath, trying to recompose yourself. “What happened to your hair?”

❋ But he doesn’t really need you to explain; he’s a Fae, more sensitive to magic than others, and he can sense the traces of powerful magic, still lingering on you even now. "A lion’s magic has its claws in you still," he murmurs, almost to himself. He doesn’t mention Leona by name, but something in his gaze darkens, almost protective.

❋ But you tell him anyway, explaining that you had to cut your hair to even it out, and it’s the first time you’ve said it aloud. Even though you try to keep your tone light, there’s a pang in your voice you can’t hide, and Malleus listens with the intensity of someone who understands loss.

❋ Gently, he reaches out to touch the jagged edges of your hair, his face softening into a smile. “You look beautiful regardless, Child of Man.”

❋ And your heart skips a beat at his words.

[fatuismooches]

amandus est videri.

synopsis: Your birthday rolls around again, and you expect it to be a nice, relaxed day as always. But your illness hasn’t been the kindest to you lately, so Dottore decides to spoil you, as best as a man like him knows how to anyway.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: Just a fluff, self-indulgent fic of Dottore being soft for you on your birthday. Fragile reader. He comforts you a lot at the end. Last year's fic.

Birthdays were a special thing, no doubt.

It was a day that many looked forward to. It represented another year of growing older, a joyful celebration with the ones you loved as you looked forward to the future. At least, that was the case for some people. For others, they simply didn’t care. Your husband was a good example. If you didn’t remind Dottore every year and present him with a gift, you were sure the day would pass like any other, whether he remembered it was his birthday or not.

You, on the other hand, were probably in the middle of these two feelings. Yes, you did look forward to the day, but you supposed it had lost some of the charm it should have. It had been so many years since you’d woken up from your almost eternal rest, and even longer since you had been plagued with this sickness. Therefore all of your birthdays have been spent with the same lingering feeling in the back of your mind - when will you spend your special day in good health, free to feel and think and act in the way you truly want to? At this point, the only reason you continued to ask for a large cake was to indulge the segments’ sweets cravings.

Still, your birthday did make you happy, whether it was from the lavishing affection from your lovers or the gifts you received (how you survived without your beloved Headcircles for so long was beyond you.) This year would be no different. But it was obvious to the others that you had become more withdrawn and closed off than your normal self, which had come as a result of your stagnant condition. 

Of course, Dottore himself had become more than aware of this. He was an observant man after all, even on the days he didn’t see you or speak to you. He knew you, inside and out. Even now, he could understand the downcast look that sometimes sunk into your face when you thought no one was watching. 

Which was no doubt surprising to the average person, considering the severe lack of ethical practice and empathy from the Doctor. Of course, being a scholar first and foremost, results came first, regardless of what needed to happen to obtain them. But in truth, when it came to you, he was a genuine doctor, and you were his only genuine patient, to which he had the genuine goal of treating and curing you, unlike his other subjects. 

Therefore, due to this sincerity, it was simple for him to understand how you were affected by your illness. However, you refused to ever approach him about it first, which often led to a flood of tears later down the line, when he finally got you to stop holding back. Still, there was only so much he could do. He wasn’t made to comfort, his specialty was the opposite. He wasn’t a natural at producing soft words, and his hands didn’t know where to go to make it all better.

Nowadays, it wasn’t hard for him to admit to himself that he missed your lively and vibrant self. The person who would constantly tease and banter with him, unafraid to debate with him or be loud in their declarations with a once familiar wide smile, laying their hands all over him as they thought of the most minuscule thing to bother him with. Needless to say, Il Dottore didn’t appreciate interruptions during his work…

But he missed yours. 

However, he saw the approaching date of your birthday as a good opportunity to hopefully help that person come forth once more. Of course, he was never one to really care about birthdays, until you came along. It was all those years ago when he decided that the effort you put into it was worth reciprocating even just a bit. Good work should be rewarded after all. Though this gift was certainly much bigger than his previous ones, he believed it was well deserved.

—

The day was just like any other. You had started it by watching the endless snow continue to form in heaps as the segments conducted their daily prodding at your body for checkups, and then made yourself cozy in bed in the comfort of your room. A lot of your days had been spent like this lately, too tired to walk around or entertain yourself with the segments. 

That was okay - they still visited you from time to time. But a visit that you did not expect was from Dottore himself. You hadn’t even heard him come in, only realizing his presence when his deep voice tickled your ear, making you jump and scramble to sit up properly. The fox creature that had peacefully nested near your feet was also awoken by the sudden intrusion, glaring at the man who paid it no attention.

“That seems to be quite an absorbing book you’re reading.” He had no reaction to how he caused you a great fright.

“I keep telling you not to scare me like that,” you huffed, heart still racing from his sudden appearance and also his close proximity. He cocked his head to the side with a smile, feigning innocence, while you pouted at his response, slumping back into the sheets. Foxttore also crawled up to your side and made himself comfy there once more.

“I did knock. Multiple times, in fact,” he commented, moving to stand over you. You probably have not changed your position much since this morning. “You didn’t hear me, so I simply took matters into my own hands.” The unamused glint in your eyes managed to bring a familiar feeling into his chest.

“Regardless, while I would inquire into the contents of the literature that has you so engrossed,” he hummed, moving away from you to observe any recent additions to your room, “I have something more important to share.”

“Is that so? Have you come to tell me the update of the experiment you last spoke about?” You asked, returning your attention to your book. In reality, you already knew the answer was no - whenever it had to do with his research you could always tell whether it was from his face or tone or body language. Either he was greatly pleased, perhaps even excited when he made a breakthrough, or he was sour and annoyed if the result was the opposite.

“No, but this is far more interesting.” The smile on his face gave you a feeling he was up to something.

“More interesting? I doubt anything could be more interesting than your research, Dottore,” you replied, but his statement intrigued you.

“I have decided to take you somewhere.” That response made your eyes widen, perking up in surprise. The times you had been able to leave the lab were far in between due to your illness, so you treasured each time you were able to witness the glory of the chilly snowfall. This had to have something to do with your birthday, and you were already grateful. Even if your body didn’t want to cooperate, well… you’d just force it to (hopefully.)

“Where? Tell me where!” You swung your feet over the edge of your bed, thrilled, your pet once again whining at the loss of your warmth. “Wait, actually, let me guess!” You didn’t notice how pleased he was with your sudden return to life, a smile on your face as you thought about all the possibilities, longing to get away from this place.

“Hmm… are we going to visit that delicious bakery again? And scare the townsfolk once more?” You tapped your cheek as you reminisced at the mix of petrified and curious expressions from when you two were there. It was still amusing to think about the Harbinger in such a place with you.

“No, somewhere farther away.”

“The theater, then? Oh, is a new play coming out? Are we gonna watch it? But I don’t want to hear you complain about the plot the whole time again…” Dottore merely watched, entertained by your deep in thought expression.

“No, not that either.” 

“Then where? Tell me,” you gave up on guessing, trying not to kick your legs in excitement.

“We are going to Sumeru together.” His words caused the room to go silent afterward as you blinked at him, trying to process his words. Your lips parted and then closed as you repeated what he said back in your mind, while Dottore only stared at you as if what he said was the most normal thing ever.

“... Huh? I- what?” After a bit, you couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the sheer absurdity of that sentence. “Hey, I know a certain segment of yours likes to joke around, but not you so much. Now tell me, where are we really going?” But Dottore didn’t look phased at your denial, casually brushing his fingers against your numerous books on the shelves, only perking up once he recognized one on Khaenri’ahn machinery.

“We are going to Sumeru,” he repeated. “Once we’re there, we can go anywhere you like. We will leave a week from today, first thing in the morning, and get there the night before your birthday. And there is no need to pack, everything will be taken care of.” Once again, you were shocked into silence, your heart rate increasing to a pace that probably wasn’t the best for you.

“... You’re serious. You’re actually serious,” you spoke in disbelief, words coming out in a half-whisper. You stumbled to your feet until you were pressed against him, your hands gripping his shirt as you beckoned him for answers. “But why? I mean- how? I thought I couldn’t- we couldn’t because of all of those things and- well, are you sure? I… I don’t want to bother you or your work or cause any unnecessary problems or-” Your flustered self stopped talking when a large hand rested on top of your head.

“Am I not allowed to spoil my spouse?”

“S-Spoil… well…” The words felt so foreign coming from his lips - he could be very direct with his verbal affection if he was in the mood, but this… was more than what you had expected. Although you could feel your face heating up, you still couldn’t help but feel you were putting an extra burden on him, and your expression made it easy for him to guess so. Dottore’s hand moved to stroke your cheek instead, forcing you to look up at him.

“If you’re still not convinced… then think of it as repayment, if that suits you. You’ve always satisfied my needs, I am merely satisfying yours as well. Or perhaps… think of it as me taking a vacation. You’ve always asked me to take one, no?” His voice managed to quell your worries a bit as you nodded, reaching to your cheek to squeeze his hand. 

You still had a lot of questions - if you could even handle the whole trip with your illness - but you were sure he had already come up with all the solutions to all the problems in advance. As for how he managed to get time off… perhaps working as a Harbinger without taking any sort of break for centuries ended up having its usefulness in the end… You could just imagine the expression on Pierro’s face.

“Thank you… thank you! I love you!” You couldn’t help but hug him as tightly as you could, now knowing that you were truly leaving this place to not just anywhere but your homeland, the place you missed so much. It really did sound too good to be true… Dottore only chuckled at your reaction, having expected this from the moment he planned the whole trip. He held you back, smoothing your hair until you pulled away again, suddenly deep in thought once again.

“Oh Zandik, I need to make a list! There are so much things I need to do and see… how will I have time for them all? And I need to get a nice outfit ready… gotta get new filters for my Kamera too… I have to take a lot of pictures… And souvenirs for all the segments! And Bina and Panta and Childe-” In a flash, you were suddenly digging through your room in order to prepare for the things you just mentioned, as well as whatever was running through that mind of you. The abomination of a creature had waddled his way over to you, discontent that his cuddles were over, but still interested in your activities. 

Dottore only watched in amusement, simply glad to see you smiling again in a way that was wholly you, before he left you to attend to his own business.

—

To say you were restless was an understatement. You think that Dottore shouldn’t have told you about the trip this early because now you were constantly dreaming about what you’d do in Sumeru. It wasn’t only about Sumeru either, this was a long-awaited opportunity to spend genuine time with your husband. Although you hadn’t been feeling up to much lately, the whole situation made your spirits rise. 

But soon enough, the journey was underway. However, a small problem was that you had not been on a boat in hundreds of years. It was admittedly daunting at first - but wow, had the design of boats changed a lot over the centuries… you could have never thought a boat could be so fancy. Of course, Dottore was keeping his eye on you the whole time, making sure you could handle the change in environment.

“Staying out here too long won’t be good for you,” the sudden voice to the side of you made you jump a bit, before you quickly relaxed, realizing it was just Dottore. You had been just standing here every day for a while.

“The breeze is nicer than I’d thought it would be. And the sea… it’s very pretty.” You smiled, looking back at the view. Even though only boring water surrounded you two for miles, it was still a fascinating sight. You had already taken a lot of pictures, but they couldn’t compare to the real thing. “I wish to continue to look at it,” you added because you already knew he’d try to pull you away and into the warmth of the cabin. He was silent at your response, and you thought you’d won him over when suddenly something heavy slipped around you.

His coat, which was much larger than you, pooled on the floor of the deck. It really wasn’t necessary, considering you were already wearing your own, but who were you to decline his kind offer?

“Don’t stay too long,” was his only warning, and you couldn’t help but giggle as you stepped closer to him, squeezing his hand when you suddenly remembered something important.

“Hey… speaking of, are you still motion sick, Zandik? Will you be okay?”

“I never had such a thing,” he clicked his tongue in annoyance, trying not to remember certain… events at the Akademiya that you still made fun of to this day.

The Fatui agents pretended not to hear your cackles and their Harbinger’s disgruntled responses the whole trip.

—

You had refused to go to sleep for hours now. Why? Because you would reach the docks of Sumeru by tonight, and you would not miss the moment for anything, even though your body was loudly protesting to get some rest. Surprisingly, Dottore didn’t object too much. Obviously, he’d expected this. You were grateful that he was being lenient for once. Anxiously, you continued to wait with bated breath, tapping the edge of the boat.

And then Port Ormos came into view. 

You were still quite a distance away but… you thought it was beautiful. There were boats that were even more large and luxurious, and you could hear the hustle and bustle of people still filling the port even though the moon had begun to settle in. But the lights around the port glowed magnificently, so familiar to what you remembered all those years ago. Oh, but the layout was certainly different… it was the same and yet it was not, change was evident but there were things that still reminded you of the past. Of… better times.

“Dottore, do you-” As you turned around to look for him, you found that he was already next to you, watching the port come into view as well. You immediately hooked your arm around his, pulling him closer as you practically jumped up and down in excitement. 

“Thank you again, Dottore. I am truly so happy…” You nuzzled your face into his arm, hoping he could feel how thankful you were. He stroked your hair with his free hand in response. 

“Just don’t stray too far tonight. You can do that tomorrow.”

When you finally got off the boat and set foot on not just any land but in Sumeru, you just wanted to go everywhere. You wanted to see everything, the new places and the old - most importantly, the ones you shared with Zandik. But you paid mind to his request and stayed in one place (mostly), instead pacing around in awe while he handled business with the agents. Besides, you didn’t want to draw too much attention to yourself anyway, not with all these people here.

The house you were staying at was a distance away from the city, not too far but it also gave you two a sense of peacefulness and quiet away from all the noise. It was perfect and you loved it, as it somewhat reminded you of living in the dorms with Zandik, although the architecture had changed since then. But you were still a bit… unsatisfied.

“Are you sure we can’t just stay up and do something…?” You asked drowsily, fighting off the very obvious sleepiness in your voice, while Dottore pulled the blankets over you. Although you were energetic a few moments ago from the thrill of it all, tiredness had quickly settled into your body after it was over. Still, it just felt a bit annoying to waste this precious time sleeping, and you looked at your husband with pleading eyes. He seemed to think about it, before answering you.

“If you can stay awake for ten more minutes, then we can,” Dottore indulged your request, knowing full well that you would be knocked out by then. But you seemed more than ready to take on this challenge.

“I… I can do that! Alright, talk to me, Zandik,” you urged him, hoping a conversation with him would help you fight the sleepiness.

“You said that you created a list for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I did!” You tugged on his arm, pulling him closer as he was only sitting on the edge of the bed rather than lying next to you. Knowing him, he was probably going to try doing some work… somehow, despite being miles away from Snezhnaya. “I want to walk around the city first… oh, but we need to eat first. You know the good places, right? I know the segments have been here many times… they told you, right?” You continued to prattle on, forcing back your yawns.

“Naturally.”

“Good, good… we need to go into as many stores as possible. I have a lot of gifts to buy,” you rubbed your eyes to continue getting the sleepiness out of your system.

“You do, indeed.”

“Mhm. And a lot of… pictures,” you yawned, the fluffiness and softness of the pillows and sheets overtaking your senses. “We should visit the forest too. If only we could explore a ruin again…”

“We will, one day in the future.”

“Yeah… do you want to go anywhere, Zandik?” You had moved his hand that was held hostage to your cheek, enjoying the warmth.

“I already have plans for us to go somewhere later.” You forced your eyes open to blink at him in surprise.

“Really?” Despite being on the verge of slumber, that grabbed your attention very much.

“Of course.”

“...I am admittedly a bit concerned at how thoughtful you’re being, Zandik. Are you going to experiment on me when we get back?” You couldn’t help but tease him, however, it was still true that this was a bit strange coming from a person like Il Dottore. You were used to receiving his love in an… unconventional manner, that was just Dottore-like. It was hard to explain.

“Your lack of faith in me is rather heartbreaking, [Name],” he said in a similar, more sarcastic tone. “Perhaps I will run a few tests on you later.” You giggled in protest as he began to move his hand downward, tracing lines on your neck until he rested on your pulse, teasingly stroking the area. Your laughter had turned into yawns the more the seconds went by.

“So… how many minutes have passed?”

“Less than five.”

“Aww… well, I can keep going…” your voice dipped in volume the more you spoke, your grip on his arm becoming looser as you finally succumbed to sleep. He let himself feel you for a bit longer until he pulled away, moving your body into a comfortable position so you wouldn’t be sore, and then looked back to watch you. 

The rise and fall of your chest had always been something that brought him a sense of relief. It was the tangible sense of it that reassured him, always being the man who favored facts over fallacy. Your heartbeat along with the movement of your chest, and sometimes the small noises you made, were all things he checked for once you slipped off to the land of dreams. A doctor, a scholar, or a scientist could never be too careful.

A lover could not either.

—

Although waking up early wasn’t one of your favorite things, you did it anyway because this birthday wasn’t something you wanted to squander. The warm morning sun spilled into the room, a feeling that was never to be found in Snezhnaya. Rubbing your eyes, you realized Dottore was again at the side of the bed getting ready, just as he was last night. Your rustling movements alerted him to your consciousness. 

“Finally up, are you?” Dottore was always up early, well, it was more like he never went to sleep in the first place. You yawned in response before turning over to face him better, admiring his bare chest through his half-buttoned shirt, but more importantly, his lovely face that was not yet covered by that mask of his.

“Mhm,” you hardly mustered a response before smiling, continuing to nuzzle into the pillows, admiring your husband who always managed to look so good to you, especially when all the finer details were highlighted by all the light coming in. It was surely a sight to see as well, watching him put on that complicated outfit…

“Are you going to continue staring, or are you going to start getting ready?” His tone was more teasing for your wandering eyes rather than displeased. 

“So mean,” you giggled, finally sitting up and stretching before wrapping your arms around him, pressing your chest against his back. “I’m just glad the first thing I saw today was your handsome face.” He had no response as you kissed his neck, leaving soft kisses downward as his hair tickled your cheek.

“Here. Now carry me,” you pulled away and spread your arms out, patiently waiting as he turned back to look at you with narrowed eyes. “What? It’s my birthday, you should listen to my requests.” He paused to examine your bright smile and hopeful grin before he acquiesced.

“As you wish,” he replied, then wrapped a single arm around your side and hoisted you up rather inelegantly as you awkwardly dangled above the floor.

“H-Hey! Be gentle!” You squealed at the rough treatment before it turned to giggles, as you then got ready for the outing with your husband’s help.

—

The streets of Sumeru were everything you knew yet nothing at the same time. So many people going about their lives, Akademiya students walking about as well, mumbling about their research and exams and everything that came with being a scholar. Walking up the tree-woven bridges and staring from above, the view simply too beautiful for words to describe.

But…

All of the stores and buildings you once knew were gone, replaced with new ones. You knew that after so long nothing you’d remember would still be there, but deep down you hoped for something concrete to remind you of the past, if only to ease your heart for everything you missed out on. The only thing that remained the same was the Akademiya, though it certainly looked upgraded. Speaking of the Akademiya… if only you could set foot there again with him… pretending to be a student in the House of Daena like once before… but those days were long gone.

“You couldn’t possibly have thought the same things from centuries ago would still be here,” he sighed as you buried your face into his shoulder with disappointment.

“Well, you’re right but, I don’t know… there might have been a long-running family business or something,” you mumbled, appreciating his warmth and scent. At least you still had him after all the years.

“There is no need to fret. There are many things here you’d like.” Dottore attempted to comfort you, which wasn’t a lie. He knew the kind of things you were interested in. After a few moments, you shifted to look at him, nipping at his shirt before pulling away and grabbing his hand resolutely.

“Hmph, I know that. Now come, we need to see if this Puspa Café can compete with the one we used to study at,” you tugged on his arm, and he grinned, delighting in your whimsicality. 

—

By the end of the evening, you were sure you knew the face of every vendor there was in the city. Practically everywhere had been explored by you (and Dottore in tow, who was dragged along.)

Gifts had already been acquired - your favorite being an Aranara toy for Zandy. You considered the cookbooks as a shared gift, seeing as you’d make the food for everyone. It was always quite hard to pick something out for them, this was the many versions of Il Dottore after all… Still, it was a good thing you had agents to carry the items back. Poor things.

You also made sure to get your fill of delicious Sumerian food as well. Sure, certain things could be imported, and there were chefs in the Fatui, but it would never taste quite as good as it did here. And oh, the pictures. There were a lot of pictures. Nothing was off the table - the scenery, the animals… Dottore watched in silence, tapping his finger as you even took pictures of the food. And of course, you posed next to many things but especially the kitty cats.

“There can never be enough photos of me on your desk, Zandik. And I need to share them with all the other segments too! Now keep taking them,” you demanded, your poor Harbinger husband feeling more like your temporary maid as he fulfilled the most ludicrous requests for you, only for today of course.

“Come, come, let me see them now!” You ran back to him, eager to see the (hopefully) pretty photos. As you began to shuffle through the pictures, your smile gradually dropped while you could feel the smugness radiating from Dottore.

“…You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you, Zandik?” You looked up at him, completely unamused… because all of the photos he had taken just now were perfectly imperfect - the wind had messed with your hair or outfit, someone interrupted, you were being harassed by a bug…

“I fulfilled your request, did I not? I merely took the pictures as you asked.” You narrowed your eyes at him before pressing your finger into his chest.

“Listen here you, normally I find it adorable when you’re being cheeky and annoying,” you paused to stab him again with your finger, “but I will not tolerate it today of all days. I know we both remember the last time I gave you the treatment. Now be a good little husband and actually take good photos.”

“You’re rather feisty today, aren’t you dear?”

By now, the sun would soon begin to set, signaling the day would be coming to a close. The sky would slowly change into a brilliant hue, the perfect thing to gaze upon after a lovely day. You were… content, despite all the worries and less-than-nice feelings that sometimes rose to the surface, which you desperately beat back down for you didn’t want to think about that now.

But you knew the day wasn’t over yet. The whole time, Dottore’s words lingered in your mind - the promise of taking you somewhere. You wondered where it was. The best you could guess was the giant Ruin Guard you two used to visit back when you two were students… perhaps he wanted to see it again. You would be interested in knowing if that note he left in there survived for so long… 

“So, would you say it’s time for you to reveal your secret plan, Zandik? It’s been on my mind all day, you know.” You tapped the railing as you watched the clouds float in the sky, trying to find any shapes that looked familiar. Dottore watched from behind you, his eyes more focused on your pretty frame.

“I was waiting for you to finish this little adventure of yours. You’ve been so busy, how could I possibly interject?” Your husband moved to stand next to you, the black fluff of his outfit tickling your shoulder.

“And I thank you for your very much appreciated patience. I know you’d rather be tinkering with something than following me around,” you chuckled, relishing in the closeness of his body.

“Nonsense. Even I value the time I have to admire your many expressions. It brings much amusement, especially the idiotic ones,” he hummed as he took his hand in yours, tugging you forward as you ignored the little tease.

“So… where are we going exactly?” You squeezed his hand as you followed Dottore, simply trusting him. You had always loved Dottore’s hands. They were big and fit perfectly in your own, reassuring you whenever he ran them over your body. It was the same hands that took so much from others… but always gave to you.

“You’ll see.”

“Can I at least have a hint? Or what we’re going to do there?”

“You’ll see,” he repeated while you huffed in disappointment, but then he paused, seemingly wanting to say something more. “It is a place you showed me.” You raised your eyebrows but didn’t pry anymore. 

Soon the path dwindled, the noise from the city fading as two you got further and further away, and you instead decided to appreciate the atmosphere of the walk. However, your legs had gotten very tired from all the walking earlier, even though you took numerous breaks in the city, and you were struggling to keep up the pace now. But you were too shy to tell him about the problem.

It was a good thing your husband happened to be an observant doctor.

Dottore’s pace lessened so you could catch your breath, and then he stopped completely to sweep you off your feet, something your body was far too grateful for. Your sigh of relief was also quite audible, much to your displeasure.

“The path ahead is dangerous. It is better if you don’t walk,” he said simply, sparing you the embarrassment. You whispered a quiet thank you as he carried your body bridal style with complete ease, your head nuzzled into his shoulder while your fingers played with his shirt and accessories. (You always wondered how he wore all those hanging things… when you tried putting all of them on before, your back hurt… really bad.)

He was right - the path was steep and rocky, hard for the average person to walk. There were some monsters, but he didn’t even need to draw his blade to kill them of course. Even though you were more interested in cuddling into his chest, the journey seemed familiar… very familiar in fact, and you suddenly thought hard about where you could be going. It had to be some place during the Akademiya time… 

You blinked again at the scenery and then you saw the past again. 

Ah, how could you forget? The time you dragged the unwilling scholar from his dorm, all because you wanted to show him a special place (and get him out of that stuffy room for once, all he wanted to go to was to class, the dorm, or to some ruin for investigation.) You helped him through the whole hike, defeating the enemies easily as he panted behind you. You only ended up going there once with him due to all the hassle it took, but it was so worth it because the view was-

Absolutely breathtaking, you thought, as you set sight on the place after over four hundred years. To be exact, it was just a very large flower field filled with dainty Sumeru Roses, but it was just so pretty, along with a clear, unfiltered view of the pure sky. The smell was always so pleasant too, the perfect place to relax. The last time here, you forced him to lay back and just relax (which he was not a fan of, he bought his books anyway.)

Dottore had set you down carefully, making sure your feet weren’t too wobbly, so you could take a few steps into the field.

“It’s just as beautiful as I remember,” you sighed happily. “I… I can’t believe you actually remember this place,” you got a bit flushed at how he remembered this, especially when you loved it so. Your eyes roamed about, trying to take in every detail when you noticed there was something spread out a bit in the distance. You took a few more steps while Dottore followed closely behind, still silent. Soon, you were in front of a soft blanket, along with a picnic basket, the delicious aroma wafting out.

“This is…” The words didn’t quite make it out of your mouth as you kept looking back and forth between the picnic and your husband. Meanwhile, Dottore didn’t seem phased in the slightest as he ushered you to the ground. A few containers were emptied onto the blanket, packaged just the way you used to when you were a student. Did he copy you? Not to mention…

“These are the same things I made for you for our last picnic…” Obviously, he couldn’t have cooked these himself or he’d have blown up someone’s kitchen, but his memory was quite exceptional. You always specifically made these dishes because they were loved by both of you.

“Eat before it gets cold. Though… the flavor lacks in comparison to what you make,” he seemed slightly disappointed by the quality as he bit into the samosa. Perhaps this was why he barely ate anything all day. You, on the other hand, were still… flabbergasted, your jaw moving to speak and then freezing up. You furrowed your eyebrows before you moved much closer, gripping his shirt and yanking on it.

“…Who are you, and what have you done with Dottore?”

“…Pardon?”

“I’m asking who you are and what have you done with the real Dottore!” You exclaimed as you pulled him back and forth while he looked at you blankly, surprisingly more with confusion than amusement.

“Alright, how many times have you apologized to me in your numerous centuries of life?”

“Three times.”

“How long did you kick me out of the dorm when-”

“Four days, thirteen hours, and fourty-seven minutes.”

“Okay… how many pens did you end up breaking on the expedition when we got trapped in that one ruin in the desert?”

“Nine.” You blinked at him carefully before scooting back, satisfied with your little interrogation.

“…So- so, you’re the real thing, huh? Hmph, I- well, it is about time you did something like this. I always had to organize all the picnic dates back then you know,” you brushed it off, trying to not show how touched you were by this, your heart stuttering badly. It was so simple, but all so meaningful. It showed that Dottore paid attention to you, only to someone as ordinary and weak as you, nothing escaping his watchful eye. Quickly, you tried to shake off the sudden emotion bubbling in your chest as you continued to defend yourself.

“You can’t blame me for this, by the way. Doing all this is awful strange for you,” you stated. The way he was acting was almost a bit perturbing. You never would have thought him to care so much. 

“I only copied exactly what you did. Hardly any effort was required on my part,” he always said such things so casually, as if it was meaningless (which could be good or bad, depending on the situation.) But things like these always made your heart race, made you think that at least you were special to him. You decided not to continue the topic.

You plopped your head onto his lap, beginning to reach for something to munch on when he stopped you.

“Don’t eat lying down. It’s bad for your health.”

“Aww, but you're so nice and cozy down here.”

The time flew by quickly after that, words swept away by the gentle breeze. After a bit of prodding you were able to get him to start rambling about that one experiment that was giving him a headache, an update that you were interested in but more so listening to his voice. You loved when he did this - not many people know how much of a talker he could be. 

In the meantime, you also idled by weaving some flowers together. You had done this last time too - the blush on his cheeks gave you a good laugh. Though your hands trembled from how much precision the braiding of the stems took, you continued on slowly anyway. 

“There we go,” you let out a sigh of relief as the stems were finally connected into a crown, even though it definitely wasn’t your best work. You glanced at Dottore, who was still ranting on (about the banker this time), and then placed it on him, which he momentarily paused at the sensation, fingers reaching up to brush against the flowers.

“Hmm… it’s a bit lopsided, but it suits you, cutie,” you smiled at the work of art you created - your husband adorned with Sumeru Roses, to be exact. He rubbed his fingers between the soft petals before placing the crown on your head instead.

“It suits your features far more.” Heat rose to your cheeks as you shook your head.

“Such a smooth talker. I feel as though our places have been swapped,” you exhaled softly, remembering how you were the one always blatantly flirting with him in the Akademiya. “Ah, wait, I still have one more request!” There was one thing you wanted to do for the whole day.

Your trusty Kamera was released again as you looked at him with pleading eyes, the device aimed toward him. Dottore let out a great sigh. As much as he enjoyed sharing new mechanical tools with you, you could get… really into them. Especially because he kept tweaking them to make them better for you. Though he supposed he shouldn’t blame you too much… as long as it kept you satisfied. 

“I believe you’ve taken plenty.”

“Well, yes, I have… but none of you, beloved!”

Even though you had taken a lot of pictures, none of them included Dottore unfortunately. He wasn’t very fond of the idea of you having such… soft photos of him in possession. He knew exactly the kind of person you were, and what you could do with them, more specifically… who you could show them to. 

“Come on…” You cozied up to him, nuzzling yourself against your lover. “My scrapbook longs for more pictures of my one and only dear husband. Just one picture. One is all I ask! I’ll even take one of only your back profile if-”

“Do what you will, but make it quick,” he gave in begrudgingly, much to your pleasure. You gave him a good smooch on his cheek for that as you scooted back, getting into a better position to angle your Kamera. 

“Could I get a smile? A pose? Your eyes?”

“Don’t push your luck too much, [Name].” You grinned cheekily at his response.

The audible click of the Kamera sounded, and then the photo printed out. In a few moments, his face appeared on it, and you sighed in contentment. He was so handsome, and the background was perfect too.

“Satisfied?” He questioned, to which you nodded. “Now give it here.” You passed him the photo and he looked at it briefly, before motioning for the device in your hand. You were a bit confused as to why he wanted your Kamera but you gave it to him anyway.

“What? Are you confiscating it now?” You giggled. He fiddled with it, fingers gliding over the buttons as you watched curiously, and then all of a sudden it was pointed at you, the snapping sound catching you way off guard. He similarly copied your previous motions, looking rather pleased at your scattered self that he managed to capture.

“Ah- hey! At least let me fix myself first!” You fruitlessly lunged at Dottore to try and take back that unflattering picture of yourself, but of course, he was much stronger and faster than you.

“This one is for my personal use. I see no problem, you do the same thing, do you not?” He smiled smugly, as you gave up rather quickly, grumbling about how cruel he was.

—

So much time had ended up passing that nighttime was in full swing, the only thing illuminating the sky was the brilliant stars that shined above. Your birthday was drawing to a close. Dottore had already quietly whispered the words to you, as he always did.

You were happy. Happy to have spent this time away from that lab, away from seeing snow for miles and miles. It really did feel refreshing. And of course, you were happy to spend time with the one you valued above all. The feeling had left you feeling lighter than you had in a while, and you were busy snuggling up to Dottore while you gazed at the stars.

But then he spoke.

“[Name].”

“Yes?” 

“How have you been as of late?”

“Hmm? Well, I’m fine. You know, same old, same old.” You lazily shrugged your shoulders, though you were a bit caught off guard by the question. He seemed to ponder your answer, fingers drumming against you in a contemplating manner. He wondered if he should press you - you had been far more lively today than you were lately, and he was not sure if it would be wise to leave a sour taste in your mouth.

“And what about you? How have you been, Zandik? Still sitting at a desk for twenty-four hours straight?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Usually, you’re more than aware of my habits, considering you always barge in to change it.” You opened your mouth to respond, but your throat had gone dry because you knew what he was suggesting. You hadn’t really been visiting him or the segments lately.

“What? Do you miss me that easily?” You forced a smile onto your face, hoping to just play off the situation.

“And what if I said I do?” Whatever words you had prepared had disappeared and gotten stuck in your throat. He used to be so horrible with lovey-dovey words, and yet he managed to pull them out so casually sometimes. You breathed in.

“I… you see…” It was embarrassing really, how easy it was for him to break down the walls you hardened so desperately. Or maybe you were just weak. You had been dismissing any hint of pity from all the segments and him for so long, but it seemed like it was all catching up to you now. The light feeling you just had was beginning to quickly revert back to the heaviness that weighed on your heart.

“It’s nothing really,” you still try to deflect the question. You try to roll over too, just so he doesn’t have to see your face contort with all your stupid feelings, but his grip is far too strong for you to ever break free. 

“Your face is very easy to read, darling. Why do you not simply tell me what ails you?” You already saw this coming. You two have done this so many times, and each time you never fail to feel like a burden.

“…Because it’s the same conversation every time, Zandik. I don’t know how many times I can continue to tell you everything… my body, my health… it’s always the same thing.” 

You cannot help but think that surely he would prefer a more… active partner, one who could follow him around and be at his beck and call, assisting him with his intriguing research and experiments, one who could easily match his level, elevating his progress more and more. Not… you who struggled with tasks that should be as simple as breathing, and was more like a thorn in his side than anything else. 

You could list so many traits and things about him that could effortlessly show how he far exceeded the average person, even the Gods, how could you ever hope to live up to him? To a person who he deserved? You recall every time you ended up sobbing your heart out to him about these foolish matters, and yet every time he would listen, further ruining his research and schedule and- and, everything.

“I see,” he responds, his grip on you growing tighter, noticing your unleveled breathing. It is silent for a few moments, and you know he’s thinking of what to say, to ease your worries. It’s probably nothing you haven’t heard already though, so before he could waste his time, you interrupt him.

“Zandik. It’s my birthday. Let’s not talk about such things,” your voice is quiet and on the verge of being uncontrollably shaky. You ignore the prick of tears at the corner of your eyes and opt for hugging your husband instead. You hope that he takes pity on you and decides to let it go.

Dottore strokes your head for a few moments before pulling you back and taking off his mask, your eyes trembling as you struggle to look at him. 

“Look at me,” he says, as he thumbs your chin, preferring for you to listen instead of him forcing you like he usually does. You let out a soft sigh and eventually comply, only because you know that he always gets what he asks for when he’s like this. When you do look at him, his face doesn’t have a hint of softness, instead, it’s serious and solemn as he stares at you resolutely.

The look he gives you says that he’ll make sure you’re here for the next birthday, and the one after that, and all the ones decades and centuries from now, no matter what sins may stain his hands. You can only admire it for a few moments before you lean your head down. Even though he claimed not to be good at comfort and whatnot, he always made you happy… especially when it mattered.

“I love you, Zandik. So much. I don’t know what I’d do without you…” your words come out quieter than you want them to, but you got the message out anyway. Zandik doesn’t respond, but when he tilts your chin to kiss you, you know that he feels the same. You let him push you down on the blanket again, continuing to kiss you as he held your body firmly. You don’t know how much time passes, but the world is even darker now.

“It’s getting late,” Dottore commented, rubbing circles on your palm. You only weakly squeeze back in response. “Perhaps we should get back now.”

“Aren’t we leaving for Snezhnaya first thing tomorrow morning?” Dottore nodded in response to your question. “Then let me treasure this moment for a bit longer. Who knows when we’ll be able to do this again?” You looked away from him to the sky that was now dark, the stars glimmering above the two of you. Dottore’s gaze remained on you until he too looked away to share the same view as you.

“Very well,” he gave into your request and a comfortable silence fell between the two of you, as you moved your hand to intertwine with his own more firmly. The two of you said nothing as you continued to share the moment with each other, until the very end.

Il Dottore wasn’t a good man. Many people froze in fear at the mere mention of his name, their bodies cold at the thought of what he had done, and what he could do. He wasn’t the best lover either. You two didn’t always get along, there were obviously times he upset and frustrated you. Any normal person could probably think of a hundred reasons as to why you shouldn’t stay with Dottore.

But you knew that whatever remained of Zandik’s heart loved you, and that was all that mattered.

[yogurtkags]

❝ DISTANT DESIRES ❞ — miya atsumu (18+)

cw. MDNI, f!reader, timeskip!atsumu, established relationship, pet names (baby, princess, darling), fluff to smut, sexting, sending risqué photos, teasing, phone sex, masturbation, language, dirty talk, not beta read word count. ~ 2.3k synopsis. atsumu’s away and misses the way you feel against his skin before a big game.

shutting down and closing your laptop, you push yourself up from the uncomfortable desk chair, groaning as you twist and turn, popping your neck and back as you stretch the tense muscles. another day at the office, done and dusted.

you switch out your fluffy fox office slippers for the black slingbacks you came in, walking towards the large floor-to-ceiling windows to take in the scene before you. the sun has set, the moon slowly coming out to play — it’s a friday night, groups of friends and couples alike take the streets to celebrate the end of a busy work week. city lights shine over the crowded roads, hustle and bustle illuminated by the vibrant colours of osaka’s nightlife.

you’d be one with the crowd below if not for the fatigue of crunch time seeping deep into your bones, it’s been one hell of a day, a week even, you’ve lost all concept of time, feeling a little more drained than usual without your love here.

the msby black jackals have a series of away games in tokyo, so naturally, atsumu’s been away for the past couple of days, and you miss him dearly. you understood why he had to go, it just didn’t make sense for him to make the commute everyday and waste precious time that could be spent resting, even if it meant still being by your side. it doesn’t make you miss him any less though, you’ve never been apart from him for more than a day since he asked you to move in with him two summers ago, and you feel it even more so now that he’s put on a ring on your finger.

casting one last look at the files and mountains of paperwork, you sigh, packing up your things and swinging your tote over your shoulder, preparing to finally leave the office. the rest of the floor is empty and the lights are dimmed, pretty much everyone in the building has already left for the night. honestly you were too busy to even notice, feeling stressed is an understatement with multiple deadlines looming.

bzzt. bzzt. your phone buzzes as you’re exiting the main elevator and walking to your parked car— 2 new messages from tsumu ♡

tsumu ♡ : hi princess tsumu ♡ : i miss you

just his name alone is enough to perk you up and put a smile on your weary face, spreading a warmth in your soul, like a fireplace crackling to life in a chilly cabin up in the northern mountains in the dead of winter.

me : hi baby me : i miss you too :(

climbing into the driver's seat, you allow yourself to sink into the leather seats, quickly shooting him a message that you'll be driving in case you take a while to respond and that you'll text him when you get home, getting the car started and heading home.

in the meantime, atsumu's sprawled out on his back over the plush ivory sheets on his queen bed, fresh out of the shower after practice and dinner with the boys, lazily toying with his phone while staring at the ceiling. he thinks the bed's much too large for just him alone, still defaulting to laying on his side of the bed — it's a force of habit that comes with living together, missing the warmth of your embrace and the scent of your strawberry vanilla shampoo lingering on what would've been your pillow.

he knows you’ve been slaving away at work while he was gone, you’re usually home by now but if you’re only just leaving the office at this hour, you’re probably clocking voluntary overtime just to clear as much off your plate as possible. you never liked bringing work home anyway.

he hopes you’ve been taking care of yourself, not that you don’t normally, but you tend to get stuck in your head sometimes when you’re busy and pushed to the limits. regardless, he always worries, despite you telling him that you’re a big girl and can take care of yourself, that he shouldn’t worry his pretty lil head about you.

atsumu thinks he has a growing distaste for away games. they usually mean that he has to be away from you, meaning he’s a tad bit more grouchy than usual, a bit more snappy, much to the team’s chagrin. there’s no point searching the stands for you when you won’t be there, no you to kiss him good luck before lining up, no you to dick down the night before for some fun, overnight loving and a good night’s sleep.

well, lady luck seems to be on his side because little did he know, you’d be coming home to find a very exciting parcel sitting at your doorstep.

you on the other hand, are slightly puzzled. strange, you didn’t receive any delivery notifications, but you won’t say no to a haul. who knows, it might just be what you need at the end of a shitty day, a little retail therapy doesn’t hurt nobody.

stepping out of your shoes and leaving your coat hung by the door, you bring the cardboard box up on your kitchen counter, carefully slicing it open with the first knife you could find. with a gasp, you lift up the contents of the box to find a very lovely set of lace lingerie. i forgot i ordered this.

in a burst of excitement, you immediately bring the dainty piece of fabric to the bedroom, peeling off your black pencil skirt and white button up. putting it on, you stand in front of floor length mirror, hands lightly tracing over the fine details of patterned lace in admiration. it’s beautiful, hugging your figure in all the right places, and you happen to know someone who would love it even more.

flicking on the light switch of your shared walk-in closet, your eyes zero-in on a green shoe box sitting in the corner of the room. it’s tucked away, no one’s ever really needed it, the contents being kept more so for nostalgic purposes, but you’re really hoping what you’re looking for is still in there.

kneeling down to open it up, you come face to face with atsumu’s high school jersey. inarizaki’s #7. perfect, just what you were looking for.

with a mischievous glint in your eyes, you put the jersey on. atsumu’s definitely grown larger and more buff in the several years since high school, but he wasn’t by any means small to begin with, the dri-fit material hanging loose on your frame and ending right by your upper thighs.

it unfortunately no longer smells like him, having been kept away for that long, but just a little spritz of his perfume should do the trick. it’s a far cry from having him here with you but it’ll do for now.

crawling into bed and getting tangled in the soft sheets, you raise the hem of the jersey just to tastefully expose your skimpily clad lower half, arching your back just a little and angling your phone to snap a photo. you’ve definitely taken more risqué photos in the past, for sure, but given you were both apart, much farther than just a short drive, you know this will be enough to set him off, leaving just enough room for imagination.

less than a minute after you hit send, your phone rings with an incoming call and checking the caller ID, sure enough, it’s atsumu.

biting back a smile, you feign innocence, propping your phone up between your ear and shoulder, picking at your manicured nails as you lean back against the soft pillows, “hi tsumu, everything okay?”

“come on, don’t play coy with me now baby, with my jersey too? you know exactly what you’re doin’.”

he is, as always, so so easy to rile up.

with a giggle, you egg him on, “i just wanted to show you what came in the mail today, isn’t it pretty?”

“it is, looks ravishing on you darling. you know exactly what i like don’t you? it’s in my favourite colour too.”

atsumu hums in delight, bringing the phone closer to his mouth and voice dropping barely above a whisper and muttering out the next few words, “though i must say, i think it looks better on the floor.”

you can’t help but bring your bottom lip between your teeth, sinful thoughts begin to run through your mind about what the night entails if this carries on. making sure he can hear your pouting through the phone, “mhmm but you’re not here to undress me, strip me of my clothes one article at a time.”

atsumu pictures you in your shared bed, mind conjuring images of you slowly peeling off your clothes, nipples perked as the cool night air hits your skin, peeking through the sheer lace fabric. he was already sporting a semi hard on, the beginning of an erection provoked by the delicious photo you sent earlier.

he can’t help but reach a hand down to touch himself over his boxers, letting out a desperate and breathy whine that you recognise all too well, “s-shit— baby, please, just help me out here.”

your eyes widened, breath hitching in your throat at the realisation, a wave of pleasure going straight to your heat.

breathing out an okay, you wiggle into a more comfortable position, bringing the collar of his jersey up to your nose and taking a deep inhale of his fragrance, closing your eyes and letting his voice and your imagination do the work for you.

your hands trail down your sides, pulling the delicate panties aside and letting your fingers brush against your clit, folds already glistening with arousal from the mere thoughts of atsumu laying in his bed, naked skin glazed with a sheen of sweat and pleasuring himself to pictures of you.

"talk to me, baby. can you describe to me what you’re doing?”

“touching myself, rubbing my clit.” you gasp, “feels good.”

“yeah? good girl, apply a little more pressure and when you’re ready, put a finger in for me?” he shakily breathes out, "i bet ya look real pretty right now."

you do as you’re told, clenching around your finger, his simple praise shooting straight to your core. oh how quickly the tables have turned, from taunting him to eagerly following his instructions without any second thoughts.

you can almost hear the wet sounds of his hand spreading the precum over his length and his strokes over his cock gradually increasing in speed, his voice breathless and broken,"that's it baby, slide another finger in?”

“that’s my good girl. imagine it's my thick fingers in your pussy right now." you moan at the delicious sensation, eyes squeezed shut as you pump your fingers in and out of your cunt. he hasn't been gone for long but you miss him so much, in more ways than one.

“i miss you so much, miss being inside you, your pretty face when you’re moaning my name, hmm?”

reaching up and rolling your nipples through the thin lace, you moan, “i do, i m-hah, miss you too tsumu!”

at this point, days worth of stress melts away as you chase your release, mind overwhelmed with pleasure as the saccharine voice of your lover leads you to an orgasm.

“i can’t wait to get back and fuck you for real, just doesn’t feel the same without you.” it’s almost like his phone is on his pillow right next to his face, sweet moans and groans tumbling out of atsumu’s mouth, straight into your ears, almost like he’s right here with you caged below him, breathing into your neck.

despite the distance, he feels so close, almost like he can touch you if he just reached forward, “keep going baby, don’t stop.”

your orgasm is building much faster than you initially anticipated, pleasure ripping through you as his wrecked voice and whimpering pushes you closer and closer to the edge as tears line your closed lids and threaten to spill over your cheeks.

“a-atsu!” you cry with urgency, grinding your sensitive bundle of nerves into the palm of your hand, barely holding on to the cusp of release. “atsu i’m gonna—“

“come on, let go f'me pretty.”

with a high-pitched cry, your body stiffens and the coil in your abdomen finally snaps, squeezing tight and releasing all over your fingers.

atsumu pictures it all too well, your muscles contracting under soft skin as you cum to his encouragement— that was the last push he needed and he’s letting out a string of expletives and sharp moans, sinking into the pale sheets as his release sputters over his stomach and lower abdomen.

the both of you lay in silence for a few moments, catching your breath as you come down from the high. you hear some movement through the phone, presumably atsumu cleaning up the mess he made on himself, before collapsing on the firm mattress again.

"man, i wish i could hold you and kiss you all over your pretty face." you can even hear the pout in his voice, heart clenching as you yearn to kiss it off his handsome face. all you can do at the moment is hum in response, wrapping your arms around a pillow and tucking your face into his jersey that you still had on, inhaling the scent of his perfume now mixed with your sweat, pretending that he’s here in bed with you.

regardless, you’re spent, the post-orgasm sleepiness paired with the long day you just had hitting you all at once and your eyes flutter shut, softly mumbling with a tired yet satisfied smile, “i love you, atsumu.”

“i love you too, princess.” atsumu sighs in quiet longing, “i’ll see you soon okay? be back before ya know it.”

bzzt. bzzt. just as he’s about to drift off into slumber, his phone buzzes with an unread message from kiyoomi in the adjoining suite next to his— 1 new message from omi-omi

omi-omi : next time you’re calling your fiancé and beating your meat, please keep it down

notes. @atsumou surprise >:) was listening to snooze - sza while adding the last touches reblogs & interactions are always appreciated !

© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.

[zeltqz]

I can’t stop thinking about Rin eating his girl out for a first time and cumming in his pants without even noticing. He would be so awkward and anxious ab it but so cute RAAAHHH

“I got a question,” you asked, turning to look at Rindou. 

“Shoot.” The two of you were on your bed, in the midst of cuddling, when you popped the question,

“Why haven’t you eaten me out yet?”

Rindou glanced at you. “Because I’ve never done it before.”

“You’re fucking lying.” Your mouth was open, shocked, as you sat up, looking down at the boy next to you. 

“I’m not.” Rindou had one arm behind his head and shrugged, the other fiddling with the blanket. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because you’re you,” you stated dumbly yet seriously, and Rindou simply arched his brow at you. 

“What?”

You huffed. “Want me to be blunt about it?”

“Sure.”

“How do you have the reputation you have and tell me right now you’ve never given a girl head?”

He shrugged again and you groaned, wondering if you were just making a big deal over nothing. You moved to lay back down and stared at your ceiling, coming to the conclusion that no, you weren’t in fact overreacting, yes this was weird, and no amount of him acting nonchalant could change that. 

“I’m sorry but it just doesn’t make sense!” you continued. Beside you, Rindou groaned. 

“If I knew you were gonna make a big deal out of this then I wouldn’t have told you.”

“I’m not making fun of you or anything. It’s just like wow. You know?”

He scrunched his nose. “Not really.”

“How would you react if I told you that I’d never sucked a dick before?”

“But you have. Mine,” he said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes.

“Well yeah. But that’s not the point.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I guess it'd be kinda weird.”

You interrupted him. “See—!”

“But it’s two different things,” he finished and your mouth slammed shut. “We aren’t the same.”

“What?” Dimly, you knew where he was going with this, and had to prepare yourself for the amount of bullshit he was about to spew out of his mouth. 

“Cause like. Blowjobs are a necessity in sex. How else are we supposed to get hard? It’s different because girls get wet regardless. I don’t need to eat you out to get you wet.”

You pinched your nose bridge. “That’s not the point.”

“What is the point then?”

“It’s about making us feel good.”

“You feel good during the actual sex, no?” he asked, turning to face you on his side. 

“Before you, not really. Maybe the guys I was with just sucked.”

“Unfortunate for you,” he chuckled, laughing when you threatened to suffocate him with your pillow. “Really though that’s unfortunate for you.”

“Yeah I know,” you sulked. “I’m over it now though. But I guess I understand you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like.” You also turned to face him, playing with the hem of his shirt. “I’m not a big fan of giving blowjobs cause they’re always rough with it and my jaw and throat hurts for days after. So I understand you kinda.”

“It’s not that I hate doing it. I just don’t see the point.”

“But whyyy ? Because it doesn’t benefit you?”

Rindou rubbed a hand over his face. “You’re making me sound like a dick.”

“Not me. Your responses are.”

“What, so you want me to eat you out? Is that where you’re going with this?” He looked you dead in the eye and you stammered. 

“W—what? Where’d you get that from?”

“You keep obsessing over the fact that I never gave head before.”

“Uh no! It’s just shocking, that’s all,” you defended, getting marginally more irritated when he still looked like he didn’t believe you. Scoffing, you rolled your eyes. “That doesn’t matter anyway. You wouldn’t be able to handle me,” you teased, a cheekily proud smile on your face as you shifted to lay back down.

“Girl, stop playing around and come here.” He put a gentle, but firm hand on your lower back and tugged you towards him. You kept laughing and brushed some hair out of his face, your hand lingering on his cheek as your eyes roamed all over his face. His eyes were a shade of violet you’d never seen before and the way he was looking at you right now has your stomach tightening in knots. 

His hand slid from your lower back, a warm heat following his palm as he skimmed over your ass, grabbing your thigh and jerked your leg over his hips. He leaned in and kissed you. It was soft and sweet and made you lose yourself in it for a moment before you came to a realisation and reluctantly pulled away. 

“Wait, you were serious?”

“Yeah?” He looked down at your chest, hand moving to your waist. “You thought I wasn’t?”

“Yeah. It just seems a bit…I dunno. I don’t want you to feel forced into doing it,” you whispered. He rolled his eyes and sat up, your back moving to lay flat as he rolled on top of you.

“Nobody can force me to do anything” he stated, and kissed you again. 

“I know but—” You barely had time to respond as his lips pressed against yours again. His hips lowered against yours and the growing erection in his shorts brushing against your inner thighs had you humming reverently into his mouth. “This feels different though,” you finished, out of breath as you finally gathered the strength to break away.

“Doesn’t have to be. It can be an experiment or something.” His head dipped down to leave a trail of ticklish kisses on your neck, body bowing up to press your chest against his. “Besides, I kinda wanna know how it feels now,” he mumbled against your skin.

“Really?” you asked, mildly embarrassed of the way your voice went high for a moment.

“Mmhm.” He sat up and grabbed your hips, lifted them up at an angle to help slide your shorts down, your panties following shortly after.

You didn’t have time to feel embarrassed as he spread your legs open, running his hands up and down your thighs as he eyed your exposed pussy. “Fuck,” he breathed, setting your hips back down on the bed.

“Rindou,” you whispered as he set himself between your legs. His eyes lingered on your beautiful pussy, how it was already wet, slick sticking to your folds. He licked his lips. He looked up at you and you smiled shyly, fighting the urge to hide your face in the pillow at the feeling of being so exposed to him. 

He gripped onto your thighs, nails digging into your skin as he dipped his head down, licking a long, experimental stripe up your pussy. Your mouth fell open, a slow, long, shaky breath escaping you. 

He gauged your reaction, licking another stripe just to watch your head fall back to the pillow, hands scrambling to touch his hair. He grinned and moved closer to your clit, throbbing and shiny from his saliva. The sound that escaped you when he sealed his lips around your clit and sucked was enough to instantly make him hard, his name a long breathy moan on your lips that had him fighting to grind futilely into your bed to relieve some pressure.

He gained some more confidence and began sucking and licking at your pussy, the taste of you sweet and addictive on his tongue. Rindou wasn’t sure what he was expecting but it wasn’t this. He found himself with this desperate desire to pull as many sounds from you as possible. His tongue, flicking repeatedly against your clit, slid down to your hole, hesitating for a moment before gently pushing it through and the way you keened had him groaning into your cunt. He tongue licked in every direction inside you, fucking in and out, and making the wettest mess on your pussy. His nose brushed against your clit as he moved his face side to side, taking in your scent.

Rindou wasn’t an idiot. He’d seen porn before. He knows how to make a girl scream with his cock, and fingers, but never his tongue. Before he’d never seen the appeal of eating pussy, and before your conversation today, he wouldn’t have been open to the idea. But laying here now, the bottom half of his face drenched in your wetness, and your thighs squishing against the sides of his head, he realised he didn’t want to stop. 

Not even as you came, your walls pulsing tight against his tongue, his arms wrapping around both your thighs to keep you down even as your hips began to twitch. He exploded in his pants. He didn’t even realise, not as his mind was distracted with repeating your moans on loop, on keeping you down on the bed as you tried to squirm away from his tongue. He kept licking and sucking, and kissing your folds until they were puffy and overstimulated. 

He wanted to see your face, what kind of expression you were making but you refused to look at him, two hands covering the sight. He closed his eyes and sucked your clit, feeling it throb in his mouth. Everything was so addictive, the taste of you, the feeling of digging his hands into your thighs, the way your hips couldn’t stay still.

“I can’t—Rin, please,” you begged, voice worn out. “It’s too much.”

“Just a bit more,”  he mumbled, pushing your legs to your chest. He readjusted himself to lick deeper into your pussy, holding your legs by the ankles as you struggled to take anymore of this. “Fuck you taste so good.” He let go of one ankle and spread your folds apart with two fingers, flicking his tongue against your pussy. His face was buried in your sex, eyes squeezed impossibly shut as his mouth sloppily kissed and licked like a starved man.

He hummed and smiled when your entire body jolted. Your hand flew to your mouth and your back arched, gripping the sheets as you came for the second time, your entire body buzzing and you shook, toes curling as you rocked through it. 

He sat up and you watched through tired eyes as he swiped a hand over his face. You raised your arms up and he lowered himself until you wrapped your arms around his neck. He slid his hands under your thighs, lifting you up, and you squealed, wrapping your legs around his hips. 

You pulled him in for a kiss, his tongue tangling with yours. All you could taste was yourself and your face heated up when you realised. He pulled your bottom lip into your mouth and bit it, your moan stuttering off into a groan. You broke the kiss and looked down as he settled you back on the bed, your hand drawn to the hard bulge in his boxers. 

He hissed when you grabbed his cock, then froze as your hand touched something wet. You slowly peeled your hand away and brought it up to your face, your eyes going wide at the strings of cum sticking to your palm.

“Did you…?”

“What?” Rindou looked at you confused before he felt a wet patch in his pants. “Oh my fucking god.” 

“Did you seriously bust in your pants without noticing?”

“Laugh and I’ll kill you.” Your face contorted as you tried to keep from smiling, the facade breaking as you burst into a fit of giggles and laughter, holding your stomach.

“I said you couldn’t handle me, and I was right!”

He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling blood rush to his cheeks turning them to a sensitive pink hue. “Please stop laughing.”

“Oh my god.” You smiled at him, the expression so endearing for a minute he forgot his humiliation until you started giggling again, seeing his blush. 

“I swear I didn’t even feel it,” he sighed, flopping down next to you. You pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“I won’t tell anyone don’t worry. It was cute.”

It definitely wasn’t his finest moment, and he still doesn’t know how or why his body reacted that way, but the fact remains that this moment will be engraved in his memory every single time he eats pussy in the foreseeable future.

“Oh my god,” he groaned, covering his face, ears heating up when you started cackling again.

“Stop laughing right now before I bring up the time you almost puked when sucking me off.” Your laughter immediately died as you stared at him, his smirk only growing. “Or the time you farted when on top. Or the time you—”

“Finish the last one and I’ll kill you,” you threatened, voice serious.

His mouth was still open, his eyebrows raising as he gauged your reaction. “When you burped in the middle of making out,” he finished and you sat up quickly, smothering him in the face with a  pillow.

[sabertoothwalrus]

I’ve seen you post some labru stuff and I’m curious what your thoughts on it are. personally I don’t see it? I can buy Kabru having feelings for Laios, but I think Laios wouldn’t be interested in Kabru, so it makes me wonder why so many people ship them. (Tbh I feel like Kabru has more chemistry with Mithrun anyway)

Sorry if this ask sounds rude, I just genuinely don’t understand the appeal of the ship, but I want to understand and I trust your analysis of characters very much :] maybe there’s something I’m missing

I really like both ships, actually!

For labru, there’s sooooo much I could talk about. The inherent homoeroticism of being narrative foils. The inherent homoeroticism of being the king’s advisor. All of chapter 76. The fact that Kabru has mask upon mask upon mask, and Laios is the first person that made his facade absolutely crumble.

Kabru struggles with being genuine!!! Everything he says and does is so perfectly calculated, even when he sort of means it. But since Laios doesn’t get social cues, Kabru gets thrown for a loop.

I get so frustrated when people act like Kabru still hates Laios by the end of the manga!!!!! He killed those corpse retrievers for being corrupt, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to kill Laios. He has such a strong sense of justice, and knew that killing Laios would be a mistake. Because, after meeting him, he could tell he wasn’t actually evil. He’s strange, sure, but not evil.

Kabru DEFINITELY wants to be friends with Laios!! He was not lying about this!!!

But this last comic shows how much Laios wants to be friends with Kabru, too. He’s so nervous after calling Kabru his friend 😭 he doesn’t want to be presumptuous and fuck it up again.

Laios does show an interest in Kabru, at least when Laios thinks he’s interested in eating monsters too. Like,, what was up with THIS

Laios’s gaze is LINGERING. Plus, (this is before that bit at Thistle’s house when he forgets his name) he brings up Kabru when they first form their plan to eat Falin.

And maybe this is just because of my own personal experiences, but Laios reminds me a lot of my own girlfriend. I think they have a similar flavor of gay/aspec & autism combo where, had I not asked her out first, she probably never would have considered being interested in me. But she was very down when I did.

The tricky part about labru is more the political aspect. Regardless of whether you see Laios as aroace or not, he’s in a situation where he will probably get married. He had a fiancée before he was age 13, likely betrothed since he was a baby. He’s already comfortable with the idea of getting married because He’s Supposed To.

However, Laios is king, and could make gay marriage legal if he wanted to (He would probably do this for his sister and Marcille before considering it for himself ). But at the same time, I think Kabru would object to Laios making whatever policies he wants without considering the repercussions of how other kingdoms might react, especially when they’re just getting Melini off the ground and need lots of support from other countries. Laios and Kabru getting gay married anyway and dealing with the aftermath could make for a really compelling story.

I do think Kabru would be a good ruler. He’s already fit for it. He speaks a dozen languages, he knows people and their motivations, and likes politics. The manga already joked about Chilchuck’s daughters trying to marry a king, so it seems like noble blood isn’t too important, but Kabru’s foster family IS nobility. When it comes to heirs, I do like trans Kabru headcanons, but at the same time, I think it’d be cute if they adopt anyway. Kabru seems like he’d have strong feelings about adoption given,,, yknow.

The alternative version of labru to this is Laios gets straight married out of obligation, and Kabru is his mistress hdhdhshsj. I don’t know if I could see Laios doing that? or if Kabru would risk the scandal of being outed as Royal Advisor and Regent trying to seduce the king. It could go SO downhill. but maybe that would be fun.

NOW FOR KABUMISU.

I knew people shipped them, and I could see the basis for it while reading, but I wasn’t really sold on it until the very end. There’s something about “I had no desires left. I decided to create new desires, and one of them is you” that’s really charming.

There’s also something funny about “the demon ate my heterosexuality so I’m gay now”

I think it’s interesting that Kabru hates elves. He was raised by them, and he hates them. He hates feeling patronized by them. He made absolutely sure that elves wouldn’t take control over Melini, not just for his sake, but for Rin’s.

But Mithrun’s interactions with Kabru are founded on more mutual respect. Though, that’s not to say that Mithrun doesn’t still have his biases towards short lived races..

Where Laios doesn’t understand social cues, Mithrun does but just doesn’t care. For that reason, I think Kabru would enjoy spending time with Mithrun. It’d give him a break from his compulsion to calculate all of his social interactions. But at the same time, Kabru is the KING at bottling his emotions. Mithrun is blunt, but also doesn’t care enough to pry. If Kabru had anything bothering him, I could imagine him seeking Mithrun’s company to avoid thinking about it. Could make for a fun dynamic.

I do think it’s funny that Milsiril 1) took care of Mithrun for potentially 20 years and 2) is only four years older than him. I imagine this could lead to funny situations.

I don’t ship things for no reason! I think both of these could work platonically, romantically, one-sided, or even “requited but they don’t do anything about it.” Their relationships compel me and I think it’s sort of bad faith to brush off either like they’re nothing more than baseless yaoi pair-the-spares. To me, I see just as much of a foundation in the source material as farcille.

After all, dungeon meshi isn’t a story about romance, but it IS a story about love. It’s a story about life and death and grief and the love that comes with it. Regardless of shipping, these characters love each other!!! And I love talking about it!!