#(i like him a normal amount but i got silly with it so i could make my friend laugh)

[hella1975]

i cannot stand the aot fandom this is not a new take at all they are universally intolerable but oh my dayssss u are FORBIDDEN from making ANY take about the show it's actually insane to watch. 'aot is perfect' no show is perfect. 'tell me you didnt get the show 😂🫵' people have different opinions/interpretations about things. 'eren is a good guy they could never make me hate him' i think there's actually 4 seasons and two movies explicitely using him as a tool to show that no one is 'good' or 'evil' they are only trying to survive. hello. the fandom r all so far up aot's ass that they actually discredit its writing in the process and it would be laughable if it wasn't so frustrating

[ratzhatz14]

Hii!! Thanks for the reblog!!

I’m a huge fan of your sprouts world au!! Very fun angst >:D

Anyway your one of my fav blogs and that reblog made my morning, thank you!

I was gonna make a reference to that one meme which is like "You want colors? We got colors" but with angst instead

Until I read the last part

That made me just

all nice and round and whimsical

[jichanxo]

bitches will say "pride and prejudice kuwagami" half seriously and then get WAY too into drawing it

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I DREAM, NOW, OF A NORMAL LIFE WITH YOU ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; suguru isn’t a lightweight. this is your first time actually seeing him drunk — though maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’d be the sappy kind.

word count; 9.4k (..... i got carried away ok)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader (shoko calls u "girl" but in a "girl help" way not a gendered way), written w a no curses au in mind, sugu is a sappy emotional drunk i said what i said, sickening amounts of fluff, depictions of intoxication, reader is averse to alcohol, sugu wants to marry u so bad it makes him look silly, lots of emotions & lots of love <33

a/n; this fic has been ROTTING in my drafts for the longest time but its super precious to me and now i finally get to post it!! @softgirlgonehaywire & @hayakawalove ily ty for being interested in sappy!sugu this is a treat for u <33

the bar isn’t all that far off from your apartment.

it’s a short distance, really. walk straight ahead, until you reach the record store that suguru likes to frequent, and then take a right; a minute or two uphill, and then you’ll be able to see the blue of the sea. once you’re there, all that’s left is to look for mellow golden lighting and descend a set of stairs.

which is what you’re currently doing, popsicle in hand, loose clothes and comfortable shoes on as you wallow in the mellow summer evening. everything is blue — the dark shade of the sky, and your ice pop, pastel and sweet, tasting of pure youth. the hoodie you threw on is a rich cobalt, suguru’s in name but yours in spirit. he only wears it when you complain that it doesn’t smell like him anymore.

humming a jolly tune, you take a sharp turn, allowing the summer sensations to curl around your subconscious. blissed out and content. 

you were so, so bored — stuck at home with no one to keep you company, no one to mumble snarky commentary about the show playing on tv, no one to run their fingers through your hair while your head rests in their lap. pure torture, really, being faced with the consequences of your own actions. after you stupidly told suguru you’d be okay on your own.

he even asked you twice, just to be sure, even told you that he’d prefer you to join him on his night out. and again, you declined; because it’s been so long since he had some time alone with shoko and satoru, and you were feeling a little tired anyways. 

so he gave in. heading out, with a promise to bring back a tub of your favorite ice cream, leaving you with the apartment to yourself. did you come to regret your little white lie? maybe. possibly.

but everything worked out in the end.

a pleasant breeze caresses your skin, brushing against the apple of your cheek, and you watch as peach blossoms dance in a faraway park. cicadas cling to every tree in sight, buzzing a pleasant tune, mingling with the giddy giggles of high school students enjoying their summer vacation. it’s been raining for a couple of days; you can still smell it in the air, feel it in the low tinge of humidity clinging to your skin, still hear suguru’s insistence that you bring an umbrella with you to work — just in case.

but today, the skies were clear, and it’s late, not too humid but not too chilly. and the stars are out, glimmering in that fuzzy sea of mellow cerulean, leaking out like little marbles cast into space. falling down, down, down, close enough for you to see. from here, it looks as if they’re waving. you resist the urge to wave back.

peace. bliss. a nostalgia so vibrant you could drown in it, feel it lick at your ankles like soft sea foam.

eager to scratch a certain itch in your brain, attention span zipping from one street vendor to the pop music blasting from a couple streets away, you take your phone out from your pocket. absently scrolling through your messages, until you get to the ones shoko sent you just ten minutes ago. the ones that brought you out here, into a summer evening soon to slip into nightfall, ones that have you walking to the bar you chose not to join them at.

messages that still have you pushing back a bout of giggles, chewing lazily on your ramune ice pop with a giddy smile.

sho 🚬: come get ur man sho 🚬: he’s drunk. sho 🚬: like DRUNK drunk 

you: ���… um.  you: what happened to hi? hello?? good evening???

sho 🚬: no time for that. look sho 🚬: [ image ] sho 🚬: he looks so goofy lol

unable to resist the temptation, you press the pad of your finger against the screen — opening the image attachment, just to drink in the sight once again. what you see is a certain man, slumped over in his seat, cheek smooshed against the wooden table in front of him. messy hair, no longer tied into a bun, cascading down his shoulders and back. from the little you can see of his face, his skin is flushed a light pink, and his eyes are closed, fingers still curled around an empty beer jug. 

like a sleepy puppy.

a coo tiptoes on your tongue, but you bite down on your lip in an effort to stop it, just grinning at your screen with pure adoration in your lovesick eyes. 

he’s drunk, alright. an unfamiliar sight, but not at all unwelcome. because he’s cute, terribly so, so cute that it hurts, even when he’s obviously wasted. it’s almost funny — you know their drinking habits. shoko holds her liquor so well that it’s a little horrifying, and satoru can get wasted if he has more than a sip of it. and suguru?

suguru never gets drunk. he barely even drinks. out of consideration for satoru, maybe, or you. probably both. that’s just how he is; you thought he hated fish for years, because he was always so eager to give you the best bites of the sushi rolls you ordered. turns out he was just indulging you.

so, to be frank — the idea of him suddenly being drunk is a little bit of a shocker. but it’s also kind of exciting, in a ridiculous way. new, fun, just what you need when you’re bored out of your mind.

(or maybe you’re just happy to have an excuse to go see him.)

you: NOOOO  you: MY BABY 😭😭😭 you: what did u guys DO to him???

sho 🚬: satoru and him made a bet 😐 you know how they are sho 🚬: he drank like a divorced mother of four ive never seen something so beautiful

you: …. you: have i told you that you’re both terrible

sho 🚬: u love us <33 sho 🚬: anyway he’s been asking me where u are for the past ten minutes pls come i can’t stand him sho 🚬: he’s crying.

you: HUH???????? you: WHY????????????????

sho 🚬: dude i dont know sho 🚬: please come get him he’s being so sappy that satoru’s abt to throw up

you: ???? okok 😭 you: im omw ig??

sho 🚬: girl hurry he just told me he genuinely appreciates my presence in his life 😐

an exhale — laced with deep amusement — drops from your lips and spills into the summer air. it tastes like a memory from long ago.

slipping your phone back into your pocket, you raise your gaze, searching for a glimmer of goldish light. soaking up the scent of the ocean, sparkling on the border of your peripheral. salty and sweet.

no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is that certain someone, waiting for you to pick him up. your mind keeps drifting back to the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his hair falls over his face when he leans down, the sound he makes when he stretches in the morning.

you want to see him. badly. you want him near, want to feel the familiar warmth of his presence, want to see him smile and laugh and sigh and raise his eyebrow at your antics. 

so there isn’t any time to waste. you’re walking towards that familiar set of stairs before you know it, shoes hitting the asphalt with a mantra of satisfying thuds. 

and when you step in through the opened door, you’re immediately engulfed by a sense of overflowing comfort. mellow, warm lights, the soft buzzing of static from an old radio, low citypop beats trailing through the air. the bartender by the counter gives you a curt nod in greeting, before motioning towards a certain table. it’s over in the corner, covered in beer jugs and fancy glasses, with three beauties seated around it.

satoru notices you first.

a bright grin finds its way onto his face, and he waves you over giddily, happily. barely contained excitement in the motion. shoko’s gaze follows his, flitting over to meet yours — and you think she mouths an oh, thank god, before taking another sip from her glass. she brings a hand up in greeting when you come closer, and you can’t see her smile, but there’s a crinkle to her eyes; a warmth in them that you’d never miss.

”hey, guys.”

”yo!” satoru chirps, beaming in a way that’s so distinctly him it makes you soften. he looks so comfortable in his seat, with a cocktail you know is non-alcoholic and probably too sweet for anyone but him to stomach. giggling to himself, leaning over to poke suguru’s cheek, with a teasing declaration of your chaperone is here! 

and there he is. 

the man you came here for, still slumped over in his seat, unresponsive. not for long. as the lilt of your voice reaches his ears, his eyes flutter open, in a bout of recognition — even in the drunken state he’s in. an immediate sensation of familiarity creeps into his veins, rousing him from his cozy, half-asleep stupor. 

he doesn’t even grumble over the way satoru keeps poking at his cheek, interest and attention focused solely on a certain someone. you, your presence. 

and when your eyes meet his, he lights up.

it’s precious, you think, how his eyes widen, blooming with genuine affection, so endearing you could kiss him right then and there. his face is flushed, and his hair is tousled, and the warm lighting of the bar paints him in a golden hue. so perfect for him, your star in the sky. 

a smile spreads across his lips, big and happy and warm, and you can’t help but mirror it. 

(gosh, he’s cute.)

with a dizzy kind of eagerness, suguru sits up, palms flush against the table to support his weight. he stumbles out of his seat, paying no heed to satoru’s amused huff of careful! or the rattling of fragile glass.

it only takes a few uncoordinated steps for him to reach you, where you haphazardly lean against the wall, watching him amusedly. that delighted smile never leaves his lips, as his arms go to curl around your waist, big and heavy, his jaw finding its rightful place on the curve of your shoulder. 

”baby,” he drawls, fond and affectionate. breathing you in. ”sweetheart. my angel.”

a flustered puff of laughter slips from your lips, stumbling a little under his weight. his voice is syrupy sweet, overflowing with love and adoration, soft in a way that has your knees buckling. a little raspy. murmured right into your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. 

he’s too sweet for you to handle, really, even sweeter than satoru’s overpriced cocktail. and he smells the same as always; a blend between coffee grounds, cigarette smoke and rain, one that never fails to soothe you. even when it’s tangled up with a vague but vivid stench of alcohol, courtesy of the drinking he’s been doing until now. 

you crinkle your nose, but don’t let go of him, nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head. words buzzing with warmth. ”hey, sugu.”

suguru only squeezes you tighter, content to have you in his arms. finally, his world makes sense again. all he can do is bask in your voice, warmth, scent — he’s just so enamored by it all. almost in a trance, heartstrings dancing along to the beat of your presence, your very existence, that appears to him as something almost angelic. soft and familiar, something that feels right at home when it’s tucked into his embrace. where he can keep it safe.

”missed you…” he murmurs, sleepy, smearing an open mouthed kiss against the crook of your neck. ”i love you s’much…”

a chuckle. ”i love you too,” you echo, running a steady hand over his back. your voice is laced with something teasing, but awfully fond. ”you really are drunk, aren’t you?”

”mm…” he only hums, cheek pressed flush against your soft skin. ”’m sorry…” he mumbles, stifling a yawn. he sounds a little guilty, and it makes you want to coo. pull his cheek a little.

instead, you laugh. amusement vowen into the bubbly noise. ”it’s fine, sugu. c’mon — let’s go home, alright?”

at that, satoru visibly reacts, placing his glass on the table with a soft clink before getting up to stretch. he grabs suguru’s discarded jacket, letting it hang off his arm as he walks over to the two of you.

”i’ll help you carry him,” he smiles, always so dependable. so ready to be of service. maybe a little too eager to carry suguru around like a sack of potatoes. 

a smile blooms on your face, and satoru gives you a playful wink. shoko just leans back in her seat, stretching idly. it feels like home with them there.

”i’ll stay here,” she hums, a faint grin tugging at her lips. ”he’s your problem now.”

”got it.” you meet her lidded eyes, sharing an amused look as satoru tries to coax suguru away from you, pulling at his cheek while he whines and clings to the fabric of your clothing.

finally, he relents, and you look back at the table with a grin. ”see you later, sho’.”

a smile is the only response you get, but it’s enough. it’s her, the same as always, still sipping from a glass of expensive whiskey and raising her hand in a silent see you. relaxed and cool, and so very lovely. 

with one arm over satoru’s shoulder and the other clinging to your hoodie, suguru stirs.

”shoko…” he groans, craning his head to look back at her, even as satoru makes a move to leave. ”don’t drink too much. and watch out for strangers…” 

he trails off, blinking drowsily, a protective tone to his voice. worried. awfully like him. neither you nor satoru can resist the chuckle you indulge in, but shoko just rolls her hazel eyes.

”i don’t need to hear that from you,” she scoffs, tinged with amusement and what you’re almost certain is embarrassment. there’s a fondness to her snark, one you’d never miss. 

(shoko will always be shoko. you know that she appreciates suguru’s concern, even if she doesn’t want to show it.)

”alright, c’mon,” satoru quips, slapping suguru’s back with a grin. ”there, there, big guy. let’s get you home, hm?”

just as you suspected, he doesn’t let you help, doing all the heavy lifting on his own. not breaking a single sweat, flaunting his strength as he hoists suguru up the steps — while you do nothing but follow, a light jacket hanging off your arm. 

cold midnight air embraces you, slathering your cheeks with the essence of summer as your shoes meet the asphalt. satoru smiles, a low exhale escaping him, dusting off his hands. ”there we go.”

suguru stumbles towards you, no longer caged in, slumping against your shoulder with a satisfied sigh. blinking slowly, as you link arms, his muddled senses adjusting to the outside world. a pleasantly blue sky, a sun long set, and a string of lamp posts to light up the street ahead of you. artificial fireflies, watching over the town you love so dearly.

you part your lips, and a soft exhale slips out, dripping with fondness. ”thanks, satoru,” you smile, meeting his gaze.

”don’t mention it,” he waves you off, but you know he appreciates it; always eager to be praised. ”can you bring him back by yourself?”

”yeah, we’ll be fine. it’s close, anyway. don’t worry.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, and his cobalt gaze drifts upwards, to bask in the starry sky. a moment passes, and then he’s looking back at you and suguru; a soft and earnest smile playing at his lips. so sincere you want to reach out, cup his cheek, make sure he knows how loved he is.

”i’ll go back to shoko, then,” he chirps. bubbly and graceful, giddy and playful. always so lovely. ”gotta make sure she stays out of trouble.”

a chuckle. you mirror his smile. ”of course.”

and with that, your precious best friend makes a move to return to the bar, taking a decisive step away from you. before he can get too far, though, a certain hand reaches out to hold onto his sleeve — keeping him still.

satoru turns around. blinking once, then twice, in confusion; faced with none other than suguru, still slumped against you. a little out of it, sleepy and disoriented, yawning quietly, but his eyes are as clear as ever. caring and sentimental. 

his gaze cuts to the bone of things. it’s something you’ve grown used to.

”thanks, satoru,” he murmurs, letting go of said man’s shirt. the words that spill from his lips are straightforward, a little tactless, but overflowing with earnest appreciation. ”you’re my best friend.”

a moment passes. the stars burn in silence.

satoru blinks.

then he sighs, with what you know is nothing more than feigned annoyance. masking his embarrassment, the same way shoko did, the same way suguru always does. your repressed, beloved little losers. 

”yeah, yeah. i got it,” he pats suguru’s shoulder, once, twice. not looking at him. ”you’re such a sap, you know that? geez.”

a grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief blooming in your eyes. ”not gonna call him your best friend back?” you tease, a soft tilt of your head.

satoru gives you a glare, playful, one you can’t physically see from behind his shades but still somehow sense. ”don’t add fuel to the fire,” he grins, with a halfhearted flick to your forehead.

before you can bicker further, suguru yawns, loudly, closing his eyes and nuzzling into you. you share an amused look with satoru, until he shakes his head fondly.

”take care of him, alright?”

”i will. you guys have fun!”

and at last, satoru turns on his heel, coupled with a smile and a lazy wave. but suguru calls out to him once more, unwilling to part ways without saying his piece. so sentimental, so loving it comes to him like breathing.

”bye-bye, satoru,” he slurs, voice loud enough for the entire street to hear, tired and honest. raising his arm in a lazy wave. ”i love you!”

”go home already!” satoru shouts, descending down the steps with a flush to his cheeks that you’ll tease him for later. his soft laughter is carried away by the breeze, sweet and saccharine.

(satoru will always be satoru. you know that he loves suguru back, even if he doesn’t want to say it out loud.)

with a faint chuckle, melting into the summer air, you tug on suguru’s arm. ”alright,” you chirp, looking up at him. ”let’s go!”

he seems a little more awake now, at least, trying to match your steps. meanwhile, you do what you can to support his weight; he’s stumbling a bit, but you don’t mind. if anything, his weight is a comfort, your arms linked together like a lucky charm. a safe harbour.

suguru is acting kind of like a big puppy, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. a little meek, clinging to you, trailing after you pliantly. he’s a little dizzy, still, and he needs you to get back home in one piece. it makes you puff out your chest, stand up straighter. makes you feel protective of your 6’2 boyfriend, all toned muscle and broad shoulders, the personification of scary dog privilege. but he needs you right now.

a soft bout of laughter spills into the air, as you try to ignore his heavy stare. it’s impossible, though — so you turn your gaze to meet his own, and he practically glows under the sound of your giggles, that cheeky smile you’re wearing. ”you okay, suguru?”

his eyes soften. silently, he runs a thumb over the knots of your knuckle, smoothing down your skin, thick fingers intertwined with yours. 

he looks deep into your eyes, and a soft hum of affirmation buzzes in his throat. 

”i’m just so happy,” he grins, with a sincerity that has your heart doing flips inside your ribcage. it flutters, flutters, flutters, in the wake of his unbridled joy. it buzzes like it wants to break out.

suguru has this dreamy look on his face, one you can do nothing but admire, painted over with fluorescent moonlight and pure summer bliss. one that reminds you a little of high school rooftops, midnight road trips, what it means to be in love.

you nudge him, softly, with the arm that’s tangled up in his own. tilting your head, teasing words on the tip of your tongue. ”you know, i never took you for a sappy drunk.”

suguru's only response is a cute little mmrn, steps heavy as he leans on you for support. trying his best to carry himself, not wanting to inconvenience you, but it’s just a little tough. especially when he feels this soft, this grateful — this blessed.

a giddy, dreamy smile tugs at his lips. his amber gaze travels up, towards the little pale dots of star clusters all across the night sky, gleaming like milk poured over rich coffee. then he exhales; a soft, blissful little sound. ”i’m so lucky.”

a moment passes, silently. in the distance, cicadas buzz. with a patient smile, you admire him, the reflection of starlight in his eyes. suguru has this forlorn look, etched into his expression, like he’s seeing something that isn’t quite there.

”i have satoru and shoko…” he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear. as if he’s tasting the words on his tongue, as if he can’t quite believe them himself. that’s how lucky he feels, sometimes.

a nod. ”they love you a bunch, you know?”

(they do. they’re both horrible at saying it out loud, but you know they do. you know that they love suguru, just as much as he loves them, even if none of them are good at putting it into words. perhaps they don’t really even need to, in the first place.)

suguru mirrors the soft nod of your head, bangs falling over his eyes as he does. ”and i love them, too.” his smile grows. ”they’re my best friends.”

absently, you reach a hand out, brushing away the strands of hair obscuring his vision. and suguru stirs, his gaze shifting until it falls on you. like a moth to a flame. there’s something indescribable in his eyes, soft and heavy and tender and true.

”— and i have you.”

a stutter of your heartbeat, a jolt throughout your chest. his stare almost burns, but you can’t avert your gaze — suguru looks positively lovesick. admiring you with a dreamy gaze, as if he can’t believe you’re real. 

he reaches a hand out; cradling your face with one big palm, the rough pads of his fingers smoothing down your skin so very gently. smearing his fondness from your jaw to your cheekbone, so loving your breath hitches in the back of your throat. 

a soft, content sigh spills into the air, like a prayer that doesn’t need any words. his smile is serene.

”my angel.” 

as the words fall, that peaceful smile of his changes shape, shifting into a big, giddy grin. it lights up his whole face. a chuckle leaves his lips, content and delighted. ”i’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

and for a moment, you fear that your heart will stop beating entirely. frozen, listening to the lullaby of your heartbeat resounding in your ears. 

suguru has always been frighteningly good at flustering you — but isn’t this a little unfair? you clear your throat, hoping to regain some composure. it’s tough, though. your words could never measure up to his, could never flow as freely, but they’re honest. wholly and thoroughly. and maybe that’s enough. 

”we’re the luckiest in the world, too, then,” you echo, smiling, words barely above a whisper. willing yourself to meet his gaze. ”since we have you.”

suguru looks into your eyes. there’s starlight inside them, he thinks, shining brightly, gleaming in the dark. with the hazy filter of intoxication clouding his mind, it’s all he can think. you’re his northern star, his lighthouse. his one and only saving grace.

(you’re so, so pretty.)

a pause. after a silent moment, spent etching your features into his retinas, suguru tilts his head. his expression is unreadable.

— he boops your nose.

you blink. once, twice, caught entirely off guard; and suguru giggles. soft, giddy little breaths falling from his lips like marbles, strewn over the sand of a warm beach. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and his smile is sweet, meeting your surprised gaze with a honeyed coo. ”you’re so cute, baby.”

silence. you look up at him. 

then you sigh, exasperated, more flustered than you’d like to admit. god. okay, he’s really out of it. for some reason, you still thought you could get a good one-liner in, but of course he had to ruin that by being a little tease.

you grab onto his bicep. gaze fixed straight ahead, giving it a tug. your steps are more decisive now, and suguru follows you happily. ”alright, alright. c’mon,” you beckon, slightly gruff. ”we’re almost there.”

when you finally reach the familiar front door of your apartment, you exhale a deep sigh, laced with pure relief. limbs tired from dragging suguru up the stairs, mind muddled and sleepy and senses practically engulfed by a man still clinging to you like his life depends on it.

after fumbling with your keys and hearing the click of the lock, you take a victorious step over the threshold, and a familiar scent greets you. soothing, comforting, a blend between fresh laundry and leftover curry and blooming hydrangeas. filling your senses with a fervent kind of bliss. of course, suguru’s does the same; intimately intertwined with the scent of home. that everlasting, never-changing blend. 

with him clinging to you like this, it’s almost suffocating — but you truly don’t mind. suguru’s warm, and sweet, and being close to him like this makes you feel at peace. his hands rest on your hips, his jaw on your shoulder, and he adamantly refuses to let go of you for even a second. it’d be annoying if he wasn’t so cute, if he wasn’t suguru geto, if you weren’t so horrendously weak for him.

what you don’t know is that suguru has an agenda. one that isn’t just i want to hug the love of my life, although partially that as well. suguru has a plan, one he’s been absentmindedly dreaming of for the past five minutes; he’s a man on a mission.

but he’s patient. always has been, always for you. so he waits, and waits, for you to hang his jacket up, for you to kick your shoes off your feet. and when you’re finally, finally finished, suguru leans in to kiss you.

— you block his mouth with the palm of your hand.

a moment passes. silent, almost tense. in his stupor, suguru’s mind can’t quite seem to comprehend the situation before him; he doesn’t understand why he isn’t pressing a kiss to your lips, right now, why he’s kissing the skin of your palm. he doesn’t understand why you look so troubled, a faint guilt simmering in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand.

all he can do is blink, dumbly, surprised. a question written on his features clear as day. 

”well, it’s just…” you sputter, sheepishly. avoiding his gaze, a little guilty. ”you know. since you’ve been drinking, and all…”

and it hurts, you think. it hurts a lot more than it should. it hurts to reject him, hurts to see the way he deflates at your clarification. like a big kicked puppy. like you just threatened to throw him out into the street.

suguru removes your hand, gently, holding it in his own as he speaks. those amber eyes are downcast, and a soft pout rests on his lips. the sight alone feels like a dagger to your chest.

”but…” he frowns, voice awfully meek. he looks so sad. ”i wanna kiss you…”

a soft sigh leaves your lips, before you can think to hold it in. oh, he’s being so unfair. guilt clings to your mind, an itch you yearn to scratch, and all you want is to kiss his pout away. but you really, really don’t want to kiss his alcohol-soaked lips.

so you settle for the second best option.

”’m sorry, sugu,” you coo, reaching a hand out to cradle his cheek. he leans into your touch, still pouting, and you tug a little at his bottom lip. wasting no time in closing the narrow distance between you.

the kisses you press against his skin are soft. peppering kisses all across his face; ghosting your lips along his jaw, trailing towards his cheekbones, and settling on his forehead. tiny little pecks, wherever you can reach. your voice is soft, muffled into his skin between butterfly kisses. ”tomorrow, okay?” 

and suguru seems to brighten up a little, melting under the contact, exhaling in pure bliss. he fervently returns the treatment, planting open mouthed kisses all over your face, respecting your wishes and avoiding your lips. they’re a little sloppy, but you don’t mind.

it does make you a little flustered, though. with his palms cradling your face, engulfing you, there’s nothing you can do except drown in his affection, the love he showers you with. it tickles — and suguru’s smile only grows, at the sound of your soft giggles. his cheeks are starting to hurt.

the state he’s in is just a little bit hazy. despite his initial dejection, he no longer minds that he can’t feel your lips against his, disappointment warded off by your smile and laughter alone. he thinks you’re so, so cute, and all he wants is to kiss you forever. 

but you have other plans.

and before you know it, you’re both curled up in bed, limbs all tangled up beneath the blankets, bodies pressed together as suguru cages you in. he squeezes you tightly, hugging you close, practically melting into you. usually, it’d be so easy to fall asleep like this. with suguru cradling you, covering your body with his own, warm and safe. he’s like a furnace. 

but right now, it’s a little tough. you’re kept awake by open mouthed, ticklish kisses pressed against your skin, supplied by the love of your life. it’s sweet, but he’s being far too distracting — as soon as your consciousness begins to fade into the fuzzy realm of sleep, he leaves a sloppy kiss against your collarbone, and you’re jolted awake once more. 

”suguuu,” you whine, dragging his name out with childish inclination. ”we need to sleep…”  

”sorry,” he only murmurs, muffled into your skin. he doesn’t stop, though, planting a wet smooch on your cheek, and then another. you squirm a little in his hold, and he emits a shaky breath. ”jus’ love you so much…”

suguru knows that he needs to stop. he knows that both of you need to sleep, that you need to rest up. that he needs to recover from the intoxicated state he’s fully aware that he’s in — but he just can’t seem to follow through with it. every cell in his body burns with a certain desire, a need to shower you in love, and it’s unendurable. with every kiss, every giggle he manages to pull from your lips, suguru’s heart fills up just a little more. 

your presence surrounds him, like a weighted blanket, and he clings to it with a desperation he never knew before you. 

in the midst of his feverish consciousness, you’re all his muddled mind can think about. the way you fit together with him like a puzzle piece, like he was formed in the shape of someone meant to hold you. like you were formed in the shape of his embrace. with you pressed up against him, limbs tangled with his, everything feels so right.

but it’s so overwhelming. 

you’re so, so close, so close he’s practically engulfed by your scent, your touch, everything that makes his heart burn with devotion. it’s beating so viscerally in his ribcage, stirring the protective instinct inside him; he just wants you to stay close, by his side, wants to keep you safe and happy. wants to make you feel loved. 

suguru’s heart feels wet and raw and bare, fully exposed for you to see. beating just for you.

with the alcohol inside his veins, and the nostalgia of the summer evening on his mind, everything weighs on him just a little too heavily. everything feels just a little too much. every sensation, every emotion, every sappy thought. all of it together is almost too much for him to handle.

all he can think of is you. how lucky he is, to have met you, to have gotten to know you. how much you’ve changed him, changed him for the better, how much of him is directly tied to your existence.

suguru never truly appreciated his name until you came into his life. it was always no more than a simple fact, a gift from his parents that he hadn’t asked for. something natural, that he didn’t question, didn’t think about. 

but you say his name with such warmth.

he wants to hear you say it, over and over again, forever. suguru — in that sweet, lovely voice of yours. better yet, just sugu, a cutesy, silly nickname he could never bring himself to actually hate. he just wants to hear you call out to him, with that warmth of yours, the one that never fails to soothe him. no matter how tired he is, how stressed. how much everything else weighs down on him. 

at the end of the day, he’s simply your sugu. and that’s all he ever really wants to be.

with a hazy filter clouding his senses, coaxing him into closing his eyes, suguru should give in. he should fall asleep, let you fall asleep. but he can’t bring himself to stop thinking about it; he just loves you so wholly. who you are, what you do. as an equal, an individual, a little galaxy tucked into a body made of flesh and blood. no matter what you’re doing, no matter where you are. 

and right now, you’re here, with him. curled up in bed, in your shared apartment, inhaling the same air, exhaling at the same time. by his side, when you could be anywhere else in the world.

his heart is yours. that’s all suguru can bring himself to think, the only coherent thought he can cling to and echo in his head. his heart is yours. forever and ever. 

he makes no attempt to stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, even as he feels them cling to his lashes, even as his breathing clogs up in the back of his throat. they’re proof of his devotion, his carefully nurtured love. growing over the years, into something almost sacred, a kind of faith. something so fervent he wouldn’t dare deny himself of feeling it.

he can’t hold in a faint sniffle, either, just barely audible. one that breaks your heart in two. it aches, aches, aches. suguru is gazing at you with glassy eyes, a sight you aren’t used to seeing — but he also looks so genuinely glad. his tears aren’t ones of sadness. you know, because you know him. 

”aw, honey…” you coo, the pads of your fingers reaching out to cradle his cheek. despite your efforts, your voice wavers when you speak, little more than a whisper. ”don’t cry... you’ll make me cry, too.”

suguru places his larger palm over yours, choking on another sniffle. the sight renders you completely helpless — you want so desperately to stop his tears from falling, but a part of you is too touched to speak. too mesmerized by how beautiful he is, translucent tears illuminated by softly flickering moonrays, lashes glimmering like shooting stars.

all you can do is smooth a thumb right under his eye, wiping away a stray tear with enough tenderness to stitch his heart back together. suguru emits a shaky breath.

”’m sorry,” he sniffles, closing his eyes. nuzzling into the crook of your neck. ”i’m just so happy… love you so much… you mean so, so much to me, i…”

an exhale, a little breathless, tears soaking through the material of the shirt you’re wearing. his shirt. that realization makes him cry even more, a shuddering breath that shatters like glass when it drops from his tongue. 

and then, in a voice so quiet you barely hear it, a soft whisper worth a million words:

”i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

and it hurts. your heart aches so sincerely, thorns curling around your ribcage, because suguru is crying, and he’s telling you all this. with such an honest intonation that you don’t dare doubt him, even for a second. heavy thumps of blood rush through your veins; he’s still clinging to you, sniffling into your neck, and you’re so in love with him that you almost can’t comprehend it.

all you can do is press a kiss to his shoulder, chaste and tender, and hug him just a little tighter. echoing his words, in earnest, desperately trying to keep your voice from breaking apart. ”i love you, too. more than anything.” a sigh, full of wonder. little butterfly kisses scattered across the expanse of his neck. ”you mean the world to me. honestly.”

with a smile against his skin, you hope so tenderly that the soft kisses will comfort him, will stop the tears from falling. 

”my sweet boy,” you murmur, lovingly, because he is. the sweetest boy you’ll ever know. suguru shudders when you press your lips against his jaw. ”i’m so, so lucky.”

with the combined efforts of your kisses, the alcohol slumbering inside his veins, and the tears running down his cheeks, suguru begins to feel awfully tired. sinking into sleep’s embrace, like a sailor lost at sea. comforted by the glimmer of a lighthouse, just out of reach.

everything feels right. he’s safe, and happy, and in love. so hopelessly, blissfully in love.

the exhaustion creeps up on him, tidal waves embracing a shore, beckoning him into closing his weary eyes. a yawn leaves his lips, and he shifts a little in your hold. you’re smoothing down the back of his head, almost protectively, and sleep is only a flicker away for the both of you. with the last of his strength, suguru snuggles just a little further into you, nose pressed up against your neck, close enough that he feels the flutter of your heartbeat. 

”wanna be with you forever,” he murmurs, sleepily, stifling another bout of yawns. his smile is sweet and dreamy. ”gonna marry you one day…”

a moment passes.

for a second, you think your heart does actually cease beating entirely.

swallowing a gulp, you allow yourself the luxury of an inhale — and fresh air fills your lungs. grounding. all you can hear is the rapid beating of your own heart, heavy thumps reverberating in your ears. warmth flows through your entire body.

marry.

the word is spoken so casually, so sincerely, as if he’s said it countless times before. as if he’s repeated it, over and over again in his mind, just to get used to the idea. as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. marriage. something so foreign, so scary, enough to send shivers down every narrow of your skeleton. such a large step to take. 

(but suguru says it with such tenderness.)

”… okay,” you whisper, at last. breathless. ”i’ll be waiting, then.”

there’s nothing else to say. you don’t know if suguru is even conscious enough to hear you, let alone understand the full weight of your words, of his own words. but you don’t mind. 

a soft smile lingers on your lips, as you stroke his hair, mind hazy and limbs heavy. nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head, full of affection. dripping from your hands down to the column on his throat, through his windpipe, down to his heart.

”goodnight, sugu.” you press a kiss to his messy hair, tender and chaste. ”i love you.”

an incoherent mutter leaves his lips, in response, one you can’t quite make out — but you don’t need to. because you already know what it means, in the same way you know that the sky is blue.

(an echo buried deep within his subconscious, voiced without effort, as easy as breathing.

i love you, too.)

the sizzling of a pan and the whirring of a coffee machine form a beautiful morning symphony, bouncing off the walls of your kitchen. to your ears, and your still sleepy brain, it’s a soothing sound — coaxing soft little melodic hums from the depths of your throat.

with such a tantalizing aroma in the air, a blend between espresso and pancake batter, you can’t help but buzz with a mellow, groggy kind of joy.

honestly, you're beginning to understand suguru’s fondness for the morning hours. waking up to his soft snores and content expression was more than enough to give you the energy you needed to get out of bed; all sleepy and relaxed and pretty, with hazy morning sunrays kissing up his bare skin, caressing his messy bedhead. 

a rare sight, awfully precious. a part of you wanted to stay in bed and admire him all morning, but the thought of taking care of him coaxed you into leaving. it’s the least you could do, really — after seeing him so sincere, so open and vulnerable. 

hopefully, his headache won’t be too brutal when he wakes up. you left some hangover pills on the nightstand, courtesy of shoko’s advice: just get him ibuprofen and coffee. works like a charm. are you a little worried about her nonchalance? maybe. but you trust her judgement. they’re a handful, but you love them — even when they’re drunk or hungover. 

which is why you’re standing in the kitchen, engulfed by the morning sunlight, in front of a sizzling pan. trying your very best not to burn the pancakes you’re making, patiently waiting for the coffee to be done. 

in your blissful stupor, caught up with thoughts of suguru and breakfast and forevers, you don’t notice another presence coming up behind you.

two arms wrap around your waist, and a jaw attaches itself to the curve of your shoulder. you startle, a little, jolting at the contact — but then you recognize that telltale scent, the familiar weight of his arms, and immediately melt into the embrace.

suguru breathes out a raspy chuckle, amused at your surprise. 

a sigh slips from your lips, content. ”good morning,” you hum, placing the palm of your hand on his forearm. suguru shifts a little, getting more comfortable as he leans against you. tenderly, not too much weight. he’s delicate like that.

”g’morning,” he rasps, leftover sleep clinging to the syllables. the usual smoothness of his voice is coupled with a deep, rough kind of tilt, one that always accompanies it in the morning. your heartbeat picks up, silently.

suguru smiles. dreamy, giddy, because you just looked so pretty, in the morning light, hair still a tad messy. humming happily, swaying slightly side to side. so irresistible. he’s beginning to understand why you love sleeping in so much; getting to wrap his arms around you like this, instead of the other way around, doesn’t feel bad at all.

he squeezes you just a little tighter, hoping it’ll convey his gratitude. there are holes in his memory, last night no more than a blurry sequence of still images, but some bits and pieces remain intact. he remembers getting drunk in a way he hasn’t since he made that bet with satoru back in high school — and he remembers that you were there to take care of him.

a smile tugs at his lips. a little giddy, butterflies erupting in his chest. he’s so damn lucky.

”thanks for taking care of me yesterday, sweetheart.”

a hum. you smile, sheepishly, patting his arm. ”don’t need to thank me for that. how do you feel?”

suguru smiles. you feel it, against your skin, a chaste kiss on your neck. ”better.”

the low purring of the coffee machine has stopped, but the sizzling of the pan remains. from beyond the opened windows, you can hear the chirping of cicadas, melodic and serene. singing a summery tune. both of you soak in the preciousness of the moment, the fragile silence, before suguru breaks it.

”everything from last night is kinda fuzzy,” he admits, clearing his throat. just a tad sheepish. you simply hum, a low noise of acknowledgement, and he continues. ”i don’t really remember anything… ’m sorry, baby. i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

your lips curl up into a tiny smile. such a sweetheart — always worrying about you. always so caring and attentive. eager to reassure him, you smooth over the skin of his arm with your thumb. ”not at all.”

then you’re taking a couple steps back, moving from the stove, and suguru follows. you turn yourself around to meet his gaze, his arms still attached to your waist, a comforting weight.

a grin blooms on your lips, a little teasing, and a flicker of mischief shines in your eyes. ”you were cute, you know.”

suguru blinks, before emitting a low chuckle. a raspy little thing. ”was i?” he drawls, as you brush his bangs away from his face. 

”mhm,” you chirp, eyes crinkled as they meet his own. you just can’t help but want to tease him, a little bit. just a smidge. ”kept going on and on about how much you love us.”

hands moving to cup his face, you squeeze his cheeks softly. and suguru lets you, too tired to resist, only giving you a lazy raise of his brow. there’s a sense of amusement in his eyes, and something in you knows he likes the attention. your teasing words buzz with endearment, akin to a purr. ”my sweet lil’ sugu.”

all he does is lean into your touch, allowing himself to melt into the tenderness of the physical contact. even as you pull at his cheek, earning you a very gentle pinch to your side. but he lets you have your fun. you’re warm, and sweet, and he’s so in love with you he’d probably let you tug his body around however you please.

still, your words leave him just slightly perplexed. he’s still smiling with half-lidded eyes when he asks you to elaborate, basking in the feeling of your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. ”us?”

your grin widens, by a tad, something deeply amused glimmering in the depths of your iris. ”yep,” you answer, popping the p. for some reason, suguru dreads the teasing edge to your voice. ”me, and shoko, and satoru.”

a moment passes. he stiffens, for a second or two, mind processing the words. then he groans, softly, squeezing his eyes shut.

it makes you laugh, soft and amused, and he can’t help but smile along. despite the dreadful realization you present him with. no wonder he was met with so many notifications when he tapped at the screen of his phone — he didn’t read through any of them, but now he’s apprehensive to do so at all. shoko and satoru can be so goddamn obnoxious when they feel as if they have blackmail on him.

he can see it now, in his mind’s eye; shoko nagging him to run her errands, satoru reminding him of his words every time they have a slight disagreement. 

(grab me a coffee. three shots of espresso, one cube of sugar. got it?)

slacker.

(we both know i’m right. don’t be so stubborn, suguru! it’s okay to be wrong sometimes.)

asshole.

(c’mon. you said you loved me, right?

so mean. and here i thought you loved me!)

idiots.

(he does love them. more than anything. even when they’re being absolutely insufferable.)

suguru just sighs, deep and fatigued, already anticipating his doom. ”they’re never gonna let me live it down, are they?”

a giggle slips from your lips, and his heart flutters helplessly. ”probably not. my condolences.”

another sigh. it only makes your smile widen. there’s something awfully delighted, in your eyes, as you cradle his face in your hands. ”well, i thought you were very sweet!”

”yeah, yeah…” he mutters, vaguely amused. placing one of his large palms over your hand, where it rests on his cheek. ”i won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”

a chuckles bubbles up from within your throat. ”aww,” you pout, giving way to a teasing grin. ”that’s a shame. i wanted to hear you talk about how much you love me again.”

suguru blinks. 

then he smiles. a very particular smile, characteristic, one you’ve come to associate solely with him. resting somewhere in the intersection between a soft grin and a teasing smirk. a flicker of mischief shines in his eyes, and you realize your mistake.

you can tease suguru all you want; but he'll always turn the tables on you, at the end of the day.

”oh?” he chuckles, fondly, thumb smoothing over the lines of your hand. his eyes gleam, looking straight into yours, shining with something mildly devilish. ”i don’t need to get drunk to tell you that, baby.”

in a smooth motion, one you can’t help but silently envy, suguru intertwines his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips. he never once breaks eye contact, gaze heavy as he basks in your flustered expression, planting a soft kiss against your knuckle. reverent.

”i love you. more than anything,” he purrs, lips still lingering on your skin. warm enough to burn. ”you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

a pause. heat crawls up your spine, and a flush rises to your cheeks. you couldn’t stop it if you tried.

”my everything,” he continues, intent on flustering you as much as humanly possible. voice low and smooth, honeyed and deep, and worst of all; terribly earnest. lips trailing over your knuckles, against every knot, so soft that you barely feel it. ”my entire world.”

”okay, okay!” you sputter, an embarrassed hue to your cheeks, your gaze landing on the windowpane to your right. his stare is just too heavy, too deeply in love. overwhelming. ”point taken. nevermind.”

suguru laughs, genuine and full. warm and amused, deep and real, and you catch yourself thinking that you don’t want to go a single day without hearing it. even if it’s at your own expense.

a coo rests on his the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back, opting to lean forward instead. he trails the pads of his fingers along your jaw, touch like a butterfly, lifting your chin up ever so slightly. then he closes the distance between you. 

in your throat, your breath hitches.

— but he doesn’t kiss you. suguru stops right in front of your lips, so close you can feel his breath on your skin, taking a moment to simply look into your eyes. and despite how flustered the close proximity makes you, you can’t bring yourself to look away. heart fluttering madly, a string of staccatos against your parted ribs.

a tilt of his head. amber eyes gleaming, crinkled and fond. ”can i kiss you, now?” he asks, grinning softly. hand smoothing down your hip, big and warm, teasing. ”i made sure to brush away all the alcohol. or do you still not want to?”

you pause. 

”hey, what happened to not remembering anything?” you pout, narrowing your eyes. the corner of suguru’s bottom lip twitches upwards.

but he only shrugs, feigning nonchalance, a playful glint in his eyes. ”guess i was just that disappointed.”

a giggle flows from your lips. he drinks it in, gazing at you with pure contentment.

”alright, alright... c’mere,” you coo, smile honeyed and sweet. tracing your fingertips along his jaw, brushing a silky strand of hair behind his ear. you take in the sight of him, meeting his lovesick gaze. he squeezes at your hips softly, a little impatient — so you finally lean in.

suguru’s lips are warm, when they meet yours. they taste like sunlight, devoid of any alcoholic flavour, just like he so kindly assured you of. and it’s a little amusing, the thought of him in front of the bathroom sink — desperately scrubbing his teeth, just to get his kissing privileges back. such a dork. 

he’s your dork, though.

suguru sighs into the kiss, smiling giddily, satisfied at last. a sound you can’t help but mirror. he deepens it, ever so slightly, fingers squeezing gently at the plush of your waist. a hum of approval buzzes in your throat, and his smile only grows.

when he pulls away, that smile is all you can see, along with the ever so slight flush to his cheeks. a hint of peach dusting his skin, framed by the sunrays caressing his jaw, highlighting his handsome features. breathtaking. 

before you have a chance to protest, he’s leaning in again, to press one more chaste kiss to your lips. your heartbeat picks up.

everything finally feels just right.

the warmth of the sizzling pan, the fragrance of freshly made coffee and now-burnt pancakes. the light of the morning sun, scattered across the open space of your apartment, splotches of life painting everything in a heavenly glow. the love in the air, all soft and light and comfortable.

domestic bliss. with suguru, who never seems to change, no matter how many years go by. if you could live in this moment for the rest of your life, forever and ever, you’re sure you’d die happy.

and wow, is that a heavy word. forever. 

(but suguru makes it feel so very, very light.)

forever feels a lot more real, like this. cradled in the midst of a drowsy morning, bumping elbows with the man you love most, after getting to take care of him in his most vulnerable state. accepting every part of him, and having him accept you just as fervently. 

just this moment alone is worth far more than you could ever comprehend. 

suguru, with his warm hands, his familiar embrace. your shared laughter, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen as you try in vain to save your scorched pancakes. and his smile, his fervent devotion, coaxing him into eating them even though they’re burnt at the edges and don’t taste even a quarter as good as his. because you made them, for him, and that makes them taste sweeter than anything.

you stare at him, from across the table, admiring the sight you’ve grown so used to; suguru, with his slightly tousled hair, mug in hand and smile painted on his handsome face. drowned in sunlight, pink petals flitting in through the opened window. you don’t want a single day to ever pass without you seeing this. what does that mean, exactly? you think you know. 

it means forever.

(forever, forever, forever. what a pretty word.)

marriage. you think of it, again, let it linger in the depths of your skull, bounce around until you grow just a little more used to it. and it’s a scary thought, for sure. a terrifying thought, even, something so foreign that it makes you nervous. but you truly wouldn’t mind doing this forever — not one bit. not if it’s with him.

and, unbeknownst to you, maybe that promise of forever isn’t all that far off.

maybe it’s only a couple rooms away, hidden within the depths of a certain drawer, until suguru finally gets the courage to bring it out. and maybe, just maybe — that day isn’t all that far off, either.

(suguru smiles at you, from across the table. he thinks you look ethereal, sipping from your morning coffee, blinking tiredly. so sweet and angelic.

all he can think of is forever.)

[nhura]

Life is too short.

[ my art ] [ twitter ]

(detail + ratio rambling under the cut >_>)

This is one of those "I need a break between my ten other illustrations, let me do a lil sketchy sketch :D" that got too ambitious etc. etc. I never want to see the color red again" moments. BUT!

I really, really like to explore Ratio's viscerality and what's happening between his brain and his nerves, like... all of this thorough control and discipline and he still has to breathe and react to himself and his surroundings, you know? His accomplishments are insane for "his age"* but he's going to run out of "age" at some point! His ambitions are so far reaching that he's not worried about getting doctorate degree Number Nine! Rather, his efforts are pointed outwards, into the universe, for the universe. As you know.

Speaking of his degrees, I had a half thought a while ago that we've seen him with two types of laurel pins.

One is him in his suuuuuper cute mother goose avatar (three leaves) and the other is the hat he's wearing everywhere else (eight leaves).

The thought was, "Aww, what if they're like commemorative pins counting the number of his degrees or whatever :)". Literally only because there's eight in the current one. This is kind of silly because then you'd HAVE to have an obscene number of degrees even for a normal person for your leaf pin to start looking like a laurel in the first place so scratch that BUT it's cute to think that it's still academic regalia. Something something I work in higher ed myself and it's like... it's like that.

The university goldsmith appreciates the job security.

I REMEMBER WHY I BROUGHT THAT UP. FOLLOWING the fantasy where more leaves = more knowledge!, in summary, even though Ratio seems to be a little beyond trying to get a prize every time he learns something now. But he does want to Keep Going. He can only Keep Going.

So I drew him in a bathtub full of an uncountable amount of gold leaves looking at the camera with an indescribable expression born from a hunger that will never be satiated lol DETAIL SHOT!

*Referenced only vaguely in a comment in the context of astonishment, but it could have easily have been "woah he's accomplished so much for his age (young)" as it could be "woah he looks good for his age (older)". There is no canon age and even then, reconciling standardized system time versus planetary time versus "does his particular breed of lizard human have the same lifespan as tumblr user nhura?" is a losing game for everyone involved! Here's what I think: I think he started going grey in his early twenties, whatever that means in spacefantasygame, and that that's very cute on him.

Do YOU think Ratio would be tempted by immortality???? Or would he MIND HIS BUSINESS

[temiizpalace]

☆┆TEND TO MY WOUNDS !

SUMMARY: red alert! he’s injured! it’s alright, for the prefect of ramshackle is here to save the day.

CHARACTERS: leona, jade, jamil, rook, idia

(i spun a wheel to try and write other characters.. jamil and leona just love me teehee)

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: the boys get injured, but nothing is life threatening. — cursing — MENTIONS OF BLEEDING (not fatal)

ROMANTIC, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

🦁┆LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

“shit! ow—“

leona groans, feeling the stinging pain of alcohol rubbed onto his forehead. spelldrive didn’t go as it usually did.

everything was normal. practice was going well, and everybody was doing the proper training regiments. it was all fun watching leona and everybody practice by a nearby tree. except leona wasn’t practicing this afternoon.

today, he felt like napping right beside you. he laid his head in your lap, sound asleep. this all goes south when some freshmen decide to mess around, sending the disc flying in your direction.

typically leona would’ve been able to divert it with magic, but feeling a little hazy from barely awakening, it hit him straight on the forehead.

now here you both are, present in the infirmary, leona sitting on the cot, and you being his own personal doctor. “i can’t believe the great leona kingscholar got hit by a spelldrive disc. it is truly an honor to witness it first hand.” you joke, causing him to roll his eyes.

“tch.. whatever— FUCK.” it’s funny to see leona in such a state. one where his tough guy act isn’t all the way up. you thought he’d brush off the pain like a man, but surprise! we learn something new everyday.

“haha.. wait here. i need to find bandages.” you walk over to the cabinet, only to find all the boxes of bandages empty. except for one. a bandaid box. you snicker at the sight of them and take a couple out of the box. leona raises a brow as he heard your giggling in the back til you made your way back towards him.

you stood in front of him and placed the bandaids on his forehead. he liked the close proximity. he likes being by your side. you caring for him like this is actually one of his deepest desires. he won’t ever say it aloud of course, but he hopes you take the hints.

“you are now officially cured.” you grin, finally applying the last bandaid. he stood up, looking you in the eyes. he wanted to thank you. wanted to thank you for helping him. wanted to thank you for caring enough about him to do this. to help him.

but leona being leona cannot say thank you. “..I don’t wanna owe you any favors so,” he pulls out his wallet from his pocket and throws it to you. you catch it, nearly dropping all the thaumarks inside on the floor. “go buy somethin’ while you’re at it.”

he ruffles your hair, walking out of the infirmary. you flip through the wallet, it barely closing due to the amount of cards and thaumarks inside. rich boy privileges go crazy. ruggie wasn’t kidding when he said leona was stinkin rich. all you could do was stand there, shocked.

leona walks back out to the field, hearing the team laugh as he approaches. he looks at them with a puzzled look, the laughing becoming unbearable. “oi, what’s so funny? mind tellin’?”

“cute bandaids ya got there, boss. shishishishi..” ruggie chuckles, looking at leona’s super cute and silly unicorn bandaids on his forehead. at first, he’s confused. then he rips a bandaid off and looks at the patterns.

start running <3

🐬┆JADE LEECH

“jade, stop moving!”

you sigh, trying to place a bandaid on jade’s cut. you wanted to help him cook today since mostro lounge has been extremely busy lately. azul had been working him to the bone, so he used his time off as a way to spend time with you.

only to end up back in the kitchen, but whatever. since you’re there, it’s all good. while chopping a mysterious vegetable, (it’s a mushroom..) he accidentally cut his finger. he wasn’t paying attention to where he was cutting. cause he was looking at you.

normally somebody would wince in pain, but jade is jade. so. “oh my, this is unexpected.” he says, as his blood gets on his gloves and contaminates the mushrooms. “oh my what— OH MY GOSH, JADE.” you yell, as he’s abnormally calm about the fact blood was all over the mushrooms.

so now he’s sitting at one of the barstools in mostro lounge as you try to patch up his finger. anytime the bandaid gets remotely close to the cut, he squirms and jerks his hand away. you can’t tell if he’s messing with you or if he’s just sensitive to touch because he still has his dumb polite smile.

“jade. stop. moving.” you grunt, trying to grab his wrist to hold his hand still. “fufu..” his stupid chuckle is usually very nice but it’s just growing irritating.

for some reason he still has the impulse to tease you. even when injured. all you want to do is care for him, so why is he making this so difficult?! is he waiting for something?

oh. that’s an idea.

“jade, may i see your hand?” you ask, putting the bandaid on the counter. he raises a brow, but complies nonetheless. “of course. do be gentle though, im wounded.” well no shit.

you held his hand gently, raising a finger up to your lips. you place a gentle kiss on his finger. not on the wound exactly, but near it. his eyes slightly widened and his cheeks tinted slightly red. he loses his composure for just a moment, giving you time to apply the bandaid onto his cut.

you smile in victory, standing up from your seat. “there, all better!” you winked at him before making your way back to the kitchen. he sat there, dumbfounded. how curious.. if that’s a way to get free kisses..

“oh dear, it appears i had just cut my lower lip. what a shame. it appears i am in need of some assistance.” this wasn’t even five minutes later.

🐍┆JAMIL VIPER

“you scream like a girl.”

you laugh as jamil looks away from you. he couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes. a little earlier, the both of you were sitting in the lounge of ramshackle as comfortable silence filled the air.

he was flipping through pages of a book while you leaned onto his shoulder, playing a game of some sort on your phone.

“..AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

that silence was interrupted as you heard a high pitched scream next to you, turning your head to see jamil absolutely mortified and panicked.

“JAMIL?! WHAT IS—“ then you spotted it. the wretched cockroach crawling on the table. he shut his book and threw it at the table, missing. now he’s grabbing all nearby objects to kill the insect.

“JAMIL PLEASE CALM DOWN, PLEASE! FUCK, JAMIL—” he ended up using his magic, but used a lil too much. as you held him back, his leg bumped against the table, causing him to scurry back to the couch.

confirming that the roach had cleared the premises, you sat next to him and checked the bump on his leg. his breaths were heavy and a sweat was across his brow. you would’ve thought he looked insanely attractive if it weren’t for the incident just before.

now he’s embarrassed, his hood is pulled over, and he’s pouting as he looks away from you. “i think you got a small cut, but it should be fine. i’ll go get some bandaids!” you hum, getting up from the cushions to find the box of bandages.

he completely humiliated himself in front of you. he was weak in front of you. and he hates that. “im back and here to repair your boo-boo.” you came back with the box, sitting back down and opening it. you remove a bandaid and slowly apply it til you hear him mutter something.

“sorry.”

“hm? sorry, couldn’t hear ya. mind speaking up for me?” you heard him perfectly fine. he irks before speaking up, his tone hinted with annoyance. “sorry.”

“all is forgiven, my love.” you smile, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a hug. he sighs, reciprocating the hug and leaning onto you. “please forget you saw that..” he mumbles, his face practically burning.

you chuckle, playing with loose strands of his hair as the both of you now lied on the couch. “no promises..” he clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, but placed a quick kiss on your cheek. he shuts his eyes, needing to recharge.

“mhm. love you too, jamil.” you whisper, allowing him to rest on your chest. he fell asleep in no time flat. let him rest. or even better yet, join him!

🏹┆ROOK HUNT

“how’d you fall?”

you ask, seeing as rook lied on the ground. i don’t know how to explain his pose, he’s just a theatre kid.

“never mind the details, ma chère. all that matters is that you had rushed to my rescue!” he smiles as you stood there. the most deadpan expression on your face. “i’ll just go get you bandages and not question it.” “merci!”

you rush to the infirmary, grabbing the bandages and rushing out. if nobody knew better, they’d all have assumed that rook was dead. he hasn’t moved an inch.

“where’d you injure yourself?” you ask, crouching down and inspecting his arms. “non, non. you must guess!” he laughs, sitting up right away. you groan as he initiated such an idea. “rook. im not going to guess—“

“if that is the case, ill be stuck in everlasting pain! it’d be unbearable.” he sighs dramatically, causing you to furrow your brow. “fine. did you injure your leg?” you grumble, checking each limb.

he shook his head, smiling like an absolute idiot. “here, allow me to give you a hint.” he grabs your hand guiding it to the place of the wound. of course he can’t do it without teasing you a little.

he places your hand on his shoulder, his hand, his neck, til eventually he stopped on his cheek. “my injury can be found around here.”

you look at his cheek, but there is no cut, scratch, or bruise to be seen. you raise a brow at him, but he has no shift in reaction. “rook, are you lying to me?” rook shook his head, looking you in the eyes. “I wouldn’t lie to you, mon amour. perhaps you need a closer look.”

before he could even explain what that meant, he pulled you towards him. causing you to fall onto him. “can you see it now?” he asks, staring at you lovingly.

you sigh, pulling a bandage out and placing it onto his lips. his eyes widened, but he wasn’t mad. not in the slightest! he wrapped his arms around you. taking this opportunity for a cuddle session.

despite your “annoyance,” you smiled and laughed slightly. “you’re impossible, rook.”

he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, humming happily as you spoke. his fingers intertwined with yours as the sun hit both of your figures. creating a scene resembling one of a fairytale.

💀┆IDIA SHROUD

“you can’t lock yourself into your room because of this.”

you slightly chuckle as you patch up idia’s knee. moments before, his PE class had to do the sprints. looks like he went to class on the wrong day.

while he was running, he tripped on a conveniently placed rock and fell on his knee. ortho quickly went to find you and bring you to idia so that you can comfort him.

he had tears coming from his eyes, which caused ortho to panic. you both carried him to the infirmary since he had an inability to walk. you situated him onto the cot and grabbed some bandages from the cabinets. “don’t worry niisan! the prefect will take good care of you!”

ortho chimed, trying his best to comfort his brother. idia felt his stress lessen, but that doesn’t change the immense pain he was in. “thank you, ortho. but i don’t im ever gonna to go outside again.”

he mumbles, causing ortho to pout. you come back with the bandages, smiling as you sat to the side of the cot. “im gonna have to go explain to coach vargas why you’re not here! hang tight, niisan!”

you waved to ortho, leaving just you and idia in the infirmary. “idia, you’re not going to die because of this.” you smile, placing the bandage onto his knee. idia groans, picking at his fingers. “i looked so cringe just now. definitely not my moment.”

“you didn’t look cringe, idia. you got hurt.” you grabbed his hand and held it in yours. he smiles slightly as you tried to reassure him. it was endearing to him. “thanks.. but i want to lock myself in my room for like ever after this..” he quickly mutters, hoping you wouldn’t hear that. surprise! you heard him.

“no idia, you can’t lock yourself in your room forever after this.” you sigh, realizing this was the man you fell in love with. “what? you can come too. you’d be free from all the normies surrounding you.” he stated bluntly.

“..no.” you hesitantly said, squeezing his hand slightly. you both sat in the infirmary for a few more moments before you sat up and let go of his hand. “can you stand?”

“no.” he quickly replies, not even bothering to try. you stare at him before exhaling deeply. “i’ll bring your switch then. wait here.” he smiled as he watched you exit the room. he appreciated how understanding you were. how you knew what he wanted before he even had to ask. ..well, most of the time anyway.

when you came back, you sat next to him on the cot. you both played smash bros together, playing until the console runs out of batteries. lucky for him, his console lasts for almost an entire week before it runs out of power.

let me just say, he beat your ass in smash bros.

A/N: this sat in my drafts for a very long time. i had to brainstorm A LOT to see how idia could get injured.

date published: 1/27/24

© temiizpalce — don’t steal or copy my work!

[motherlvr]

Your Morally Gray Neighborhood Spider-woman

SPOILERS FOR ATSV, this includes the plot of ATSV

Word count: 2.9k

Pairing: Prowler! Miles Morales x Spider-woman! Reader, Earth 1610! Miles Morales & reader

This is a continuation of Part 1 but may be read as a stand-alone. this will probably be the last part of this for now, thank you for reading!

Summary: During a minor identity crisis, you question your morals. Further adding to your list of problems, it seems like Miles has a twin brother he failed to mention to you.

Warnings: nothing too serious, established relationship with Prowler! Miles, possessive miles, Major spoilers for ATSV, not canon, minimal cursing, jealousy, reader is so silly sometimes, i got sappy at the end sorry, fluffy ending

A/N: just know that if u interact with any of my works then i literally love u with all my heart

You weren't sure where your morals lie, but you assumed they were in the gray area. Matter of fact, you must be colorblind.

Could you even be considered a Friendly Neighborhood Spider-woman anymore? You were sure it was against your moral code to be dating a guy that you had previously described as a "cold-blooded killer." Who were you now? The Morally Gray Neighborhood Spider-woman? It wasn't nearly as catchy. Maybe you were an anti-hero now. Is it possible for a Spider-person to be an anti-hero? Surely not, you thought.

Interrupting your thoughts was the buzz of a phone. Miles' phone. You soon realized your present state, burrowed against your boyfriend on his bed. He had a suffocating grip on you, like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go. Letting you get a breath of air, he loosened his grip on you to check his notification.

He slowly unwrapped his arms from around you and started to rise from the bed. He pressed his lips to yours before saying, "Lo siento, mami. Uncle Aaron needs me." He started putting on his Prowler gear.

To be frank, you were sick and tired. You've heard the same excuse over and over from Miles. At this point, you didn't understand why he was being so cryptic. What secret is there to hide if you already know he's the Prowler?

"Miles, enough with that vague shit. You keep acting like you're Batman or something." You sass, rolling your eyes at him and laying up in his bed. It was surprising how much he let you get away with. If anyone else had said that to him, he'd claw their throats out, surely.

"Let me come with you, Miles." You suggested, immediately jumping off his bed to follow him. He didn't like that idea. Not one bit, and it was clear on his face. "Hermosa," Miles started, but you interrupted him, pointing a finger at his face. "You know damn well I am fully capable of protecting myself. Just let me into your life, Miles. I want to see what's so important that you have to go and ditch your girlfriend yet again." You dramatically sigh, hoping he'll cave. After a few moments, Miles eventually gave in. "Fine. C'mon, princesa." He sighed and gestured for you to follow him.

He led you to what seemed to be a sketchy, dull, and grimy basement. If he wasn't infatuated with you, you'd wonder whether he was plotting to murder you down here. Upon further inspection, it was actually an apartment. As your eyes scanned the eerie room, you noticed chains hanging on the walls and an abnormal amount of weapons. However, there was also a large flatscreen and a kitchen. You could only assume that this was their Prowler Cave.

Other than the random civilian tied up on a punching bag, it looked like a fairly normal room. Almost cozy, if you were being generous.

Speaking of, why was there some poor boy restrained on a punching bag? You could barely see him due to the punching bag being larger than him, but from your current standpoint, you could only assume he was around your age or younger.

Miles stepped in front of you, holding a hand out to prevent you from taking a step further. Curling your lip in a frown, you shooed his hand away and continued walking, but stopped before the hostage could spot you. He stayed behind, lurking in the corner.

Miles' uncle greeted you both, "I've got a surprise for y'all." Apparently, Miles had let his uncle know in advance that you were welcome into his Prowler cave.

Miles, ever loving his dramatic entrances, jumped down from the corner he was lurking in. You had to stifle your laugh.

Uncle Aaron rotated the punching bag, revealing the unfortunate boy that got restrained upon it. Your jaw fell to the ground. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. How was this possible? You started to wish you had paid attention during Physics.

Attached to the punching bag was a near-identical copy of your beloved boyfriend. His eyes were wide full of fear, and for a second, you felt pity for him. Uncle Aaron left the room, leaving only you and the two Miles.

"Your dad is still alive?" Miles asked his impersonator, astonishingly unfazed by the fact that there was a copy of him staring him directly in his eyes. "What?" The impersonator questioned. "Your father, you said he's still alive." Miles repeated, his voice piquing with interest. "Yeah." The copy replied in a low voice. His face had no remnants of fear, it morphed into confusion instead. "Who are you?" The fake Miles asked, his eyebrows furrowing. He reminded you of your boyfriend in that way.

Your dearly beloved Prowler opened his mask, "I'm Miles Morales. But you, you can call me the Prowler." He said, his accent exposing. Those simple two sentences had more of an effect on you than they should have.

"If I don't go home, our dad is going to die." The fake Miles says with fear in his voice. "Your dad." Miles interjects coldly, lacking sympathy. The hope was slowly fading from the other Miles' face. He shook his head and said, "Please, you have to let me go." with more assertiveness than before. Your boyfriend leaned closer to the fake, "Why would I do that?" he inquired.

Deciding to interrupt their stare-down, you stepped out of the darkness and made yourself known to the fake Miles.

His face lit up with recognition. He whispered your name, "Is that you?"

"First off, how do you know my name?" You questioned, raising a confused brow. This whole situation was starting to creep you out. As you stepped closer to him, both of your spider-senses went off.

"You're like me." You both said in unison.

Your boyfriend was watching this interaction, narrowing his eyes. The fake Miles was only giving your boyfriend more reasons to keep him confined here.

"Look, you've got to help me. In my universe, you were my girlfriend too. Except you weren't Spider-woman. Don't you have a sense of morality? Hasn't anyone told you that with great power comes great responsibility?" The poor guy was practically begging you. You were sure that if he wasn't tied up on a punching bag, he'd be on his knees pleading with you. Which would be a fun sight to watch, you think.

You scoffed at the fake Miles Morales and replied, "You said it wrong. It's, with great ability comes great accountability." Rolling your eyes. This impersonator couldn't even get the quote right.

"That's not-" He cut himself off. "Whatever. You've got to help me, please." The fake Miles pleaded with you. He started to glitch, this universe was taking a toll on him already. As you stared into his eyes, he reminded you of a miserable, dejected puppy. Unbeknownst to you, the less-menacing Miles Morales was only stalling to charge up his venom strike.

Fortunately for him, he didn't need to resort to his venom strike just yet. That would only make this situation harder for him to get out of. He wasn't planning on getting on the bad side of another Spider-person.

"I think we should help him." You broke the silence, turning to your Miles. He was about to argue with you when you continued, "Not only because he's a fellow spider-person, but also because it's harder to resist someone when they look exactly like you, Miles." You grinned, teasing him.

As always, Miles couldn't deny you. He growled to his other self, directing the clone's attention away from you. "You're lucky my girl was here to save you this time, spider. I would've had no issue leaving you here to watch you rot."

As you untied Miles from the punching bag, he mouthed a "Thank you" to you and said,

"Do you guys happen to have a watch that can teleport me back home?" in all seriousness. It was almost comical. "No, but maybe I could help you out." You responded. "I have a good friend, Peter Parker. He's a scientist that specializes in quantum physics, I bet he could help. He works at Alchemax." His eyes seemed to lighten, "You know a Peter Parker?"

On the way to Alchemax, your boyfriend decided the phony version of himself was getting too comfortable with you. He was asking you way too many questions such as,

"How did you become Spider-woman?" The same way you did, Miles.

"How long have you been Spider-woman?" Ever since I got bit by a spider.

"Why are you with the Prowler?" He's not such a bad guy. A few seconds passed and you said, Nevermind. But that's what makes it exciting. You wink at him.

And that's when your lover decided to step in. He interrupted whatever Miles #2 was going on about. "Shut up for once." He snarled at him, towering over his clone. Within a second, your boyfriend had his copy in his grip with his razor-sharp claws in his face, a warning. You noticed sparks flying from the other Miles' fingertips. Why don't I have electric powers? You pondered. Not wanting to witness a homicide today, you pulled your boyfriend away before he could get the chance to slaughter himself. Or at least the morally good version of himself.

Your Miles snaked his arm around your waist possessively. He glared at the other Miles through his screen mask, but you were sure Miles #2 felt his sinister stare. He and you were walking a few paces ahead of his duplicate.

Some days, you weren't sure whether you wanted to kiss him or throttle him during his sleep. Although you couldn't deny that a part of you liked seeing him like this.

“Settle down, babe. He’s not my type.” You reassured him. He almost felt appeased, until he rethought your words. “Not your type? Mami, we look almost identical.” Your Miles said with irritation in his tone. You laughed at his confusion as you shook your head.

Although they were nearly identical in appearance, you noticed clear differences. For instance, your Miles had an intimidating and menacing presence. While the other Miles had more of a "Friendly Neighborhood Spider-man" energy to him.

"No, I mean, he's a little too dorky for me." Your boyfriend seemed to approve of your response, gazing at you. You shivered under his watch.

“I heard that." Miles #2 muttered, following behind you two.

Miles’ gaze was still set on you. He didn’t intend on breaking it any time soon. Although you couldn't exactly see his eyes, you could feel his stare. Nervously glancing the other way, you avoided eye contact. Because you knew that if you looked at him again, you'd pull him in and wouldn't be able to pull away. You felt like you were pinning for him all over again.

You glanced back at him, "Miles, stop staring at me. I might kiss you.” In an instant, his mask was off. He pulled you into a searing kiss, cupping your head with his hands. You reciprocated immediately.

His kiss was demanding and forceful. You could hear the thump of your heart, increasingly becoming louder. It was only a few moments long but felt like forever. He pulled away sooner than you'd liked, leaving you desiring more. “Had to show him that you’re my girl. Sólo mía. Right, princesa?” He stared into your eyes, making your heart pound impossibly faster. You cheekily nodded, the words being lost on your tongue. Miles smirked in satisfaction and closed his mask as you all approached Alchemax.

You strode into Alchemax like it was your second home and looked for Peter's office. Your boyfriend treaded right by your side, while the other Miles strayed behind you like a lost puppy. Which essentially, he was.

Successfully finding Peter's door wide open, you knocked. He looked up from his pile of work. Peter greeted you with a smile, "Come on in. It's great to see you, kid. But, uh, why is the Prowler in my office?" He said to you, his voice barely above a whisper. The Prowler in question was menacingly yet quietly standing in the corner of Peter's office.

Peter looked slightly green, but you consoled him. "Oh, don't mind him. He's my boyfriend." You shrugged. Peter shot you an extremely concerned look, judging your taste in guys, no doubt.

You simply smiled and patted him on the shoulder, "But anyway, Peter. This is Miles, he’s from a different dimension." You pointed at Miles, who stood stiffly next to you.

"We were hoping you could help us create an inter-dimensional teleporter. Or rather, a watch that can jump universes?" You told Peter.

The scientist seemed fascinated by this information about the multiverse. “That's a specific request. Lucky for you guys, I've been working on a prototype. Be wary that it is just a prototype, so there's no guarantee it'll work." Peter said.

"Great! I just have to make sure I get out of here before I either glitch to death or Miguel and his spider-team show up to beat me to death." Miles awkwardly said, scratching the back of his head. His glitching issue was getting worse the more time he spent in your universe.

Spider-team? No one's ever told you about this. If this "Spider-team" really did exist, why weren't you invited? No, you take that back. You could name a couple of reasons why you weren't invited, starting with your boyfriend who was standing next to you in his full Prowler suit. This is what you deserve for not being a Friendly Neighborhood Spider-woman, you sigh.

"Let's hope this works then." Peter says with an unsure tone. He cuffs the watch around Miles' wrist and changes the settings.

Silence falls upon the room as you all observe the watch flash for a moment, and then go dim again. How anti-climactic.

"Oops, sorry guys. Wrong settings." Peter Parker awkwardly laughed and fumbled with the watch again, and then said "Alright, this one should work."

Suddenly appearing to your right is a captivating portal of sorts. It was in the shape of multiple hexagons and had an orange hue. You couldn't take your eyes off of it, you'd never seen something so alluring. Other than your boyfriend, that is. You chuckled at your inner monologue.

Peter was ecstatic, “The other scientists doubted multiversal travel existed, but this is a critical discovery in the history of science!”

Miles, the Spider-Man one, was bewildered. He could finally go home and save his father. “Dude, this is awesome! I can't thank you guys enough. Maybe I'll see you guys again sometime." He smiled, referring to Peter and you.

Miles #2 seemed to be leaning in for a hug when your boyfriend interjected. He stood in front of you and glared at the phony version of himself, "Not too friendly now." he scowled.

“Chill, man! I didn’t mean it like that!" Instead, Miles gives you a two-fingered salute and fist-bumps Peter. "See you around." He finally says, jumping into the portal and wasting no additional time.

The portal closed behind him and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Maybe you weren't a morally gray neighborhood spider-woman after all.

Who were you kidding? You're dating a murderous asshole. You must've been guilty by association.

You just hoped that the dorkier version of your boyfriend made it to his universe, and wasn’t sent to a completely different one yet again.

Shaking off the thoughts, you told the scientist, "Thank you, Peter! You were a big help." You hugged Peter and waved him goodbye. "Anytime, kid." He replied. Your prowler followed you out, his hand settling on your waist.

As you returned to Miles' house, you sat on his bed with him and said, "You know, your cooperation has to count for something. Even if you were just brooding the whole time."

"I'm the Prowler. I wasn’t brooding, ma.”

"Whatever you say." You rolled your eyes at him. "Anyway, you didn't kill him, so that's a start. I'm proud of us!" You gleamed at him as you mentally patted yourself on the back.

"You know I love you, ma. But you talk too much." Miles said, pulling you by the waist into his embrace.

You knitted your eyebrows as you replied, "Babe. It runs in every Spider-person. Didn't you hear how-" This time, Miles was the one shutting you up by pressing his lips to yours in a surprisingly soft kiss. His gentle lips moved against yours, and you couldn't help but melt into his touch.

You smiled into the kiss, deepening it. You didn't need words to show him how deep your affection for him lies. If you could, you'd freeze time to forever stay in his hold.

-----------

Dating the public’s enemy number one had to be diminishing your PR. Not that you had one, anyway.

Initially, you worried that your terribly different lifestyles would inevitably lead to the end of your relationship. The Prowler and Spider-woman was an unlikely combination, after all. You snuck out at night to fight crime and restore justice, while he snuck around with his uncle to be a hitman of Kingpin. But you loved him like no one else could.

He invoked emotions in you that you weren't completely familiar with. Your mind was consumed by thoughts of him. You couldn't breathe with him around, nor could you control how fast your heart throbbed. But you would gladly suffocate if he was the one taking your breath away.

And you had a feeling that your sentiment wasn't unrequited.

-----------

hermosa - beautiful

lo siento - i'm sorry

sólo mío - only mine

princesa - princess

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Aemond X Wife!Reader: Words of comfort

Warning: fluff, Aemond being a good husband, talk of pregnancy, fear of faliure, reader is a bit self consious, no use of y/n, gn reader

Word count: 970

You stared into the mirror, face twisted into a concentrated expression as you tried, for the third time, to finish your hairstyle. Normally a maid would help you do your hair but you’d sent her to help Heleana with her children. There never seemed to be enough people to help the twins when they got fussy. Heleana did her best of course but sometimes it was to much for the young mother to handle. 

You groaned in frustration, watching as your hair began to unravel on its own. Aemond watched you twist your arms behind your back in an attempt to grab a chunk of hair that was missing from your braid. A small smile tugged at his lips. You were quite amusing like this. He could have watched you in silence for the rest of the day but your eyes caught him in the reflection causing you to turn to face him.

“Everything alright?”

“Everything is fine. I merely wanted to sit with you.”

“Well then, make yourself comfortable.”

Aemond began to walk around the room. You turned back to the mirror, focusing on the task at hand once more. Aemond stared out the window of your room, his eyes moving over the world outside with little interest. He was far more interested in the small rage filled noises you kept letting out. 

“Oh I give up.”

You groaned, placing your hairbrush on the table in aggravation. You placed your head in your hands, sighing in defeat. Aemond made his way towards you, his hands moving to rest on your shoulders. He moved his palms against your body in a comforting manner. You let out a small sound, raising your head so you could see him. It was silly that something so simple had managed to get tears from your eyes but Aemond knew you weren’t crying about your hair. There was something more to it, and he would find out what.

“Want me to help?”

“I’m sure you have other matters to attend to. More important matters.”

“No matter is more important than the joy of my wife.”

You smiled at him, placing your hand on top of his. Aemond moved to sit behind you, fingers moving against your hair. You watched him unbraid your hair before grabbing the hairbrush of the table. He brushed your hair thoroughly, making sure there were knots. Once he was satisfied he placed the hairbrush down and began to braid your hair. His slim fingers moved over your locks gently. He looked so focused that you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him.

“How many do you want?”

“Two. And then you tie them together.”

Aemond gave you a hum moving to do the hairstyle you had requested. He’d seen you in it loads of times, it was your go to hairdo. It took him a while to get it just right, the amount of hair you had was quite large. Once he was done he rested his hand on your shoulders, observing as you took in his work. You turned your head so you could look at him straight on.

“It’s perfect. Thank you husband.”

You placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Want to braid mine?”

“Yes.”

Aemond switched positions with you, allowing you to become face to face with his hair. You knew he would remove the small braids you filled his hair with after he left the room but you didn’t mind. Messing with his hair calmed you down and Aemond knew that better then anyone.

“Do you want to tell me what's wrong?”

You let out a sigh moving to start another small braid. Aemond waited for you to start talking, his eye watching your lips quiver for a moment. When you finally started to speak he could tell you were trying very hard to hold back tears.

“I can’t do anything right. I can’t thread my corsets alone. I can’t braid my hair. The last time i tried to embroider my dress I stained it with red because I kept pricking my finger with the needle.”

These were all things that bothered you but Aemond knew there was something else. Something bigger. You bit into your lip, sighing once more before closing your eyes. 

“I can’t get pregnant.” 

There it was. The real root of the problem.

“How am i supposed to be a good wife to you if i can’t even perform my duties correctly.”

Aemond turned around, his hair slipping from your fingers as he did so. He placed a palm on your cheek. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t undermine yourself.”

“Aemond its my one-”

“I do not care. You are my wife and I love you. It doesn't matter if you can’t get pregnant right now, we have time.”

“And if I do get pregnant, what if…what if I'm not a good mother?”

“That isn’t possible. I’ve seen you with Heleana's kids. They adore you. There isn't a bad bone inside your body. You will make a fine mother. Just as you make a fine wife.”

Aemond’s thumb moved to wipe away your tears before placing a small kiss to your temple. You moved forward, allowing Aemond to tug you into his embrace. His hands moved over your hair, tracing over the braids he’d made moments ago.

“And another thing. I quite enjoy the process of making a baby.”

“Aemond!”

You gave him a playful slap to the arm, feeling his chest move as he laughed. You couldn’t help but laugh as well, Aemond had a way of always seeing the very best in you. You loved him for it. You raised your head from his chest, placing a kiss to his lips. He rested his head against your forehead, closing his eyes.

“I love you Aemond.”

“I love you more.”

[phntxm]

} (newby) demon muzan, soft muzan?, arranged marriage, fiancée! reader, fem! reader, mention of bl00d, reader's face got cut

let's pretend that blo0d transfusion exists in haien period a/n; usually, I stick to writing headcanons and avoid posting scenarios because I worry it might not be good enough. however, I've chosen to take a chance this time so if there are any mistakes, please bear with me y-y wc : 1.2k

you never imagined that one day you would willingly sacrifice yourself to aid your sick fiancé, who barely acknowledged you

he was unkind. neither of you had agreed to this arranged marriage; it was solely the decision of his family, the Ubuyashiki clan, who couldn't bear the thought of their ailing son dying alone

at first, the situation was difficult, Muzan be believed having a wife wouldn't extend his life or be of any use. you tried your best, simply aiming to fulfill the marriage contract, we don't have to be in love

the arrangement benefited both clans. the Ubuyashiki clan could lessen their appearance of pity by providing a wife for their son, while your family could regain their lost wealth and noble status during their down in luck

and at the turning point, when he was injured and lost a lot amount of blood. neither his family nor yours offered to help him, they were afraid to give blood to someone like him. they're just hired a cheap doctor to care for him, you were the only one willing to give him your blood without hesitation

after that, he was more open to you

until the day the doctor's medicine was effective

but without knowing it, you were only happy for your fiancé to become healthy like normal people. you heard a nonsensical rumor about a demon attacking people at night, it must be a bear or wild animals..

" I am greatly rejoiced for thee, that thy health hath now become better " you said it as you started to sit beside him on the warmed tatami mat, gazing out at the garden beyond

" the physic hath wrought an unexpected efficacy upon me " he nodded in agreement, raising his arm and gently squeezing it to show the increased muscle and strength he now possessed

" I heard he was a thrifty physician, deemed unfit, yet he proved skilled to mend thee, I do delight exceedingly " as you mentioned this, making Muzan to reconsider his first encounter with the doctor. he couldn't believe he would successfully be healed, as the doctor was merely a cheap physician hired by his clan

" in speaking thereof, thou dost prove thyself useful to me " he turned his face towards you and smiled gently, a smile that could barely be called a smile

" I do greatly admire thy bravery " he said, his smile filled with pride and happiness, yet tinged with a sadistic undertone that sent shivers down your spine

his words left you stunned; you never expected a compliment from someone like him " my pleasure " you said as you bowed to him, It really makes you feel happy, yet it seems like god isn't kind to either of you

" yet unfortunately, I hope that one day thou and I may stroll together, now it is unwise to go abroad by night " you express how shameful it was for the chance of having a normal life with him to be interrupted by some kind of creature " folk do speak of a demon, that doth hunt people by night " you know he doesn't believe in anything silly like this, so the reaction he gave you afterward was not surprising

" demon.. tis the name by which they are called? " he chuckles softly, of course he would do that, you think, he's the man who- " art thou fearful of demons" his question caught you off guard. he doesn't mean it, does he?

sometimes he asks you strange questions, given that he has spent his entire life trapped in his own house. questions about the outside world grab his attention the most, so you didn't mind it, but that doesn't mean he would believe in such a fairy tale like this. you remain silent, not because you're trying to avoid his question, but as his voice shifts, growing more serious " in the night doth stalk a creature, feeding on flesh of men.. art thou afraid? " he looks at you, and you sense he already has an answer in mind. if you answer wrongly, you fear something bad might happen

" I do not believe in demons, tis but a wild beast " you answered while trying to hide the fear you felt, his question has indeed made the atmosphere awkward, you think

Muzan tilts his head slightly " is it so? what if... what if I be that demon? wouldst thou be afraid? " he seems to enjoy seeing you like that

" what do you mean? "

" thou hast heard my words. wouldst thou abandon me if I were that demon? even there is no chance of fleeing from me "

what on earth is he talking about? " I... " your words evoke a sense of fear and confusion, as he reaches his hand to gently touch your cheeks, his actions were so contrasting to what you felt; he touched you as if it were something fragile, yet not with the intention to protect, but to possess it, to do whatever he pleased with it

" what a pity. I do hold thee dear, and thou wilt surely prove useful unto me " you startled slightly; his hand felt so cold, almost as if he weren't human

" hast thou any final words? " you trembled, hearts beating fast, unsure if it was pure fear or excitement. you didn't feel the urge to run away; it was the same mix of emotions you felt when you first volunteered to give him your blood, the joy of helping someone you love, intertwined with the fear that death might be near, and you might not make it out alive " thou didst inquire if I fear demons? do I dread death? I would say, tis not that I lack fear, but the very thought of aiding thee doth making me to endure it " you're contemplating your feelings, realizing there's no right answer for him. in that moment, you didn't strategize on how to answer so he would spare your life, instead, you acted on what your heart felt, just being honest, something you wouldn't regret later— though there might be no 'later,' because you're going to die right here at his hands " I once gave thee my blood, I do not fear to give thee my blood again, it gladdens my heart that I may lend thee aid once more " you close your eyes, gently touching his hand on your cheek, cherishing this fleeting moment of happiness for the last time " take it all as thou dost desire " you said, as you turned to place a soft kiss on his palm, that even if he's not used to or doesn't like being touched, what's the worst that could happen? he's gonna kill me? then- well..

Muzan paused, stunned by your response. then, a sadistic smile slowly spread across his face once more, his eyes gleaming with a disturbing intensity. as he began to grow out his sharp, menacing nails, pressed them firmly against your cheek, and sliced your cheeks until they were red and bleeding " it would be discourteous of me to not return what I have received, I shall give thee my blood also " it was a gift from the demon king, leaving you unsure whether it should be seen as a blessing or a curse. nevertheless, if this is what god desires, then so be it

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Hi hi hope I'm not too late to request something. If I am feel free to just delete this

Anyway can I ask for headcannons with a gender neutral reader with Sebek, Vil, Idia, and Leona with a s/o who loves to use cheesy pick up lines on them after they've started dating? Like they're already dating and their partner comes up to them like "Do you have a name or can I just call you mine" lol

Idia Shroud:

Some cheesy lines just get Idia to roll his eyes, knowing you’re purposely trying to get a reaction out of him, but some do manage to get exactly what you want. Hearing a genuine declaration of love, a confirmation that your souls are tired, and you compared him to an angel (your angel, specifically), he can feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He normally spiraled from embarrassment after, trying to hide the pink tips of his hair before you waved the victory flag right in his face, rejecting the fact that such normie pick-up lines could be super effective on someone like him.

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona wants to know what he did to you to subject him to the horror of pick-up lines when you already had to get through the hurdles all couples had at the beginning of a relationship. He could be surprisingly smooth himself when he wanted to, delivering the lines straight back at you as if it were a competition. He wanted to out-woo you and if that didn’t work; he wasn’t above fighting dirty. He knew the exact glint you got in your eyes when you were about to drop a new line and he acted first, smothering your lips with his own to successfully wipe your mind of anything but responding to his touch.

Sebek Zigvolt:

You have a 50/50 chance of it going right over Sebek’s head, or it piercing his heart like an arrow when he fully understood the meaning of your honeyed words. Pick-up lines weren’t effective for wooing him but they did provide you with a source of entertainment, especially when Sebek responded with genuine concern as to what must be wrong with your eyesight or if you had really injured yourself looking for him. He seemed a little frazzled when you stated you were just flirting with him, wondering why you felt the need to steal his heart when he had already offered it to you without pretense.

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil would show respect for a well-crafted yet still cheesy pick-up line, as long as it met his expectations. He judged based on word choice and confidence in your delivery, giving you a rating for each line in hopes of you finding a line to truly sweep him off his feet. He is still hopelessly endeared by your silly behavior, his heart nearly skipping a beat when you explained your reasoning for this to him. People were naturally too intimidated by Vil to flirt properly, so you thought he deserved the normalcy of, even if for only a short amount of time (and from someone he was already romantically involved with).

[thebookbutterfly]

Hey there! Could you possibly write a Sandor Clegane x gender neutral reader where Sandor has a soft spot for reader and reader feels the same? He tries to hide it but one day reader get’s hurt and he patches them up and maybe confessions come out?

🦋 Little Bird— Sandor Clegane x gn!Reader

Summary: You get injured in an ambush. Sandor carries you to safety and takes care of you.

Tags: #so much hurt/comfort, #a teensy bit of angst, #fluffy ending, #potentially OOC Sandor Clegane but personally I think he is pretty baby girl, #request

Warnings: Gender Neutral, no use of Y/N, descriptions of blood and injury, mentions of death, cannon compliant threats of violence, no beta and no ‘ragrets' [1,371 words]

AN: This is a request by @agender-wolfie. I really hope that this is what you were looking for! It came out a bit longer than I intended, but I am such a sucker for hurt/comfort tropes I really shouldn’t be surprised lmao. I wrote this all in one sitting and I haven’t done any editing so please excuse any errors. Happy reading! 🦋 Love BB

If you like this work my requests are currently open! So please give me your ideas ;)

You hissed a curse, gravelly and threadbare, as Sandor sidestepped another fallen tree.

A jumble of vulgar expressions that barely registered to you as they left your mouth. Almost all of them taught to you by the giant man holding you to his chest. The hound cradled you surprisingly gently, but his tension was evident. It was written all over him.

His scarred face, which you so rarely got the opportunity to study, was pulled into a broken grimace. The rest of him taut like a wire ready to snap beneath his armour. If you weren’t bleeding all over him, you might have reached up to prod the furrow of his brow. A silly attempt to smooth away Sandor’s permanent scowl.

The thought shattered as another wave pain tore through your ribs. Every bump in the path sowing fresh agony in the ruined skin and muscle.

Sandor ran a calloused thumb over the side of your knee in apology. Uttering clumsy noises of comfort as he picked up the pace.

“We’re almost there. Hold on just a bit longer, little bird.”

His gruff voice was cut with a noticeable amount of panic. Your brow scrunched at the unusual sound. You had gotten used to many things about Sandor as you travelled North with him. His rough sense of humour, bitter attitude, scarred face and huge stature were familiar to you by now. Underneath those things, his kindness and his softheartedness had become apparent to you too.

All the vulnerable pieces of himself that he smothered and choked beneath layers of vulgar humour and recklessness, had been presented to you in glimpses as you got to know him. But panic? Panic was new to you.

The farmhouse that Sandor had marked out in the distance finally drew into view. Up close it was a measly grey thing. The stone masonry looked haphazard at best but its chimney puffed with life. Behind it a barn lay with its doors open and rattling in the freezing wind.

You expected Sandor to head straight for the shelter of the barn but instead he strode to the front door. The family of four, seated around the dining room table inside, scrambled back as he slammed open the door with his usual subtlety. Which was to say— none at all.

You groaned as the sudden movement jostled your wound. Normally you would have chastised him for being so rude but your head was swimming. Too weak to lift your hand, you focused your energy on your eyes. Willing them to stay open, if not for your sake then for the sake of your worried companion.

An old man stepped forward to speak but Sandor cut him off, “One of you better be a healer, because if they die I will mount all of your heads outside on sticks.”

It was an ugly threat and they paled. The youngest boy whimpered looking suddenly ill. A younger woman with dark hair and a generous smattering of freckles stepped forward. She gestured a slightly shaky hand towards the table before him, before turning to her family.

“Clear the table, quickly. We can lay them down here,” her attention shifted back to the massive man standing in the doorway, “I’m not a healer by profession but I’ll do everything I can.”

Sandor seemed pleased enough by this answer. The rest of the family had been wise enough not to put up a fight and so Sandor stepped forward. He eased his grip and lay you down on the hastily cleared surface.

He moved to step away and let this stranger do her work but you whimpered. Fingertips clutching at air until he shifted back into reach.

A leather belt was stuffed between your teeth as your tunic was torn up the side. Unfamiliar hands grasped at your arms and legs. Holding you down with a bruising grip. All the while, Sandor brushed his bloodied fingers over your forehead and through your hair. The warmth of his skin a small consolation for the pain you were about to endure.

The woman lifted a needle and thread. With a glance at Sandor and his affirming nod she began to count down and you closed your eyes, unable to look.

Three.

Two.

One.

Fire. Your body was on fire. You arched off the table. Trying to escape the agony, the needle slowly piecing your flesh back together. The table shook as you thrashed but the hands holding you down didn’t falter. Sandor’s gravely words of comfort were the last things ringing in your ears as the world went black.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first thing that you noticed when you woke up was the lack of pain. Your side still ached, the wound tender, but it was a dull throbbing now. No longer, the screaming torture it was as Sandor carried you away from where you were ambushed.

The second was the warmth. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this warm since you and Sandor had journeyed across the border into the North. Sandor.

You opened your eyes slowly. The lighting was dim but from what you could tell you were inside the barn. The door was closed now though and soft orange candlelight illuminated the space.

You lay on your good side underneath a thick layer of blankets, and next to you lay the man your eyes sought for. His arm tucked you to him, large calloused hand resting somewhere on your lower back.

His heart thudded rhythmically beneath where your head lay on his chest. His even breathing and faint snores filled the quiet. Despite your inner protests it was the most comfortable you had been in years.

You gazed up at him, not wanting to wake him just yet. Sandor didn’t sleep nearly enough and you were content to watch the way the candlelight danced across his skin. It caught on his scarred cheek. Shadows flickering on the panes of his face.

Unable to resist you lifted a hand to his cheek. Your touch was featherlight but his eyes snapped open. Sandor’s gaze flicked to you immediately. Scanning you for distress and finding none, his body relaxed.

“Seven Hells, I thought you were going to die. Never do that again,” he said gruffly. His cheeks were flushed but he made no move to shift away from you.

Your voice was cracked from screaming but you still managed to mumble, “M’Sorry.”

Sandor sighed, “It wasn’t your fault, little bird.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a water-skein. Unscrewing the top he held it out towards you.

“Here, drink. Then you can go back to sleep,” he said.

“Thank you.”

The moisture eased the pain in your throat and soon you were snuggled back up under Sandor’s arm. The wind howled through the rafters and you both sat in silence for a little while.

Your thoughts broke the quiet, “Thank you for carrying me here. Thank you for staying.”

Sandor’s eyes met yours, they were unguarded and soft in a way that seemed reserved for you. Reserved for these conversations in the dark.

His voice was low as he replied, “I would have carried you to the ends of the earth, little bird.”

You studied him, the scars that mottled his skin, the cut on his brow and the curl of his mouth. Something deep within you settled, like a cat stretching out on a rug.

“You’re a good man, Sandor Clegane,” you said.

The conviction in your voice hit him harder than any blow on the battlefield ever had. The tidal wave of emotions that followed threatened to take him under but he swallowed them down.

You pretended not to notice his watery eyes and he lifted his spare hand to stroke your head. “Go to sleep, I’ll keep you safe.”

You nodded sleepily, too tired to fight it off any longer. A few seconds pass before you feel it. The soft press of his lips on your forehead. They linger there for a while before he pulls back, the warmth that they leave behind searing like a brand on your skin. You smile as you drift off, lulled to sleep by his warm embrace and steady breathing.

“Goodnight, little bird.”

[just-jordie-things]

[part two] we weren’t just friends - okkotsu yuuta

word count: 11k warnings: swearing, drinking (but it’s legal!), mentions of masturbating summary: two idiots that are bad at confrontation and don’t want things to be awkward somehow make things awkward anyways. more info: college!au, aged up characters, roommates!au, childhood friends, n*oya makes an appearance in this part, soft yuuta taking care of drunk reader

part two: “i’m not ready, eyes heavy now” ___

[mai] : do you want me to come kidnap you? just say we have plans

[maki] : you don’t need to kidnap her.  she’s a big girl.  She can handle talking about her feelings.  can’t you, (y/n)?

[(y/n)] : no i don’t think i can :’( pls come rescue me, idk what to do.

[mai] : maki where are the keys i’m going over there

[maki] : the fuck you are, stay away from my car.

[maki] : i say this with love, (y/n).  get out of bed and just talk to him.  it’s not like you boned.  A little kissing never hurt anyone.  your friendship is stronger than that, don’t you think? 

[(y/n)] : …it was a lot of kissing…

[mai] : did he get a boner? 

[maki] : you’ve been friends a long time.  and he kissed you back, didn’t he? he probably enjoyed it.

[(y/n)] : i think he enjoyed it… idk… i’m rlly embarrassed about it.

[mai] : if he got a boner he enjoyed it.

[maki] : ur being gross :p

[(y/n)] : but what if he just got carried away and it didn’t mean anything and he’s upset with me? 

[maki] : did he say he was upset with you? 

[(y/n)] : … no.

[mai] : he’s probs pent up now.  you should seduce him again.

[maki] : then all this talk is pointless.  go TALK to him and then if it’s bad we’ll come swoop you up and take you out for the day.  deal? 

[(y/n)] : bed is comfy… and safe…

[mai] : and if we don’t hear from u we’ll assume u seduced him again

[maki] : you got this :)

(y/n) sighed as she turned off her phone, dropping it onto her mattress as she glared up at her ceiling.  The light from the sun had long since poured in through the window, having woken her up hours ago.  She wasn’t surprised to see so many texts in her groupchat with the Zen’in twins after Toge blabbed about what he thought he saw when he returned to the apartment late last night.

Normally she would’ve ignored their pestering and turned down any assumptions they may have made.  But she needed advice from her closest friends on what to do now.  She had yet to leave the safety of her bedroom, knowing Yuuta would be awake and going about his morning routine.  Maybe it was silly to be afraid of running into him, but her shame kept her shackled to the bed.

Maki was right, it wasn’t fair to assume how Yuuta would behave today.  It was a discredit to the years of friendship under their belts.  But then again, making out in a sudden moment of weakness was a blunder on their friendship, too.

Dramatically, she rolled over, planting her face in her pillow and groaning out her frustrations.

When she finally made an appearance, Yuuta’s head shot up from the kitchen table where he’d set up his things to spend the day working on an essay he should’ve started yesterday.  Just like yesterday, his focus shifted completely as soon as her door creaked open and she stepped out.

Her eyes widened a bit when they landed on him, as if she was surprised to see him there at all.  He gave her a small smile, hoping to ease any nerves she likely had coming into the morning.

“Mornin’,” He hummed, his gaze fixed on her as she lingered in her doorway, seemingly unsure about leaving her room at all.  “Made a pot of coffee if you need some” 

Yes, caffeine, her body pleaded, and she nodded at him gratefully as she made her way to the kitchen.  Even as she grabbed her usual mug out of the cupboard and poured a generous amount of coffee into it, she could feel his eyes on her back.

He watches as she shuffles about the kitchen, pouring in her cream and sugar before testing the drink, then repeating the cream and sugar.  He smiles to himself as this happens a few more times.  She’s not happy with it until it’s color is milky brown, and it surely no longer tastes like coffee at all.

“Thank you” She hums when she takes a longer drink, smiling as it finally tastes perfect.

She turns to him, leaning against the counter and holding her mug carefully in both hands.  He gives her a nod, his eyes flickering over her, as though looking for any sign of discontent.  He finds none.

“Yeah,” He replies quietly.  “You sleep alright?” 

(y/n) nods back.  “You?” 

He shrugs a shoulder, his head moving from side to side with lack of a real answer.  Her lips pull into an awkward frown, not knowing what to say now.

She hates that she finds it so hard to speak to him.  It had never been like this between them before.  They’d never tiptoed around each other, conversation always came naturally.  And when they were quiet, the silence was comfortable.

The silence now feels so heavy that her chest aches.

She hates that she’s the reason for the nervous energy buzzing in the air, making her skin prick with goosebumps and her heart beat erratically.

“I, uh, I think I’m gonna go out with the twins later” She forces herself to speak, saying the first thing that comes to mind.  Even though she hadn’t explicitly made plans with the Zen’ins, she was sure they’d do her this favor.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” She sighs, sounding less convincing by the second.  “Probably for drinks, I could really use a drink” She mumbles the last part.

Yuuta chuckles, his smile cracking a little further as his eyes catch the clock on the oven behind her, before looking at her again.

“Not even ten in the mornin’,” He tells her, tilting his head.  “Already need to forget today?”

Her face flushes and she tilts her head to stare down at her cup of coffee.

“That’s alright,” Yuuta brushes off her nervousness as best he could.  He just wanted her to be at ease, even if that meant pretending nothing happened between them.  “I’ve got an essay to keep me company today anyways,” He says, nodding to the scattered textbooks and notebooks before him.  “But you’ll let me know if you need a ride, or anything?”

She nods back at him, the smile on her face a little more genuine this time.

“Yeah, I will” She says, and finally makes her way out of the kitchen.

She goes to greet their fish good morning, cooing softly to the thing as it swims about it’s tank excitedly.  She gives into it’s begging, sprinkling in the smallest amount of fish flakes as she could, and cheering quietly as he strikes at the little clump of food at the surface of the water.  Yuuta tries not to stare as she murmurs and coos to the fish as though it were any other pet, a kitten, or a hamster.  But he can’t help the lurch in his heart watching her sweet talk the betta that only had the capacity to care about being hungry.  The scene truly was a testament to her character.

She finished her coffee and went about her normal routine without much else to say to him.  Yuuta tried not to mind.  He tried to focus on his essay and give her space to settle back into what felt normal.  He just hoped she’d relax sooner than later.  He’d hate to have her feel uncomfortable in her own home.

Shortly after she’d gotten in the shower, he lost focus on his project again and reached for his phone.

[yuuta] : i feel like a total fucking idiot.  i think i messed everything up.

[toge] : looked like u guys enjoyed urselves to me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[yuuta] : so not what i meant. [yuuta] : she can barely talk to me.  she only just got out of bed.  she seemed so uncomfortable.

[toge] : did she seem mad? maybe she just didn’t know what to say.  it is kinda awkward

[yuuta] : i don’t think she’s mad.  I think she just regrets it

[toge] : did u bring it up?

[yuuta] : no, i don’t know how

[toge] : well did u try ‘hey we made out and i liked it, what are we?’

[yuuta] : ._.

[toge] : ok taking that as a no. [toge] : but starting w that is prlly a good idea

[yuuta] : but what if that makes it worse [yuuta] : what if she doesn’t want anything more and it was just like a one time thing yk [yuuta] : we both had a bit to drink. [yuuta] : i think i’m going to have a panic attack.

[toge] : ok slow down for a sec [toge] : you’re jumping to conclusions, remember? you can’t decide what she’s thinking bcuz you haven’t talked about it. [toge] : rn what you have control over is what you want to do about it.  So for now, just try to focus on that. [toge] : and ur essay for econ.  actually you should put most of your focus on that.

[yuuta] : ok ur right.  i’m gonna work on that now. [yuuta] : thank you.  I’ll talk to you about it later.

[toge] : :) ___

Yuuta had never felt the menacing glare of the Zen’in twins fixed on him before.  When he opens the door to find them in the hallway, clearly perturbed to be greeted by him rather than the girl they were here to escort for the evening, he felt a cold sweat form on the back of his neck.

“Hey guys-” 

“Where’s (y/n)?” Maki pushed in first, side stepping Yuuta completely and bee-lining for (y/n’s) bedroom door, which had been shut since she’d been getting ready to go out with them.

Mai gave him a sympathetic smile, and he stepped aside to let her in.

“She’s a bit on edge, don’t worry about her,” She explained her sister’s antics, something she’d grown used to doing.  “But how are you doing?” 

The simple question didn’t hold it’s usual casual tone.  Mai looked genuinely curious to know his answer.  In fact, it looked like she was taking pity on him as her brows drew together in concern.

“Uh- fine.  I’m fine,” Yuuta stammered over his answer, and quickly made his way towards the kitchen, looking for something to busy himself with.  Getting interrogated by Maki and Mai was the last thing his nerves needed right now.

Even if Maki had already barged into (y/n’s) room and shut the door behind her with a slam.  He’d perked up at the ruckus, watching the door worriedly, but it remained shut, and he didn’t hear hollering from inside, so he figured all was fine between the two, and Maki was just up to her usual untamed behavior.  Mai chuckled to herself.

“Did you want a glass of water? Or something?” Yuuta asked, already filling a cup at the sink.

“Oh no, I’m alright,” Mai shook her head and took a seat at the kitchen table.  Her eyes scan over the messy stacks of books and the long extension cord that reaches across the whole room to keep his laptop alive while he works.  “You’ve been busy, hm?”

Yuuta chokes, whirling around, not realizing she’d been commenting on his mess at the table.  He instantly flushes, especially when Mai raises a brow and her lips curl into a smirk at his reaction.

“Oh- that- yeah,” He coughs to clear the hitch in his throat, hitting his fist to his chest a few times for good measure.  “I have an essay that’s due in a week” He explains quietly, certain that she didn’t actually care what he was working on.

Mai only nods, changing the subject before he could bore her with the specifics of the assignment.

“So, what’re your thoughts on the whole thing?” 

Yuuta blinks, unsure of what she was really asking.  Mai tilts her head at him, knowing he was a smart enough guy that he could figure it out on his own.

“I don’t know…” He sighs, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck.  “I don’t know what the right thing to do is…” 

Mai giggles cutely behind her fingers, as if she’d been watching two kittens playing with a ball of yarn, rather than watch a grown man struggle with the feelings he’d carried for years.  Feelings so strong everyone around him knew damn well where his heart lied.  It was a cruel laugh, but she couldn’t help it.  Yuuta could be so pitifully hilarious sometimes.

“Sorry,” Her apology is empty when he furrows his brow at her.  “It’s just… I owe Toge money for this, you know,” 

Yuuta’s gawking now, frozen and silent as he waits for further explanation.  Had everyone been in on something he hadn’t known about? Was this all some elaborate prank on him?

“I always thought you’d make the first move.  Guess Toge knew best this time” 

“Wait, you actually bet on- he bet against me?” Yuuta stammered.  Mai smiled sweetly.

“Everyone bet against you,” She told him.  “Well, everyone but me,” She corrected right away.  “Personally, I thought it’d be a whole love confession thing, you know? Like in the movies? I always thought you were the kind of guy that just wouldn’t be able to hold it in anymore.  After last night I was sure that if (y/n/n) had a little push it’d be enough for you to do something.  But it sounds like she initiated, no?” 

Yuuta’s head was spinning taking in all of this information at once.  Everyone knew? His closest friends, and they bet against him? His face felt hot with embarrassment, and just when he thought this whole thing couldn’t get worse, too.  Damn them all for being such a close knit group of friends that nothing was private anymore.

“I… I guess…” He answered the question quietly, unsurely.  Truthfully Yuuta wasn’t sure who exactly was at fault for the situation.  (y/n) might have brought up the subject, but he was the one who kissed first, wasn’t he? “So… she told you all of it?” He asked.

Mai smirked.

“Sorry, can’t break the girl code,” She says innocently.  Yuuta rolls his eyes.  Bullshit.  She just wanted to yank his chain.  “But you’re my friend too,” She reminds him.  “So I was just curious what you thought about all this” 

Their banter was cut short by (y/n’s) door swinging open, Maki’s voice carrying out into the hall as she exited, nodding for her sister to get up to head out.

(y/n) followed shortly after, a pair of heels in one hand, her other hand occupied trying to secure a bracelet on her wrist.  With her focus on awkwardly trying to maneuver the clasp with one free hand, Yuuta was given enough time to stare at her properly.

She’d spent a lot of time holed up in her room, supposedly getting ready, and now he could see just the amount of effort she’d put into doing so.  Her hair was done up, styled in perfect soft waves that bounced when she moved, and fell around her shoulders.  A simple but pretty dress hung from tiny straps at her shoulders and fell just above her knees.  It was her favorite color and one that complimented her very well.  Yuuta had been there when she’d found it and claimed it was an ‘impulse buy’, but she’d loved it thoroughly and had worn it regularly.  He stared in awe while she struggled with the jewelry and cursed under her breath.

It took him a minute to come back to reality, blinking quickly as if he needed to refocus, before approaching her with an outstretched hand and a small smile.  She understood what he was offering from the small action.  It wasn’t the first time she’d struggled to put on her own jewelry, and she’d often turned to him for help with the dainty clasps.

Sheepishly, (y/n) placed the charm bracelet in the palm of his hand, before holding her wrist out to him.  With how close she is he can smell the flowery perfume she’d just applied before coming out of her room.  It was sweet and pretty and he swore it flooded his senses like THC, lifting him right off the floor and into the clouds.

“Thank you” She murmurs.

She watches as he carefully lifts the jewelry from both ends, securing the claw clasp between his thumb and index finger gently.  A smile lifted at the corners of his lips as the little charms dangled off the silver chain, and he recognized the bracelet.

It was a gift from him.  For the first birthday she’d celebrated since moving in together.  It wasn’t the most extravagant thing, there were no jewels, the chain was made of silver rather than rose gold or something more expensive and romantic.  The charms were a mismatched set of stars and moons, some varying in color, but most of them the same silver as the chain they dangled from.  When he’d come across it, Yuuta thought he’d struck gold.  It had been the perfect gift.  He’d seen it in the window at a jewelry store he’d never looked at twice before, but somehow this little bracelet called to him and he was waltzing right inside and purchasing it at the counter not five minutes later.  

The clerk placed it in a little velvet box, which Yuuta took home and carefully wrapped a silky white ribbon around.  It had taken some practice to tie the bow just right, but he’d been very proud of his craftsmanship.  In the days leading up to her birthday, he was sure he was going to ruin the surprise, he was so giddy with excitement.

Then when the day came, and they were all out with their friends for dinner, he was a wreck.  Everyone else’s gifts were so different from his.  Maki had given her a nice leather jacket, Mai had given her a handle of her favorite rum, and Toge had given her a new game for their switch.  When all that was left was the small gift bag holding Yuuta’s gift, he was chugging his drink as she reached into it with a grin.

The table went silent when she pulled out a tell-tale velvet box, a perfect silk bow tied around it.  Yuuta avoided her gaze when her wide eyes turned to him.  He’d missed the way her cheeks had warmed up, too embarrassed by the stares from the rest of their friends.  ‘Jewelry?’ she’d asked sweetly, before carefully untying the ribbon and propping open the box.  She’d gasped, setting the box down carefully before lifting the bracelet from it, admiring each mismatched charm dangling from it.

Her eyes lit up as she turned to him, holding it out for him with one hand, the other wrist on display as she bounced in her seat, prompting him to put it on her.  That was the first of many times Yuuta had clasped the gift carefully around her wrist.  Conversation between the twins and Toge picked up again as the pair shared a sweet, private moment.  Yuuta wasn’t sure why it was so intimate to do such a simple favor for his friend, but his skin burned where it grazed hers as he adjusted the new jewelry for her.

‘It’s beautiful,’ She’d whispered softly, her eyes fond as they gazed into his.  ‘I love it so much, thank you, Yuuta’.

As he hooked the claw through the usual hoop she always wore it at, the perfect length to keep it secure on her wrist but still let the little stars loosely dangle, Yuuta couldn’t help but think about that first time he’d put it on for her.

“There,” He hummed when it hung perfectly around her wrist.  “You’re all set now” 

His eyes lingered on the bracelet and it’s meaning that he’d never quite worked up the courage to tell her about, before flickering to meet her soft expression.  There was something in her eyes that told him she was trying to say something, but she didn’t budge on it.  Her lips curved into a small smile as she nodded at him in gratitude.

“So we’re ready?” Maki cleared her throat, drawing both of their attention over to where she had her arms crossed and a brow raised.  

(y/n) was quick to shuffle away from Yuuta, sliding on her heels and making sure the straps were adjusted just right at her ankles before giving Maki a wide smile.

“Ready!” 

She leaves with a wave and a sweet call of good luck on finishing his essay.  Yuuta lingers at the door, even long after the three have left for the night.  The creeping feeling that he’s an idiot plaguing his mind again.

It wasn’t like he could tell her not to go, that wasn’t fair.  It also didn’t seem right to tag along, he wasn’t a total moron after all, he knew that she needed some space tonight with her girlfriends to collect herself and get over what happened between them.

But god, he just hoped she wasn’t going to get over it by finding someone else to distract her from it. ___

Rather than go to the usual bar that the group would spend free evenings at, Maki and Mai had promised an all new experience for the night.  Mai talked up the place animatedly, all bright eyes and movements of her perfectly manicured hands, while Maki drove and chastised her sister for being such an annoying passenger.

The longer (y/n) spent around them, the more her nerves began to settle and she finally gave in to the excitement of going out for the night.  It had been a while since they’d done something just the three of them.  Girl time was hard to come by, and often only happened in their groupchat.  Toge and Yuuta had a way of wiggling into their plans, not that they really complained about it.  It was nice to have a close and comfortable group of friends.

But right now, (y/n) needed two things.  One, time with her favorite twins that always scored free drinks wherever they went.  And two, the free drinks that the pair were currently scoring as they chatted up the bartender.  

(y/n) watched in amusement as Maki slid her glasses onto the top of her head pulling her hair away from her pretty face, and Mai leaned over the bar on her elbows, her low cut top doing all the work for her even while she undoubtedly flirted with the tattooed man behind the bar.  The high top table (y/n) sat at with all of their purses- it wasn’t like the Zen’ins needed their wallets- was far enough away that she couldn’t hear the conversation happening, but she recognized the sweet, alluring smile on Mai’s red painted lips.  It was a flirty look, and held absolutely no bite behind the bark.  It was just a well rehearsed dance, and she knew exactly how to use it to get what she wanted.

Admittedly, it had even worked on (y/n) a few times.  So she knew that no man was strong enough to withstand it’s power.

Sure enough, the girls were already headed back to the table with three drinks between them, and proud grins on their faces as they snickered between themselves.

“Did a phone number come with these?” (y/n) teased as Maki handed her the extra cocktail.  She thanked her with a bright smile, admiring the swirls of color in the drink before she stirred it up.

“Sure did,” Mai says, flashing the napkin between her fingers, the scrawl of numbers in purple ink spread across one side.  “I think I might call this one too” She adds excitedly.

Maki and (y/n) share a laugh before the three of them raise their glasses, clinking them together gently.

A few drinks passed and (y/n) had almost forgotten why she’d even wanted to go out tonight.  It was so nice to hang out with the Zen’in twins.  There was always plenty to gossip about, and especially in a setting like this one, there was only more fuel for their fire.

While Mai went back to order their fourth round, and flirt with the bartender some more, Maki dragged (y/n) out to the dance floor.  She knew her well enough to know that three drinks was just the right amount to loosen her up and get her out there without much protest.  And just as she thought, (y/n) eagerly followed, hips already swaying to the familiar beat.

“You feelin’ better?” Maki asked, leaning in close enough so she didn’t have to yell as much over the music.  Close enough that (y/n) could smell the familiar perfume she’d been wearing since they were in high school.

“I am,” She beamed up at her friend while they danced.  “Thank you for taking me out, this is just what I needed” 

Maki smiled back at her, relieved to have helped.  Even if it was only for a few hours, she knew that this distraction was necessary to clear her mind.

(y/n) and Yuuta had been dancing the dance of friends that hadn’t realized they were infatuated with each other for so long that Maki genuinely couldn’t remember a time when their romantic tension wasn’t all consuming.  When they’d decided to move in together, she’d known it was only a matter of time before something changed between them.  They all knew, hence the bet with Mai and Toge, that living in close quarters would create a rift at some point.

It sounded like that rift was more of a dive head first into unexplored territory, and (y/n’s) panic text last night that only read ‘s.o.s yuuta and i almost hooked up and i think i’m gonna have a panic attack’ was far more than anything she could expected to happen, but it was amusing nonetheless.

And Maki loved her friends.  She loved them so much she was happy to take her out for drinks and dancing in order to relieve some of the awkward tension at home.  But her friends were morons, and when this was resolved, she planned to never let them live it down.

Because there was no doubt in her mind that Yuuta loved (y/n) with every fiber of his being.  No doubt at all that (y/n) felt just the same for him.  She’d been following him around with stars in her eyes since they were children.  And Yuuta had never treated anyone the way he treated (y/n)- like she hung the moon and stars, like his entire world revolved around her.  

They could be in a crowded room with blasting music and hollering voices, and if (y/n) was speaking, Yuuta was listening to every word with his undivided attention.  Maki had seen it, on multiple occasions.

Six drinks and two free rounds of shots from the bartender that had a crush on Mai later, and Maki was struggling to herd her sister and her friend outside and towards the car.

It was very late into the night, and even for a Friday night Maki was ready to crash and get a full night of sleep.  She should have known to start the process of leaving an hour early, because since suggesting they square up their minimal tab and heading out, an hour is how long it had taken to get the two remotely close to the door.

Mai was insistent on staying until the place closes- which wasn’t for another three hours- but Maki refused to ditch her sister at a bar at one in the morning with a guy she just met.  Free drinks or not, that crossed girl and sister code for her.

(y/n) was a different story.  Three-drink (y/n) loosened up enough to dance a bit and mingle just a little.  Six-drink-and-two-shots (y/n) was making best friends out of everyone she ran into, whether they wanted to chat or not, she found a reason to hold their attention.  One girl had cute boots, some other guy was wearing a tee shirt of a band she’d heard of- not even liked, just heard of- and now she was off again talking to someone near the bathrooms.

“She said she was gonna pee!” Maki barked, and Mai lazily turned her attention towards where Maki was glaring.  “Come on, let’s go get her.  Again” 

Knowing better than to trust Mai to follow, Maki snatches her by the wrist and drags her across the bar with her.  Mai finds this amusing and a bit ridiculous, but doesn’t fight with her.

As they grow nearer and can see (y/n’s) animated talking, they also get a better look at who it was that had stolen her attention.

“Hey wait a sec,” Mai stops in her tracks, pulling her arm out of Maki’s grip only to grab her shoulder and maneuver her body until she could follow her exact line of sight.  “Is that…?” The name doesn’t come off her tongue, but it doesn’t need to.  Maki recognizes the man she’s speaking too instantly.

And she glowers, before speeding off towards the pair at a faster, more determined rate.  This time she knows Mai will be hot on her tail.

“Naoya!” 

(y/n) and the stranger she’d been talking to both perk up.  Recognition flashes in both of them as they see the Zen’in twins stampeding towards them.  (y/n) beams, delighted to see her friends.  The handsome stranger she’d been conversing with wears a smug look as he smirks at his cousins.

“We’re leaving,” Maki said, putting herself between (y/n) and her distant cousin, staring down at her friend with a grave expression.  “Let’s go-” 

“I didn’t pee” (y/n) pouts up at her, too out of it to notice the hostility between her friend and the man she’d just met.  Maki huffs, narrowing her eyes at her as though to ask ‘really?’.  (y/n) bats her eyes up at her.

“I was just keeping (y/n) here company while she waited,” Naoya speaks up.

The Zen’in twins both spun around to glare at him as he spoke.  If (y/n) hadn’t been inebriated she may have recognized the icy stares that she’d seen many people cower away from before.  Eerily enough when directed at him, he stared back at them with his chin tilted out and a smirk on his face.

“I’m happy to wait with her if you both have somewhere to be?” He suggested.

“As if” 

“Eat shit” 

Mai and Maki spoke in unison, both of their comments jarring (y/n), who was now shielded behind them like a small child.  Naoya lifted his hands in mock surrender, and took a step away from the wall.

He caught eyes with (y/n), confused, naive, drunk (y/n), who tilted her head as he waved goodbye to her.  She weakly raised a hand to return the gesture.  Maki glared between them both as she followed the interaction.

“You’ve got my number,” He grins, his eyes staying locked on hers even while Maki and Mai’s were so sharp he could almost feel them piercing his skin.  “If you change your mind on getting over that roommate” 

Mai’s jaw dropped open as she whirled around to (y/n), a look in her eyes that was somewhere between excitement and bewilderment.  Maki snarled at the man until he finally turned around and left.  It wasn’t until then that she ushered (y/n) into the bathroom, where there was no line to begin with, as it was completely empty inside.

The loud music and crowd at the bar muffled out once they were alone in there, and (y/n) was quick to scurry into a stall.

“Fucking ridiculous,” Maki cursed under her breath, while Mai pulled herself onto the counter of sinks, swinging her feet as she laughed to herself.  “If he tries to talk to her again, I’m punching him in the goddamn teeth” 

“That guy?” (y/n) called from the stall, only to go ignored by the sisters on the outside.

“Like when we were kids?” Mai mused, a smirk curling on her lips as she recalled the distant memory.

“No,” Maki shook her head, before a slow smirk of her own formed.  “That was his nose” 

They shared a laugh, even while (y/n) continued to ask who and what they were talking about.  Naoya was a face they’d hoped they’d never have to see again, but certainly had no issue breaking if it came to it.  And knowing him, things would likely come to that.  Since birth he’d been an asshole, it seemed.  Something about being a trust fund baby and a narcissistic manipulator seemed to bring out the worst in him.

(y/n) comes out of the stall with a childish frown as she drags her feet to the sink.

“We’re talking about Naoya,” Mai says, leaning back into the mirror to speak to (y/n) while she washes her hands.  “He’s our cousin” 

“That guy out there?” (y/n) mumbles, her brows furrowing as she focuses intently on soaping up her hands.  “He’s your cousin?” 

Mai nods.

“And he’s the fucking worst,” Maki pipes up with a bark in her tone that has (y/n’s) eyes snapping to her reflection in the mirror.  Sure enough, Maki was giving her a pointed glare.  “Stay away from him (y/n), he’s a piece of shit” 

With wide eyes and her lips pressed together, (y/n) nods back at her in a small movement.

She hadn’t spoken to him too much.  He’d approached her while she was lingering at the wall trying to get her texts to go through.  She vaguely recalled him saying something about a pretty girl being alone, but she hadn’t given him much of her attention, too drunk and annoyed with her phone for not working to care.

But one thing led to another and she was complaining to him about not getting in touch with her hot roommate that she’d made things complicated with, and after he showed her how to send the message as a text rather than an imessage, he’d prodded her into telling him more about this situation-ship as he’d called it, and next thing she knew, she was talking on and on about Yuuta.

And (y/n) may have been a bit drunk, but she wasn’t oblivious.  She caught the way he told her he’d help her get her mind off of things, she noticed the smirk on his lips and the darkness in his eyes as they swept her figure.  But she didn’t care about his intentions.  She just needed to vent, to an impartial- partially impartial- party that wouldn’t tell her what everyone else was telling her.

So honestly, (y/n) had no problem ignoring the new number in her contacts.  She wasn’t looking to hook up with Naoya.  But his company was appreciated while it lasted, even if he did only stick around her in the hopes of getting laid.

“She’s not interested in him like that,” Mai tells her sister, before her eyes flit over to (y/n) as she dries her hands.  “Are you?” 

(y/n) merely shakes her head, and tosses the paper towel in the bin.

“Thought so,” Mai smirked.  “You’re still hung up on Yuu-ta~” She singsongs his name with girlish charm, and Maki cracks a small laugh, relieved to know that she didn’t have to teach her asshole cousin a lesson to keep him away from her best friend.

“That much is obvious”

“Come on,” (y/n) sighs, pulling on Mai’s arm to get her off of the counter so they could finally leave the bar.  “Let’s go home so I can sleep this off and hopefully forget all of it” 

Mai slings her arm around her waist as they leave the bathroom, the noise of the busy place drowning out all else once more.  Even as the three of them push through the crowd, with Maki leading because her presence was strong enough to part a path in any crowd, (y/n’s) thoughts are messy.  It was probably all the drinks, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty for the situation she’d put herself in.

She feels Mai’s cheek on top of her head when they near the door, and Maki opens it for the two to go through first, then follow behind.  Sometimes (y/n) thinks her friendship with the twins had developed so much that she shares some of their special twin telepathy.  Because Mai squeezes her hip and nuzzles into her hair just as her thoughts begin to spiral the longer she thinks about going home.  Mai was always affectionate when she was drunk, and maybe she was riding on a high after her score with the sexy bartender, but (y/n) appreciated it nonetheless.  She even sat with her in the backseat of Maki’s car, falling half asleep on her while leaning up against one another.

“I’m so not carrying her if she passes out,” Maki half-chides as she glares at her barely conscious sister in the backseat.  “She can spend the night back there, I don’t care, I’m tired of carrying her ass around” 

(y/n) chuckles, and laughs a little louder as Mai stirs and mutters something along the lines of ‘m not fuckin’ tired back at her.

Somehow she doesn’t pass out on top of (y/n), although her weight is heavy against her, when Maki parks at (y/n’s) apartment complex, Mai sits right up and gets out of the car.  Her and (y/n) keep their arms wrapped around each other as they head inside.  Maki rolls her eyes and occasionally scolds them for being too slow, or stumbling around and bumping into things, but her voice is soft and her hands are gentle as she guides them to the door.

Just as (y/n) is slurring over her words trying- and failing- to explain that she doesn’t have her key, the door opens and Maki is pushing the two inside.

Mai disappears from (y/n’s) side almost instantly, suddenly craving a glass of water and one of the peaches on display in a porcelain bowl on the kitchen counter.

“Pretty much what you expected, yeah?” (y/n) hears Maki say, but she’s suddenly so tired that keeping her eyes open feels like a workout.  She doesn’t even have the energy to ask her what she’s talking about.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Someone replies.  A familiar voice that was deep but soft around the edges.  An instinctive smile forms on her lips.  “Thanks for driving, though.  And for… everything else” The voice grows quieter towards the end.

And then there’s a pair of hands on her shoulders, and (y/n) nearly collapses into the embrace.  She stumbles, catching her heel at an awkward angle and nearly sprains an ankle trying to correct her stance.  But the hands are faster, and stronger, and lift her by her hips before she could fall on the bent ankle or hurt herself at all.  She’s placed right back on the ground a moment later, but the hands remain.

“Yuuta~” She greets him once she finally realizes who it is that is keeping her upright.  It was an honest mistake, with her heavy eyes and alcohol flooded system, it was easy to confuse Yuuta’s strength for Maki’s.

Yuuta chuckles quietly at her delayed acknowledgement, his thumb caressing her hip in gentle circles.

“Let’s get you some water and into bed, hm?” He hums, tugging gently on her to get her to follow him.

(y/n) stumbles along without much hesitation at all.  She’s humming a tune that had been stuck in her head after she’d heard it at the bar, and Yuuta tries not to laugh at her inebriated state, but she does make it difficult.

When he opens the door to her bedroom, they realize why it had been shut.

Mai was face down in (y/n’s) pillows, passed out cold.  Her heels had been kicked off and unceremoniously thrown onto the rug, but that was as far as she got in settling in for bed.  She was still in her dress, all of her jewelry, and most definitely was staining (y/n’s) silky pillowcases with her makeup.

“Damn, that’s another pillowcase set she owes me” (y/n) mumbles with a huff, leaning defeatedly into her door frame.

“She’s done this before?” Yuuta’s brows furrow.

(y/n) looks over at him with a frustrated pout before nodding.  He winces, but their moment of shared exasperation is quickly clouded by how funny it was that such a thing had occurred twice and they hadn’t learned from it, and soon Yuuta was ushering them both out of the doorway and into the hall so they could let her sleep in peace.

“We’ll let her stay,” He says quietly, already guiding her to the other door.  His door, she realizes distantly.  “She clearly needs the rest, you can just stay in here, alright?”

He watches the delay in her realization as she turns to face him with a concerned look on her face.  Yuuta already knows what she’s going to say before the words form in her mouth.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” He eases her into the room with a gentle hand on her lower back.  Her expression is still unsure, but her feet move on their own accord further into the room.  “Get somethin’ to wear out of the dresser,” Yuuta instructs, knocking his knuckle against the drawer he kept his sleepwear in.  “I’ll go let Maki know she can stay with Mai if she wants” 

(y/n) gives him a small nod before he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.  

It felt odd being in his room, not because it was unfamiliar to her, she actually spent plenty of time lounging in his room with him, but it was odd being there without him.  Especially when she’d been asked to change, and into his clothes no less.  

Her movements were hesitant as she opened the drawer he’d pointed to.  The wood creaked out and put his clothes on their perfect, organized display.  She let out a small laugh through her nose at how crisp his tee shirts were folded, and similarly, the even rolls of sweatpants beside them.  It was almost ridiculous how perfect it all looked.  But she couldn’t be surprised.

It almost felt wrong to pluck out a tee shirt and pair of sweats and unfold them, but suddenly her wrinkled skirt and the straps that didn’t want to stay in place on her shoulders were enough of a bother for her to unzip the irritating material and let it drop to the floor.

Yuuta’s clothes smelled like him.  Which shouldn’t have been something that surprise her as much as it did, pausing as she tugged the tee shirt down, dipping her nose against the loose collar and inhaling the familiar scent of pine and the laundry detergent they shared, creating a fragrance that was so distinctly Yuuta she could recognize it in a second.

She tied the drawstrings of the sweatpants in a double knot to keep them from sliding back off her hips, and that was when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in” She called quietly, aware of the sleeping girl in the next room over.  Although a tornado couldn’t stir Mai from the drunken slumber she was in.

Yuuta opened the door slowly, trying to keep it from creaking, before he entered the room.

He tried not to stare, he really did, but he couldn’t help but smile at the way his clothes blanketed her, and just how cute she looked in them.  It wasn’t necessarily the first time she’s worn his clothes, there had been plenty of times where he’d lent her his jacket, or a spare tee shirt in high school when she’d spilled milk on her blouse, and those times had felt special too, but now felt… significant.

Seeing her wrapped up in his pajamas in his room while getting ready to go to sleep in his bed, Yuuta’s grinning at her while her face is going pink with embarrassment.

“Maki went home,” He cleared his throat, trying to remember the conversation he’d just had before he walked in here and had his mind wiped of all logical thought.  “She said she’ll pick Mai up in the morning” 

“Alright then,” (y/n) nodded in understanding.  “Oh, and can I borrow a-” 

“Your shoes are still on,” 

Yuuta’s voice is soft as he cuts her off, vaguely pointing to where her strappy heels poked out under the pool of fluffy cotton at her feet.  She looks down as though confused by the statement, but sure enough she realizes she hadn’t taken them off when she’d dropped her dress and stepped into the sweats.

She giggles to herself and lifts a leg, the excess fabric of his pants hanging off her ankle so she could be sure her heels were in fact still on her feet.

“Here,” Yuuta reaches out, guiding her to sit on the edge of his bed.  She follows, but just before she could lean over to undo the small buckles at her ankles, Yuuta was already kneeling to the ground before her.

(y/n’s) certain that her mistake from the night prior is the only reason that she feels a swell in her chest and an intimate tension settle in the air around them.  Because there’s no other reason she should feel her heart racing and her face going hot as he carefully unlatches the buckle of the left shoe and slides the strap out before pulling the shoe away and dropping it to the floor.  There’s no reason why she should feel butterflies fluttering around her tummy as he follows the same procedure for the right one.

But she does.  She feels her blush and the butterflies and the dryness in her throat as the tension sucks all of the oxygen right from her lungs.  And when he looks up at her with a sweet smile, surely happy to have helped, all of those feelings seem to be put under a magnifying glass.

“Better?” He asks with that damn smile.

Against her will, her mind wanders to how soft and warm that smile had felt when it was pressed against her mouth.  How firm and gentle and experienced his mouth felt when it kissed hers.  Her fingers dig into the plush comforter she sat on, trying to ground herself to reality, as far away from that memory as she could get.

She gives him a small nod.

“What did you want to borrow?” He asks as he stands, and her eyes follow his as he’s suddenly so easily towering over her.  She almost had no idea what he was talking about, and she’s quick to release her hold on the blanket.

“Right- um- could I borrow one of your blankets? Mai is on top of all of-” 

Yuuta’s chuckling makes her halt in her explanation, her brows barely pinching together in question at the reaction.

“You don’t need to sleep on the couch (y/n/n), you can stay in here, I already told you that,” 

She presses her lips together as she regards him, trying to find any source of discomfort or regret.  He seems to pick up on her evaluation, and he raises a brow as he chuckles at her.

The sound feels all too delighted, like he was amused by her hesitation.

“(y/n), it’s fine, you’re overthinking,” He tells her.  “I’ll get you a glass of water, m’kay? Just… get comfortable.  You’ve slept in here tons of times before” 

He leaves the room before she could say what they were both thinking.  Not like this.  She’d accidentally napped in here on a few occasions, waiting too long for him to be done studying, or when her bedding was in the wash and she had grown tired after a day of chores, she wasn’t a stranger to his bed.  But just as she wasn’t a stranger to his room, it still felt all too new right now.

Like if she moved too quickly she might break something intangible yet oh so fragile.

Nonetheless, she shuffles into the bed and under the covers, and her hazy mind begins to settle as soon as she rests her head on one of Yuuta’s feathery pillows.  She wonders if everything he surrounded himself with- his clothes, his blankets, his pillows- was comfortable because he valued comfort, or if it simply was because it was all his.  Because it was an extension of him.

But maybe she was still just a bit drunk and overthinking the fluffy warmth surrounding her.  Maybe he was right about that part.

She’d just been drifting off to sleep when the door opened again, and she peeks her eyes open as Yuuta brings a glass of water over to the bedside table she laid next to.

“Try to drink all that tonight, alright?” His voice is a hum, surrounded by softness, and comfort, and she’s reaching for that question in the back of her mind again, prodding at it until she’s a little less sleepy, her curiosity stirring her mind enough to keep it active.

“Alright,” She murmurs back, leaning up on her elbow as she reaches for the glass, delighted to see it was chilled with ice.  “Thank you” She adds before taking a few sips.  Her dry throat had gone unnoticed until the first touch of water to her tongue, and suddenly she’s drinking down half the glass.

The bed dips behind her as Yuuta settles in, sighing to himself quietly as he gets situated.  (y/n) quickly sets the glass back down, before turning over to face him.

In the dark room she vaguely makes out his silhouette, and she can’t tell if he’s looking at her or not, so maybe it’s what helped ease her nerves as she laid before him.

“Did you have a good night?” He breaks the silence first, but he keeps his voice quiet.

“Yeah, I guess so,” (y/n) mumbles back, her fingers finding a loose thread in his sheets.  “It was fun dancing with Maki and Mai…” She wraps the thread around the tip of her middle finger.

“You sound disappointed” Yuuta comments, hooking his arm under his pillow so he could get a slightly better read on her expression, but the shadows cast over her features are too dark for him to decipher.

But he can feel it when she shrugs one of her shoulders and hums in a way that sounds like I don’t know.

“It was alright, it was, I just…” She tries to explain it, but as she speaks the rest of the words just don’t come to mind.  It had been fine, it had been fun even, nothing wrong had happened, but it didn’t quite feel… “I think I just thought my tendency of drinking to forget was the right way to go, but I don’t think it worked, and I think I’m only going to feel worse,” 

It was word vomit through and through, an endless stream of thoughts flowing right out of her mouth before she could think twice about what she was saying or how it might make him feel.  But the cusp of the issue was right there and she was dying to understand the complicated knot of feelings swelling in her chest.

“I think I made a mistake,” She slows down as she says this, and Yuuta wishes she would’ve ripped off the bandaid, but at least she couldn’t see it when he frowned at her.  “But not- not for what you think, I don’t mean it… like that,” She stammers a bit as she tries to correct herself, the alcohol still in her system doing her no favors besides the minor boost in courage.  “But I… I don’t think I could handle it” She says in a small voice.

She’s quiet for a bit as she tightens the thread around her finger, barely able to make out the way it creases and dips into her skin.

“Well…” Yuuta sighs, struggling to find the right thing to say to her.  

What could he say? He could tell her the truth, unpack all of his feelings, his entire heart, right here, but at the end of the day wouldn’t that just make things more complicated? She wasn’t exactly sober, and if she didn’t feel remotely the same way then he dug himself a socially awkward grave that he’d just have to live in because damn it they split the rent.  He’s panicking, breaking into a cold sweat even under two blankets.

“It was just a kiss, yeah?” He repeats what she’d told him just last night.  But unlike the confident, smug way she’d phrased it, he sounds unsure, and maybe even frightened.

Her head moves, and he still can’t make out the direction of her gaze, but he can still feel her eyes on him.  He tries to focus his vision better, hoping to adjust to the darkness soon.

“If it was just a kiss I don’t think I would’ve felt compelled to go out and try to forget it happened,” (y/n) replies, her voice hushed, afraid of revealing too much.  “I’m just really sorry” 

Yuuta blinks a few times, as if that would help him figure out if he heard her right.

“You don’t have to apologize, (y/n),” He tells her, his voice taking on a more serious tone.  “You have nothing to be sorry for, you didn’t do anything wrong-” 

“I made things so weird and over- over some dumb advice from Maki- and I just can’t believe I managed to find a way to make our friendship weird because- because you mean a lot to me, you’re really my best friend, Yuuta” 

He can’t tell if his heart swells with love or bursts with the sting of rejection at the statement.

“You’re overthinking again,” He forces a light chuckle, before reaching out and gently wrapping his hand over hers.  “It’s not that weird, alright? Nothing could change… us… okay?” 

She doesn’t say anything, just sighs in disappointment while his thumb brushes over the back of her hand.

“You mean a lot to me too, you know that,” He tried to lighten the mood, but with barely seeing her face it was hard to tell how she was feeling.  “It was just a kiss, alright? Just a… really nice kiss” 

“A few really nice kisses,” She mutters under her breath, finally cracking a small laugh.  Yuuta beams back at her, unable to stop himself from giggling back at her.

It grows quiet between them after a few minutes, but this time it’s comfortable, and she feels her muscles untense as she sinks further into the mattress.

“I did complain about you, though” 

“Complain?” Yuuta pouted.  “To the Zen’ins? They’ll use that against me, you know” 

(y/n) giggles, knowing full well that if she’d told the twins one foul thing about Yuuta they’d grab him by the ankles and dangle him right off this apartment building until he apologized to her.  But she shakes her head at him.

“No, no not to them.  Some guy at the bar,” She explains.  “Their cousin, actually,” 

He racks his brain for a minute, trying to recall who this cousin is, but he can only think of Megumi, and everyone knew Megumi, so had she run into Megumi, she would’ve said so, wouldn’t she? But no, she said some guy.

“Got his number, too,” She adds, but she sounds defeated, like it wasn’t a victory to get a cute stranger’s number at a bar when she’d specifically gone out seeking a distraction.

Something odd twists in Yuuta’s gut.  The jealousy was distinct, but the pride in picking up on the fact that she hadn’t been interested in this mysterious Zen’in relative.

“Maki said he’s a dick, though,” She explained her lack of interest.  “But he was sure happy to put up with my troubles” 

Yuuta lets out a humorless laugh.  “Who wouldn’t listen to a pretty girl at a bar rant about her problems?” He asks, and he can’t quite see it but he knows she rolls her eyes at him.  “But since you got that number complaining about me, that makes me a wingman, right?” 

She snorts back at him.

“Not in the slightest” 

“No?” He frowns.  “Why not?” 

“For one, you weren’t there, you can’t be a wingman if you’re not present,” She explains, matter-of-factly.  “And for two, I don’t think telling a guy how annoying it is that my hot roommate has been walking around in a towel and getting in my head really is all that deserving of me getting a phone number.  I don’t think that booty-call was going to lead anywhere other than the bathroom stall” 

Yuuta crinkled his nose at the descriptive language, before backtracking and perking up at the other part.

“Did you say I’m hot?” 

Realization flashes in her eyes, and Yuuta thanks whatever deity is up there that he can finally make out her features in the dark room.  When she doesn’t immediately reply, his lips curl into a grin.

“You did!” He teases, and she yanks her hand out of his gentle hold, only for him to poke at her face playfully.  “You said-!” 

“Hush,” She shushes him with irritation.  “You’ll wake up Mai.  And- and that’s not a big deal.  You compliment me all the time” 

Her face is burning, and the smile that threatens to take over her face is beginning to win.

“Shut up, that’s totally different,” He murmurs, and moves closer to her when she tries to shrink away out of embarrassment.  “You called me your hot roommate.  And apparently you’re getting bothered over a towel? Is me being shirtless that upsetting?” 

“I’m not doing this with you right now-” 

“Oh no, come on, you have to now,” Yuuta pleads, his voice still that annoyingly sexy teasing tone.  (y/n) turns to push her face into her pillow, and he wiggles closer again, eager to hear what else she’d had on her mind.  “Come on, what else did you have to complain about?” 

“I complained that you’re annoying,” She whines, her voice muffled by the pillow.  Yuuta chuckles.  “And I complained about how you don’t know how much you…” She trails off, and her voice goes impossibly quieter.  “Bother me” She finishes in a mumble to the pillow.

He hears it perfectly clear.

His face feels hot, and there’s a familiar little tingle in his stomach.  But he smirks at her hiding form.

“Well what else, then?” He asks.

(y/n) rolls her head to the side, pressing her cheek back into the pillow as she looks over at him.

“What do you mean?” She asks.

“What else bothers you?” He clarifies his question.

She giggles as she shakes her head at him.

“No way” 

“Yes way,” Yuuta laughs back at her.  “Come on, tell me” 

“No!” She protests again in a hiss.  “Am I not embarrassed enough already? I’m taking this to my grave” 

“No you’re not,” Yuuta scoffs.  “Come on, you tell me everything, so, tell me” 

She supposed he had a point.  A dumb one, but a point nonetheless.  Clearly at some point or another she was bound to indulge him on this.  Even though she couldn’t explain it, she was always driven to share every part of herself with Yuuta.  Even when it was embarrassing.  Even when it was intimate.

(y/n) may have told the Zen’in twins about the rushing-out-of-the-shower thing, but that hadn’t meant there weren’t other instances where her mind crossed the platonic boundary between her revolving thoughts of Yuuta.  That was just the first occurrence she assumed they could understand.

She huffs.

“Sometimes you wear your tee shirts a size too small,” She mumbles.

Yuuta wants to tease her, maybe crack a joke, but he keeps his mouth shut as she gives in.  He didn’t want to miss a single word.  He had to pay close attention so he knew exactly how to get under her skin in all the right ways.  Hearing that she found him hot was one thing, he could pass it off as a joke or an empty compliment.  Hearing that there were specific things that he did that made her sexually frustrated? He couldn’t mess this up for himself.

“And when you drive me places, you do that thing with your arm when you back the car up” She adds.

“What do you mean?” He questions that one with a furrowed brow.

“You know,” She mumbles, weakly lifting her arm to demonstrate, bending it behind her head.  He shakes his head, not understanding in the slightest.  “You always grab the back of my seat and look over your shoulder,” She tries to put it into words.  “And then, it’s just, like-” The words fail her again as she continues the motion with her arm.  Yuuta thinks he gets what she’s trying to explain, but he has no idea that such a mundane action was a bother for her.

“That turns you on?” He tries not to laugh, but then (y/n’s) face goes red and she’s trying to deny it.

“I didn’t say that!” She squeaks out.  “I just, you know, forget that I’m not supposed to… thinkaboutyoulikethat” She rushes the confession out as fast as she can.

“I… think that’s pretty normal,” Yuuta admits quietly.  (y/n) blinks wide eyes at him, waiting for him to continue.  “And if anything, I’m flattered,” He adds with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah,” (y/n) huffs, before wiggling closer, pressing her forehead into his chest before sighing, sleepiness overcoming her.  “Not a word of this to anyone else” She mutters.

Yuuta mock whines as he wraps an arm around her back, tucking her closer against him.  He pretends not to notice when her nose nuzzles into his tee shirt, in the middle of his chest.  He pretends not to notice when her hand slips across his abdomen and over his waist.

“I think about you too,” He murmurs, resting his chin on top of her head.  Her fingers twitch on his hip, almost tickling him.  He tries not to wiggle, he doesn’t want her to think he’s uncomfortable.  “For the record” 

“You do?” She mumbles, half asleep already, but too curious about what he meant by that.

“Mhm” He hums, his hand trailing down her spine and then back up again, the gentle touch of his fingers warming her up, making her melt further into him.

“Like when?” She asks, and when he doesn’t reply right away, she lets out a sigh.  “Come on, I told you!” She whined.  “Now you have to tell me some embarrassing stuff, too” 

“Alright, that’s fair,” Yuuta agreed.  “I like when you wear that dress” He says.  (y/n) beams against his chest.

“That one?” She mumbles, weakly gesturing to the pool of fabric on his floor.  He nods back at her.

“Mhm,” He confirms quietly.  “I know it’s your favorite.  It should be” He smiles to himself.  (y/n) giggles quietly, the soft vibrations hitting his chest and warming his skin.

“Tell me more” She mumbles, the words barely audible.  Yuuta knows that she’s going to pass out soon.  Her breathing was beginning to slow, and her chest rose and fell in steady movements.  Surely he could leave this conversation as it is and she’d be fast asleep in a minute or two anyhow.

“Well,” He sighs out the word, as if he had to pick his own brain to come up with more examples, as if every little thing she did wasn’t enough to catch his eye on it’s own.  “Maybe things are a lil’ different now, hm?” He hums.

(y/n) doesn’t respond.  For a second, he thinks maybe she’s finally fallen asleep, but just as he contemplates checking, her head moves in a small nod.  A silent, barely-there admission.

“I like the way you kiss,” He says, and she can hear the smile in his voice, the cheeky but all-too shy little grin that she’s grown so accustomed to.  She gives him another giggle, a breathless little laugh that makes her shoulders shake and her nose press into the collar of his shirt.  “It’s true, I mean it,” Yuuta said, a quiet laugh escaping him as well.  Partially due to her laughter infecting him, partially out of the relief that maybe talking about what happened would help them both to not feel so weird about it now.  “You’re a good kisser, you should be proud.  I for one feel honored” 

He’s teasing, she knows that, but her face still feels warm as she keeps it tucked away in his chest, hoping that her heart wasn’t beating so rapidly that he could hear it in the quiet room.

“You’re a good kisser, too,” Her words are more slurred than before, Yuuta can practically hear her losing consciousness as she drifts off.  “Really good kisser” She adds under her breath.

And then her head feels a little heavier on his chest, and Yuuta doesn’t have to check to know she’s asleep in his arms.  He’s exhausted and he knows he should close his eyes and try to sleep, too.  But it feels too nice to hold her close, so he hangs onto consciousness for as long as he can.

Before his body’s tiredness finally takes over, he brushes his lips over the crown of her head, and settles into his pillow with his arms securely wrapped around her, making sure that she stays close while he sleeps.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[vervainandspritz]

DANCE WITH ME, SHELBY

Word count: 2,4k

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, Tommy is a silly goose, blood, injury

INTERACT WITH THE STORY PLEASE

***

How could it get that bad? That one sentence filled his head to the brim, causing a hellish headache. Staring at the ceiling in the small room in the back of the building, just a wall separating the frustrated man from the chaos in the Garrison. Blue eyes, usually sharp and focused, now glancing all around, internally looking for that one moment where he pushed her too far.

A race of thoughts caused an annoying gnawing at his insides, going back to all the situations he could have used to… speak up, but he didn't. His foolish ego wouldn't let him live that down.

The music was so loud he could hardly analyse, but he successfully brought in the sight of Y/N dancing in a Peaky boys’ arms.

If only he didn't ruin it back then, Thomas groaned. Running a hand through his hair, he set the cap on a table before returning to the main room.

Straightening his back and looking around, Tommy noticed his brothers dancing between all the drunk people, cheering happily and laughing obnoxiously, just like they always did when there was a reason to celebrate.

The Garrison wasn’t normally a place for song and dance, but after the victory at the races, Thomas made an exception for his men.

Winning races was a big thing in Birmingham, no matter whether the races were fixed or not. Nobody would dare to ask anyway.

Among other people sitting by the bar, he spotted her. The woman so unforgettable, that there wouldn't be a day when he wouldn't think of her.

The sound of the door slamming shut went unnoticed by the loud crowd as he made his way to the bar. Several chairs away from Y/n Thomas took his seat, letting out a quiet sigh as he grabbed the bottle of whiskey that Harry instinctively set on the counter in front of him. Pouring a generous amount he nodded towards Y/n, and the bartender immediately got the right idea, pouring her a glass as well.

Tommy planned on watching her reaction closely, but to his surprise she knocked it back without missing a beat, making him raise his eyebrows.

Harry nodded proudly seeing the same scene unfold, before turning around and serving other people.

Usually at least a couple of guests would line up to him by then, but Thomas’ horrendous mood was hanging in the air like a thundercloud, warning off anyone who would think of coming around. Taking advantage of the relative solitude he let his mind spiral down the familiar way.. again.

~~

“What happened!” Polly gasped, slamming the door shut behind her, seeing Thomas and Y/n make their way through the small living room. Blood dripped from the boy's nose, bloodying the already dirty carpet.

“I'll explain, I promise!” Y/N yelled from the bathroom before another slam of the door could be heard. Sitting him on the stool, Y/n tried to breathe steadily just to not start sobbing again. Her knees burned like hell, but she couldn't live down the way Tommy's face looked.

“I'm sorry” she said, shaking her head while reaching for a towel, and dipping it into the small amount of alcohol she had. Her hands were shaking, and so was her voice.

“Y/n” he said, but when she didn't react, his hand grasped her smaller one, holding it for a moment until she looked into his eyes. “It's okay, nothing big happened.” He tried to convince, smiling in a silly way despite his bloodied nose and a black eye. “C’mere” Tommy added after she shook her head, pulling her in for a tight hug. “It's okay, I'm fine, I promise. I didn't want them to hurt you, and I succeeded, like a man, yeah?” His voice soothed her slowly, just like his hand rubbing up and down her back. After a long minute she pulled back, nodding lightly as she held his head, cleaning up the cuts.

Tommy didn't say a word for another few minutes, just watching her face as she worked her magic until her cheeks turned bright pink. Clearing his throat, he finally spoke up.

“I'll be ugly for a while now.” Was enough to make her chuckle, and like always, Tommy's laugh followed right after.

“Thank you,” she said. “For saving me and… and being so fearless.” Y/n added shyly, not used to them saying all these nice things to each other.

Thomas shook his head with a breathless chuckle, before looking down.

“I wasn't fearless,” he confessed, making her raise her eyebrows in surprise. “After all, have you seen them? And me? I'm… short.” He chuckled and she immediately followed. “But I couldn't let them hurt you, no matter what.”

“You're not short! You're taller than me!” she argued with her cheeks all red.

“You're a girl, Y/N.” He pointed out, grabbing her hips as she started giggling some more, the gauze on his face shaking along with her arm. A comfortable silence fell between them for a couple moments, before he got up, standing right in front of her.

Taking a deep breath, Thomas ran a hand through his hair.

“Will you kiss me for bravery or am I too ugly for it now?” he asked, trying to appear even more confident with a smile still plastered onto his face, ready for a rejection… that never happened. Y/n nodded at him with a smile as she reached for his cheeks, standing on her tiptoes and pressing her lips against his in a sweet kiss.

“Take me on a date. To the cinema. Tomorrow.” She decided as soon as they parted, looking at him with big, round eyes and Tommy couldn't help but nod, with his face completely red.

“Okay”

~~

After another two glasses sent her way, Thomas chuckled under his breath, eyeing the glass in his hand, when suddenly another hand pulled it out of his grasp. As fast as it disappeared, a feminine hand slammed an empty glass on the counter.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Shelby?” Y/N asked, coming into his view as she leaned on the counter, eyeing him with a serious expression.

“You were drunk before I stepped foot into the Garrison, eh?” he replied, turning around and facing her fully.

“Hardly” she said, tilting her head to the side as she noticed his hardened expression. “What's got you so down, boss? I thought we're celebrating tonight.” Y/N asked half seriously, gesturing to Harry for another bottle.

“Business as always” he responded, lighting a cigarette and offering her one. She only shook her head, leaning forward and pulling the cigarette out of his lips instead. Tommy kept looking at her, not caring enough to light another one. Just drinking in the sight of her eyeing him like that.

Only after a moment he looked away, glancing into the crowd with a barely audible sigh. Y/n knew him long enough to be able to tell how troubled he was feeling at the moment.

“Come on, Shelby.” She said, swiftly slipping off the counter and grabbing his hand. “You're gonna dance with me” Tommy immediately started shaking his head but didn't let go of her hand even for a moment.

“I don't dance, Love.” He replied in a hoarse voice, but Y/n wouldn't take a “no” for an answer when it came to dancing. Tommy somewhat reluctantly stood and let Y/N lead him to the dancefloor. The music was an energetic tempo leaving little to no space on the dancefloor between dancing, drunk people. Y/n led him through the crowd right into the middle of chaos, to ensure he wouldn't leave at any given moment.

By the time they weaved through the crowd, the celebratory song ended and the musicians played a sweeter slow song.

Hearing it, Tommy looked at her with eyebrows raised, making her giggle.

“Too late to change your mind now. Embrace me, Shelby.” She said sternly, in a joking manner.

Thomas didn't need much more convincing, the thought of getting to hold her was enough of an incentive. Stepping forward, Tommy pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her hip, keeping some distance between them for her comfort. She, however, closed the distance between them. Their bodies pressed together, moving in the rhythm. It came much more naturally than either of them would expect. As the music got more sensual, their senses became sharper. His big calloused hands kept her in a firm hold, leading her through the dance just right. Tommy felt suddenly a little more drunk than ever, taking in consideration that he had just two glasses of whiskey. The scent of her skin, her hair, the sweet flowery notes clinging to her skin made him want to get even closer. Closer than physically possible. Forget the alcohol, it was her he was truly intoxicated by.

Y/n could feel how heavy his breathing got, as he slowly let go of her hand, both hands wrapping around her hips and keeping her close. She leaned forward, both hands on Tommy's chest which made her feel even more… dizzy. His heart was beating even harder than hers. That was until he stepped forward again, and her face almost settled in his neck. The best part of the song came on, and the tension between them was palpable. Their breaths grew shallow and Thomas felt like he might explode if she didn't look him in the eyes just then.

Pulling back, he leaned down causing his nose to brush against hers, and as soon as Tommy's warm breath touched her lips, the song suddenly ended.

So did the moment, because Y/N immediately sobered, taking a step back and letting go of his touch.

Thomas could see the slightly panicked look in her eyes.

“Y/N” he started out, shaking his head lightly but she took another step back.

“Thanks for the dance, Shelby.” She replied, before turning around and pushing her way through the crowd towards the exit.

“Bloody hell” He hissed under his breath, trying to follow her as quickly as possible. It took him a longer moment, but Thomas finally burst through the door, immediately looking around and finding Y/N walking towards Small Heath.

“Y/N!” He yelled, going after her. For some reason it felt like an important moment which Tommy couldn't afford to fuck up. “Y/N, wait!”

Y/N kept walking, not paying attention to his shouting. Had he taken it too far with their almost kiss? She had kept drawing nearer to him throughout the dance, because the pull was impossibly strong, yet she couldn't bring herself to move past… that.

“Y/N!” He yelled, being mere metres away before finally a strong hand grasped her shoulder, making her turn around. He prepared a few words to say, but all of them disappeared from his head as soon as he saw her teary eyes.

“Why? Why didn't you come back then? I waited for you, Tommy, and you didn't show up.” She immediately said in a vulnerable voice, unable to keep it in any longer. “I was preparing for three hours to look pretty for you!” She was taking short breaks to sniffle quietly, and he tried to find words, but as always in such situations, it was difficult. Y/N had held onto the heartbreak of being stood up by him for years. The only man she could never hold at arm's length, making her feel so foolish. As he tried to stutter out an explanation, “and… and I..” Y/n started out, but got suddenly cut off by his voice.

“He took my fucking money!” He hissed out, pacing back and forth. Sighing deeply, he ran a hand through his hair while Y/N got… confused.

“What? Who?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed. Only then did he stop right in front of her.

“Finn” He replied, looking into her eyes with his own eyes wide. “Back then… fuck, I was saving for that moment, alright? Times were fucking tough and… and I wanted to go!” He said loudly, rubbing the side of his jaw with frustration. “But this little bastard didn't leave me a single fucking penny! Took all the money and I couldn't show up in my old, worn down clothes and then… not take you anywhere! Not YOU, Y/N! Fuck!” He gave up on trying to talk calmly, the old frustration and annoyance coming back to the surface. “..and then, then you left Birmingham for a while, and i had no fucking clue how to come back from what happened. What to do or say. I was… I was ashamed.”

Y/N remained silent for what felt like eternity which was probably less than a minute. Thomas sighed deeply, bracing for harsh words as he came up, grabbing her chin and tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

“I'm sorry, Love.” He added, when suddenly… she burst out giggling, making him cock an eyebrow in surprise. Only then did she manage to reply between the sniffles and giggles.

“You're an incredibly silly man for a gang leader, Thomas.” She started out, and then.. he knew it would be okay. “If you came wearing a bloody potato sack and wanted to sit under a tree and talk, I would be the happiest girl in the fucking world!” She exclaimed loudly, pushing him lightly. “I never cared about what you wore or where we went, bloody hell, I was following you everywhere! Because I wanted to be around YOU, and that's all that mattered, Tommy.” Her hand covered his much bigger one, eyes becoming more shiny as she spotted the little grin on his face.

“I panicked. I can't explain how sorry I am, Love.” He added, his hand caressing her cheek while his softened gaze remained on her eyes. “I thought about you every single day. Not a thing ever changed for me.” He confessed with a heavy heart.

Y/n became quiet for a moment again before her fingers grazed his reddened, cold cheek.

“You look like you've seen a ghost.” She eventually said, making him chuckle as she pushed his hair away from his eyes.

Thomas took a final step forward, his face mere inches away from her own.

“Well… am I too ugly for a kiss then?”

“Shut up, Shelby.” She sneered, pulling him into a deep but sweet kiss. One she waited for so long, too long.

[untoldstar]

male yandere! streamer x gn! fan reader

feeding your parasocial relationships🫶

was tempted to make him a username called masonjar but whateves let’s just stick to a classic name.

got inspired by the post I saw by @blood-smiles !

warnings: parasocial relationship (kinda from both sides) jealousy, yandere themes, obsessive behavior.

Mason was an insanely popular streamer the type to have both guys and girls fawning over him, edits of him with people thirsting over his good looks but despite the sheer amount of fans he had, you took the liberty of naming yourself his biggest fan.

somehow you ended up being noticed by him, it started with him noticing you in his streams and comments and then seeing you in every single one of his meet-and-greets. Always wearing his merchandise, your account only had a select few pictures of yourself that drowned in all the posts that centered around him. He couldn't help getting curious, you were just so loyal and obsessed with him that he thought it was adorable.

he started chatting with you, the way you freaked out when he messaged you was so cute, he had a grin stretched on his face the entire time. Because of his active interaction with you you became known to his other fans and gained popularity.

he was having thought of meeting up with you frequently, maybe even a few collabs..this could be a big break for both of you!

but as time went by it seemed like you were just...moving on.

you didn't interact with his socials as much anymore, missed more streams than the ones you watched, even your content started to stray further away from him. You either didn't post as much or you were posting about other low-stream influencers who didn't even compare to him. He was popular, good looking, and skilled. Everyone on the internet loved him and you were lucky enough to get noticed by him and you're just throwing it away?!

he knows it's silly and that he shouldn't care but you were his loyal fan..did it mean nothing?!

truly you were moving on, Mason has a special spot in your heart but your interests were changing. It was a habit of yours where you get obsessively hyper-fixated on something or someone and then hop on to the next thing.

you didn't do anything wrong you honestly thought Mason forgot your existence but the spam messages that filled up your inbox later proved that that is far from the truth.

Mason: so what you just got bored of me huh?

Mason: you were drooling over me just two weeks ago and now you're over here praising someone else?!

Mason: answer me

Mason: why aren't you answering me?!

Mason: are you too busy obsessing over a new guy to even send a text back?

his jaw clenches and his hand shakes from the tight grip he has on his phone as he almost burns a hole into the damn thing from staring at the screen so hard while waiting for you to see your messages.

he gets fed up and sets his phone down and put on his headphones getting ready to start the stream.

he acts normal in front of the camera but his eyes keep sliding down to the comments trying to find you there. He tries to mask it by reading and replying to other people's comments even though he doesn't truly care.

he only wants your eyes to watch him.

your praise.

your devotion.

surely you'll come back to him..won't you?

[denileisariver]

pairing: batman aka bruce wayne x f!reader

summary: you move into wayne manor, but not everything is as it seems. pt.2

warnings: smut, some non-con/dub-con but not really, doggystyle!, creampies ♡, mentioned babytrapper!bruce but nothing happens (or does it 🫣?), some anal play but also not really, unprotected sex, descriptions of male and female genitalia, bruce is not the best father unfortunately, age gaps, uses of the word(s) 'baby' and 'daddy' like once or twice, non-consensual recording?, reader is described as dating girls in the past.

a/n: i guess this is a small continuation. i'll still be tagging as yandere due to some slightly darker undertones kinda. i'm not sure how i feel about this one but oh well :).

bruce never believed that he was a good man.

he could care less for all the praise he received throughout the years. fundraisers and charities, his image as a loving adoptive dad who took in struggling and orphaned children, or as batman. deep down, he knew he was selfish.

everything he did, he took too far. whether it was to fulfill a pipedream he realistically knew would never come true at the expense of others. or even with love, using the people he cared for the most just so he could gain something out of it. he considered himself lucky that all the little vigilantes he collected over the years stayed. and he was even happier you decided to stay as well.

bruce knew fear like the back of his hand. he could easily recognize it in your eyes whenever your eyes met his. whether it was subconscious or not, something in you knew that you should be cautious around him, and for good reason.

he couldn't quite pinpoint when his infatuation with you started. the only thing he knew was that it had crept up on him slowly, and it had been far too late until he realized its claws were sunk deep and he wanted you wrapped around his finger.

his mind would drift off sometimes, wondering if it's because of how closely he's been able to keep tabs on you over the past couple of years. you were strong and independent, more than able to take care of yourself, and others if given the opportunity. he admired that you were bold and selfless, driven. and he wanted to control that.

he stood by on the sidelines for far too long, watching you be strung along like an afterthought. he hated seeing your pathetic dates that always turned out horribly, pitiful men who only wanted one thing from you and girls that led you on because they were 'experimenting'. he hated the sad puppy look in your eyes whenever you hung around dick, before he invited you into his family, even if it was unintentional.

whether you believed it or not, bruce truly wanted what he thought was best for you. and if that meant keeping you under his surveillance, where you were at arms length 24/7, then so be it.

bruce wanted to train you how to be obedient for him. you were already establishing your own place in his household, practically marking your territory there, and he enjoyed every bit of it. for the most part, at least. there were still some challenges he needed to overcome, but you'd always been a good girl for him. that much he knew.

you tried to be grateful for him as much as possible.

even after his creepy behavior and even weirder training, you wanted to trust him. it felt wrong not to. everyone had been kind and did more for you than anyone else in your life had, and bruce set the foundation for all of it. you'd finally got a taste of being part of his family like you always wanted, and you weren't willing to let it go just because of eccentric assumptions and silly feelings.

you did find all of it a bit extreme, though. the excessive amount of gifts, the kids were attentive as ever, and alfred practically babied you. but it was normal. completely normal. at least that's what you chalked it up to, living under the roof of a well renowned billionaire, and you weren't about to complain about it either.

being around all the other wards put you at ease. regardless if you truly saw them as found family or not, you considered them your best friends. whether it was helping alfred around the manor as much as possible, burning pastries in the kitchen with the girls, playing video games with jason (which grew to be one of your favorite pastimes), you found yourself letting your guard down. like you could finally breathe and be safe in your own home, which was basically never while you were still surviving on your own back in gotham.

speaking of jason, you think maybe you are beginning to like the boy. sure, he had always been attractive, but you never actually got to interact with him longer than a short conversation here and there before dick decided to butt in. he had always been protective of you like that. you figured whatever you felt for jason might've been weird at first, but considering tim and stephanie dated for a little while, and they were still here, that it was okay.

you tried to subtly spend more time around jason. sitting close by during dinner or while catching a flick, offering to be by his side during patrol. maybe you were a bit more obvious than you would've liked, but jason took it well, much to bruce's disdain. the boy started to talk to you more often, more lively around you than ever, staring at you from across the room, making physical contact. and you greedily accepted it.

and of course dick would be the first to pester at you about it. he'd snuck up from behind, startling you when you were too engrossed in a romance book that you'd discovered while exploring the ginormous library.

"so you and jason are a thing now?"

the sound of his sudden voice makes your body jolt, damn near dropping the precious book you were reading that probably cost more than your entire life. the only people in this world that could make you flustered the way you are now are all living underneath the same goddamn roof, and you've successfully trapped yourself in it, willingly.

"what're you talking about?" the blank look on dick's face makes you cringe. in all your years of friendship, the two of you never really fought. the thought that he'd be mad about you being with jason was almost enough to make your heart sink. but the truth was, you weren't really actually with him anyway. things were just.. different.

all of his rigorous training with bruce had apparently worked off, because almost right on cue, dick notices how anxious you are right now. he shifts his body language to a more lighthearted demeanor, no longer as stiff. his voice is soft. "listen, i don't care, kind of, but.. just be careful." the way he says it almost makes you feel better, like he cares, and of course he does, but—

"what's that supposed to mean?"

your defensiveness is no surprise to dick. the look on his face let's you know he expects it, and you almost hate yourself for being so predictable.

"i don't want you to get hurt, that's all i'm saying." he tries to reassure, but it does nothing but the opposite. hurt you? you never expected much to come out of your tiny fondness for jason, and even if it did, you knew better than to think it'd be something that'll last forever. "I won't get hurt."

you say it like it's a sure thing. there's this unreadable look in dick's eyes. something that you don't think you've ever seen before, and it almost scares you. like he knows something you don't, but you can't tell what the hell it is. he curtly nods, forcing back that charming smile to his face, but you're no idiot, especially when it comes to him.

"i don't doubt it." and with that, he's gone.

☆☆☆☆☆

it's been a couple of days since your little talk with dick. well, more of a warning than anything, so that's what you take it as. you started being more mindful, not just around jason but everyone. more observant and aware of how you interacted with them. and after a while, you deduced that whatever dick was thinking is just part of his overprotective nature, both as a brother and as a friend. that he'd grow accustomed to you and jason just like everyone else was.

that was up until you noticed your possessions were starting to go missing. it started with just panties, then a bra or two, eventually your sweaters or jewelry. at first, you thought you were going crazy, just misplacing and losing things, but it was happening way too often. bruce spoiled you enough so that everything was replaceable, but still. was dick right?

was jason some sort of pervert or stalker?

well, you think all of them had the stalking part down, getting it from bruce, but you aren't completely oblivious to the fact that jason harbored reciprocated feelings for you. but to go as far as stealing your stuff? even dirty panties? there's no way. it couldn't be. if it was true, you were daring enough to confront him about it. you'd just have to wait for the right time to do it, but that proved more than difficult. there seemed to never be a perfect moment.

bruce had been more rough than before during sparring. and honestly, you didn't mind. at first, it scared you. but with the emotional turmoil you were suddenly experiencing, you almost liked it. those damn hands in your hair, a tight headlock cause his bicep was wrapped around your neck, a muscular thigh between your legs. it felt better than you would ever admit, and you found yourself almost looking forward to it. it was just because you needed some stress relief, right?

bruce intimidated you more than anyone you've ever met, but that didn't stop you from checking him out occasionally. the older man was more than attractive, and no one could deny that, not even you, regardless if you thought he was a bit peculiar.

if you hadn't been so enamored in your thoughts, trying to convince yourself that you weren't just another perv, maybe you would've felt bruce's growing hard-on accidentally poke your ass. or that he's held you in this same position for too long, admiring how you looked bent over for him like this and wanting nothing more but to make you take him right then and there. but he was upset with you.

you were getting too close to jason. on a fatherly note, he knows he should be happy. jason always had trouble around others, and he was probably just another reason for you to stay. but a larger part of him wanted to spank your ass over his knee, gag your tiny mouth on his cock in front of everyone so they knew who you belonged to.

he has to be more careful. he'd barely gotten ahold of you, and if he pushed too much, he'd run the risk of you trying to escape. but he couldn't bear to just stand by and watch while you and jason tried to pursue a relationship. no.. that couldn't happen. jason would have a knife at his throat if he caught bruce just now, that he'd hate him even more if he found out that the girl he was crushing on was being lusted on by his father figure.

but bruce could live with that.

that's why he doesn't say anything when he gently bounces the leg that's slotted between your thighs, your clit grazing against him through the thin fabric of your workout shorts. he only gauges your reaction to it, waiting, expecting you to fight back but you don't. the movement was soft enough for you not to notice it at first, but when the rubbing gets repetitive and you finally realize just how long you've been in such a comprising position for him, a flood of both excitement and anxiety goes straight to your core.

it almost feels like a betrayal to jason, even if you owed him nothing. you couldn't even remember the last time you hooked up with somebody, and it was actually good. you'd been stuck with making yourself cum, and that got old very quickly. on one hand, doing this with bruce could potentially ruin your relationship with his other wards if you were caught, and on the other hand, you were horny enough to not be thinking straight. even if bruce was a weird fuck that you didn't trust fully.

you manage to let out strained whimpers, hoping to appeal to bruce so he'd let you go. the arch of your back had become strenuous, but even then, you found yourself yearning for more. if this is what he wanted, you couldn't bring yourself to stop him. your hips move on their own accord, rutting and pressing the plush lips of your cunt along the thick muscle, face contorting slightly in pleasure whenever your sensitive bud received the attention it craved so much.

he allowed you to hump his leg like an animal in heat, his hips jutting out forward and now fully pressing a heavy cock against your ass, the clothed tip resting by the lower half of your back. whether you fully wanted this or not, it didn't really matter to bruce. the arm that was wrapped around your neck moves down, then squeezing a handful of one of your tits, appreciating its weight and how squishy it was in his grasp.

the differences in sizes made your body appear tinier than it really was, and bruce thought that was cute too. his other free hand wrapping around your body so he could feel both of your pillowy breasts in his hands, his groping making you squirm. even if you encouraged this more than you probably should've, you wonder if this is moving way too fast. he's your best friends dad for christ sake. jason's dad. (as much as he liked to deny it). and you were already living in his mansion.

all while these thoughts swirl through your head, bruce is slipping his hands beneath your shirt and moving the cups of your bra out the way, twisting and pinching at your pert nipples. his teeth find your neck, biting, a tongue licking the sensitive skin. you felt helpless to how quick and overwhelming all of it is. it doesn't take long for it to feel like his presence and touch is suffocating you, and bruce is even more greedy than you are.

"can i touch you baby?" the grufness of his voice sends chills down your spine.

you don't know why he even asks. you stupidly nod your head in agreement, even though rough pads of his fingers are already eagerly shoving themselves into your shorts and cupping your tiny pussy through cotton panties. he hums in content, noting the warmth of it and the gentle rhythmic pulses. your heart races, resisting the urge to hump his hand just like you were on his thigh.

much to your disappointment, he slips his hand out of your shorts, whining at the loss of contact. that is up until your bottoms are being pushed down your legs, and suddenly, you're conscious of how anyone could walk in on the two of you. and you still can't bring yourself to protest.

bruce bends you over once more, your face down and ass up for him. his cock aches in its confines, throbbing and begging to be released, but he holds it off. he stares at your exposed cunt, making you feel subconscious for a bit. your lips are soft and glistening, tiny clit shyly hiding beneath the hood. his thumbs spread your cheeks a bit, your slick holes on display for him.

your arousal drips down, dripping a bit onto the sparring mat in the process. your openings wink at him a bit with small flutters, and bruce leans down slightly, using his own spit to lube up your asshole and rim it with his thumb, even if he wasn't going to use it yet.

your body jolts, yelping a bit in surprise. no one had ever touched you there, and you certainly weren't expecting it just now. your hands move to try and cover yourself. "wait— i've never—"

bruce interrupts you with low shushes, kneading the soft flesh of your asscheek in his hand. he decides to feel your clit instead, his thumb working its way down your slit and easily finding the tiny nub. the constant and steady movement ties a knot in your tummy, instinctively pushing your cunt against his hand, soft moans emitting from you. fuck, he was good at this.

you were no stranger to playboy bruce wayne. ever since you've met him, he always had a litter of lovers that followed him around like lost pets, people that he'd never commit to always at his beck and call. you think you might understand why, now. he was a provider, strong, handsome. and even though you hadn't felt his cock inside you yet, you feared you might not ever want another one again after this.

your pussy fluttered desperately, needing something inside you, an impending orgasm building up but frustration was still there. one of his long, thick fingers offers you grace, gently pushing into your cunt. it was almost comical how easily he got you to gush and make a mess of his hand, the digit rubbing and pushing at that sensitive and spongey spot deep inside of you.

"fuck!— bruce—" you cried out, back arching even further, hair sticking against your forehead due to your sweaty state. you pant quickly, trying to regain composure, but your heart only beats more wildly, like a tiny prey animal, the sound of bruce's clothes being removed filling your ears.

you twist your body and head a bit so you could look at him, the sight making your mouth fall open slightly, practically drooling while you oggled him. regardless of his age, the man before you was built like a damn sculpture. hand-crafted to perfection. he was still toned in all the right places after all these years, even if his body had grown softer during his time as a father. coarse hair that led down to a fat cock that was standing up at full attention.

you whimper a bit, unsure if you were really prepared for this. you assume that whatever this is will have an unspoken agreement to be kept secret, at least you hope so. bruce was sometimes unpredictable, but if dick or even jason found out, you'd imagine you and bruce would be killed.

"don't worry baby," bruce grunts softly, as if he knows exactly what you're thinking. the head of his cock teases your entrance, before moving his hips in a mimick motion of thrusting into you, fucking himself in between your thighs and cunt. the tip of his cock smears pre-cum along your stomach, a thick vein protruding from the shaft, and you worry your guts are about to be rearranged, not knowing if you'll be able to walk without a limp tomorrow.

you haven't been able to catch a good look at his cock yet, but you're sure he's gonna have the biggest dick you've ever had. it's proven to you quickly, the air being knocked out of your lungs when he fully sheaths himself inside, bottoming out without warning.

bruce grins above you, his hand resting on your lower back, just above your butt so he could watch the delicious jiggle of your ass bouncing on his cock. he keeps a slow pace at first. judging by your reaction, he knows the stretch hurts you a bit. your baby pussy was so taut around the meaty length, lips struggling to open up for him, even after playing with it.

soft ah ah ahs spill from you, body quivering ever so slightly. it would've been unnoticeable to anyone who wasn't watching you as closely as bruce was. you wanted to take it. you wanted to be good for him. you didn't want to disappoint him. you needed to take his cock like a big girl, even if you didn't fully understand why you wished to please him so much. maybe it's just cause you were sick of feeling like a child in front of him. like you had something to prove even if it wasn't needed. he'd adore you either way, but you didn't know it yet.

bruce was surprised you even succumbed to him as easily as you did, an adorable determination in your eyes, he presumes for a number of reasons. you were deprived just as much as him, which sometimes led to some questionable decisions. which meant he also knew you'd regret this later. but those were problems for another time.

one of his hands finds your wrists, keeping your arms pinned behind your back. bruce imagines the dainty fingers struggling to wrap around his thick girth, how pretty you would look with a cock fucking down your throat. he had fantasized about this happening for too long.

he fucks you with consistent movements, cherishing this moment in case he wouldn't be able to get it back. you were a kind girl. he knew all about the conflicted feelings that were settled deep in your heart because he felt them too. the teary look in your eyes, not knowing if you wanted him to stop or fuck you even harder, but he'd do the latter. with or without your permission.

bruce snaps his hips with more ferocity, keeping his focus on the recoil of your ass, his cock getting getting increasingly wet with creamy white slick, a ring of cum forming at the base of his length. you shudder a bit, his heavy balls slapping against your clit, and you shift your hips to fuck him back, needily chasing your own orgasm.

"that's it— use that little pussy on daddy," bruce hisses through his teeth, his nails digging into your supple flesh, all the filthy sounds that you and that sweet pussy made had his cock pulsing.

you could barely register a word he said, completely forgetting about anything other than the persistent pounding your weeping cunt was receiving. tears prickle your eyes, spit spilling out of your mouth. you looked a damn mess, barely coherent other than the small chanting of 'daddy' just like a prayer, mindlessly accepting the title.

this was something that bruce could get used to. everything about you was just so damn perfect. he shamelessly hoped that you were ovulating, wishing to fill your womb with his seed and make your belly full and round with his child, then you'd have no reason to leave. even if you tried, he wouldn't allow it.

your toes flex and curl, legs trembling from a wave of ecstasy. your poor cunt spasms uncontrollably around his cock, a strangled but sweet moan forced out of you while you rode out your climax. bruce stuffed you full, plugging himself deep inside of you. he stayed there for a moment before fucking you with slower but unmerciful strokes, skin slapping against you with a force that made your breasts bounce harshly.

your pussy squelches, juices leaking all over him. you struggle to crawl away from him cause of the overstimulation, aching and already sore due to the ceaseless strech. but he only pulls you back, growling at your disobedience, swatting your ass with a calloused hand. bruce cums with a raspy groan, a bruising grip on your hips, the sticky substance painting your velvety walls.

the mat below you is drenched in a mixture of yours and bruce's fluids, sure to leave a stain unless poor alfred was stuck cleaning your mess, and you had a feeling bruce wouldn't do it. you'd be willing to clean it yourself to save the embarrassment, but your weak limbs had other plans.

you think he's finished with you until you're hoisted up, forcibly turned around so bruce could see the rest of your naked body. he wastes no time to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the stiff peak. he wasn't going to allow you to leave here without leaving his mark on you, claiming you by filling up and covering your chest with his lovebites.

he could care less if anyone had seen how effortlessly he managed to corrupt you. all it took was to turn you into his perfect little cocksleeve. it'd be damn near impossible to avoid him after this. even if he wasn't around, the memory would be forever ingrained into your mind, and you wouldn't be able to look at dick or jason or any of the other wards without the reminder that you fucked their father.

you gently try to push at bruce's broad shoulders, the effort not doing much other than making him bite down on your tit, then moving along to the other. you guess the post-nut clarity had hit you, and a tinge of guilt welled up in your chest.

your brows furrow a bit in a feeling of discomfort when bruce glides two fingers through your folds, then gently massaging the swollen button above them. but your heartbeat picks up again, cunt clearly working with a mind of its own.

strained whimpers spill like honey from your lips, now finally shaking your head and attempting to push yourself away in defense when it's what you should've been doing since the beginning. bruce let's you break away from him though, his lips pulling off of you with a pop.

stern eyes meet your lustful but ashamed gaze, a state of displeasure evident on bruce's face. it's something that worries you, unsure of what that might entail. you don't want to make him angry, and you also don't think you're ready to leave the manor just yet, but you also don't know if you can act indifferent around bruce and the others.

maybe if he wasn't around as often, things would be easier, and you'd be able to pretend like this wasn't a mistake. your throat bobs, swallowing your anxiousness, wanting to reevaluate yourself, preferably alone.

you kneel there and wait, half expecting bruce to just fix himself up and leave without much regard for you, because you assumed that's the type of man he would be after fucking someone, but he doesn't. instead, he let's out a small disgruntled noise, collecting your panties and shorts that he had pulled off of you earlier.

his cum is still seeping out of you, a thick load slow to ooze out of you when bruce had emptied his balls inside your abused pussy. he doesn't ask if you want help or if you wanted to be cleaned up, simply raising the fabric up your legs and thighs till the most precious parts of you were covered again. the cotton becomes damp, your wet core coating them with the evidence of yours and bruce's sex.

he shortly cups the tiny cunt in his large hand, gently swiping his thumb over your mound. a small sigh leaves his lips, almost as if he was sad to be leaving the warmth and tightness of it so soon. you're not sure if you're comfortable with how easily he assumed he should have access to your body, but you guess it's also partly your fault, so you allow it for now.

his lips find yours, surprisingly gentle and loving, a stark contrast to how hard he was pistoning his dick inside your belly. but it's pleasant, so you welcome that also. bruce's tongue is smooth and soft, gliding along yours for a moment before he breaks away, a hazy look in his eyes. something you don't think you've ever seen there before, and you swear he's so dreamy to look at.

it's when you remember he's still undressed, eyes shifting below between your bodies and honing in on the massive cock that bruce endowed. even if it was gradually getting softer, he was still semi-hard, his blood pumping to that area just in case he needed to go another round. he'd be more than willing to stuff that tiny hole for you again, and he wished you'd ask him to, but you don't.

but maybe you will someday.

he let's you stare at his cock unabashedly, his breathing heavy and shaky. he slowly moved his hand, gently jerking the long length since you were gawking at him. you let out a cute squeak, suddenly remembering you were about to leave.

bruce doesn't seem to care that it's getting late, or that the rest of the family would be heading down to the cave sooner or later, his focus purely on what was in front of him. but he can see the look of worry written all over you, and it deters him. he stands up to his full height, your eyes widening slightly, his cock dangled in front of you shamelessly, and a small smirk forms on his face.

he has to refrain from grabbing your hair and prodding his dick between those pretty lips of yours. he moves to tug his joggers back on, his cock slapping a bit against his thigh from the movement. you never break eye contact, and neither does he, your thoughts plagued by bewilderment and amorosity.

you stumble over yourself while picking yourself up off the ground, barely reaching bruce's shoulders. you have to tilt your head up just to look at him without straining your eyes, uncertain of what to say or how your relationship with him will be like after this. it's distressing for you, but you're even more concerned with how you're gonna be able to look dick or jason in the eyes again afterwards.

you push away your apprehensiveness, chewing on your bottom lip so you can find the right words. "this— this never happened," you stutter out, your voice coming out more frail than you intended.

bruces lips curl a bit in dismay, his jaw clenching. out of everything he wanted to hear you say, that was certainly not at the top of his list. his hands ball into a fist, his nerves tensing up. he would never think about hurting you. not physically, at least. but you didn't know that. bruce scoffs lightly, almost amused that you actually thought he'd let you off that easily.

you scramble a bit, trying to get your point out before he can get a word in. "if anyone found out–"

"who i fuck is my business only," he cuts you off, already knowing what you'll say next. it's something he's thought over plenty times already. dick had been suprisingly compliant with bruce thus far, so he wasn't an issue according to bruce, and it was easy to get to him anyway. but he didn't foresee his other sons feelings coming into play, or yours. "and you're not an innocent little girl either, so don't act like one."

shit. you were practically digging yourself into a deeper and deeper hole since you moved here. you stare up at him with pleading eyes, and he can't help but soften up a bit. if you were more smart, none of this would've ever happened. how the hell are you gonna be pining after jason now? and bruce.. he seemed less than pleased at the moment. and your gut told you that he wouldn't be letting this go anytime soon.

but he was at heart, a family man. everything he did was out of love, and a desire to protect others so they didn't have to experience the pain he felt when he lost the people most important to him. at least that's what you liked to believe. after jason's passing, they worked so hard to rebuild their relationship, and the trust between them had slowly begun to resemble what it used to be, even if there were some slight changes.

there was no way in your mind that bruce would destroy all of that just for you. you were just some girl, who occasionally hung around his son, but that didn't mean you held as much value in his life than his adopted children. he wouldn't go as far as breaking down his own home, again, just for you, would he?

"if this ever happened," you gesture between the two of you, shaking your head, already gathering how he must've felt about this based off his demeanor. you were no master detective like he was, but being able to easily read body language, sensing people's energies, and intuition, you were good at. "it would ruin everything."

"we're not going to argue about this." he rebutted, taking on a more stern tone, his voice raising above yours. like he was already making the decision for the both of you, and you weren't having that. you want to say more till the sound of footsteps catch your attention, a familiar voice resonating from the stairwell.

"master bruce, is everything alright?" you silently thank whatever higher power that it's alfred instead of someone else. alfred has had his fair share of catching bruce in.. less than favorable circumstances. but the look of surprise on his face isn't something you can miss, even if it's only there for a split second. you'd been caught.

alfred's eyes wander down to the floor below you that's still wet with juices, registering what it was quickly. his eyes meet yours for a moment, smiling at you weakly, then taking a step back from you and bruce. "sorry for the interruption, sir." the older man says formally, turning on his heel to leave, but you do the same before he can.

"actually, i was just leaving." you glance at bruce whose eyes haven't left yours since even before alfred entered the cave. and then you were back to feeling small and helpless around him, back to square one. you sigh and roll your eyes at his poker-face, trying to rush out the cave to escape the awkward interaction.

alfred's eyes follow you with worry, only turning to bruce with a vexed expression once you're gone, shaking his head in disappointment. bruce stared at him blankly, already knowing he was about to get a scolding. "i'm a grown man—"

"precisely." alfred cuts him off, sass in his voice. "she's over a decade younger than you, your sons friend. you have no right to take advantage of her." he argued, pointing a finger in bruce's face.

"she can make her own decisions." bruce seethes, unwilling to hear him out. he hates himself for knowing deep down the butler was right, but he didn't force you to do anything. not really. he knew this wouldn't be without repercussions, but alfred wouldn't say anything either to avoid suspicion.

everything would blow up in bruce's face, and maybe he'd take some accountability for once in his life, but alfred highly doubted that would happen anytime soon.

bruce faced away from him, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. he hated how easily you turned this around on him, turning into a little cock-drunk slut while having sex and then turning around to be angry at him, but it was something he'd seen coming. bruce huffs out a heavy breath, ignoring alfred's smoldering expression. "just get out, i'll clean this up."

"and what of the girl?" alfred asks, side-eyeing the man he raised. he cared more for your safety and how you felt rather than getting on bruce's nerves. "that isn't your concern. i'll take care of it."

alfred was less than enthusiastic about what that could possibly mean, or what any of this would result in. his heart ached for you and jason, even occasionally eavesdropping on the time you spent together, and the friendship had blossomed. maybe it could have turned into something more, but he isn't so sure now.

he turns back into his more reserved and neutral state, giving bruce one last judgmental stare before leaving him to tend to him thoughts. there was no point in trying to reason with him, so he wouldn't waste the energy. he'd only watch you like a hawk now. and bruce included.

with alfred away now, bruce makes quick work of his computer. he searches for the camera he placed in your room upon your arrival to the manor. there's a weird feeling in his chest that he can't quite explain, unsure of what it even was, seeing you curled up in bed, staring off into space. this was one of the rare times he wished he was meta, just so he could read your mind, pick your brain, even if just for a little bit.

you didn't seem sad or angry. just more confused by what he could tell. your eyes shifting like you were thinking up all the possibilities and outcomes of this, and he hated to see it wrack your head. he wished he could say something, or hold you, anything that would give you comfort, but it'd probably just have the opposite of his desired effect.

he had hoped to dwell on the fact that he finally got to penetrate that pretty little cunt of yours more without having to stress over issues that were nonexistent for now, but that wouldn't be the case. there was always something there to bite him in the ass and humble him if need be.

now he could only dream that whatever emotions you possessed for jason would alleviate. that he was an option you didn't know you had up until today. he hoped that he could make you his. and he would. just one day at a time.

he makes sure to save the footage that the security cameras all over the cave had captured, for later usage. he didn't think he'd get an experience like that again anytime soon, that he had just gotten lucky this one time.

but you were almost too eager to fuck him back. bruce wondered if maybe he had more of a chance than he thought, but he didn't know the extent of the loyalty you held for jason or him. or if you would want to avoid the situation completely and decide to leave the mansion. he was never a religious man, but if there was anything for him to pray for, it was you.

he didn't know what was worse. his eyes narrow, analyzing you for a quick moment before shutting off the computer, his head almost beginning to hurt due to the frustration.

just one day at a time.

[emotionalsupport-ljh]

Breaking and Entering

You don't want Jihoon to worry.

Fluff (a miniscule amount of angst) - woozi x fem!reader

A hell of a lot of words for a sick fic :D Described as "princess treatment" by my friends 😌

AO3 link

Word Count: 3.1k

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Before you even open your eyes, you feel a scratch in your throat that burns like hell. You reach for the water on your nightstand and take large gulps trying to soothe the pain. As your eyes open, they droop heavily and take a moment to adjust to the early morning sunlight that makes its way past your curtains. A chill suddenly attacks the uncovered parts of your body. You duck back under your comforter only to have an oppressive heat come in waves that cause sweat to cling to your forehead. On top of all that, you can’t breathe out of your left nostril. You’re terribly sick.

As you lament in your miserable state, a notification brightens your phone and you have to shut your eyes. You blink them trying to get used to the light, but all it does is give you a headache. You brave through the pain to turn your brightness down and check the notification. It’s a text from your boyfriend, Jihoon.

Jiji: good morning babe~ 😘

You: Good morning!

Jiji: what are ur plans for today? work?

You: No

You pause for a moment before continuing your response. You wonder if it’s a good idea to tell him that you aren’t feeling well today. On one hand, he might want to know that kind of stuff so that he can take care of you. On the other hand, it could cause some unnecessary stress in his already stressful life. Also, with his busy schedule, he probably wouldn’t be able to do much. You decide ultimately that this illness would probably be over quickly, and you don’t want to make Jihoon worry about nothing a little cough medicine and tea would fix.

You: I'm going to take the day off to relax and be lazy lol 😏

Jiji: that sounds nice

i wish i could do the same 😮‍💨

You: Busy schedule today?

Jiji: yup 🙃 but im excited for our date later this week

You: Me too!

Jiji: i have to go to work

text me later

You: Will do! I love you 🩷

Jiji: love u too~🖤

Putting your phone down and taking the chance to move from your bed to at least retrieve some relief in the form of medicine or warm tea, you feel your muscles ache in a way that makes you never want to move again. For now, you stare at the ceiling with the resolve to get over this silly little cold. You fall asleep soon after and stay asleep for many, many hours.

When you finally awaken again, the chill in your bones still hasn't subsided, no matter how many layers of sheet and blanket cover you. You have to force your eyes to open against the deeper sunlight now pouring through the cracks in your curtains. You power through the discomfort to get them to adjust to the brightness. Again, you reach a hand out for your phone and see that it is afternoon and that you have some missed texts from your boyfriend.

Jiji: hey~

wuts up

Jiji: taking an afternoon nap huh

text me when u see this

The messages were all sent about 45 minutes ago. You feel a little bad about lying, but it only strengthens your resolve to get better and put the whole lie behind you. You text back like normal, hoping that he has the time to read and respond even for just a few minutes.

You: Sorry! I fell asleep watching anime

It doesn’t take too long for a reply to pop-up. You had been dating Jihoon for months now, but you still got butterflies every time he texted you. Even now, aching all over and dripping from your face, he makes you feel a warmth you swore would make you even healthier than you were before.

Jiji: oh rub it in my face 🙄 lol

dont get too far without me

You: I would never!! 😫

How’s it been today? You're not too stressed, right?

Jiji: eh

im coping lol

nothing im not used to

You: Don’t push yourself too hard ok? 🥺

You're doing such a great job!!!!!!

Jiji: thx lol

i gotta go. love u~ 🖤

You: I love you too 🩷

You decide to try to come up with the ultimate healing game plan for the rest of the day. You plot out your meals and activities to maximize the time you can spend getting better. Or at least you try to as you come to realize that sleeping an extra 4 and a half hours without getting out of bed means that you’ve yet to relieve yourself. This kickstarts your game plan as you rush to the bathroom.

You power through the aches in your body to finally brush your teeth and put your hair in a manageable bun for the day. You put on your sweats and some socks to keep warm and make your way to the kitchen where you heat up some soup and make a mug of herbal tea. You take medicine and take it easy all day. The change in scenery from your bedroom to the living room not only motivates your mind to change, but also it motivates your body to move. You swear you already feel better.

Unfortunately, the next two days look the same, and you do not, in fact, feel any better. Even with minimal movement throughout the days, you still manage to leave a mess of dirty dishes, clothes, and tissues strewn about the apartment. You are miserable and finally starting to come to terms with it. The delusion of your ability to heal quickly and on your own was finally starting to dissipate. You thought seeing a doctor was a waste of time, but you start to see the necessity of an appointment the more time you spend with a scratch in your throat and a headache hammering your skull.

The worst part, however, is not the pain, nor is it the constant sweating or the need to breathe through your mouth. No, the worst part is that today is Jihoon’s one day off; you are supposed to be ready to go on a date.

It's a little late in the morning when you wake up. You thrash in your bed frustrated that you are still sick and very tired. When you check your phone, there are no new messages. It isn't unusual for Jihoon to sleep in on his days off. You dread having to tell him the truth that you had been sick all week and couldn’t go out tonight. You could anticipate his response: a string of crying emojis and then a laugh where he says he’s just kidding and he’s fine as long as you get better. He wouldn’t really be okay with it, but he would say he is. He would be really disappointed; he isn’t very good at showing his true emotions, but you know he feels them so deeply. You don’t want to cause him any undue stress or heartbreak. At this point, it unfortunately is inevitable.

You grab your phone and hover over Jihoon’s contact, trying to muster the courage to send your good-morning-text and your confession followed by a long apology and promises to make it all up to him one day. You don’t expect your phone to ring, brandishing a very familiar sweet smiling selfie with the name “Jiji” underneath. You are startled then you take a deep breath, clear your throat, and answer.

“Good morning, my baby,” a sleep-rasped voice calls out from the other side.

“Good morning,” you try to answer in a normal voice, doing your best to hide your congestion.

“You sound different. What’s up?” Jihoon caught on immediately.

You whine a little over the phone, only prolonging the inevitable. There’s only silence from the other side. “I’m sick,” you say, then blurt out, “I’ve been sick for the past three days. I really, really tried to get better, honestly. I’m so sorry, Jiji. I can’t go out tonight.”

Your heart beats quickly in your chest, maybe from the nerves of finally coming clean, maybe from the extra exertion on your sick body. The five seconds it takes for Jihoon to respond feel like five hours. All he says is, “Oh. Okay.” After that, he hangs up the phone, leaving you stunned and with a horrible pit in your stomach.

You’re in shock. The kind of shock people feel after breaking a limb or recovering from a disaster. It pushes every other feeling out of your body. You do your morning routine in a fugue state. When you sit back in your bed, it all hits you at once. Tears stream down your face almost unconsciously, and you lay down with your face in your pillow. Eventually, you fall asleep again, too tired from the illness to continue to cry or feel anything.

Jihoon makes up his mind quickly. After abruptly hanging up the phone, he immediately gets up and goes through his own routine faster than ever, even taking 30 minutes off of his normal workout just to have more time for his own plan. After coming home, he does something a little out of character. He goes to the kitchen to cook something that isn’t chicken breast and white rice.

This surprises his roommates. Soonyoung tries to help him with the big pot of what was so far just stock and vegetables. He gets distracted easily, and it takes him a long time to cut up an onion. Jeonghan takes a picture of Jihoon and sends it in the group chat asking if this is normal behavior for Woozis. Seungkwan tries to taste it before the dish is ready and whines when his hand is met with a smack from a wooden spoon.

“This isn’t for any of you. Leave it alone,” Jihoon says in a stern voice.

“Wait, what? Then who is it for?” Soonyoung raises an eyebrow at him.

“Y/N, my girlfriend. She’s sick.”

The mood in the apartment changes. Now, Jeonghan is texting more furiously in the group chat about how Jihoon cares so much about his poor, sick girlfriend. Seungkwan now insists on tasting the dish the whole way through the cooking process to make sure it’s suitable for such refined tastes as his and yours. Soonyoung calls his mom and asks what the best thing is to cure illnesses. It becomes a whole big thing that has Jihoon a little bit annoyed but also grateful his friends care about you almost as much as he cares about you.

Jihoon’s morning and the better part of his afternoon off of work are then filled with surprise visits from Mingyu, Jun, and Seokmin who bring an array of dishes that could feed you for a month and Minghao who brings a special tea blend that he uses when he's feeling sick. Vernon sends a playlist of chill music for you to listen to while you recover, and Wonwoo writes a list of movies he recommends you watch to rest. Chan makes a special delivery of his grandma's famous kimchi, which has the rest of the boys groaning that they don't get any this time. Joshua sends the best essential oil wax melts so you can indulge in some aromatherapy. Finally, Seungcheol makes sure that Jihoon tells you that he can send anything in the world to your house using his card whether it be medicine or a treat from your favorite bakery or even a new designer pajama set to make sure you are at maximum comfort levels.

As he makes his way over to your apartment, Jihoon feels silly carrying a bunch of bags filled with various gifts from everyone on top of the soup he made that seems to pale in comparison. He curses Jeonghan under his breath for telling everyone his plan to bring you supplies, effectively making him the delivery boy because he is the only person who has the passcode to your apartment. He tries to call you on his way over, now adding his phone to the pile he was juggling. It rings a few times and then goes to voicemail. He tries again and meets the same outcome. He assumes that you’re resting; being sick for multiple days sounds exhausting which is why he is so willing to bring over everything he (and the others) could possibly think of to make you feel better.

Jihoon reaches your front door and knocks loud enough that you would be able to hear it from your room, but soft enough that you wouldn’t wake up if you were resting. He waits a beat before just typing the code and letting himself inside. He makes his way to the kitchen and sets down the various bags on the countertops. Only once his arms are empty does he realize the state of the apartment. He slowly takes in the dirty dishes and various random stuff left on the floor. The trashcan is full, and tea bags litter the countertops. There are tissue boxes everywhere, each one full of used tissues.

He walks slowly to your room and, opening the door, he almost couldn’t make out your sleeping shape on the bed. You’re curled up into a ball under many layers of blankets on one side, and on the other was a pile of clothing. There’s more clothing on the floor. Jihoon goes back to the kitchen and takes a deep breath. He meticulously puts all the food everyone prepared into the fridge, rolls up his sleeves, and decides to start there. He makes a list in his head of all the things he could realistically do in the few hours you would be asleep.

The next moment, Jihoon is elbow deep in soapy water scrubbing dishes and wiping countertops. He finds all the cleaning instruments and proceeds to sweep and vacuum. He fills a trash bag with tissues, tissue boxes, and food containers. He gently tiptoes around your room, gathering up the clothes from the floor, which he assumes are dirty, and putting them in the wash. The clothes on the bed, which he checks are clean, are now folded and put in a hamper for later sorting. He even has time to reheat his soup and make a pretty plating of it paired with some rice and a cup of some of Minghao’s herbal tea.

You awaken when you hear dishes clanking in the kitchen. Someone is in your home. You freeze until the noise stops and begin to get up from your bed. With your legs swung over the side of the bed, ready to stand and possibly defend yourself, the door opens slowly and in walks Jihoon with a tray of dishes.

He looks surprised, then flashes a big smile, then says, “Good, you’re awake. It’s time to eat.”

All you can do is stare at him in disbelief as he sets a tray of soup and rice and tea on your lap. He sits cross-legged in the empty space beside you and scrolls through his phone as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

“W…what’s all this?” you stutter out, utterly confused.

“Lunch,” Jihoon answers nonchalantly.

Looking at him beside you, you realize that there is indeed empty space on your bed for him to sit where there was once a pile of clothes. Tears appear behind your eyes when you look around at the spotless floor of your bedroom. You look at your boyfriend as one tear falls.

“Did you…”

“Yeah, it was a real mess in here.” He turns to look at you and uses his thumb to wipe the one tear from your cheek. “Start eating. I bet you haven’t eaten all day. How are you supposed to get better if you don’t eat?”

He was right. You take a spoonful of broth and bring it to your lips. It tastes wonderful. Alternating between tea and soup and rice, you feel fuller, and the heat from the meal eases your throat just a little more. Jihoon looks at you and sees how happy you look to be having a meal that wasn’t microwaved from a package. You are already almost done with the meal after only a few minutes.

“See, you were hungry, huh?” He teasingly shakes his head.

You lightly push your boyfriend's arm. You make a face, suddenly feeling awkward to be around him. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“What? Why? Because you lied to me for days and didn’t let me take care of you? Or because you canceled our date on the day of because you assumed I cared that we went out somewhere?” he starts sarcastically, “I actually hadn’t thought about it all day.”

“I’m serious, Jiji!” you try to whine but end in a cough. He’s laughing at you as you get a little frustrated.

“I’m seriously not mad. I wish you would’ve told me, but being mad won’t fix anything.” His smile is soft, and he’s looking at you with love in his eyes.

“I’m really sorry. I just didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t know it would last this long. Honestly, I don’t know what I have, and you probably shouldn't be sitting so close to me right now.” You weakly try to push Jihoon away, but he sits like a rock, not budging at all.

“I’m fine,” he chuckles, “The plague couldn’t even keep me away from you.” He leans to kiss your forehead.

All your muscles relax as the last few bites on your plate disappear. Jihoon takes the empty tray in one hand and uses the other to guide you to your feet with him. He wordlessly walks you both out of the room. You see that not only is the entire apartment clean, but there are small gifts left out on the coffee table.

“What is all this?” you ask your boyfriend as take a seat on the couch, waiting for him to put the empty plates and bowls from the tray in the sink.

He takes a seat next to you and rubs the back of his neck with one hand and avoids eye contact when he answers, “The guys heard you weren’t feeling great, so, of course, they had to help out, too.” He goes through and shows you the wax melts, medicine, and self-care products. He also tells you about your new stock of homemade meals from the best cooks in the group. You get really excited about the kimchi from Chan’s grandma. He sends you Vernon’s playlist and Wonwoo’s recommendations. He even shows you the text Seungcheol sent him about using his card for whatever you might need.

Everything is perfect for the rest of the evening that was supposed to be a fancy, romantic date night. It turns out that watching movies and listening to music while snuggling and talking is the best medicine for illness and the most romantic date you have ever been on.