#I love his voice and he's so cute uwu

[sutorus]

THE GRUDGE PROFESSOR!GETO for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: everybody loves professor geto, and judging by the thousands of viewers you get on every live, a lot of people love you, too. but you and professor geto hate each other. you’ve had enough of his humiliation rituals, and decide to do something about it.

PAIRING: mean professor!geto x student!reader

WC: 5.3k i am an unstoppable beast

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, teacher/student dynamic! adult age gap! (reader is in college, unspecified age), sw/camgirl!reader (don’t like don’t read! no shaming 😤), strong language, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, darling), reader calling geto "sir", unprotected relations, creampie, afab reader and terms

A/N: this switches between povs a lot so i hope that’s okay or at least readable lol! also i set out to write him so much meaner but he’s just kind of a simp... enjoy?

reblogs are very much appreciated i'll uwu for u :pleading eyes emoji:

it is said that those who cannot do, teach. 

geto suguru could have done many things. he had the brains, the muscles, the features, the traits. the ambition to succeed in any field he desired. satoru says in a world ruled by the strong there is no place for humility. 

but humility is not why suguru became a teacher. neither is ineptitude. no, he’d become a teacher because it was the right thing to do. 

to use his gifts to help shape new generations, help unlock potentials long dorment and buried deep under years of a lackluster schooling system. geto suguru prided himself, above all, in being a righteous man. 

but japan’s most upstanding citizen for 28 years in a row held a shameful secret. a secret in the shape of you. 

he saw the darkest sides of himself on your face (eyebrows scrunched, eyes shut tightly, jaw slack as you—), your voice (higher in pitch with desperate moans that sound almost scared on the brink of your—), your body (taut and plump in all the right places, glistening with sweat, bouncing up and down on a—). 

when you walked into his classroom that fateful day, the world tilted on its axis. his first thought was, fuck, then, it can’t be, then, most embarrassing of all, i’ll finally find out what she smells like. 

(he did, when you went up to his desk to hand over your test. a whiff of vanilla, argon oil shampoo. too sweet, too youthful. and he’d watched you leave, tennis skirt flowing like a water lily, dick already chubby in his pants.)

it was slowly starting to consume him.

the first time you spoke in class, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. it was really you. the cute, slutty girl he’d been milking his cock to for the better part of a year. 

god, when you finally said his name. you would never in your wildest dreams think that he’d been imagining those words coming out of your mouth, of him coming out of your mouth, dripping out of you, all over you—

he was losing it. this was not like him. this was never supposed to happen, and he has to put an end to it. 

everybody knew of geto suguru, the prodigy professor. already getting a phd despite not even being 30, handling the administrative slack for the department while managing office hours every day of the week, promoting student events, helping organize spirit weeks and charity drives. 

everything he did, he did for others. those not as capable as him — which was most people. in other words, it was really, really hard to hate him. 

but you damn well managed to. 

and to think you were excited to take his class. everybody told you to run, not walk, to sign up for his twentieth-century Japanese philosophy chair. 

“oh, professor geto is just the best,” they’d said. “he makes it sound so interesting and engaging, he gives the most life changing assignments, he really cares about us.”

bullshit. 

the first time you stepped into that classroom, suspiciously full for a philosophy class, you felt a shift in the air almost immediately. 

and sure enough, professor geto suguru was eyeing you down like he’d just seen a ghost. it made you self conscious, like he’d taken one look at you and decided right then and there you were too dumb for the class. 

it made your blood boil. sure, you stood out a little bit from the actual philosophy majors, but that doesn’t mean he gets to judge you. he literally doesn’t know you!

but fine, first impressions are tricky like that. for all you knew, you could’ve been misjudging him right there. 

however, with each passing day, you grew more and more assured in your suspicions.

you knew the man had it out for you, always calling on you to answer when he knew you weren’t paying attention, never grading your papers above a B even though you did everything right, somehow managing to fucking avoid you during his excessive office hours. 

his looks were almost the most infuriating part of it.

his beautiful face constantly set in that nonchalant look, his big veiny hands always gesticulating, his huge fucking arms straining the fabric of those dress shirts, his ear gauges and man bun contrasting the prim and proper image the rest of him conveyed. 

under different circumstances, he’d make your mouth water. under different circumstances, you’d imagine him going down on you all night long, singing praise about how good you taste and how tight you are. 

but in this timeline, you absolutely loathed him. and he loathed you too. why? you didn’t know. 

but you knew for a fact that it was personal. 

“i don’t care,” megumi said around a mouthful of meatball, cutting your monologue short. “i’m not doing it.”

you sigh, melting into your chair. “megumi. please. i am literally begging you, i just need some hard evidence so i can go report his ass.”

he eyes you curiously. “report him for what?”

“i don’t know. bullying? sexism? whatever the hell his problem is,” you pick at your food, huffing in annoyance. 

“you’re overthinking it,” megumi replies, dismissively. 

“okay, how about this,” you lean forward, putting an elbow on the table. “if you write the assignment for me, i’ll get your dog that expensive halloween costume you’ve been wanting.”

megumi lifts an eyebrow. 

“you need to get one for each,” he says simply. 

you grin. “deal.”

suguru really does give it his all to make your life with him a living hell. pulls out all the stops, years of friendship with gojo satoru paying off as he comes up with ploy after ploy to get you to drop his class. 

it feels bad, being mean to you. but for the hidden, twisted parts of him, it feels delicious. 

watching you huff and puff, all hot and bothered when he corrects your answers on the spot. watching you nibble on your pen at the increasingly difficult exams he hands out. letting himself wonder if you missed a stream this week because you were too busy cramming for a make up test. 

he knows he’s pushing you to your limit, and even if there’s some sort of sick satisfaction in seeing you so agitated at his hands when it’s usually the other way around, he doesn’t enjoy upsetting you. 

the problem is, suguru knows it’s either he gets his shit together or he continues tormenting you, and, well. 

the spirit is willing but the flesh is so, so weak. 

he knows it’s getting worse, too, because he’s not infatuated by you only when you’re undressing on his screen, or all dolled up in class. 

when you tie your hair up in a ponytail, when you suck on a hangnail, when you lick your thumb to erase a smudge on your paper… all of it drives him wild. 

he can’t teach with a permanent half chub anymore. this has to end, one way or another. 

you sit down in front of your computer, adjusting the camera before turning it on. soon, viewers start trickling in, little dings notifying you of their messages. 

you smile, waving at the screen. 

“hi everyone! i know i’m a little bit late today, i hope you can forgive me…” your eyes scan the chat, giggling at the compliments. “‘you look tired, sad face’, ah. i’m sorry. i guess i’ve been a little stressed lately.”

your robe falls over your shoulder as you readjust your position. a few donations come in, accompanied by supportive messages.

“you guys are so nice. it’s not a big deal, it’s just this dude giving me a hard time at college.” 

you absentmindedly trace your collarbones, reading what your viewers are saying. 

“you’ll kill him for me? that’s so sweet,” you joke. “nah, it’s not a student. it’s a professor. exactly, ynlover444, a grown ass man picking on me!”

you sigh deeply, allowing your body to finally unwind and relax on your chair. you prop a knee up against the armrest, giving your viewers a little peek in between your legs. you’re wearing one of your favorite sets, trying to get in the mood after the week you’ve had. 

“ugh, sometimes i wish i could just…” you suck in a breath, clenching your hand into a fist before releasing it. “sit on his face and get him to shut up, you know?”

you laugh at the countless me firsts that flood the chat, bringing a finger to your lip. 

“anyway! enough about that horrible man,” you reach beside you to grab a box your viewers know all too well by now. “let’s get to the fun stuff, shall we?”

as always, satoru is no help. 

“why don’t you just fuck her?” he asks, eyebrows arching above his sunglasses. “ya gotta just fuck her.”

suguru clears his throat before taking a drag of his cigarette. “i’m not fucking a student.”

satoru shrugs. “everybody does it. besides, you basically already do.” 

suguru wonders, not for the first time, why he ever told his friend about his situation. about your streams, that he’d stumbled upon randomly and innocently and had gotten instantly hooked, about you barging into his classroom like an angel at hell’s gates, about you you you you, everything about you. 

“that won’t fix anything.”

satoru clicks his tongue, swirling his soda inside the can.

“poor, naive suguru. did you not just tell me about what she said on her stream?" and yes, regrettably, suguru had told him. "it’ll fix everything.”

suguru doesn’t even let himself consider it, except he does.

at this point it’s no secret that he’s thought about being inside you, but now that you’re here it’s just too real and too risky and completely fucking wrong. 

it goes against the entire life he’s built for himself. 

he’s lost. he wants you so fucking bad, wants you close, wants you so far away, wants to ravage you and never have to see you again. 

it’s fight or flight. if he got you alone, it could go either way, he realizes that. 

suguru wonders what part of him will win by the end of all of this. 

your heels clack on the linoleum floor of the hallway as you approach professor geto’s classroom, megumi’s graded paper clutched tightly against your chest. 

the thing about megumi is that he's a star student. he’s never gotten anything below an A on any of his essays, makes the dean’s list every year, tutors his seniors. so the big, bright B- on the page tells you everything you need to know. 

damn right it’s personal. 

you don’t even bother knocking, slamming the door open while still trying to contain your indignation. 

geto is sitting at his desk, piles of papers sprawled on top. he has his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a surprised look on his face that would be cute if you didn’t want to slap it right off. 

he says your last name like he’d been expecting you all his life.

“to what do i owe the pleasure?”

your jaw clenches as you take a few loud steps towards him. you slam megumi’s paper down on his desk, leaning over. 

“professor geto, i demand an explanation. a real one, this time.”

the man takes a deep breath, lips twisting disapprovingly. he smoothes the paper over.

“as i already explained in my notes right here, the structure is fine, but i couldn’t help but miss a more in-depth analysis of the four nodal concerns of philosophy that we talked about in class, such as—“

“no,” you interrupt. “just no. you know you’re bullshitting me and i’m sick of it. this paper deserved an A!”

“miss—“

“what’s your problem with me?” you spit out. your eyes finally meet and there’s nothing in geto’s that could answer your question. your chest is heaving, lips wobbling and hands shaking, trying to contain your anger. 

geto clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “like i said, your paper could’ve used a bit more—“

“no it fucking couldn’t have, because it’s not my fucking paper, it’s fushiguro’s fucking paper and the only reason you gave it a B is because i was the one who handed it in!”

he sits up, straightening his posture.

geto sounds austere when he asks, “do you realize how much trouble this could be for both of you if i reported it?”

you can’t believe this man. he’s been picking on you the entire semester and when you finally confront him about it this is what he chooses to focus on. 

“are you fucking kidding me?” that earns you a stern look from him, eyebrow raising taller than that fucking high horse he sits on. “professor geto. what did i ever do to you?”

there must be something earnest in your voice because geto sighs, getting up from his chair. 

he walks until he’s standing in front of you, leaning against his desk and crossing his feet. 

“do i bother you?” is all he says. it surprises you. 

you jut your chin out. “as a matter of fact, you do.”

the man hums. 

“i bet that’s really difficult for you,” he speaks like he’s sympathetic, like he understands. he sounds almost sheepish when he says, “i bet sometimes you wish i would just shut up.”

you blink rapidly. “no, it’s not like that. it might shock you but i genuinely do enjoy your class, it’s just that—“

“or maybe you wish you could shut me up,” he continues, ignoring you. “maybe going as far as to say that you could… sit on my face to get me to shut up.” 

your mouth goes dry.

before your brain can fully process the shift in the atmosphere or the fact that your professor is maybe possibly hitting on you, you realize where those words are coming from. 

it’s what you said. about him. on stream. right before fucking yourself on your hot pink dildo. 

you can’t speak, can barely even look in his general direction. 

you had really thought things couldn’t get any worse. had barged into his office with nothing to lose, almost hoping he would cordially invite you to remove yourself from his class permanently. 

but now? now you have no idea what’s going to happen to you. 

“i…” you start, the words dying in your throat. geto chuckles, crossing his fat fucking muscly arms across his chest. 

he says your name, low and syrupy. “is it true? you’d like to?”

you can feel your face flush hot in embarrassment, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, wishing desperately that you’d never walked into his classroom. 

you have half the mind to apologize to him, right now.

“it’s just a figure of speech,” you try. geto clicks his tongue. 

“what a shame.”

your wide eyes shoot up and meet his. “w-what?”

he smiles sweetly. 

“it’s a peace offering. you can take it, or we can forget you ever said anything,” and isn’t he just so slimey, actually, when he’s the one who brought it up. he had said it, and now… 

now you can finally allow yourself to look at him.

those delicious, broad shoulders, the ever-present bored look, the stubborn fringe that falls out of his bun. 

you could so easily forget what you came here for. 

“so, like, a truce?” you ask, taking a daring step forward. geto nods, uncrossing his arms. “and you stop treating me like i’m fucking dumb?”

he tilts his head. “i think you’re a very smart young lady. determined. entrepreneurial…”

“geto—“

“professor geto,” he corrects you, hands reaching out to graze your hips. “you’re intelligent. i just like to push my students.”

you both know that’s a lie, but it’s okay, because now you know exactly why you got under his skin and it makes your own burn. 

you run a hand down the line of buttons on the front of his shirt, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

“then… push me, professor.”

it’s so incredibly lame, the porn line you hit him with, but to your surprise it works, a low groan rumbling deep in geto’s chest. 

he swiftly closes the distance between the two of you, grabbing both sides of your face and crashing your lips together. 

it’s ravenous, the way geto dips his tongue inside when you gasp in surprise. you moan against his mouth, slipping a leg in between his two. 

he’s half hard already when he rubs up against your thigh. 

geto picks you up with ease and sets you down on his desk, and it’s so fucking cliché, the papers crinkling under your weight, the pens clattering to the floor. but it turns you on beyond belief. 

you share a few open mouthed kisses, an exchange of tongue and moans and hot breaths between your lips. 

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that you've fantasized about it before. a silly idea, at first, something you'd just blurted out mid-stream.

but that little seed had been planted, and when you got yourself off that night, you might've imagined for a moment that it was your mean professor's cock squeezed tight inside you, making you come undone.

geto slips his hands under your skirt, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. you line up your crotch with his, moving your hips in tight little circles that make the both of you groan. 

his fingers are tugging your underwear down, down, the soft patch sticking to your gooey cunt. he lets the soaked fabric dangle from your ankle, grazing the back of his knuckles on your core. 

“mmm, fuck,” geto breaks the kiss, swallowing. his pretty lips are flushed and shiny, parted around his panted breaths. “you always get this wet or am i special?”

he’s smirking, the bastard, leaning back in to kiss your neck.

god, you smell so good, like lotion and perfume and sunshine and sin. 

“shouldn’t you know?” you sneak your fingers up into his bun, pushing your chest against him. he works his lips expertly on your skin, using just the right amount of teeth, of pressure.

geto hums against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw. he snakes a hand under your skirt, thumb pressing down hard to rub on your clit, two fingers slipping inside. 

you immediately clench, a soft, drawn out mewl leaving your lips. 

the slide of his fingers against your walls send a chill down your spine, filling you up so perfectly. you feel the thin skin at your opening stretch around him, burning at the friction as his fingers plunge in and out of you. 

“god, look at that,” he rests his forehead on your shoulder and pulls the hem of your skirt up. “do you hear that, baby? so fucking wet for me.”

you whine, hands cupping his jaw so you can kiss him again. 

“please…” you mumble against his lips. “more…”

you wonder how much of what you can say he's heard before, which exact words have left your lips and sent him over the edge. it makes you self conscious, oddly, like he can see right through you.

not-so-kindly ignoring your request, geto removes his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth.

you watch as his eyelids flutter in pleasure, a hum rumbling low in his throat. 

he looks so good like this, just edible.

you pull him in for a kiss before he can, relishing in the surprised little noise he lets out. your knees are wobbling, feet dangling from your seat as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

he swallows your moan hungrily, forearms trembling with the need to hold back.

geto knows this is wrong, so wrong on so many levels, puts both your positions in jeopardy, it makes him feel perverted and primal and so fucking alive. 

he’s been watching you fuck yourself on those silly toys for god knows how long now, knows every spot that makes your hips buck, knows exactly how to make you cream like a debased slut around a cock. 

it should feel unfair, how easy it’s going to be for him to make you cum, only if it weren’t for the fact that your mere presence is enough to get him hard as fucking diamonds. 

“tastes good, huh?” he whispers, thumb caressing your chin. you nod, smiling devilishly. 

“tastes better on your tongue, prof.” 

geto groans low like a starved animal, holding your throat in his hand with a loose grip. he’s overwhelmed, that much shows, not knowing what to do with you or where to start. but there’s one thing he’s sure of. 

he presses one last kiss to your spit-slick lips before dropping to his knees. 

you can hardly believe it. sulky, big bad bully professor geto suguru on his knees for you. you prop a foot up on his desk, your sole skidding on a piece of paper. 

“scoot closer, please,” he asks, cordial even like this. you bring your ass to the edge of the desk, your dripping pussy hovering over his face. 

he looks so good under you, hair already disheveled, a delicious tent in his tailored pants. 

you tuck the hem of your skirt into the waistline so you can watch as he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning like he’s fucking relieved. 

you throw your head back, fingers buried in his silky hair as geto’s fingers find their way back inside. 

he fucks them in and out of you lazily, pushing out strings of slick. geto slurps it all up, spreading your wetness all over your clit and sucking it back in his mouth. 

god, his cock is straining in his pants but he doesn’t dare touch it, can’t until he’s inside you. you taste like fucking heaven, like all his fantasies, like he always knew you would. 

you’re whining softly, bucking your hips into his face almost shyly, as to disrupt his pace.

you sound so much better in person, although he can’t wait to have you moaning into his ear without needing the headphones. 

“god, this perfect pussy,” geto mumbles into you, his breathing labored. he runs a thumb all over your cunt, gliding it over your soaked lips. “been dreaming about it for so long.”

“yeah?” you ask. “tell me. tell me how you stroke your cock to me every night.”

and every night might be overselling it. geto is a busy man. 

but your words do make him realize that no girl he’s had since he found your stream has satisfied him quite like you do. your flirty smile, your moans, the way they sometimes turn into uncontained giggles as you stuff your pretty cunt with a dildo. 

so he tells you, blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“fuck, i do,” he tongues your clit, tracing lazy circles. “i do. just look what you do to me.“

and there it is, that cheeky, slutty giggle, directed at something he said this time. 

he takes his fingers out, spreading your opening with both thumbs as he licks you all over. 

geto gulps, tongue dipping inside of you, sucking your clit into his mouth, sliding down to your entrance, every clench of your pussy pushing out more and more slick for him. no one's ever eaten you out as thoroughly as this.

“oh, fuck, sir,” it slips out casually, the way it would were you talking to any other professor. but given the circumstances, you revel in the deep moan geto buries into your cunt. 

you trap your lips between your teeth to keep anything else from tumbling out, but it’s useless.

“please, sir, i’m so close—so close just keep doing that, yeah just like that—“

“fuck,” he mumbles, pulling away to suck in a desperate breath. then, “fuck,” sultrier, right into your core. 

you grind against his face, finding purchase in his hair as a final few flicks of his tongue push you right into the crest of a mind-numbing orgasm.

it’s so good, so much better than when you're alone. the friction so perfect, his long, thick fingers plugging you up last minute to viciously fuck into you. 

“god…,” you breathe out, legs trembling as he runs his hands up your thighs. 

his chin is glistening, bubbles of spit and cum gathering in the corner of his mouth. he looks so good like this, like he was meant to please you and nothing else. 

geto feels like a fucking teenager, so goddamn close to busting in his pants at the sight of you. his dick hurts, balls tight and the head throbbing where it’s tucked into his underwear. 

“please, sweetheart,” he can’t hold himself back any longer, slick fingers already undoing his belt. 

you get to work on his zipper, pulling his pants down along with his underwear and damn. 

you figured he was big. he was a tall man, broad shoulders, shoes the size of a yacht, and the bulge in his trousers was a pretty good indication. but it couldn’t have prepared you for the sheer size of him. 

longer than it is thick, cleanly shaven, pretty veins and ridges and standing angry red in attention. god, you want it inside you. 

he notices you looking. 

“do you need more prep? i can—“

“no, fuck no, suguru, need it inside me now,” you wrap a hand around him and he hisses, caging you in with his arms on the desk. 

he huffs out a laugh, blowing the fringe framing his face. “what happened to sir?”

you kiss down his jaw, squeezing right below his tip. 

“sorry, sir,” you say against his ear. “are you going to punish me for my slip up?”

geto groans, pulling on your hair hard and making you face him. 

“take your shirt off for me,” he instructs, and you obey, maneuvering around his tight grip on the back of your head. 

his spirit is so unbreakable.

here you are, teasing him, coaxing him to rough you up, push you around, relieve both your frustrations properly once and for all, but he’s just so… adoring, and hungry, and just so irrevocably into you, and you find out that’s so much better. 

geto relents his hold on you to unclasp your bra, cupping your breasts and sucking a nipple into his mouth. you whine, caressing his hair. 

“so fucking perfect,” he massages your tits, looking mesmerized. 

“yeah? they haven’t gotten old to you yet?”

he laughs, so cute, and you can barely remember that just hours ago you hated the sight of him. you stroke his cock up and down, squeezing harder at the tip trying to milk all that delicious pre he’s been wasting on the inside of his boxers. 

“no, f-fuck—never gonna get old,” he pushes your boobs against each other, imagining his cock sliding in between them, his balls nestled underneath, his load blown all over your pretty face—

fuck, he’s gonna cum if he keeps going like this. 

he rips your hand away from him, ignoring your knowing smirk and pushing his tongue into your mouth. 

“i’m gonna fuck you now, okay, sweetheart?” you moan, nodding, shimmying your hips so he can have the perfect angle. 

a big hand clasps your thigh to wrap your leg around his hips as his tip pokes around your entrance.

you’re whining in anticipation, clenching around nothing, nails clawing his clothed back. 

when he slips in, it feels like coming home. you’re like warm honey around him, cunt pushing him out but clinging to him at the same time, with every stroke. it’s fucking maddening. 

“ahh, g-god, sir, ‘s too big—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat, feeling the tip of his cock in your guts. 

he’s huffing, concentrated, bullying his cock into you inch by inch with shallow thrusts until he finally bottoms out. 

“fuuuuck, angel,” he grips your waist with both hands, like he could just fuck you up and down his length if he wanted to. “took me so well, look at that.”

you do, dropping your heavy head to look at where you’re connected. you clench around him and he whines, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. 

the metal legs of the desk skid on the floor, papers and pens raining down to the floor as geto starts roughly plunging in and out of you. 

you let out little ah, ah, ahs in time with his strokes, the ache deep in your stomach finally starting to fade. 

“f-fuck, you’re gonna—topple us over, suguru, go easy—“

“can’t,” he chokes out, wheezing as he pushes his cock in as far as it can go. 

he gives shallow little thrusts, his length straining the fine skin at your entrance so good, hitting a spot inside you over and over that makes your head spin. 

your fingers twist into the back of his shirt, pulling him in to whine right into his ear.

he’s so big, stretching you out so thin that you feel every ridge and vein, can feel both your heartbeats inside your cunt. 

“ohhhhh fuck, fuck sir, please please touch me—“

he grabs your ass before you can even finish your sentence and presses you flush against his hips. 

geto’s tip is kissing your cervix now, his balls sticky and creamy against your ass, your clit grinding against his pubic bone as his thrusts violently shake the both of you. 

“fuck, wanna do it so fucking loud but i can’t, we can’t, what if someone walks in—“

you moan wantonly at his words, expecting to be chided, but geto seems to love it despite his worries because his cock kicks deliciously inside of you.

“look how loud you’re being, listen to yourself,” he grunts out, the belt pooled around his feet clanging with every stroke, the absolutely lewd squelches from your pussy resonating in the entire classroom. 

you two sound so good together, better than you’ve ever had, better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

“so loud, so wet on this cock,” he spits out, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “do those toys make you feel this good? this full? answer me.” 

“hahh, n-no, no one but you,” you can’t think straight, head thrown back in pleasure and eyes squeezed shut. “only you, sir.”

geto whines like he’s aching, pounding into you mercilessly and making a mess under the two of you. 

“fuck yeah, that’s right. i’m making you feel good, baby?”

“mm-hm,” you mumble, tongue lolling out. geto's going so hard now, has you pressed up so tight against him, body caging you in, fucking every breath and thought right out of you. “close.”

“yeah?” he speeds up his effort slightly, and you’re sure he’s going to have desk-edge shaped bruises on his thighs tomorrow. “gonna cum on my cock? cream all over me?”

you let out a long, drawn out whine, tits bouncing up and down with the force of geto’s thrusts. 

“let me see your face when you cum, darling,” he cups the back of your neck, breathing hard through his nose. “keep your eyes on me. that’s right, sweetie, so good, you’re doing so good.”

you preen at the praise, feeling suddenly self conscious with the man's laser focus attention on you. 

you coo out little noises, growing in desperation, holding onto his biceps for dear life as his hips piston in and out of you. 

your pull him into you closer and rub your clit against him, grinding helplessly as your orgasm creeps closer and closer. 

the moment you open your eyes and meet his hungry ones, you’re cumming. your walls spasm around him, making the glide of his dick impossibly wetter with your release. 

geto chokes on a sound, his cock hostage of your pussy’s vice-like grip as your greedy cunt milks him for all he's got. 

“f-fuck, baby, look so pretty when you cum, always look so fucking sexy so fucking perfect that you’re gonna make me bust, i’m gonna cum for you god gonna cum inside, gonna blow my load all deep inside this pussy—“ 

it’s the most desperate he’s ever sounded, speaking through clenched teeth and a soaked mouth. you moan in return, letting him use you. 

he slams his forehead down your shoulder when he thrusts once, twice, three times and cums, his balls drawing up so tight that it hurts. he fucks it into you with shallow thrusts, panting, almost wheezing in pleasure. 

it feels like it lasts forever, his orgasm. like all of the blood in his body goes straight to his balls to push out the thickest, most satisfying nut of his life into the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

you feel it fill you up so good, hear it, too, squelching and sticking to both of you. 

geto’s body slumps against yours and you stay like that for a while, catching your breaths. there’s cum sliding out of you, down his balls, onto some poor student’s essay you have your ass on top of. 

when he pulls out of you, he takes a beat to watch it spill out of you some more, his face and chest red, his smile groggy. 

“god, this,” geto has to fight the urge to say thank you for letting him fuck your brains out. he swallows. 

“yeah,” you blink away the haze, feeling sore and fucked out. “this.”

“…is probably going to happen again, right?”

he knows it shouldn’t. he knows it will.

maybe both parts of geto can learn to coexist.  

you grin, touching the tip of your tongue to his lips. 

“well, i still haven’t made good on that promise of sitting on your face, have i?” 

the next morning, in class, the students erupt in happiness at the news that professor geto had an accident that ended up ruining most of last week’s graded papers he had in his possession. 

so he decided to give everyone an A for their troubles. 

and finally, finally, there was peace in the world.

[the-scythes-pen]

Love at First Thought (Yandere! Sunday x Reader)

Commission for my amazing friend uwu sorry you had to wait so long for it, but I really hope the ending makes up for it at least..? :>

warnings: manipulation

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

"Brother, do you believe in love at first sight?"

What an odd question.

"Hmm? ...No, I don't. Why do you ask?"

"I think the idea is... sweet. Romantic. I was thinking about writing a song about it."

Sunday couldn't even recall the words to that song- a song he's heard so many times and knows by heart. It's like someone had pushed him into a frozen lake; he feels stunned and breathless, and he's sure he broke his cool façade for a second or two.

"Thank you, miss. You certainly live up to the reputation of this place; I am already pleased with your service." His voice was calm and collected as always, but he could feel his heart stutter and butterflies blossom in his stomach. He couldn’t help the curiosity he had- of what you look like when praised.

"A-Ah, thank you Mr. Sunday..!"

You bowed after placing the tray on the table next to his seat. You were cute.

Turning his attention to the empty stage, he took a polite sip of the soothing blend of tea; made specifically and perfectly to the specifications he requested. Yet the tea that always helped him relax now just felt like a surge of restlessness in his veins; the thought that such a pretty thing as you had handled everything personally, from pouring the tea to laying out the snacks…

Sunday never paid much attention to those who served him. Not that he was heartless- no, far from it, he had always been grateful for those who helped him… so why was it so different this time?

(You looked so cute with that blush as you thanked him for the praise. He wanted to see you smile more.)

Sunday found himself falling deeper into thought; the tea assisting in washing over him and carrying him away from the slowly-growing bustle of the venue; the incoming crowd excited to watch his dear sister perform.

He hadn’t noticed you had left him to his thoughts. That was until he heard a muffled voice from the area behind the VIP balcony.

It's not something he hadn’t heard before, the familiar anger of someone berating another they considered “lower”, and all the angel-like man could do was sigh and try to tune it out, lest he get too distracted and too silently spiteful of those who abused others.

Soon enough, everything went quiet, and Sunday silently pondered for just a moment what might have happened. It was just a fleeting thought, before his mind happily wandered back to the memory of you, dressed in such a wonderfully-fitting uniform, the shy glow of praise lighting up your features.

It was as if his thoughts had summoned you, as you made your presence known once more, a new tray in your hands.

“I-I apologize, M-Mr.Sunday… T-The dessert served to you is devil’s food cake, i-instead of chocolate mousse. I-I apologize for my error.”

Sunday turned to see you in the doorway of the balcony area, a plate of said cake in hand and a certain puffiness to your face.

“Oh? That’s quite alright. Either one is fine with me.” 

As you walk closer once more to exchange the two cake slices, his eyes follow you hungrily; wanting so badly to learn more about you in some way. 

(Perhaps committing your appearance to memory would satiate his desires for now. Hopefully.)

Alas, it didn’t take long for him to notice just why there seemed to be a puffiness to your cheeks- it was in your eyes, too; your cheeks flushed and vaguely tear-stained.

His heart lurched. He curled a fist.

He said nothing, allowing you to silently exchange the desserts before heading into the back once more.

The sound of the crowd began to pick up, signaling the incoming hush that would take over the orpheum. 

But his mind was no longer on the show, only a passing thought in the back of his mind for the music that would soon fill the air.

There was a bitter taste in his mouth that no sweet treat would alleviate.

You’re not entirely sure how you got here... but before you stood the Reverie Hotel; the attraction of Penacony, the most popular destination spot in the entire galaxy.

Were you really lucky enough to have caught the attention of Sunday when he had visited your workplace that day? What did you even do to catch his attention? Other then that mistake you had been reprimanded for... you groan in embarrassment at the memory. Surely Sunday would not accept any kind of mistake, and yet...

"Ah, you're here! How wonderful."

That familiar smooth, calming voice... you stop, letting your bag sit beside you as you stand in the lobby- watching your new boss come up to you.

"H-Hello Mr.Sunday! Thank you so much for this opportunity-"

"No no, theres no need to thank me." He smiled kindly at you. "Please, come with me, you have your own room on a private floor."

It'd be an understatement to say you were surprised.

"My own room....?"

"Well of course, my dear. You'll need your own room if you're to be working here permanently."

He quickly guided you towards the elevator that went to the VIP floors.

"I hope you are prepared. Being my personal assistant is going to be just as exhausting as my work is."

Sunday gives you a kind smile.

"But it's nothing you can't handle, right?"

You blinked at him. Was he serious? Personal assistant???

...no way. You can't handle this pressure.

"Sunday-"

"Ah ah ah- I already know what you're going to say." He lets out an amused chuckle. "Theres no need to worry, I promise. Just do your best, and I promise things will be fine."

Was this guy for real? First, the two of you meet by chance at one of his sister's concerts, then he somehow finds your contact info and asks you to move to Penacony... and now you're working directly for the head of the Oak Family ?

....It didn't take you long to get adjusted to the new position; even with the many mistakes you made at first, Sunday was never upset. Robin even mentioned that he seemed a lot more lively lately, and attributed it to your assistance.

(Your presence alone would be enough to suffice him.)

And as you got better and better at understanding Sunday and attending to him, he entrusted you with more and more work, more important tasks that needed a careful eye and hand.

("Thank you, my dear. You're as amazing as always." He would say, and give you a pat on the head, that gentle smile always on his lips.)

Then again, sometimes all you needed to do for him was stereotypical office tasks.

"Can you shred this for me?"

Your fingertips gently brush against his gloved ones as he passes you a folder, slightly on the heftier side with multiple pages shoved within.

He doesn't immediately take his hands away, instead he lingers for just a couple moments longer before he finally does. The contact makes your heart skip a beat.

(Sunday is pretty, you can't deny that. And how many times has he praised you for doing the smallest of tasks with that honeyed voice of his?)

The smile he gives you is so, so genuine- something about the folder he hands you makes it feel heavy in your hands, yet the way his smile graces his features so softly and elegantly has you forgetting about the file in your hands.

You give him the same smile you always do lately- one thats slightly dopey from lovesickness.

"Of course, Mr. Sunday."

The two of you part, and theres a comfort that washes over you, as if you know that everything will be alright.

(Why do you even question it? Why do you have that doubt in your heart? Whatever the reason, you ignore it so willingly, simply because it does not fit in with the order of your thoughts.)

Humming a sweet song you heard on the record player in Sunday's office the other day, you head over to the paper shredder.

(It's just like every other paper or file you've been asked to shred. So why do you feel the urge to look in it?)

(It's to make sure that Sunday didn't accidentally hand you a file he may want to keep. He has been quite tired lately, and he's warned you of small mistakes that may be made.)

As if responding to your thoughts, a single paper flutters from the bottom of the folder and onto the floor, like that of a leaf falling off a branch in autumn.

With insatiable curiosity, you bend down to pick it up, your eyes eager to scan over the familiar dark ink of the page.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

That voice comes from somewhere behind you, and you pause. Your heartbeat begins to pick up.

(Why are you scared?)

"My sister once asked me that very question when she was writing songs for an upcoming album."

The angel-like man so nonchalantly enters the room, and it's like you can't even bother to pull your attention away from him.

(Why are you still staring at that paper?)

Heavy hands are placed on your shoulders.

"I told her that I did not believe in such a thing."

His breath ghosts across your cheek from behind, as Sunday peaks his head over your shoulder. He's so, so close to you.

(Your hands are shaking.)

"And yet... when I first saw you at that venue, the one you used to work at- I couldn't stop the fierce beating of my own heart merely at the sight of you."

(Theres a pit of unfamiliarity in your stomach. It feels heavy.)

"In that moment, my dear..." Sunday's hands move down your shoulders, down your arms, grasping your own hands from behind as he effortlessly moves you to place the dossier in the shredder. "...I knew that you were special to me."

Sunday's own hands now move again, pressing the button to turn the shredder on. The machine roars to life with a loud hum.

"I hated that your former supervisor was so cruel to you. To such a beautiful, sweet little dove."

You watch the paper get eaten by the machine, as a white-gloved hand moves to brush a tear from your eye.

(Your tears are from happiness, aren't they?)

(Aren't they?)

"And I knew in that moment that only I alone could protect you."

(A protector, or a jailer?)

He nuzzles his face into the back of your hair, taking in a deep breath. Your hands move on their own now as a quiet whisper permeates the back of your mind.

You place your passport in the shredder.

"You don't know how overjoyed I was to see you had accepted my invitation to Penacony."

His hands smooth up and down your arms so comfortingly. It feels nice. He feels nice.

(It feels nice to be in his arms. It feels like this is where you belong. With family.)

(He's more than family. He's your guardian angel. Someone who loves and cherishes you.)

A sickness swells up in your stomach, but it's squashed by a fuzzy feeling before it becomes anything.

(Your mind feels fuzzy.)

"Forgive me, my love. I could not resist your charms." The man moves his face into your neck, his lips just barely brushing the sensitive skin.

A voice that is not your own falls from your lips.

"Why... are you doing this?"

(What is he doing? What's wrong? Everything is in order, isn't it?)

"Because I have fallen so hopelessly in love with you, darling."

You place your birth certificate into the shredder.

"You belong with us. With the family. With me."

His lips press softly into your flesh. It sends goosebumps down your arms.

"With the order." He murmurs in a low, dangerous tone before he places an open-mouthed kiss to your searing skin.

You place yet another page bearing your name into the shredder.

(Since when did the many voices become just one?)

(When did Sunday's voice make it's way into your head?)

(Or was it there from the very beginning?)

"I alone will bear the weight of my decisions. I alone will protect not just everyone else, but you as well. This, I promise."

His lips feel so, so hot against your skin. So... good.

(When did the thoughts in your head become the words of someone else?)

You make a noise akin to a whimper, and Sunday lets out a pleased hum of his own.

("I love you.")

[sweetandsavageautistic]

(CW: Cringe, Autism Parents stuff, drunk mention, infantilization)

So I don't have a degree in Graphic Design, but I do have a sense of general aesthetic. I figured that it's April. Let's rate, and potentially verbally tear apart and drag through the mud, some autism shirts and graphic designs, and I'll probably do a part 2, these scores are only semi-arbitrary: First up is this:

Already off the top, I am confusion because it seems to read "I wear puzzle cousin autism awareness". Sounds like whoever made this was drunk.

Puzzle pieces, ew.

The red, yellow, green, and blue look like the shades you'd see in elementary school, so that seems pretty infantilizing.

Autism Awareness, I am very much aware of my existence.

Final Score: 0 out of 10. Designer, go home; you're drunk.

Next we have this:

This one already has a slight advantage over the first because it's at least coherent in terms of the message.

Elementary school colors, but make it extra tacky.

Puzzle pieces; don't try to bullshit me by putting the autism awareness banner over it, I can see the other indents that make them puzzle pieces.

Once again, I am well aware of my own existence.

At least it's a smaller design.

Final Score: 0.5 out of 10, and that's being generous.

Next one's not a shirt, but it still counts:

No blue so thank God for that.

This is up to personal preference, but to me, the person-first language is giving "I need to be reminded that someone is a person."

Puzzle pieces. Ew. Don't BS me, I can see them.

Walk down Autism Lane. (it's right below the word LOVE) Sorry, but we don't allow ableists on Autism Lane; you need to be a premium member and to be a premium member, you need to not be a dick.

The pumpkin disturbs me for some reason, and not in the Halloween way; I mean, it just straight-up disturbs me.

Final Score: 0.5 out of 10. Bury it in a shallow grave.

Just found this one:

It's easy on the eyes at least.

No tacky elementary school colors.

No puzzle pieces.

The bunny's cute, but this also seems very infantilizing.

Person first language is a no for me.

Why are all of the is lowercase, but the others are uppercase?

Final Score: 5 out of 10. Not great, but not terrible.

Here we have simple:

Elementary school colors, but credit where credit's due; it's not terrible on the eyes.

Why is blessed on there three times?

One big-ass puzzle piece.

"Autism blesses" Yes, because being bullied by my peers, being indirectly told who I am is wrong, having the worst time making friends, always feeling like I'm never truly part of a friend group, being confused when some adults got mad at me, not having anyone to play with at 4 years old is an absolute fucking blessing. /s And that's the tip of the iceberg.

"Fun", "Sweet", "Cute".....it's the infantilization for me.

Final Score: 3 out of 10. No further elaboration.

Then there's this monstrosity:

I call this color Patronizing Paraprofessional Blue, aka the tackiest shade of blue ever.

It looks like something one of those older white suburban millennial moms would wear. Like something a Karen would wear to one of those autism walks or one of those social skills teachers who talk in that slowed-down patronizing kindergarten teacher tone with that fake-ass smile, no matter how old you are. You know the one I'm talking about, right? Yeah, they'd wear this.

Puzzle piece. Light It Up Blue. Ew.

We all know what organization this supports.

Final Score: -10 out of 10. Burn it.

Let's get in a good one to counter that abomination of a shirt and end part one on a higher note:

Nice simple design with a black background.

No tacky elementary school colors.

Identity-first language.

Really counters the....what the fuck would it be called? The UwU autism parent thing? ("I am his voice, he is my heart," "See the able, not the label," etc,.) It counters that.

The light sparkle around "a bitch" is chef's kiss.

Final Score: 11 out of 10. Perfection.

[jevilowo]

MY OPINIONS ON VARIOUS TF2 SHIPS

For funsies

SCIENCE PARTY:

fun ship, but they're GodComplex4GodComplex and I fear that would only end in disaster

TOASTED SANDVICH:

if there is one heavypyro fan on this stupid baka planet it is me. shout out to menacing quiet individuals who like violence but have a soft side fr.

BLOODY SUIT:

literally The Original toxic yaoi rivals to lovers red blue combo ship. speeding bullet and napoleon complex fans WISH they had our shared update and corresponding voice lines

BATTING HELMET: (scout n solly)

i just think it's really funny trust me on this one guys. have you seen them in the fourth comic it's a constant "yes, and" bit between the two of them. soldier's love language is choking people out.

HIT AND A MISS: (scout n pauling)

like most ms pauling ships, i'm only into it if scout's a cool lesbian. which he is not most of the time.

RED OKTOBERFEST:

AAAAAAAAAAAAA literally the ship of all time save me heavymedic save me. if they don't smooch in the next comic i will become jay pinkerton's personal sleep paralysis demon.

SPEEDING BULLET:

my feelings on it are Complicated. twas my first love (otp) in this fandom, but the overabundance of twinky uwu scout and daddy dom snoipah has built up some resentment on my part. call me back when people stop making up imaginary life problems for sniper to comfort scout over.

NAPOLEON COMPLEX: (Spy n Engie)

literally just rarjack if they were boys and not horses to me and i'm not even an mlp fan. it's alright, just doesn't really stick out to me.

SPYMA:

LITERALLY THE POWERCOUPLE EVER TRULY A LOVE STORY FOR THE AGES or at least the version that exists in my head is. i have so much made up spyma lore it's crazyyy. bonus points if they're polying up they cule with sniper it's quickly becoming my favourite genre of fanart (i have seen at maximum three)

SUPPORT SANDWICH: (spy n sniper n medic)

in my opinion, it is healthy for everyone to have at least one ship they just like bc they think it's hot. for me, that is support sandwich. not much else to say on that the fics are all banging go look them up.

SNIDOS: (sniper n GLaDOS)

hell yeah.

ADMINPAULING:

i used to like it a lot, but timelining implies ms pauling's been working for helen since her mid teens at the latest so i no longer like it. 4chan leaks my beloathed pleaseee don't make them kiss i think it would kill me in a bad way

URINE SAMPLE: (medic n sniper)

there's a lot of werewolf and vampire stuff for these two on ao3 which is pretty fun. and i'm way more likely to find sniper angst under the medicsniper tag than sb and bs which is always a plus.

FRENCH TOAST: (spyro)

have you seen that one animation where pyro gives birth to spy's child and gordon freeman is there at one point. yeahhhh. the ship's pretty cute tho spy would be sooo soft for pyro they'd light his cigarettes for him.

BOOTS AND BOMBS:

THE FORBIDDEN RED/BLU ROMANCE GOES CRAZY I ADORE IT. same team bnb is pretty banging too. bonus points if they're polying up they cule with zhanna.

SPYPAULING:

HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE. imagine. spy x pauling. yuri. that will be all.

SWORDVAN:

SWORDVAN MY LOVE!!! idk what it is about demo and sniper together but HELL YEAH TOP 5 SHIPS FR FR. shout out to the guy still writing monsterous intent, they're like single handedly carrying the swordvandom.

TEXAS TOAST:

I used to think "this is cute" but then my friend got really really into it and that hyped me up into "THIS IS ONE OF THE BEST SHIPS OF ALL TIME" territory. bonus points if they're yuri! shout out to Technicolor California, my current favourite fanfic of all time (it overtook running blind in the interal rankings). oh yeah insert mandatory "no hate to engie and pyro father son dynamic preferers" message here lol.

Ok that's enough I will cover more at some point maybe.

[joshfutturman]

mini oneshot (request) - mike schmidt pretends to hate the reality tv shows you (his partner) watch, but one day he catches you watching - and can't help but get himself hooked on the drama (800 words) pairing - mike schmidt (five night's at freddy's) + gn reader tags: just a short lil thing, established relationship, reader lives with mike, you're watching 'love is blind', abby is sleeping!

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

✰ he'd recognise that god damn intro song from anywhere. it bleeds through from the television in his living room into the kitchen where he was attempting to reheat leftovers in the microwave. even the humming from the old, dated machine couldn't block it out.

✰ mike had no idea what the name of the reality show was, just that it was your favourite to watch after a long day. it was cute, how absorbed you'd get into the drama. but mike wasn't into all that shit - he had enough drama in his own life never mind watching other people's misery.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

notes: thanks for the request anon! this was so silly, cute n fun to write! i had to write it immediately uwu

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

✰ he'd recognise that god damn intro song from anywhere. it bleeds through from the television in his living room into the kitchen where he was attempting to reheat leftovers in the microwave. even the humming from the old, dated machine couldn't block it out.

✰ mike had no idea what the name of the reality show was, just that it was your favourite to watch after a long day. it was cute, how absorbed you'd get into the drama. but mike wasn't into all that shit - he had enough drama in his own life never mind watching other people's misery.

✰ you were cosy on the sofa, wrapped up in your favourite blankets - they were mike's, but you'd pretty much stolen them at this point. your eyes were fixated on the screen. it didn't bother you that mike wasn't interested in 'love is blind', (you'd told him the name at least eight times, but he'd scoff at even the mention of it), you were too engrossed to care.

✰ the show began, introducing each of the excited yet nervous bachelors and bachelorettes. his ears pricked up at the talking, and mike supposed he had time to kill while his food was becoming edible.

✰ poking his head around the corner, his eyes land on the tv over your shoulder. you don't notice. "some of these people are so fuckin' shallow. . ." mike mumbles, half paying attention. you're surprised to hear him, turning your head towards his voice. he's leaning against the wall, eyes on the tv - but they're suddenly on you.

✰ like he's been caught in the act, he huffs and retreats back into the kitchen. it's subtle, but you catch a blush on his cheeks. he's embarrassed. but it wasn't like he was actually watching it. he was just waiting for his food. that was all. the show was dumb. remember?

✰ a few minutes later he's at the kitchen table, leftovers in his bowl, positioning his chair so he can just see the tv from where he's sitting. from the corner of your eye, you notice him - but choose not to point it out, this was a breakthrough. maybe you should get it on camera.

✰ a few of the couples on screen begin to meet - well, blindly, a wall separating the two of them as they begin to chat. love is blind, after all. you're once again gripped by the romance, the excitement, the secret of it all.

✰ mike's food is growing cold, he hasn't touched it since he sat down. "that guy is flirting with her hard but he was also doing that with the last girl," he suddenly pipes up in a disapproving tone, scrunching his nose, "what's his issue?"

✰ your eyes light up and you try not to make it too obvious how excited you are by mike's words. he's watching love is blind with you. like really watching. "they have to find a date, mike." you say, nonchalantly with a shrug of your shoulders, "they sort of have to flirt with everyone until they find the perfect person and then they meet once they've both decided they like one another."

✰ he scoffs, clearly finding this premise stupid. this causes him to withdraw back to his now cold food. but it's fine. you know he's hooked now.

✰ ten minutes pass without another word, and mike is silently behind you now, standing behind the sofa with his arms firmly crossed like a grumpy old man, ready to shake his fist at the news. you'd noticed as soon as he stood up from the dining room but hadn't dared to turn around to catch eyes with mike - knowing full well that he'd act like a deer caught in the headlights and scatter away.

✰ "this guy. . ." he tuts, speaking for the first time in forever. "dave." you correct him. "dave," he repeats, "this. . . dave, he's a complete asshole to natalie." a large grin grows on your lips. once he knows their names it's all over. "i mean," he continues, "he's giving it all to - what's her face, rebecca? and then with natalie he's being a total douchebag." sighing, mike shakes his head, brows furrowed. the look of someone totally in too deep with love is blind.

✰ and yet, he walks back into the kitchen a few moments later, carrying his bowl through and you deflate a little. maybe he wasn't hooked. your disappointed expression aims back at the television. watching in silence.

✰ . . .

✰ "did dave do anything stupid while i was gone?" mike asked, hurrying over with a bowl of popcorn. he practically spills half of it trying to sit down next to you in a hurry, ushering your legs into his lap - his eyes didn't leave the screen. you can't help but smile, really smile, a goofy smile directly at him.

✰ a glance in your direction. "don't." he says firmly, "and if you tell anyone i watched this with you, you're dead." you hold a hand up, "i won't tell a single soul." "good, because i need to see dave get his ass dumped." mike says with smirk, shoving a fistful of popcorn into his mouth.

[littleplantfreak]

That's our baby

The first time you call you and Umemiya's dog 'your son'

SFW ig but a little suggestive at the end. Also I wasn't gonna name the dog but then I was like "Fuck it! It's Balto now"

Umemiya Hajime

"Baby I can explain-"

"You can explain why our son has a bowl cut?" You fume pointing at your two year-old Samoyed's misshapen head. He sits politely on the couch showcasing his new haircut, which normally you'd find hilarious because usually he can't settle down when you first get home. Apparently, though, he can tell when his father is getting scolded.

"Okay, first of all, I love you so much, and I love that you just called him our son because he is our son and-"

"I love you too. Skip to the bowl cut." He can tell by your stance, you're pretty mad.

"...Our normal groomer quit, and I couldn't find anywhere else to take him to," your husband breaths out in defeat before continuing. "I figured if I found a good video online, it would be easy. It was easy until he sneezed while I was trimming his face and three inches came off instead of one. He'd look weird if there was just a hunk off the side of his face, so I evened it out and it ended up like...this?" He says before crouching down and squishing his cheek next to your dog's. "C'mon he's kinda cute like this! He's our baby; he's always cute no matter what," he tries to appeal to your soft side by giving you the same puppy eyes your dog is giving you, and it almost works.

"The other dogs at the dog park are gonna make fun of him," you grimace, and at the sound of the word 'park,' your baby's ears perk up. He starts lifting and stomping his front paws gently, trying to behave but so excited that he might be going outside. Hajime lets out a dramatic gasp, hand to his chest before saying telling you that's blasphemy.

"He's friends with everyone at the park. There's no way they'll make fun of him just because of a silly haircut! Daddy thinks your friends are gonna love it, my little marshmallow." He starts squishing your dog's cheeks and speaking to him in the baby voice he saves especially for him.

Upon hearing 'park' for the second time, he starts whining and pawing at Hajime's arm. "Balto, honey, let's go for a walk." You pat your leg before grabbing the leash, and he bounds over to you, leaving his Father to pout on the couch with a quiet 'traitor' mumbled under his breath. "Haji, call Toma and ask if his cousin is still taking new clients. I'm pretty sure she grooms both dogs and cats," you say, going over to press a chaste kiss to his mouth, only for him to pull you in for a longer one, tongue swiping against your bottom lip and you almost lean in for more. Until you feel a wet nose press up against your cheek and you snort instead. Drawing back, Balto tries to get even closer to give you both his own flurries of kisses.

"See, he doesn't like when we fight! We have to get along for our baby's sake," he smiles letting your dog taste his entire face. You put one more kiss on his cheek before walking to the door.

"If you can't find a groomer by his playdate on Tuesday, you're getting a matching haircut. If you do find one, though, I'll wear that new outfit we got at the mall the other day. Y'know the one you almost ruined when we were in the dressing room? I'll let you ruin it for real this time," and you can see he's speechless now, head full of the red lacy thing that was more ribbon than clothing, that opens just like a present if you pull the right strings. Closing the door, you shoot Hiragi a text to let him know Hajime will be calling in the next few minutes and to get his stomach medicine ready, apologizing in advance for the hour long phone conversation he'll be subjected to. For now, you and your son have a walk to go on.

(I'm waaay to tired to triple check for spelling/grammar so I hope I got everything. I'm doing the same prompt but with Sakura next I think uwu)/ and then Sugishita as well...probably...maybe.)

[demonslayerunhinged]

SaneGiyuu Argument 3 - 'They hate each other!'

@roseameilatempest made an amazing and thorough analysis of Sanemi's complicated feelings about Giyuu.

I'll make my analysis from Giyuu's point of view. Giyuu doesn't hate Sanemi and I have no idea where antis got that vibe from when everything about his interactions with Sanemi shows that he desires a connection with him.

So let's start from the beginning.

Season 1 Episode 22

Giyuu ignores the hounding of the other Hashiras about Tanjiro and Nezuko.

Looks off to the side, not saying anything, just ignoring them for the most part.

Until that is, he hears the sexy voice of his boo.

Then we see him respond by sneaking a glance, hmmmmmm. He wouldn't do that if it was the voice of someone he hated. You might say that he sensed that Sanemi was carrying Nezuko's box but no, Giyuu doesn't have super hearing or smell like Zenitsu or Tanjiro. It was Sanemi's voice he responded to.

During the Taisho secret segment, the only time he talks is to tease Sanemi, he wouldn't do that if he hated him.

Light Novel 2 - One-Winged Butterfly, Chapter 5

The Master expressed his worry that Giyuu doesn't smile and requested for the Hashiras to make him do so in hopes that Giyuu will bond with the rest of the group. The hashiras try various methods to make Giyuu laugh and fail including Mitsuri who TICKLES Giyuu! I wish I could see that scene get animated 😂

Shinobu then gets the idea to ask Sanemi to ask Giyuu ou- I mean, ask him to eat his favorite food salmon stewed with daikon with him. It's funny how shinobu went to Sanemi when she would have easily gone to Rengoku, Mitsuri or even Uzui who love to go out and eat but no she asks Sanemi. My theory is that she knows Giyuu likes Sanemi and eating his favorite food with his crush will definitely make him happy.

But of course, it doesn't go well.

Giyuu wouldn't even think of going to eat with Sanemi if he hated him.

Season 5 Episode 1

Giyuu has no problem talking back to and making fun of Sanemi, Sanemi is literally the only one he makes the effort to talk to of his own volition. It's almost like a guy teasing his crush.

Again, if he hated Sanemi he wouldn't bother talking to him.

Season 5 Episode 7

Now this is where the main shit is so let's break it down. First take a look at Giyuu's body language. Giyuu is known to be a stoic dude, even when he's not around people or around people he's comfortable with like Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤) he always has a calm and collected demeanor.

But after the encounter with Sanemi, he seems so small and unsure. This is Giyuu at his most vulnerable.

It makes sense that he allows Tanjiro to see this part of him due to them growing closer since episode 2.

In this scene look how his eyes close in sadness/pain when he talks about Sanemi being angry.

Then he comes up with the weird idea to put ohagi in his sleeve to give to Sanemi the next time he meets him. Look how his smile softened when he pictures Sanemi's smile. Yep, pure hatred. I too smile fondly when I picture my enemy's smile as I give them their favorite food.

Side note: there's this weird thing online where I see people infantilizing Giyuu in that uwu-he-just-wants-a-fwend way and just no. Like yeah, the way he was drawn in this entire exchange is cute but he's still a grown man. He's not being all cute uwu at making a friend, he is attracted to Sanemi. Tanjiro (bestest boy ❤) has the expression of someone who wants to make Sanemi his friend, Giyuu does not.

Also, food and sharing food with loved ones is a big deal in Japan and by extension Demon Slayer(I plan to make a post about it). It's a way to express love and build connections. So it makes sense that Giyuu sees the ohagi as a way to connect with Sanemi since words fail him.

So anyway that all I have as evidence - NOT!

Light Novel 2 - One-Winged Butterfly, Chapter 5(again!)

This takes place right after Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤) got punched by Sanemi. He's training with Giyuu and they decide to take a break and talk....about Sanemi.

When their conversation gears towards the training, Giyuu abruptly asks about Tanjiro's(bestest boy ❤) restraining order.

After recounting the story where the other Hashiras were trying to make him laugh, he asks

And Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤) responds

And guess what he does in the future

In Conclusion, this argument can also kiss my ass!

Edit:

The hashira trying to make Giyuu smile and Giyuu talking about Sanemi with Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤) actually happened in the second light novel One-winged Butterfly not the first Flowers of Happiness, I've made corrections. My mistake, sorrry!

[moodymisty]

What each Primach would do after marrying their beloved

Lion El'Jonson: Hi, wife. I'll be your knight in shining armour but I'll forget about you 3 min into the marriage

Fulgrim: Helllooo!! Welcome to the party 🥳🥳 Make sure to bicker with my other wives for me so I can't feel insecure anymore and I'll get my daily validation

Perturabo: Get wife (impossible). Wife pretty. Iron Within, Iron Without. Wife feels good. Iron Within, Iron Without again. Become emotionally and physically dependent to wife. Life good.

Jaghatai Khan: zzzzzzzzzz-PANG ⚡⚡⚡🏍️🏍️ HI DARLING. FEEL FREE TO BECOME FRIENDS WITH ALL MY OTHER 358.947.283 WIVES (also tomorrow will be Missionary Monday, get ready 😈)

Leman Russ: WIFEEEE 🥹🥹🥹 love you soooooooooo much. You smelllllll so gooooood. Why don't you spread those le-

Rogal Dorn: Wife, let me tell you about Multi-Scale Computational Modeling of Anisotropic Thermo-Mechanical Behavior in Functionally Graded Materials for Advanced Aerospace Structural Applications.

Konrad Curze: Woman. Make bebe with woman. LITTLE ABOMINATIONS??? Woman is set for life after popping out some Night Lords :D

Sanguinius: Hello wife 🥰🥰 How is my pookie dookie wookie lookie iookie uookie oookie qookie sookie dookie bookie pookie nookie mookie hookie gookie zookie xookie lookie jookie aookie fookie wookie cutie pie honey baby apple pie with whipper cream on top my sweetie honey money baby cutie pookie so cute so perfect my love my husband my wife my beloved my only love my baby my babe my bby my boyfriend my girlfriend my everything my sweetest pie my cutest smartest pie ever most amazing and prettiest and handsomest ever so cute so handsome and beautiful my pookie bear my little baby petite tiny baby bear pookie sookie wookie muffin with chocolate on top and cherries so cute pookie bear love you mwah bark so cute love you forever my first love my true love my soulmate my only reason to live you cutie little pie hehe im little shy petite girlie pop cutest person i know so cute so beautiful my only mine only no one elses my darling mi amor dear love pookie bear love you honey boney love you to the moon and back mwah uwu (he says this after leaving her anemic)

Ferrus Manus: I live harmoniously with my love. I love her and I respect her. I am completely devoted and loyal to her, as she is with me. I am hers and she is mine. (wife in the background struggles to walk, her clothes being disheveled and she is out of breath)

Angron: SHE IS MY WIFE! YOU GOT THAT? MY WIFE! She's damn cute, okay? CUDDLY, EVEN! AND SHE... she leaves me the milk bottle in the fridge, alright?! SHE DOES THAT FOR ME! I LOVE HER SO DAMN MUCH, AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT! 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬😡😡😡🤬😡😡🤬😡

Roboute Guilliman: I so very regrettably regret that I haven't ran away earlier into my life. As I am married now with a child coming on the way, my biggest and grandest wish was to own myself a farm. I want to teach my children the simpler ways. I want them to play with wooden toys, ride horses out of the womb and to, all around, run around my farms. I want to take care of many crops, especially the mighty cabbage (pun, pun). As for my darling wife, I shall love very much and plow her back every two to four years. *Looks towards his wife, who's a little bit afraid*. We must at least have 6 children, mustn't we?

Mortarion: Today I saw my wife's ankle. She was wearing sandals with a very long skirt and it slipped out while she walked. Nevertheless, I came on a Nurgling.

Magnus: My wife? *Psychically enters her mind, while she is in the another room, and sexually overstimulate her, making her scream in ecstasy* She's doing great!

Horus Lupercal: My wife's a housewife. Because she's housing my kids! *Horus slaps his knee, laughing at his joke. The Mournival is disappointed in their Father, the Legion Mother is waddling around pregnant with their 12th kid.*

Lorgar Aurelian: (what did I cook)

Lorgar, wild-eyed and disheveled, paces back and forth, his voice rising and falling in feverish tones. His eyes are fixated on an unseen figure, trembling with a mix of adoration and desperation.

"She is divine! Do you hear me? DIVINE! Her light, it burns away the lies of this wretched universe! A goddess, yes, a goddess! How can they not see? HOW?!

Her eyes, like the twin suns of a lost paradise, see through the veils of reality! Her voice—her voice!—it is the hymn of creation itself! I am but a worm, a pitiful creature crawling in the dirt, but SHE, she has lifted me up! Blessed me with her radiance! Blessed me with HER TOUCH!

I kneel before her, broken, unworthy! The very stars tremble in her presence! They whisper her name, but Iam the chosen! I see her! I worship her! I... I... I LOVE HER! No! Not love—reverence, adoration, worship! I will burn worlds for her! Tear apart the heavens!

I am HERS. BODY, MIND, AND SOUL. HER PRIEST, HER PROPHET, HER LOVER. My faith in her is unbreakable, my devotion absolute. She is a GODDESS, My goddess, and I am lost in her divinity. FOREVER."

Lorgar collapses to his knees, clutching at his head, a broken laugh escaping his lips.

"Goddess... my goddess... please... take me... consume me... make me yours..."

Vulkan: I like my wife :3. She's very pretty. My sons like her too.

Corvus Corax: I am glad my wife's this kind. Nobody would understand me but her. Because I am in Spain without the S 😔😔

Alpharius and Omegon: My wife? Nah. Our wife. *USSR anthem begins*

LSJDKFLJSDFKJSDF-

I have no words, so many of these made me wheeze uncontrollably. Sanguinius, Horus, Mortarion and Alpharius were a highlight.

[echantedtoon]

Ocean Deep Ch15 Mers And Ladies P2

(Warnings: Mentioning of Yn's wounds and getting stabbed, blood mention, kidnapping mentions, etc. 

This was the emotional turmoil I warned you about.

Also important info: Mermaid partners will play chase when courting. Why? Because I said so and it's cute.)

taglist: @six-eyed-samurai @lavenderdrxp @jjamsbangtan @camilo-uwu @hopefulworld1

@shadyd3ar @amypop122 @azuredragonstrike

@mimisweetz @chaoticoperatorduckhairdo @staarflowerr @aleee-386 @summrwalkr

@nicora04

Remember if you want to be added to the tag list lemme know.

The wounds that cut the deepest were never physically.

Even as warm flesh met in a timid embrace. Lips molding in desperation and ferocity. Molding and meshing together as if this were their last moments on earth.

The sounds of weeping was never a good sign but oh- Oh how beautiful those cries were as he buried himself into the sweet honey taste of the glossy lips. The cries like a beautiful lullaby finally lulling his heart- No. His very soul to ease at last. A little hug going through the chest and shushing the throbbing pain like a wee babe trilling out. Loud sobs echoed throughout the destruction of the night. Passing over waves and bouncing off floating shreds of wood planks. 

The warmth of the water feeling nothing but cold. 

Sounds. Noises. Tones. Pitches. Frequencies.  He knew them all.

So why did it take him so long to realize that the only one sobbing here was him? Why didn't he notice the way he was letting his eyes talk for him? Why didn't he feel the way he had placed himself against her flesh? Forehead to collar bone. Hands and arms tightly clutching onto the pale wet flesh as the eyes shown down brightest in the moonlight.

"Tengen... What have you done?"

Stung. Worse than a manta Ray's jab. Still stinging. 

Sobbing. Crying. No stopping the tears that caught the moonlight. Like little stars twinkling down his face and joining the sparkling of the waves. 

Worlds collided and evaporated. Taking all rational thoughts with it. Pleas of echoing lingering self resentment clouding judgement, pride be damned.

"Dont leave me again don't leave again!! Please I beg of you do not leave me again! I can't lose you!"

Lungs burnt in panic beyond comprehension. He couldn't think clearly. He felt like he was burning in a fire while also frozen so numb in ice he lost all feeling. Sobbing wracking the heavy frame as it clung onto the smaller form like a lifeline. If he let go he would tumble and spiral out of control with nothing to stop him. Nothing to cushion his fall. 

"I have nothing else. I don't want to lose this. I can't lose you all again! PLEASE! You're the only good thing I have!!"

They were the only thing he could love. He didn't want to lose the light that had finally arrived back into his heart. They must hate him. Hate, hate, HATE HIM for everything he put them through. Everything he let happen. He was worthless. Unworthy. Useless. Horrible.

"I only wanted you safe! I swear...I'm sorry. Imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry! Forgive me. Please don't leave me!"

Please don't leave him. Please don't hate him. Please let him make up for everything. As long as they stayed. 

"I LOVE YOU! I love you, I love you, I love you so much you don't understand!"

Stay. Please. Say they'll stay now. Please don't let his mind be playing tricks on him. Please don't let him wake up and find out this was nothing but a sick nightmare to mock him for his sins. 

"I promise I'll be better! I'm sorry I'm sorry! I'll be a better husband I swear! Just don't go! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry-"

'Im sorry.' A mantra repeated like a prayer over and over in his broken voice. Broken up into pieces like shattered glass in chokes and sobbing. 

"Tengen..."

He wasn't even aware of who he had grabbed in the un-clarity. He just remembers two hands, so tiny but much stronger than his broken miserable body all together, grabbing the glistening sides of his head. Weakened by the force of a thousand failures. He didn't want to let her go. He had enough clarity to realize that whoever she was wasn't Kyojuro. He sobbed. He's sobbing he hadn't stopped. He couldn't stop. Not even when sweet lips met his swallowing up the next sob that dropped from his throat. Scooping it up and turning it into muffled chokes and whines. It's been so long. Too long since he felt a loving touch.

A most intimate touch only shared by lovers. 

One he didn't deserve. Shouldn't be given. Yet he accepted like a drowning man desperate for a taste of the sweet oxygen. 

All that could be heard was the muffled chokes. Like he was trying to gasp for that air but his throat was clogged beyond saving. He couldn't stop. The dam had burst and there was nothing to save himself. The screams from the past still echoed. Haunting him back to the visions of them disappearing and unable to do anything. So helpless. So worthless. 

Unworthy. 

He couldn't stop the choke that forced him to pry himself away from the saving grace that was her embrace. A hiccup, messy and loud, not helping his feelings. Eyes stinging in fear for what he'll see. Afraid it'll be nothing but air and he had just been imagining the whole thing. Gone insane with grief or worse- It'll be nothing but a desperate dream by a man who's failures costed him everything. Coasted them all everything!

Through the staining tears-

Through the haze-

In the dark-

Lit up by nothing but the moonlight-

Barely visible-

Blue eyes shown up at him big and bright.

"O-Oh my God..Oh my go-ha-haaad. Suma! SUMA!!"

Blue eyes, MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN ANY SAPPHIRE, and a face more welcome than his own father was there. 

She was here.

She was ok.

SHE WAS ALIVE!

Her name felt like a holy prayer for the tongue. He couldn't stop the voice from yelling despite the closeness. If the voice hurt her ears she didn't show. Only proceeding to tear up with tears more meaningful than any other time than she's ever cried before.

"No, Tengen. D-Don't cry! If you start t-t-then I'm go-gonnaaa- Ahhahahaaaaaa!!" Beautiful. Her crying was always beautiful but now it was more beautiful than any dammed song or instrument in the world. 

He choked again. He couldn't say anything but choke on his own stupid breathing as she wailed and hung onto his face. Someone joined them. The most beautiful gold orbs ever that was more valuable to him than all the gold in the world. 

"Ma..Mak-k-"

He couldn't finish. Both literally as the chokes claimed him and because he was not worthy to say her name let alone be in her presence. Gold and Sapphire. Sobbing and tearing up. He felt his flesh burn in shame and guilt as multiple arms surrounded his weak failure of a body, keeping him aloft as he lost himself once more sobbing uncontrollably and feeling a fist smashed into his heart only to creep up through his skin and clench around his throat from the inside as a perfect little Ruby joined the Gold and Sapphire. A gutteral, and absolutely pathetic noise left him. Somehow sounding more pathetic by how tight the fist clutched his throat. He tried to talk. He wanted to declare his apologies for his sins so badly-

"Tengen." A soft small hand pushed the quivering bottom lip back up to meet the upper even more quivering lip. "Baby, don't. It's alright now. Shh."

Choking. Hiccuping as the arms wrapped around him fully. Tightly and making sure to NOT let him go. To NOT let him leave. They were saying 'youre ours and you're going to stay right here whether you like it or not.'  He couldn't break away even if he wanted to. 

"You're alright. You're ok now. We got you."

He held on tightly. All one, two, three of them were here. Safe. Alive. It wasn't a dream. It wasn't his mind playing cruel games! Rocking back and forth and burying himself into their warmth. So soft. Smelt of fresh air and flowers. Beautiful. They were his. He was theirs. And he wanted nothing more than to allow them to reclaim him and keep him eternally. 

"Tengen?"

Time froze still. His rocking ceased. The waters fell deathly silent once again. And then puffy, bloodshot red eyes snapped on a swivel towards the one who frowned at him with fiery eyes.

"You...WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU?!" A voice, loud and very on edge reverberated throughout the night. Puffing with unrestrained nights of stressful sleep and rising paranoia from the mind. 

"I understand you must be very angry with me-" 

"YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I'VE FELT!!" Kyojuro said nothing in defense in the brief silence after the declaration. A full minute of angry gasping and heaving. Edging closer to falling over the hold their wives had on him. A shaking hand raised accusingly and rightfully so. "HOW THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I FELT?! YOU WERE ALL I HAD LEFT AND YOU DECIDED TO DO WHAT I EXPLICITLY TOLD YOU NOT TO DO! YOU LEFT ME ALONE AND I HAD NO IDEA HOW TO PROCESS THIS!!..." The choking returned. Voice loosing whatever bitter bite the tongue tasted and devolving into nothing but sobs. "Dammit, Kyo...Do you know what you made me think?! W-What I felt when you left me?!.."

Whatever might've been said was lost. A warm cheek pressing into his shaking hand had him choking on whatever he might've said next. Red eyes, sorrowful, guilty, regretful, and on the verge of collapsing into tears too gazed hard into his.

"I'm so sorry, my love."

"DON'T YOU DO THAT AGAIN!! DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING DO THAT TO ME AGAIN!! DO YOU HEAR ME!? YOU COULD'VE DIED! YOU COULD'VE DIED A-AND I WOULDN'T HAVE EVEN KNOWN!! I SHOULD'VE BEEN THERE!! IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME W-WHO'D-.."

He couldn't finish. It should've been him from the very beginning to take their fate. At least then he would've done what he should've done as a good husband. There was a pure moment of relieving bliss surrounded by warmth and love. Crying too yes but he didn't care for him or how he looked in that moment..

Until the smell of thick copper finally registered in his nose.

B L O O D

Bloodshot eyes shot back open. No. NO. EVERYTHING WAS SUPPOSED TO BE OK NOW!! SOMETHING WASN'T RIGHT! The blinking eyes shot around the abyssal horrid darkness searching for the source quickly and panicked-

Until they fell upon Kyojuro. 

And the red splattering his body. The red staining his hands and arms. 

AND THE UNCONSCIOUS HUMAN THAT SLUMPED AGAINST HIS CHEST.

There was nothing but silent stares until the others in mixed reactions found out quickly the reason for his sudden stoic face. 

"W h a t  t h e  f u c k  i s  t h i s?"

Kyojuro for once looked almost panicked. "Tengen, we can explain." He choked out quickly under the intensity of the face he gave her.

"I think I'd like that actually." A hand, still shaking uncontrollably, pointed at the way Kyojuro's hand bunched up and tightly held the pretty yellow fabric of a once nice dress stained by red. Most likely the source of the blood the Kyojuro was trying to prevent from leaking out. "Why the hell are you holding that human?!" 

"Tengen, I promise we will explain everything to you but right now she needs attention! We must get her to the doctors now!"

A sneer. "Leave her on the beach! Someone will find her or she'll wake up and go home herself!"

"We can't just abandon her! She's wounded!" His husband's look was panicked. Extremely afraid. "LOOK FOR YOURSELF!" As if to convince him, he turned to nudge up the obvious bleeding gash in the unconscious woman. "She won't make it if we don't do something."

Tengen said nothing. Nothing but stare at the pitiful and weak girl in his arms....He admitted Kyojuro was right. The wound wasn't deep and the bleeding wasn't bad but she'd most likely not survive the night if left to herself or perhaps a wild creature would be attracted to the blood and easy prey. She was more pitiful than the man who threatened them.

He knew that man's face. 

His voice.

He was the one who mocked him from the shoreline and thrived on his pain when his cursed bloodline stole his lovers from him. 

He was not going to survive to do it again.

However...

He didn't recognize this woman. He leaned forward giving a deep inhale. He smelt blood obviously, and salt and water on her drenched body. Some cotton from her fabric, and then finally her own unique scent. One whiff and he was able to conclude that she was never any of the people that he took out or who wronged him before. A total stranger. A third smell got him confused.

There was a plethora of all kinds of different smells on her body. Blood, salt, water, cotton- But also the faint scent of flowers, and other plants, and strangely enough the scents of his lovers. Mostly Makio on her arms and hands and Kyojuro as he held her, but there was also softer traces of both Suma and Hinatsuru too.

....How odd.

However he fully stopped. The scent of THAT MAN was there too. On one place. Under the blood and Kyojuro's hand desperately trying to save her. Did-..

Was he responsible for this?

"Tengen, please."

"....Press down on the wound tightly. It's a long trip and if she's going to make it then she'll need all the blood she can keep in her body." 

He hoped he didn't regret this kindness.

"WHAT?!"

You stared at Tengen as he continued to casually stare at you before shrugging again. You sputtered opening and closing your mouth before shaking your head and just looking out again at the blue horizon. Still no signs of land anywhere. This-..It-

"T-There's gotta be some kind of mistake." You looked back to him wet hair clinging to your face and shoulders. "Did you say that I'm on an island?"

His smile widened. "THE biggest out of the three I own!" He huffed proudly before a single finger pointed up. "I own the entire west beach where you first came from. It became mine after I drove all those humans away and claimed it for myself. I also own these three islands off it and at least five miles of ocean in all directions you see! It's a perfectly plentiful hunting ground for my pod and partners!" He hummed again and rubbed his chin. "In fact- Kyojuro's family just moved into the coral reef connected to my second island. Kyo wanted a safer place for his little brother to grow up and technically they're my in-laws-" He lit up perfectly happy again. "So my home is their home!"

"How the heck did you even manage to build a house on the beach when you can't walk on land?!" That's what confused you most.

"Oh that? Eh. This island used to be inhabited by people who fished like your town did." He waved a hand disregarding anything in concern with a bored look. "The guy who had this place before me ran them out and then I ran HIM out. I guess a few houses are still standing up."

Ok. Kinda creepy to know that you were really staying in what Used to be someone's house but that really the main concern here. Your main concern was why three girls who ended up disappearing, one girl who was Said to be carried off by a Naga, and a girl who was supposedly drowned two towns over were all stuck in a house way out in the middle of no where!

"Tengen." He hummed again glancing boredly at you from examining those sharp strangely Mitch matched claws of his. You hesitated a second before gesturing to the way you had walked from. "Why are those girls on your island?"

"Oh! Well besides this island being the biggest, there's a few houses left standing they can live in, it has a fresh water source for drinking, plenty of food-"

"That's not what I meant." Your waving hands caused him to pause in his island bragging again. "I meant WHY are they here?"....He blankly stared at you. "Why are they on your island and not home?"

He blinked. "They are home. What are you talking about?"

You wanted to facepalm yourself. "No. Why aren't they with their families?" He opened his mouth- "Their human families, Tengen!" You frowned harder.  "Everyone's been worried sick about them since they disappeared last year!" Your stomach felt tied in knots remembering the way you've seen Mr. and Mrs. Kocho cry over loosing all three of their children in one day. 

Tengen stared at you silently before he just shrugged making you gawk to the nonchalant reaction to the situation. "I dunno really. It's not my business."

"What do you mean? They're living on YOUR island aren't they?!"

He stretched his arms placing them behind his head. "I mean yeah. Can't exactly make them live in the water with their puny lungs." Your eyes narrowed but he wasn't affected by this. "*sigh* Look. They're not my mates so I have no say in their relationships other than letting them stay where they won't get killed."

Wait... Relationships? He must've seen the expression your puzzled face was making because he groaned again before rolling his eyes.

"My pod mates. They're the ones who brought 'em here. Look. I dunno about humans where you come from, but here we don't really stick our noses into others' relationships."

"Wait. What do you mean that they were brought here?"

He shrugs with his arms still behind his head. "Just as I said. That Akaza fellow traded me a whole chest of jewels just to let that suck girl live here. Uh.. What's-Her-Name. Koko? Yuki? Something like that." He looked off to the side seemingly bored again. "She kept getting sick so Giyuu and Sanemi thought it'd be a good idea to kidnap some doctors but then they stayed- Then my problem started. Obanai said he'd go look for em on land!" He tutteted and made a sour frown. "But instead of being back my women, he ends up bringing back a pink haired girl who wound up beating my ass in a suplex!"

"*SNORT!*"

His head snapped to you narrow eyed and frowning as you turned away covering your face. "And what the hell is so funny?!"

What was so funny was the mental image of a petite woman like Mitsuri beating the scales of a giant merman supposedly strong enough to sink ships whole. But you only shook your head despite the smile on your face.

"N-Nothing. Nothing at all," you said between giggles at his obvious frown.

"It's not funny!" He shouted before quickly lowering his arms to ..Cross them and-

"Are you pouting like a child?" Some kind of sputtering noise escaped his throat making you laugh harder than before and his face turned red out of embarrassment.

"I am not pouting! Tengen Uzui does not pout like a pint sized minnow! You got that?!" Despite his annoyed face and look you couldn't help but end up laughing more, hugging your sides and trying not to jostle the hurt shoulder. "I MEAN IT! STOP! STOP YOUR LAUGHING!! IM THE MOST FLASHY AND TERRIFYING SEA CREATURE OF THE WEST SEAS!! IF I WANTED TO, I COULD SCARE YOU SO BAD YOU COULDN'T EVEN TAKE A BATH WITHOUT BEING SCARED OF ME!"

You wheezed for air not being able to breath. "Y-Yes. T-Tengen U-Uzui. *Snort* Lord of pouts A-And god of- Hahaha! Blushing-"

"I'M NOT INTO YOU!!" He sounded..panicked almost. His face a sudden ten shades redder. And he squawked out half stuttering. "LET'S GET THAT STRAIGHT! I MIGHT BE GRATEFUL BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU'RE SEDUCING ME! GET REAL! IF ANYTHING YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE IN AWE OF ME!!"

"Aw. You came all the way here to seduce me?", you teased not taking him seriously at all. 

"I-... THAT'S NOT-"

"Or do you want a 'medical kiss' too?" You teased again. Feeling a little better that you can get back at him in some way after all you went through. "I think I can arrange that.~"

Tengen absolutely froze solid. Big lashes on sparkling f/c orbs batting up at him as the soft face leaned in closer. The water droplets against her skin shown in the sunlight like a thousand tiny diamonds clung onto her. Her nightgown clinging to her showing off her figure as soft hands reached out to grabbed his burning cheeks. He couldn't move. Couldn't speak as she inched forever closer. Beautiful orbs going half lidded before closing and warm breath ghosting over him. His face reddened to a shade that rivaled that of an apple, he leaned forward enough to kiss your lips, eyes slowly closing as well- Before her head changed direction and she completely leaned away startling him into opening his as. Blinking as she stood in in giggles. 

"Consider that payback for your teasing. Now.."

 You walked away from his frozen form stopping halfway back down the rock to cross your arms and look around. There was the matter with getting off this island...Maybe the old town here, or what was left of it, had a leftover row boat or something. Or maybe Tengen or one of your friends could give you a ride back to shore? If not you were sure you could make a raft out of-

GROWL- 

You jumped at the sound of sudden rumbling. What THE- What was that? The skies were still clear so not thunder. Was that your stomach? You know you didn't have breakfast yet but you didn't think you were THAT hungry.

"So..THAT'S  how you want to initiate courtship huh?~ How flashy.~"

What?

You looked behind you but froze as you met wine red eyes. His pupils quickly switching between completely dialated and completely all black and round. His mouth in a playful EAGER smirk that nearly split his face. His body was in a pounce position similar to a cat's. Speaking of cat's his shoulders rolled like a cat about to pounce on prey. Face still blushing a mad red.

"Two can play at this game, Little Gem.~"

You squealed out as a large merman suddenly and without warning pounced towards you-

Scrraaaaappe. Scrraaaaappe. 

The soft sounds of a bristled broom swept across the floors and outside of the home. Sending the dust and dirt flying outside into the air in a small cloud of dust before it disappated into thin air. The waves softly rolling off the sand in rolls as the wind gently blew through. Sending pretty long black hair into her face. Her gentle voice giggled as it tickled her skin and she brushed it away-

"Kanae!" 

Pink eyes blinked-

"KANAE!"

Pretty pink eyes turned towards the source of the one calling out to her. A white head of hair bobbing amongst the water. The face of bloodshot black pupils scars staring intensely at her form in the doorway before-

The face stretched an unsure smile across his face as if he wasn't sure how to smile showing off nothing but fangs. A splash sending droplets over himself sounded off as a hand pushed into the air. In his grasp sparkled pretty strings of pearls and gem necklaces. 

"Look! I traded one of Uzui's girls for them! They're f-for you! Aren't they beautiful?!," he called desperately.

...A sad frown settled on her features as she turned- 

"WAIT, WAIT, WAIT!! L-LOOK!! I-I got something for your little sister too! Kanao  likes butterflies right?!" He desperately fumbled as she watched with the same sad, silence she always gave him. Shaking claws desperately picking out a small oddly shaped greenish gem. "Look! This kinda looks like one! I have six little brothers and sisters so I know how you must feel about them! I-I can be good to your family too! LOOK!!' The oddly shaped thing was held up with a frown from him. "Just-... Please don't ignore me anymore. I-I can give you anything you want! Just name whatever the hell you want and I'll get the dam thing!"

She didn't respond. Only looking back forward, and slowly walking back through the doorway. His heart felt like it broke into a million pieces as the noise of the door once again closing echoed in his mind. 

"Rejected again, Shinazugawa?"

A growl echoed over the waves before dangerously slit eyes snapped in the direction of the voice. "Fuck off, Obanai!"

Above the shore and gliding across the dry beach was a much longer but less powerful sea snake. The seemingly endless coils from where he had been wrapped up, sunbathing no doubt, uncoiled just enough to allow his torso to raise and look at him. 

He looked unfazed by his friend's anger as usual. "You think you would've learnt by now. That girl is never going to acknowledge you."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, VENOM BREATH!! IT'S NOT LIKE YOU'RE MAKING ANY PROGRESS WITH YOUR PINK HAIRED CUPID ARE YA?!"

A hiss in place of a growl left narrowed slit eyes. "That'ssss none of your business."

"THEN DON'T GO POKING YOUR FANGED FACE INTO MINE!!"

"It'sss hard not too when you're so loud it wakes up fish all the way in fucking Antarctica!"

"Yeah?!" He pointed out a hand still clutching precious jewels. "At least I'm not as shitting as Lonerfish when it comes to-" He looked over and choked on his words. "OH WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Said snake turned and both comically felt their eyes bug out at the sight before them. A familiar looking blue and black tailed merman sat there looking bored out of his mind and silent as usual which wasn't really out of the ordinary. But what WAS our of the ordinary was the smiling lavender eyed woman squishing his cheeks over and over again as he did nothing to stop her from doing so. He seemed entirely unfazed by any of her poking and prodding of him. Until she said something to him...He mouthed something back which must've been the right thing to say because the girl smiled closed eyed and pleased with herself.

....

They both continued to stare.

"...Well...This day can't get any worse I suppose."

Obanai had spoken too soon.

A BLOOD CURDLING SHRIEK FILLED THE AIR!! 

Both men looked towards the left. Giyuu looked up startled and the girl snapped around startled. ..And all of them watched as a woman drenched to the bone and holding up the end of her nightgown running down the beach with a lovestruck koi tailed merman behind her.

"YOU SHOULD NOT BE ABLE TO MOVE THIS FAST ON LAND?!"

You voice was cut short when Uzui somehow used his arms to leap in front of you and skid to a stop making sand fly as he slid to a stop. You stopped nearly tripping over forward as he stared at you with such an intense look that was like a man falling in love after a hundred years of loneliness. Somewhere behind you a door slammed open hearing the screams, pink eyes blinked widely.

"What the hell has gotten into you people?!," you squealed out as he gave a sound between a deep chuckle and a loud purr. 

His muscles tensed as he smiled wider and again his shoulders did that rolling motion. "I did say I was flashier than anyone else didn't I?~"

He leapt. You squealed. And a moment later you found yourself wrapped up in big burly arms. Pulled against a rippled chest and looked up into the wine red eyes of a playfully blushing merman. 

He smiled brightly at his catch giving a pleased growl that had you freezing. Before he puckered his lips and leaned forward to kiss you-

"TENGEN UZUI!!" He paused still puckered, blinked, and looked over his shoulder at an angry pinked eyed woman. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"

"Just a minute there-"

You opened your mouth only to freeze as a head of white hair snapped back to you and suddenly there was a warmth upon your lips-

[from-izzy]

double a decade | tbz kim sunwoo

Double a decade—no, more than that. 

​PAIRING » tbz kim sunwoo x gn!reader (proofread twice! lmk if i missed anything!)​ TROPE/AU » ​childhood friends to lovers, non-idol au!, holiday season au! (starts a little bit from christmas up to new years!) GENRE​ » it's so fluffy like wow...i'm not going to write something so fluff for sunwoo for a while after this, a tinge of angst, SUNWOO AND READER ARE BOTH IDIOTS, sunwoo thought his love was one-sided, very shy kim sunwoo, sunwoo being very cute and patient to the reader, reader is sick and sunwoo takes care of them uwu, they platonically share the same bed, big spoon sunwoo who is physically bigger than you and holds you to sleep, MUTUAL PINING REEEEEE, a ton of hugs from kim sunwoo because he's so...ugh, reader blushing cause of kim sunwoo, sunwoo giving his jackets that're oversized for you to use (ahhhh) WORD COUNT » 5760 ESTIMATED READING TIME » ~21 mins WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!) » reader is sick with a fever (if you're actually sick, please isolate yourself!), kim sunwoo being a shy idiot, one swear word (but cuts through halfway)

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

my last story for 2023! looking forward to the new year! happy 2024 everyone!

thank you for reading and screaming with me @winterchimez, @heemingyu and @mosviqu !! you three were so chaotic 😭 like ally really whipped out my government name, i couldn't tell whether sana was mad at me or sunwoo, and bar was...yeah...uhm...yeah!

(i suffered so much with the banner, i need to stop looking at it now)

Even you found this situation absurd.

How could something so beautiful cause you to have tissues and wet towels lying around your heating body? It’s bittersweet to know that the things that made you enwrap in the layer of heated and weighted blankets are the same ones every year that fall nicely from the hues of orange and red sky. Maybe it’s the headache or the jealousy as you hear the excited shrills of the children outside the window having fun and throwing the cold ball of death to each other’s faces. It’s probably also the fact that you’re at the time of your month, the cramps around the underside of your stomach in addition to the scratchy itch on your throat that makes swallowing hard. 

In the end, this year’s Christmas has been wasted and you could only cry under the sheets alone, convincing your parents not to enter as you knew they had to return to work as soon as the holidays ended. You truly regretted your past naive and idiotic self for making a snow angel without proper winter battle clothes. The effect took a massive toll on your body, especially with the amount of hours you have been working and the stress of it all. The way you spent Christmas was lonely as you looked down to the ground floor where your family gathered, a warm blanket slouched on your messy, unwashed hair. The distance between your pout and their smiles wasn’t too far but because of your dying voice and their charged voice, even your mother could barely hear your Christmas greetings.

But, there was someone in your life who still barged into your highly contaminated room with his raccoon loverboy beanie and matching handmade raccoon scarf that you gifted for him this Christmas. Even with your refutes and arguments, he just shrugs, refusing to let you spend the holiday season time alone. 

Every year has always been the same at this time of the year. From when the clock strikes midnight when the jingle bells ring from the city hall up to your room, up until around noon, you would spend it with your family. From noon, when you and your best friend would be amazed at how the snowman still kept its shape up until around dinner time, you would be all over the neighbourhood with him. Then cues the opening of gifts underneath the green tree with ornaments from your grandparents’ age, the smile plasters on everyone’s faces as choruses of ‘thank you’s would be said. Three hours before Christmas day passes, you would retreat to your room, only to have a visitor open your door, the pile of snow between the strands of his hair making the wood of your floor a tripping hazard.

Every year has always been the same for you both and Kim Sunwoo is determined to make sure that it would still be that way. The boy has always made every single Christmas memorable from the day you both were in diapers to now. He made sure that Christmas this year isn’t wasted and he proves that solidly.

Now, another day of fighting begins as you pray for your fever to die down in time for the approaching new year. Contrary to your wishes, your whole body feels like it’s been shut down, feeling too effortful to even raise a finger despite it lying on your bed for the last twenty hours.

“Sunwoo…” The tears well up in your eyes, wishing that you could at least pick up the phone to hear his stories about the day. 

“I got you!” 

The door clicks open to reveal his toothy, mischievous smile. In one hand, a filled fabric bag is held as the other fist punches the sky eagerly. If you could, you would’ve chucked all the layers of fabric to the ground for all you care, clinging onto the boy like a koala. He understands the thoughts roaming in your head as soon as he sees the way the ceiling light highlights the sweat on your forehead and the moisture around the bottom of your eyes. 

The once-upturned corners of his mouth dipped and so did his shoulders. With his free hand, the door closed quietly. He slowly approaches you, kneeling on the floor beside your bed. Sunwoo takes his mittens off, tilting his head and his furrowed eyebrows match his solemn smile. 

“The new year is literally in three days and I’m still here all wrapped up like a mummy.” He unfolded one of the new towels on your bedside table, dapping the sweat away from your flushed face. “I hate this…”

Sunwoo couldn’t hide his true feelings either, missing having you healthy by his side for more than a whole week now. The night walks were now leaning more toward miserable than lonely. He misses the way you would wrap your nearest arm with his, the other hand loosely anchoring on as well as you both comment on whatever comes into your mind. It’s during those times that you would be so preoccupied with your words that the world around him becomes silent, looking down at the slope of your nose and the shape of your moving lips dearly. 

If you look up towards him, you can see the way that Sunwoo’s eyes relax and the corners of his lips lift just slightly, looking at you with utmost adore and affection. His cheeks would be red, not because of the chilly wind, but because his heart is telling him to just hold you close, confess and kiss you deeply into the night. 

It’s no exaggeration to say that the fluttering feeling in his heart, gave his body more warmth than the mittens, beanie, scarf and winter outfit.

“It’ll pass soon, don’t worry,” Sunwoo reassures you, straightening his legs and heading to your bathroom. There, he shrieks and the laugh from the joined room, where you lay in bed with a new cold wet towel on your burning forehead tells him that you did it on purpose. “I thought that was real!” His head peaks out slightly from the bathroom door with the toy cockroach in his hand, throwing it on the duvet where it conveniently plops upside down.

“I need some laughs, okay?” It only earned an eye roll from Sunwoo, who closed the bathroom door.

Your eyes widen at the familiar actions, the sprinkling of water confirming your thoughts.

“Sunwoo!” You scold him. “You can’t stay over! I’m literally sick!”

“I’ll be fine!”

These are the only words that he says, ignoring the rest of your complaints and nagging; he knows though, that it’s just because you care for his health and wellbeing.

Your lips could only form a big mountain when Sunwoo finally does exit your now sauna-like bathroom. He had his favourite raccoon onesie on, his used clothes in one hand and was supported with his chest to avoid it from toppling over his hold. A toothbrush is leisurely in his mouth, the frothing around the inside of his lips tells you that he has no second thoughts about staying over. 

“You can’t, Woo.” An exasperated sigh comes out as soon as he slips into the room. “Why don’t you ever listen to what I say?”

The toothbrush stops its rustling sound against his healthy, white teeth and you can tell from the way his hands land on the side of his waist that he has a complaint back about you.

“As if you’ll ever listen to me.” And the rustling continues with a tune of a song.

“Touche.”

There is one thing that changed from your usual sleepovers but again, you’re not complaining as it is the best choice. Sunwoo takes out the spare roll-up mattress after excitedly knocking on your parent’s room for help. You could hear how your parents are beyond surprised by the visit but you could only smile when you hear the way they scold Sunwoo for wanting to stay beside you with your condition.

For some odd reason, he was still able to walk back into your room, showing off the white fabric on his shoulder that he held, shoulder way too high for your liking as his pride replaces the gloomy atmosphere in the room.

“Make some sort of distance between you and my bed please.”

Your tone is no longer playful, almost tired and most definitely worried. Sunwoo nods, his lips pulling into a line. At this moment, when Sunwoo sets up his bed for the night away from you, you don’t realise the clench in your heart, your hand swishing over the space beside you where he would usually cuddle with you to sleep.

“This alright?” Pulling off his sparkly doe eyes, shooting you a smile that you couldn’t possibly refute. “Alright! Goodnight!” He cheers when you nod defeatedly.

With a flick of the switch, the only thing that allows you to see your covered feet is the moonlight from outside. Sunwoo is in a better position because the lower level means that your bed blocks the shine enough for him to slumber back to sleep.

For some reason, you couldn’t. Your body is still, your eyelids shut and your calm breathing would’ve fooled anyone that you were actually in dreamland. In reality, all you could hear was Sunwoo’s more soothing snores, the sudden feeling that nothing was covering you and the uncomfortable feeling of staying awake.

Your eyelids shoot open once more, staring at the lines and scratches that managed to make it there. Maybe it was a chaotic cat? Or a really strong spiky fly? Or maybe, a ghost? Continuing a questionable amount of ideas. You didn’t even realise when your body turned to the side where Sunwoo was. Without thinking much, your arm reaches for the expensive headpiece straight to the once-slumbering boy.

Disturbed between reality and dreams, his body immediately straightens up, turning his head at you. “Hey!”

“Sorry.” You did feel guilty, not knowing that your impulse actions would jolt him so much; but your laugh tells him that once again, you did plan it with some sort of naughty reason.

Like the antagonist of a scary movie, Sunwoo’s head dips down slightly, his bangs covering his eyes and his cheek rising with menacing thoughts in his head. Suddenly, he jumps over to the mattress, wiggling his fingers all over your body.

“S-Stop! Sunwoo!” He didn’t bother doing so, his heart delighted at the sound of your laughter after so long. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, you pathetic raccoon!”

“Oh, you’re really asking for it!”

It’s a miracle that none of your parents didn’t woke up after almost five minutes of different volumes of laughter. After a week or so of copping up in your room, unable to properly see your best friend, he makes his mark on the winter holiday, knowing that every time you fall sick with a fever, you’ll recall this fun memory.

“Can’t sleep?” 

He retreats to the edge of the bed, his legs dangling. Yet, he has his full focus on the way your smile gradually falls into a frown. His hands move under the blanket, finding yours. As soon as he feels you, his fingers intertwine with yours. Automatically, your thumb caresses Sunwoo’s, calming enough for him to sleep. Eyelids heavy but not completely down yet, your brown orbs observe the way Sunwoo kneels beside you.

“Sunwoo…”

“Hm?” 

“Thank you for staying.” 

His eyes widen slightly but he then lets out a small chuckle. “Just doing your lovely parents a favour.” 

“No.” He gulps at your seriousness, watching the way that even though your back is facing the natural light source, the growing waters underneath your eyelids make his other hand reach out for you, the movement shaking your tears down. “I meant in life. Thank you for staying with me another year.”

Your eyelashes fluttered, the darkness quietly enveloping you. Sunwoo just lets out a soft sigh, your words making his heart beat too rapidly for him to sleep tonight. 

“I love you.” 

There…

He rehearsed the confession in the mirror many times, different scenarios each time, a different object in his hand every time as he imagined the perfect gift that he would give if he was ever given a chance to pour his feelings into you. A part of him wishes you heard it, hoping that you didn’t keep this friendship going. 

The mattress that he worked hard to retrieve from your parents is left untouched for the rest of the night. Forget about his well-being for a second, prioritising the love in his heart. Forget about being sick if it meant being able to hold you in his arms just like all those times. Forget about your scoldings that he would only stick his tongue out nonchalantly to. Sunwoo climbs on the opposite side, his usual spot in your bed. He carefully slips his body inside, the air a thousand times warmer, almost making him wince at the sudden temperature rise that he didn’t expect.

For one last time in the night, he wipes your forehead clean, pressing a lingering kiss on the area. Your body recognises the dip of the bed, turning to the other side and hiding your eyes from the glare of the night into Sunwoo’s beating chest. Perplexed but still somewhat composed, he lets you get comfortable first, both of your hands reaching up to the fabric of his collar, tugging it slightly as a satisfied smile makes its way onto your relaxed face. 

“I love you.” 

He says once more.

“I love you so much, bubs.” 

A little bit louder.

“I love you so much but,” He rests his head on the pillow, pulling you further into his embrace with his hand curling over the shape of your head. “I don’t think I can stay beside you next year.”

Unrequited love his whole life. 

The trade-off between friendship and love is too much for him to fully digest. 

But as the years pass, Sunwoo knows that there is nothing much he can do but drown in his uncertainties. At the same time, he’s no longer sure how much longer he could fake another smile towards you whenever you were taken out for dates. He’s no longer sure how to keep his heartbeat at bay whenever you accidentally whip your hair across his face whenever he scared you, and the way your first instinct is to squish his cheeks, frown and check up for any hurt on his beautiful face. He’s no longer sure if he could hide the urge to pull you into his chest whenever your fingers would lace together even during the hot summer days.

So Sunwoo made it clear to himself that tonight would be the last time he would bask in your presence. Another unsure kiss is given to your forehead and against the screamings inside his head, he follows his heart to press one on each of your closed lids, whispering loving words that he desperately wishes you would hear. 

“I’m thankful for you too.”

True to his words, Sunwoo is gone by the early morning, the white blob on the floor is gone and so are the used towels that you have used throughout the previous day. Judging from the coolness of the sheets beside you, he must’ve left some time ago and it left a bitter feeling in your whole being when he left no note that would usually snap the drowsiness in you to an immediate deadpan reaction, or contrary a dog video that would make up want to curl up and stay in bed for longer.

Three distinct knocks on the door tell you that your mum has breakfast ready but you can’t respond as enthusiastically as you usually would. 

“You’re looking better today, actually.” The plastic tray rests on the corner of your table. The now-occupied space reminds you of last night when Sunwoo used the same space for his worn-out backpack. Satisfied with the way your forehead is no longer burning and almost back to normal temperature, the woman nods and lets out a sigh of relief. “Must be the Sunwoo effect.”

It did make you forget your confusion for a second, the corners of your slumped lips pulling to a straight line. When you were once again left all alone in the room, the loneliness was unlike ever before. The charging cable is ripped away from your device, opening the messaging app to text Sunwoo a very formal, very awkward morning greeting. Your eyes bore into the bottom left of the screen, seeing if the familiar typing icon would pop out but after around four minutes of empty wishes, the way you shoved your phone under the pillow shows how crestfallen you are with his isolating behaviour. It continued for the rest of the day, your phone never buzzing because of him even though his social media activity shows him posting a new memory to share over the internet.

New Year is around a few hours and to you, it looks like Sunwoo has no plans to change his indifference towards you. Even when Eric says he would make sure that Sunwoo sends a message to you, the only thing that changed in your messaging status with him is the ‘delivered’ to ‘seen’ sign.

“The audacity of this little piece of sh—” 

Your fingers tapped rapidly first, and the floating tiles of your keyboard pour your conflicted emotions with a dash of empty threats to him. It’s infuriating that the only thing he did was still, left you on ‘seen’ but this time, in real-time. 

“Okay, fine!”

Why are you so defeated? Frustrated? Annoyed? Irritated? Worried? Sour? Confused? Are you really going to spend the rest of the year without him? Start the new one without him? Is he really breaking the streak of watching the fireworks together and being each other’s first ‘Happy New Year!’s with a bunch of jumping and squealing? 

Is he mad because you’re the reason why you can’t watch the flowers in the sky with him this year? But Sunwoo knows that you’ve been sick! But if he is, is he so mad to the point that he's going to break the streak of being each other’s first ‘Happy New Year!’s next year because of it? But between you both, you’ve always beaten him by a split second!

“Fine! Be that way then!” If the framed picture of you both had noise sensitivity, you’re sure that it would’ve cowered away and fallen straight to the bin next to it. “Ignore me then! Go have fun with the rest of your friends! Why’d you come here and act like you cared when you were just going to avoid me like this?!”

As if the whole universe isn’t seemingly against you already, the bunny doll that Sunwoo won for you smiled sweetly from the corner of your room. The rubber material of your slippers makes high-pitched slaps and your arms snatch the poor plush by its neck, shaking it back and forth as you start to let out all the cursing in all the languages that you know to the boy in your head.

“You got it!”

You couldn’t hide the excitement on your face as soon as the claw hovers in the hole of the machine, a few seconds away from delivering the prize to your hands. Sunwoo rejoices and is proud after winning against the rigged game with only the first try. 

You try to wait patiently for Sunwoo to give it to you, but the way that your upper body bounces, and the way your slightly wavy hair goes along with the motions of your body, only makes it harder for Sunwoo to properly hand you over the gift. You weren’t doing anything special but he was so in love with you that he couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath at the way your eyes sparkle to him—it didn’t help his case that you were cutely drowning in his jacket. 

“D-Do you love it that much?”

Would it be weird if he snapped a photo of you right now? When your cheeks are smushed against the bunny’s fluffy ones? Would it be weird if he wanted to set it as his wallpaper and just stare at it all day long?

“It’s so cute!” 

You indirectly answered, putting your full attention and affection to the animal in your hands. The way you bopped your nose with its own only fuels his adoration for you and because you’re so immersed in your birthday gift, Sunwoo did manage to get the picture that he desires.

Kim Sunwoo also had it as his lock screen, hiding it within a collage of other memories—it’s the reason why he’s been so protective over his phone for the last few months.

Having had enough of giving the inanimate animal a headache, you threw it onto the floor with a huff, blowing the loose strand of hair away from your vision. All of a sudden, the tears finally well up in your eyes and you let out silent croaked sobs. The hunched-over plushie is the catalyst for your head to replay the memories in your head. With your back against your bed, knees folded to your chest and the bunny sitting on top, the outside world blurs out of existence for a while.

Everything is just Kim Sunwoo.

From the way he smiles.

To the way he drools in his sleep.

From the way he would literally hide you from the outside world, arms enveloping and muffling your cries.

To the way he welcomes the series of punches on his chest because life is too much for you sometimes.

From the way he has your mum on speed dial in case he can’t reach you.

To the way that he would hop into the car to pick you up from your solo late-night, early-morning beach walks still in his pyjamas.

From the way he knew how to comfort you depending on the situation.

To the way he wouldn’t mind submitting his assignment late if it meant that you’ll be able to sleep peacefully.

Your face flares up, recalling the light pressure of his lips on your eyelids the other night and with it, the meaning behind your tight hold on the bunny becomes something entirely different. That’s all it takes for you to rush out the front door, your mum following your rushed actions with her eyes.

“Well,” she shrugs, eyes back to the television of her favourite Christmas movie, “that happened.”

So maybe you should’ve changed to snowing boots or something more appropriate than your slippers but in your body’s adrenaline to keep your body intact for another five minutes when you would reach Sunwoo’s house.

“You’re so—ugh!” 

The crystals falling from the sky are too uncomfortable and you know that you will be bedridden for longer after this but that’s not going to be your fault. Someone else will take the blame for this and you’ll make it clear for him.

It’s only when you reach the front door, hands on your bent knees, throat dry, nose red, cheeks most probably iced due to your tears and the weather that the words all evaporate from your head. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore and with the curtain from the living room open just enough for you to see Sunwoo snuggling in the couch with his cup of hot chocolate, the feelings that you have been hiding from him amplified greatly.

You’re so mad at him but you still think he looks cute with the blanket over his head, covering his shoulders and eyes focused so much to the point the colours of the graphics were being reflected on his eyes. Changing the direction from kicking down the front door, you decided to instead gather a lump of ice into your palm, striking it against the window where his face was. 

His body jolts back but it didn’t take long for his mind to register the white remnants crumbling on the glass, window frame and sill. It takes Sunwoo less than a second to take in your shivering figure on the other side of the window and he knows he’s going to get an earful from his mum when she sees the sweet and sticky drink on her carpet.

The coat hanger rattles and almost breaks an arm with how violently Sunwoo takes two of his warmest jackets, swiftly getting ready to meet the cold and starting blizzard outside. He automatically winced when nature slammed the door open, almost stubbing his toe—but maybe that’s his karma for leaving you on read for more than a whole day without a proper explanation.

Sunwoo took his focus away from the throbbing pain, skipping down the stairs, using the spiky handrail for support as he pushed his body up whenever he went down a step lower, relaxing when his feet landed on the ground safely. It’s only been a few minutes since he stepped out of his blanket but now everything is throbbing—his heart as well for a different reason.

Seeing you still facing the window, your hair flying all over the place, your chin basically on your chest, Sunwoo realises that he hurt you badly. Maybe he should’ve just been honest. If so, then at the very least, you wouldn’t chase him out like this when it looks like you just started to feel better. 

“Hey…” his feet make cautious little shuffles, scrunching the remaining mixes of nature and ice, kind of scared for his life that you would start to (rightfully) punch him. Thankfully, he got close enough to drape his jacket onto your shoulder, zipping up the front without asking you to put your arms. If it wasn’t for the fact that he ignored you, he would be teasing and asking you about what you are mulling over. “Let’s go inside, hm?”

Sunwoo sighs at your stubbornness when you shoved his arm away, feet planted on the ground.

“Go away.” 

His heart clenches at the way you probably meant that. It included a hint of hurt, broken the unanswered questions that were swarming your head.

“I’m sorry,” Sunwoo said so softly that you could’ve missed it if it wasn’t the way you were already actively focusing on him. “So please, let’s just get you inside. It’s my fault, I’m sorry.”

His palm goes over where his heart is and the other hand gives you a reassuring press. Sunwoo knew by the way you refused to look at him despite him bending over to meet your eyes, that this was going to be tough for you to listen to him.

But Kim Sunwoo is patient.

He’s always been patient and understanding when it comes to you. When his hands reach over to envelop yours, you don’t push away how he wraps his own between yours. Your heartbeat picks up its pace when he leads your joined hands into the pocket of his jacket, his thumb gliding over your skin. The act also sends your body closer to his, finally closing the gap between your bodies, sharing body warmth corresponding to the red hues on your cheeks.

Your lips now hover over his outwear and your nose takes his scent in, enjoying breathing in the familiarity after almost two days of no contact. Sunwoo bites his lips, nervous about having you in front of him and the way you tighten your hold on his hands tells him that you have a lot to say. 

“You don’t want to spend the first week of the new year bedridden, bubs.” Wordlessly and timidly, Sunwoo just scans over your facial features, his eyes roaming about while your eyes are stuck on his zipper which is halfway done.

“Don’t call me that…” Because it clicks open the surge of feelings that you have been trying to hide from him for the longest time. “Don’t…”

You were still half awake when he said his words.

Unknowingly to Sunwoo, you heard every single word that you have always wanted to say to him. That night, when his hand wrapped securely around your waist, you had the best sleep in your life, taking a mental note to talk about the topic later on.

Only to realise that you are both idiots with your feelings.

“I’m sor—”

“Stop apologising!” 

And it sends Sunwoo into a puddle of shock and confusion when your eyes send out a waterfall. He separates his hands from yours and they fly quickly to hold your cheeks. Stutters of more apologies string out and his thumbs weren’t fast enough to keep your face dry. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry too!”

“Hey, what are you sorry about? I’m the one who left you on read!”

“I’m sorry that I’ve never told you how much I appreciate you,” you hiccup before continuing, seeing a glimpse of Sunwoo’s gaping mouth, “I’m sorry that you’ve always been the one taking care of me and not the other way around,” and you see the way he shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, “I’m sorry that I ever make you think that I don’t care about you!” 

“Hey, no. Don’t say that, I know you care abo—”

“I love you, Kim Sunwoo!” 

To him, even though Christmas has passed, he’s convinced that it’s a miracle for him. The night when he left to stay in your house, he innocently wished upon the shooting star, closing his eyes and hoping for your health and happiness—but he couldn’t help but also wish that you would love him back even though that’s out of his control.

But what can he do when he’s only loved one person and one person throughout his whole life?

“I’m sorry if I ever made you think that I like someone else because I can tell you now that all those dates I went to only made me sure that I’m so in love with you and you make me feel like I can just be myself when I’m around you and I also feel jittery when I’m around you and—”

This is not the type of confession that he has rehearsed for.

He guides your face into his chest, still sobbing and crying. As always, your hands weakly hit him, your lips still voicing out muffled confessions to him. Sunwoo’s arms wrap around your shoulders, the other on top of it. His head dips, his lips breathing out air near your ear, resting his forehead on his arm for stability. He wants to say something, anything to make sure that his avoidance doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love you back but all he wants to do is to just hold you closer to make it clear that no one could take you out on another date.

Only he can take you out on dates now.

You sniffle, catching your breath after letting your feelings out. The hold around you makes you melt, smiling before turning to where Sunwoo is. At your longing stare, his head shoots back up in surprise, tripping over his own words at how you look at him with beady, watery eyes in adoration. Shy Sunwoo is going to be a sight that you’ll get used to quickly, noting how adorable he is with how his eyes refuse to meet yours and his lips moving without any sound actually coming through.

“I love you.” 

You repeated quieter just for him so that he was the only one who could hear the words.

“I love you so much.”

You stood on your toes, planting a kiss on his chin.

“I love you so much but,” Sunwoo gulps with how you squinted your eyes, “if you leave my side next year, I won’t hesitate to throw a snowball to your face.”

“Oh God, please don’t do that.” Mortified and shaking his head, “I’m sorry, you win. I’ll do anything, just please have mercy on me.”

“Anything?”

Sunwoo gives a series of firm, convincing nods.

“Kiss me.”

The words took a while to register in his mind and he couldn’t help the breath hitching when he realised your request. Sunwoo almost stumbled backwards, your hands tug the fabric of his pockets, pulling him back to you and reality. It caused your foreheads to lightly bump and the impact made you wince at his stupidity. 

“I-I’m sorry! I-I’m—”

“Kim Sunwoo! There’s going to be a mark there! That hur—”

A pair of comforting hands hold your jawline, tilting your face to accommodate the height difference between the two once-best friends. When Sunwoo gets a better grip on himself, he quickly dives in when your lips part, swallowing your complaints and making his dreams come true. 

Double a decade—no, more than that. 

That’s how much he’s waited for this moment with you.

When his lips would slot against yours, hugging your top ones with his before pulling away to give the same amount of affection to your bottom ones. Your noses bump into each other slightly, making the moment seem real and fun, smiling and giggling when you both part for air. Shy and kind of embarrassed with how messy and uncoordinated it is but you both know you wouldn’t want to share each other’s firsts with anyone else. 

At this moment, it’s you and him in this world.

That’s how you ended the year. Clenched fist still inside his pockets, though that didn’t stop you from folding the fabric back so that you could have your arms wrapped around his middle to pull him closer. The sky soon blooms shortly after, and the happy firing noises illuminate the night sky, beating the dull light and colour of the moon that everyone sees every day. Because of the dynamic colours, Sunwoo is able to see the shades of the celebration mirrored on your skin, finding you more beautiful than ever before. 

Though beautiful, the fireworks did make Sunwoo roll his eyes when he seemingly needed to repeat variations of “Be my girlfriend!” even though you were less than ten centimetres away from his face. He knows after your third “What? I can’t hear you” that you were playing with him, giving you pecks of his lips across your face playfully, enjoying how your laughs neutralised the flowers in the sky. 

You ended the year with the start of a kiss with your best friend.

And start the new year with a new title for your ex-best friend.

With Kim Sunwoo, of course.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

[aoioozora]

Insomniacs

Content: Lt. Elias Walker x Civilian F! Reader, fluff, cuddling, playful banter, confession, takes place in mid-late 90s Note: I've never seen an fanfic for Elias yet so here's a silly-cute one uwu

You were not in your right mind when you called up Elias, you next-door neighbour to say, "I can't sleep. Cuddle with me."

You weren't stoned or drunk; just desperate.

There was a brief, deafening silence on the other end of the line. You gnawed your lip as your nails involuntarily drummed in anxious anticipation against the plastic of your telephone.

"Keep your front door open," he finally answered, voice soft but urgent. The call ended with a click.

You put the handset back onto the landline and let out a sigh. You were never this direct with Elias, ever since he moved to the next apartment a few months ago. He was a pleasant young man, blond, brown-eyed, helpful and kind. The two of you were just friendly neighbours, nothing more. You'd share your dinner or your baked goods with him, have friendly conversations and engage in small talk like a good neighbour would to keep up the good relations, and that was it, until just now, when you decided to be a little too direct with him about your feelings. You almost cursed yourself for it, worrying that you might've shifted the trajectory of your friendly relationship with him to something more but his approval came as a pleasant surprise.

You unlocked the front door as requested and made your way back to your bedroom. As you sunk into your bed and covered yourself with your duvet, your heart pounded loudly in your chest as you waited. Your ears buzzed in the deathly silence of your dark room, until it was disturbed by the toll of the doorbell.

You didn't have to answer, and you soon heard the front door open. Faint thuds in the hallways soon followed, and then the distinct click of the door handle resounded in your silent room.

A tall shadow silently slipped in. "I'm here," came a soft, breathless whisper of an announcement from him as he gently closed the door.

"Hey," you greeted as you turned over under your blanket to acknowledge him. You saw his large silhouette move towards you, broad shouldered; befitting a Lieutenant. "I didn't think you'd actually come," you said, staring at his shadow standing by your bedside.

He motioned his hand to the bed, as if asking for permission, which you graciously granted. He hesitantly sat down at the edge, his back turned to you. "I had to repay your kindness," he answered your comment, ruffling his short buzz as he chuckled, "After all, you've lavished me with food much better than Army chow."

"It's called kindness for a reason, Lieutenant," you said with a cheeky grin, loving to refer to him by his rank, "you don't have to repay it. It's free."

He chuckled; it was a deep, rumbling laugh that you loved to hear. "Okay, but still, I want to repay you," he replied as he shifted in his seat and pulled a part of your duvet from under him.

You smiled as you watched him put his hands on the bed behind him to support himself. "You're going to be deployed tomorrow," you said quietly, bringing your hand out from underneath your duvet and sliding it towards his rugged hand, letting your pinky finger meet his in a featherlight touch, "and yet you still came."

The nerves in Elias' limb buzzed and crackled all the way from his fingers to his shoulder like he had touched a live wire. His jaw clenched and his breathing deepened slightly as his head limply tilted downwards. "Yeah," he said heavily, voice trailing off as his train of thought was thrown off the rails.

He laid down on the empty space on your bed, laying on his back and lacing his fingers together over his stomach as he stared at the ceiling for a moment. You noticed how many times his chest expanded and contracted as he breathed deeply. Was he nervous?

He was nervous. Just being in your vicinity knocked the wind out of him; he wondered if he would even be alive to wake up in the morning. He felt the bed and the sheets shift a little as you moved a tiny bit closer; he wanted to turn to look at you, but his neck felt about as mobile as a rusted hinge.

He finally did, and found you looking at right at him, as if waiting for him to initiate the cuddle session. But he was again rendered breathless by your gaze. His lips pursed and then parted slightly to take in a breath.

"Come on, didn't you want to cuddle?" He managed to croak out hoarsely, trying to sound as calm as possible in contrast to his heavily beating heart as he raised his arm slightly to invite you.

You moved nearer and he slipped his raised arm under your head for you to use as a pillow while he laid on his side to allow you to have full access to his shoulder and his chest. The scent of orange and cloves filled your nostrils, an earthy, citrusy, and spicy scent that instantly warmed your body.

"Comfy?" he asked, respectfully wrapping his other arm between your shoulder blade and your waist.

"Yep," you shamelessly snuggled right against his shoulder to get a whiff of his perfume once again.

He smiled at how comfortable you seemed with him and his arms tightened around you to pull you closer. His chin rested on your head, and he could catch the tropical scent of shampoo from your hair.

"Elias?" you murmured.

"Yeah?"

"What perfume are you wearing?"

"Oh... it's just this orange and clove perfume my mom gifted me," he chuckled, "I bet I smell like a house on Christmas."

You giggled, and it sent a wave of warmth in his chest, a feeling similar to what a hot drink on a cold rainy day could hope to replicate. "It suits you," you compliment him, "warm, cozy..." you let out a content sigh.

He smiled and then let out a sigh of his own. "I can smell your shampoo," he murmured, hoping he wasn't sounding like a creep, "It smells like a mixed fruit juice."

"You're right, because it is."

He took another inhale of your hair as if to commit it to memory, and pulled you closer. Your hand slid across his waist to return the gesture, an action that left a trail of fire burning under his skin.

"What time do you have to leave tomorrow?" you ask.

He sighed, nuzzling his nose against your hair and mumbling into it, "Four thirty in the morning." With you in his arms, he didn't want to think of deployment.

"That's early. I shouldn't have called you then."

His arms tightened around you slightly. "No. I'm glad you called me," he admitted, "I... I kinda wanted to see you before I left."

"You did?"

He nodded, nuzzling his face into your hair a little further, as if trying to hide. His heart rate picked up speed as he tried to, ironically, come up with a suitable justification that wouldn't involve telling you his feelings outright.

Not knowing that his mind was buzzing, you interrupted his train of thought and said, being encouraged by his openness, "To be honest, I wanted to see you too before you left. That's why I called you." You found yourself gently pressing yourself into his shoulder in response to his nuzzling, feeling a little shy to admit it despite your bravery.

The revelation of feelings left both of your cheeks warm. Elias squeezed you gently and his fingers began to rub soothing circular patterns on your back.

He softly breathed out your name and you raised your head to look up at him. He had such a longing look in his eyes as he stared into yours. "I couldn't sleep either," he admitted. No wonder he answered your call so quickly. "And honestly..." he inhaled deeply, "With you next-door, I can never sleep because I can't stop thinking of you."

You stared at him, slightly wide eyed. His rubbing stopped and his words continued to tumble out against his will, "And it's the same when I'm deployed. You never leave my head."

Your heart couldn't help but flutter at his words. He now looked away, embarrassed, but you smiled. "Honestly, same here. Whether you're near or far, I can't stop thinking of you either."

He was speechless for a moment as he stared at you. He finally blurted out, "Really?" as his heart swelled like a overfilled water balloon. He saw the confirmation in the way you looked at him, eyes filled with adoration and awe, a look that sent butterflies raging in his stomach. He smiled widely, sheepishly, as he feet the heat rise to his cheeks; he was glad it was dark.

You lowered your head and smilingly, nervously whispered the cherry on top to him, "Elias, I really like you."

He was sure his swollen heart exploded at the confession. He was ready to get down on one knee at that instant to ask you to be the mother of his children and to make him the happiest of men but he cleared his throat and stanched the thought.

"I like you too," he answered breathlessly as he gazed at the lovely smile that graced your sweet face. His heart melted and he couldn't help but exclaim, dreamily smiling back, "Woah, that smile's sweeter than all your cakes and pies combined. Better take me to the hospital 'cause I'm diabetic now."

His ears rung with your cute giggles and his smile widened. He was so sure he could hear wedding bells ringing and angels singing. "Oh come on, you're making my diabetes worse. Have mercy on me, sweetheart," he begged with a chuckle, now initiating some playfulness.

Your heart fluttered at the endearment. "Aww, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," you replied, very intentionally giggling some more.

He let out a poorly acted grunt of pain and he held his chest as if he was shot. "Oh no, you've killed me now," he said in a wail, flashing a toothy grin at you.

You playfully shove his shoulder. "We're supposed to be sleeping right now!" you exclaim, "You have an early day tomorrow."

His cheeks flushed with delight at how concerned you are for him. He shook his head slightly, "Come on, sweetheart, we're having a moment here!" he pouts, "I don't want to think of deployment. And besides, how can I sleep when I know we like each other? I'm way too excited."

You rolled your eyes, chuckling. "I mean… I get it. I'm excited too. But we both have to sleep, you know. You can't be late and I can't be nodding off at work tomorrow." You gingerly raised your hand and cupped his cheek, letting your thumb rub absentmindedly against his stubble.

Elias leaned into your touch and closed his eyes, breathing out a soft, "I know." You continued to do so as you stared at him, at the way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, at his lips, at his nose. His eyes opened, staring into yours, half-lidded, gentle, sleepy. "I can't sleep if you look at me like that, darling."

You smiled again and pulled your hand away to grab the duvet and cover your face with it. "Alright, I'll just hide my face then," you suggested with a chuckle.

He yanked the duvet off your face. "No, no, no, no. That's not allowed," he said in a tone of mock sternness, "You're not hiding behind any damned duvet." He then pulled you back against his chest and wrapped his arms tight around you, giving you a gentle squeeze. "The only acceptable place to hide is in my arms."

Your heart fluttered a hundred times over, and you happily hugged him back, returning the squeeze. He nuzzled his face into your hair, taking another whiff of your tropical hair while you greedily inhaled his Christmas-y pomander scent.

"If I have to hide in your arms, where will you hide then?" you asked.

"In your arms."

"What if you need cover during a mission? Would you hide in my arms then?" you questioned, unable to keep yourself from chuckling at the absurd question.

His chest vibrated against your forehead as he laughed. "That's not anything for you to worry about, darling. I got it covered."

Both of you giggled at the pun he made until he said, now a little more stern, "Alright, alright, seriously now, it's time to sleep."

"Copy that, Lieutenant," you mumbled smilingly against his chest.

"Good rookie," he whispers, lightly pressing his lips against your hair and then mumbling into it, "If you'll be good, I'll come back quickly and we can do this again, ad infinitum."

P.S ad infinitum turns into dating, which turns into marriage, and you eventually become the mother of his two boys and make him the happiest of men hehe ;)

[masterlist]

[miharuki]

I would like a BEN Drowned with S/O who is like Wendy from South Park UwU

As always, sorry for my bad English, and also I stopped watching South Park a while ago, so I tried to do as much as I remember, remembering that I'm trying to make it as "real" as possible, so I'm kind of sorry

(slight mention of jealousy and possessiveness, ben drowned being a 19 year old boy)

𝕭𝖊𝖓 𝕯𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖂𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝔖/𝔒 𝖂𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖂𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 (𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔨)

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 (𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡)

Headcanon and Fanfic (in a more realistic way)

Imagine a guy who enjoys it when you get jealous. In my opinion, Ben would definitely like to see you jealous. He would find it fun and might even hang out with other girls or flirt just to make you jealous because to him, it would mean that you really love him.

He would find your courage and determination interesting and even cool, sometimes finding it attractive when you simply go forward without fear of losing.

"I bet 100% on my girlfriend against you, Jeff, so watch out!"

But sometimes he gets angry at your confidence, especially when you simply confront something or someone, especially if you're human (translating: he's concerned).

Ben wouldn't want you to confront him regarding his provocations; he thinks you would be better off just feeling jealous from a distance.

"I thought you looked cute dressed as a rabbit," the boy looks confused, diverting his gaze from the game to you, and you continued speaking. - "I thought you looked cute dressed as a rabbit?! Who the hell is amanda007?!"

The boy simply sighs in irritation because you made him waste his game time due to another bout of jealousy, which he only finds cute if you keep quiet. - "And seriously, you interrupted just because of a comment on social media?!" Ben said, already irritated, as he sighs and walks away, ignoring whether you're going to pester him about anything related to your jealousy.

Ben would find it amazing if you practically fight for your rights, whatever they may be. And if you're a Creepypasta and engage in a fight against someone, you can be sure that the guy might become more interested in you, finding it attractive when you fight against someone who practically mocks anything you say (cough, Jeff, cough).

If you're someone who enjoys romance and such, similar to Wendy, and expect Ben to treat you that way, wake up. The most he can do is stay with you or simply let you sit on his lap while he plays, but romantic things, no, he doesn't like romantic stuff or frills, quality time will be the thing to say.

If your personality is like Wendy's from South Park, it can either make the guy more interested in you or simply make him think you're unbearable depending on the situation.

If you're human, you better be careful. As a human, it's much easier for him to kill you, so try not to be "annoying" around him, and you'll survive. He would kill you if you simply raised your voice at him because of jealousy or something like that. And of course, if you break up with him, you die too; there can't be any survivors.

If you try to make him jealous, he will ignore it, but if you're extreme, like flirting with someone, you can be sure you'll die if you're human (imagine Wendy trying to get Stan's attention :)).

If you're a Creepypasta and have Wendy's personality and try to break up with him, you might get hurt, or he might just ignore you. Your relationship will be somewhat healthy but also a bit toxic. If you try to make him jealous as a Creepypasta, he'll show you that you're practically "his."

He finds it "sexy" and attractive when you fight someone or when you get rid of someone.

"What was that in the sky?" - The boy asked while trying to see. - "Oh, just that bitch Amanda liking your photo," the boy sang, satisfied.

If you get rid of someone because of jealousy (like when Wendy sent the teacher into the sun), you can be sure that, incredibly, he finds it attractive. He prefers that you get rid of "rivals" with your jealousy rather than confronting him about your jealousy.

"Did I already tell you that you look sexy when you hit someone?"

"So, Ben, what do you think?" you ask while showing the outfit. The boy diverts his gaze from his phone to you and just smiles before looking back at his phone and says in a teasing tone that you understood to be mocking - "Are you trying to outshine Zelda?"(translation: you are more beautiful than princess zelda) You understand what he meant but sigh disappointedly and then put the clothes back, closing the closet. You understand what he meant, but you sigh disappointedly and then take off the clothes and put them back in the closet, the boy noticing that he simply didn't get it, he sighs before dropping his phone on the bed and standing up behind you, getting annoyed by the fact that your own boyfriend seems uninterested in you. "I think you'd pay attention to me if I dressed like that elf from your stupid game," you say. Until you feel his arms hold your waist and pull you to him, making you collide with his chest. The boy rests his head on your shoulder, holding you tightly. "Honestly, I don't care what you wear, to me, you can even be naked as long as you stay here and don't show it to anyone," he says, his grip tightening, leaving marks on your waist, - "And my game isn't stupid, so shut up, princess." His grip softens as he lets out a long sigh into your neck, chuckling softly as he begins to trail a few kisses down your neck.

(kind of short sorry XD)

[futurecorps3]

hello! could i please request James Potter x Goth!Reader? She would be a hufflepuff, maybe he saw her once at the hallway defending some younger kids from some bullies and it was love at first sight uwu

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐆𝐨𝐭𝐡!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Masterlist<3

Yay, this is so cute!! I wouldn't define my style as goth but it is more on the punk/grunge, so I hope I get this right. Thanks for requesting, nonnie! x

♡ Baby boy is so :(

♡ He holds no stereotypes or at the very least tries his best not to

♡ So, when he sees you defending a Gryffindor boy -surely a first year- from a group of Ravenclaws, it's safe to say he was head over heels.

♡ "Hey I-I just wanted to say that was very kind of you" all light voices trying to be masked by an overly confident body language because you're so tall in those boots holy shit you're intimidating

♡ You are until you flash a dazzling smile to him

♡ "It's the least I could do; poor kid was terrified of them. If only he knew we're all very scared of everything most of the time..." you wondered, walking to the covered bridge with your long, black leather coat floating almost divinely behind you

♡ "I-I'm James!" he shouts, hand in his fluffy hair as he stared at you go before turning around briefly and shouting back "I know!" with a giggle

♡ He was aghast, knowing he hadn't seen you before in all his years here. How could he miss you!?

♡ While you didn't share any classes, he made sure to take an extra look at the Hufflepuff table during lunch and found you there, giggling with your friends

♡ "James, eat up" Remus mumbled with a full mouth "He's in love, Moony. Let him enjoy the fleeting moments of joy that come with the sight of his belo-" "Shut up Sirius, I can't hear her"

♡ Not long after, he saw you in the steps for Hufflepuff during a Quidditch match. In a swift motion, he flew on his broom over to you

♡ "James!" you smiled. You were wearing a dress vest, a long raincoat and dress pants all in black, along with silver accessories "I'd say your name in the same excited tone but I don't have the pleasure of knowing it"

♡ He was such a charmer, couldn't help but blush a bit 🤭

♡ "It's Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N"

♡ My man felt butterflies, fireworks and his heart skipped a beat! It felt nice to say your name, a good feeling in his tongue that he couldn't get rid of

♡ Y/N, Y/N, Y/N

♡ He took a big deep breath and turned the slut on

♡ "You're on the wrong side of the stadium, darlin'. Should be on Gryffindor's side! Let me take you there" he said, offering his hand out, so you hopped on his broom

♡ You declined kindly, saying your friend was playing for the first time today and you couldn't leave.

♡ James feigned offence and winked before flying off with his signature smirk

♡ Two weeks later, at the match against Slytherin, he spotted a familiar face in the crowd while he stretched and played his best

♡ After that, you never really left his side

♡ You seemed to be everywhere! He found you in the library, during parties, on Hogsmeade and even in the hallways

♡ This turned you into something, making him ask you for a date eventually. A date you said yes to.

♡ Now to the dating part <3

♡ HE BUYS YOU GOTH SHIT HE KNOWS YOU'LL LIKE

♡ "Look! It's a silver cross!", "Baby I got this corset for you, they only had this tone of red though...", "I got your eyeliner refill... yes I know you still have some but it'll run out EVENTUALLY... love you too, dove”

♡ He borrows your crop tops ughhhh!!!

♡ Baby is so supportive!! Ofc you don’t care much about what people say about your style but if you ever have second guesses he makes sure to reassure you

♡ YOU BLESSED THIS WORLD WITH THE SIGHT OF JAMES POTTER WITH EYELINER

♡ He loves Siouxie and the Banshees bro, he’ll be forever grateful to you for showing him her cover of Passenger, originally by Iggy Pop

♡ Y’all go record shopping to the city <3

♡ “James, baby, I adore you but if Daniel Ash asked me out…”

♡ He gave you the silent treatment for like thirty minutes, caving when you pretended to be truly hurt

♡ James is a SUCKER for seeing you get ready

♡ Wether you wear huge eyeliner with intricate designs or just take a lot of time accessorizing, he’s there to admire and help in what he can!!

♡ Therefore, loves going shopping with you

♡ He incorporated some of your underground music knowledge to one up Sirius during muggle music discussions

♡ “Queen is great but have you heard Sisters of Mercy?” “James there’s not a point of comparison what the fuck are you talking abou-“

♡ Worships the ground you walk on pretty much

♡ You get many stares with different meanings when you walk through the school but the only one you care about is James’ lovesick gaze checking you out from one of the classroom’s doors

♡ “You’re so hot” he’d groan when you finally reach his arms before kissing you UGH SOMEONE BRING HIM TO ME NOW!!!

♡ Just imagining his linebacker figure, dressed in his jersey and being the sunshine he is next to you which are pretty much the opposite at first sight makes my heart all warm!!!!!!

♡ To end this, a random little hc I developed just now

♡ If you tend to be very all over the place and distracted like me, rest assured that James Potter knows where all your shit is

♡ “Love, have you seen my boots? The one’s with a bunch of buckles on them, can’t fin-“ “Bottom of the bed” …. “Jamie! Where’s my chain?” “Bats or coffin?” “Bats” “Top left drawer under your black shirt with the tiny holes on it”

♡ Sweet angel boy loves his goth girl!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Marauders taglist (DM or answer to be added): @kquil

[falling-star-cygnus]

This isn't really angst but I want to share this idea with you anyways, Nicole and Anby get sick, like really sick, so Billy and Nekomata take care of them, Nekomata goes out to get medicine for Anby and Nicole so Billy does some nice things for them while waiting for Nekomata to come back, like putting a cold towel on their heads and making chicken noodle soup for them, and when doing this he gets to hear some muttered apologies from Anby and Nicole about the way they treat him

AHHH THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA -> i'm on it o^o7

posts might slow down for a little bit, but I'll definitely try and knock out what's already been sent in as speedily as possible while ensuring [hopefully] good quality :D

the other format i tried out didn't necessarily do bad, but i think i'll stick to this one after all. since i created the Master List at long last uWu

"Hey, Manager," Billy says into Nicole's phone, trying to keep his voice as unassuming as possible, "Boss won't be able to make it to your hangout today."

"Oh no!" Belle immediately frets on the other end, "What's going on? Is she okay?"

Well. The goal was not to make her worry. Damnit.

Objective failed.

"She's okay. Her and Anby just came down with a... pretty brutal fever, if I'm being honest. They should be fine in a few days, though at max!"

Hopefully. Billy had heard stories about humans with sickly immune systems that... didn't always survive a fever. The stories had never scared him before but...

"Kitty's out getting some medicine for them right now," the android forces himself to continue, lest he dwell on that too long, "And I'm staying here to make sure their temperatures don't get too high."

That's what you were supposed to do when humans got sick, right? He was kind of just basing everything off Nekomata's experience and one episode of the Starlight Knights where two characters- who should be love interests but weren't- got stranded together on a desert planet and one of them had to take care of the other. But the other wasn't really human or anything- so it was kind of an unreliable source of information.

So he also did a quick google search.

"That's great, Billy," Belle's gentle voice brings him back to the present conversation, "Sounds like they're in very capable hands then. My mind is put at ease."

....oh!

That was nice to hear. That she believed in him.

"Do- do you have any suggestions?" the android ventures, figuring it couldn't really hurt, "I mean- I can totally take care of them on my own, but- surely the legendary, all-knowing Phaethon might have some advice for a plain piece of scrap metal like me...?"

Perfect save.

In the end, Belle doesn't really tell him anything that he didn't already get from Nekomata or from the computer the Hares' all shared. Cold towels, warm soup that's easy on the throat, and lots of rest.

The two Demara's were laid up in one room to prevent contaminating Nekomata. Or him, too, but the only way the android could get sick was via computer virus.

Which- they all learned the hard way. That was not a pleasant experience, nor one he was eager to repeat... but he would if it meant Nicole and Anby could recover faster.

With no time to sit on his thoughts, Billy replaces the cloths on their heads with all the gentleness he can muster. He must- at least- be doing something right, because the two already look more peaceful than they had before the call with the Proxy.

"Mm.. m'sorry.." he thinks he hears Nicole mutter.

Bad dream? He ponders, hastily striding over to fix the towel across her forehead. Maybe she was dreaming of the time Eous shut off in the Hollow and they had thought about turning them in.

Or- Billy had suggested turning them in.

Twasn't his proudest moment. He sincerely hoped Phaethon never found out about that-

"...m'sorry," she mutters again, turning onto her side with a furrowed brow, "..sorry.. Billy.. for yelng' all th'time. You're a good android. Good fr'nd. 'n I... dn't say it... nuff."

...

If he had been built for crying, Billy was sure he'd be making a mess of his faceplate right now.

The things his family team does to him... he was going soft.

As the android fixes both the Demara's towels, as he helps prop them up and spoon feed the delirious duo medicine and soup, and as he tucks them back in for a nice long nap, privately he thinks...

Maybe that's not such a bad thing.

[queenofallimagines]

Meguru Bachira with a black s/o

LISTEN!! I picked up the 2 volume of the manga on accident when I went to target and I’m in love w him the man of my dreams!! Not taking blue lock right now bc besides Isagi and kunigami i don’t remember any other characters name or anything about them😅 feel free to talk to me about him tho I have SO many thoughts👀

** can you tell this is just me rambling 💀

Megaru💕:

- this pic gives me butterflies holy shit

- WHEW this man has huge unhinged sunshine energy

- Like giggling and kicking my feet how he’s the happy go lucky character trope (I.e hinata) but they make sure you remember he’s not “soft”

- Like the way y’all be uwuing hinata that is a grown man😐 he was throwing fists the WHOLE SERIES but he don’t know about sex? Bffr

- Anyway he’s definitely a switch but kinda leaning more top? he definitely just wants to fuck he don’t care who’s on top

- He’s so cuddly it’s adorable

- Getting neon yellow nails to match his hair>>>

- Definitely would like to match fits w you when y’all step out

- WOULD GET YOU AN ANKLE BRACELET W HIS INITIALS ON IT SO HE CAN KISS YOUR ANKLE WHEN HE PUTS YOUR LEGS OVER HIS SHOULDERS!!

- Most fashionable couple FR

- Always has to be touching you in some way

- Holding your hand, arm around you, hand in your pockets

- Wants to make sure you’re there and won’t slip away from him

- Imagining him going to meet your family and he’s SWEATING like he knows he’s not everyone’s cup of tea and really doesn’t want to start anything

- “You are good at soccer so you have like + 100 points right now”(watching Latino people watch the football on the Olympics is so scary 😫)

- Imagine your family watching his games😭 embarrassing bc now I’m imagining a room full of dads and uncles glued to the tv and cheering him on like he can hear it💀💀

- “You so skinny you need to eat more!”

- He’s charming your aunties to steal plates from your house

- You get in the car and he has like 3 Tupperwares full of left overs

- Great with kids because they think he’s cool

- he’s breaking they ankles in soccer tho he’s not gunna play nice w kids

- If “play where it’s safe cuz it’s NOT over here” was a person

- Like he can go 0-100 in a millisecond so if someone tries him

- Very “who’s gon beat my ass about it??” Type beat

- People think y’all are so cute bc he’s so smiley and sweet to you

- DEFINITELY says filthy shit in your ear too

- Like he’s cuddly w everyone he likes so you’d be no different but he’s slipping his hands up your shirt

- Number one hype man when you get your hair done

- So extra

- “My baby so cute🥹🥹”

- Box braids are his favorite bc he can put charms and stuff in your hair

- also medium long locs bc imagining him walking up to you and pushing them out your face to see your eyes🥺

- Freak

- Probably sends you links to sex toys and is like

- “👀👀??”

-“I’m a visual learner btw”

- The MOST unserious character in this whole series so far

- His song is rodeo but just the flo Milli verse i WILL NOT ELABORATE!!

- Once he get to doing that thing where he lower his voice just call in sick bc you probably not walking

- Not that he doesn’t care about your pleasure it’s more he’s fucking until HE taps out so your brains can be soup but he’s not done so,,,,hold on?

- If you like me and a few inches shorter than him will be smug about it

- His personality is big enough to count as a size kink but being a little taller makes him get a big head

- Talks you through it the whole time

- Switching back and fourth between degrading and praise so fast it makes your head spin

- “Hm? Don’t tell me my little slut is tapping out? You were begging me so nicely earlier”

- only one who can say babygirl and it not be cringe 🤭

- “be a good boy and spread your legs for me, hm?”

- Really sloppy kisser during sex too

- Will tell you to stick your tongue out for him

- On the rougher side of kinky stuff

- Fucks you like it’s the last time he ever will every time

- Don’t care about getting caught bc either way he’s not stopping

- Probably how you’d end up sleeping w him and Isagi I fear

- Isagi is so sweet and megaru is MEAN

- Isagi trying to go slow and be gentle and Megaru over here pulling your hair calling you a pretty whore

- this man In grey sweatpants would end me

- APART OF THE SHORT KING BIG DICK CREW

- he’s tall by Japanese standards but juuuuust 3cm above average in American height

- he already walks out the shower naked w NO care in the world

- probably walks around the house like that too Ngl

- “I am returning to the natural state of my birth” I will glue your clothes to your body sir :/

- feel like he’s more girth than length like don’t get me wrong he def has a third leg but he’s gunna have to work you open

- “ Oh don’t worry, I’ll make sure it fits”

- Act right dick™️ so don’t push him too far in public

- Definitely a bad influence!! You’re trying to be normal in public and he gives you a look

- Next thing you know he’s on his knees for you in a bathroom or an empty hallway🙄

- In the locker room so many times the rest of his friends already know, and when you two disappear they not stepping foot in there

- Buys you lingerie because he’s your biggest hype man

- When you feel confident you’re the most sexy

- “Mmm you look so good in that cute outfit, you won’t be too mad if I tear it off right?”

- Spreads your legs wide and will make you look in the mirror and watch as he fingers you open

- The type of man who fucks you so good you would get his name tatted on your ass

- Your family actually is probably like “don’t you go corrupting that sweet boy”

- And behind closed doors he’s got his hand holding your hair in a tight fist as he makes himself comfy in your throat

- “Let me hold your hair up for you💕”

- L$D- asap Rocky is also his song

[starryficsfinishwen]

✧。◟ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ — chrome x reader [PGR] [Happy Activation Day Chrome!!]

please don't be in love with someone else

a.n. - sometimes chrome just raghhhhhh. HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHROMEE!! I promise to finish that other fic for you LOL also thank you for being one of my resilient lil construct, my Lucia and Wanshi are happy to be with you <3 mwa mwa (IM SORRY AGAIN IM LATE)

pairing - chrome x f!commandant

words - 7,881 (it's why I took long TvT)

tags/warnings - none. fluff! alcohol is involved yet again! chrome x reader shenanigans. yall up to what happens in the end uwu. non-sexual naked cuddling. cute stuff for chrome because happy activation day!!

The stars seemed to have blessed Babylonia tonight.

A crowded room. A brightly lit, dazzling chandelier. Wine and champagne glasses clinking together. Orchestral music filling the room — this is a sight that those who can afford luxury would generally see in their life. High society placed itself on top of the pedestal, overlooking its body that wore no gold.

Forget the war that raged outside; Babylonia beheld the grandeur of the rich folk for tonight, and the stars had rewarded their presence by granting the brightest evening for them.

Such sight is normal to a Smith. After all, they were always born with a silver spoon, to feed and to be fed by high society, for everyone to see.

But not for Chrome. He always thought this life was never fit for him.

There he is — champagne in hand, forcing laughter and faking smiles to those who are around him. Humanoid legs are already used to the wages of war, yet they trembled under the hours of talking to people that only blur in his M.I.N.D.

He is only here due to his father, Mr. Smith. “For you to be familiar with the people you will work with in the future,” he always said to Chrome, “be on your best attitude. Show them the makings of a true Smith.”

But they only bore him. He would rather be doing things that are mundane in the eyes of high society, such as lounging in the comforts of Strike Hawk's dormitory; dealing with Kamui's antics, helping Wanshi fix his sleeping pod, tasting Camu's dishes...or cleaning the corners of his room, or strolling the walkways of Babylonia, or playing chess with a certain someone...

A scene flashed in his memory — a warm hand reaching out to him, a sweet smile, a soft laugh, and the chessboard with scattered chess pieces in front of him. A scene that happened not too long ago, a memory so fresh that made him flush a light shade of pink. Was it the alcohol? No, usual alcohol would never make a construct drunk, unless...?

“How are you holding up, Chrome?” A familiar voice called out to him.

Mr. Smith. Holding an identical champagne glass in his hand, he looks up to Chrome with an expectant gaze. Chrome straightens, clearing his throat. “Mr. Smith, I am doing well. I have met the people you told me earlier.”

“Glad to know,” He nods, “it's beneficial as a Smith to meet your future prospects. You know that already, Chrome, don't you?”

“I do, Mr. Smith,” Chrome solemnly spoke.

“Other than that, have you seen the Commandants who are invited tonight?” Smith tsked, “they have commendable records. They seem to enjoy tonight's feast before they go back to war once more. Especially Gray Raven's Commandant, hm.”

Chrome's ears perked up. “Gray Raven's Commandant is here tonight?”

He knew the party was for high society, with some specially invited commandants. Yet, Gray Raven's Commandant? He overlooked that part, why didn't he know?

“Yes, it's understandable due to the glory they have brought to Babylonia countless times now.” Smith paused, moving his hand to make a circular motion with his glass, “I've seen them earlier. Now, they are nowhere to be found.”

“Ah,” Chrome slightly faltered, muttering, “a shame.”

“They also seem to blend well with us, I'd say.” Smith hums, taking a sip from his glass now, “they look well with us, even. We should try asking them to join when they retire.”

A particular thought crosses in Chrome's M.I.N.D. — a person wearing a simple dress amongst the crowd yet so vibrant, the same warm hand he saw as she held onto his arm, smiling fondly at him. The very thought that somehow made his heart crumble in a good way —

“Chrome?” Smith asked, causing Chrome to snap back to reality, “are you alright? You look red.”

“I do?” Chrome muttered, “I'm sorry. There must be something wrong with my cooling system after I got injured last battle. I am planning to get a maintenance check once more.”

“Alright then,” waving his hand, Smith nodded, “I'll leave you be. I need to meet with other people.”

“Thank you, Mr. Smith.” Chrome approaches the nearby table tp place his glass, “I will return soon.”

Finally, away from the party, Chrome found himself lingering outside. The garden outside of the hall seems to be the answer to his dilemma, the cool breeze and the artificial night decorated with the authentic stars sparkling above him. He breathes into this sight — once more, a thought that popped into his M.I.N.D.

“The sight may be beautiful in Babylonia,” your voice sent shivers down his spine, “but the ones here on Earth are prettier.”

Bright irises staring at him with a gentle gaze amongst the dark plains, a genuine smile on your lips, “don't you think so, Chrome?”

The memory shook Chrome, his heartbeat skipping. What was it with him lately? Thinking of a particular person that he holds with high regard? It seemed unlike him, the man who only thought of perfection. Battles and tactics are his expertise that makes up his thoughts, yet such stray memories and incredulous scenarios have distracted him since his recent rendezvous with that certain commandant...

His hands tremble. They seem lonely. A small part of him wishes those familiar hands would hold them right now.

Gray Raven's esteemed Commandant. The very thought of her makes Chrome weak. He who should maintain a professional, beneficial relationship with her. Yet, thoughts beyond that relationship seemed to have spawned in his M.I.N.D.

Chrome entertains that thought to no avail. After all, a small part of him wishes he should have seen or heard from you tonight.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star~”

Yes, something like a nursery rhyme that is sung by you. Sometimes, Chrome thinks you drove him insane to the point that he's having hallucinations of you.

“...how I wonder where you are~”

Wait. That voice seems closer and familiar. Surely, he wasn't dreaming. Chrome rushes to the source of the voice.

“up above the world so high,” the voice hiccupped, “like a diamond in the ska-ay~!”

Chrome thinks this sight is one of the best he's ever seen: sitting on the ledge of a fountain, gazing at the water beneath, your sky-blue dress nearly submerged yet you didn't look like she minded; in fact, in your hand was a glass of unfinished wine, and your face seemed too pleased with your antics, a contagious smile written on your face.

Gray Raven Commandant in the flesh. And drunk. (According to Chrome's readings anyway)

“Commandant!” Chrome's voice - shaking? - echoed throughout the garden, making you look, “Over here! What are you doing?”

You finally look at Chrome, your usual bright eyes laced with tiredness and mirth. Upon recognizing the figure that was approaching you, you cheerfully raised your glass to him.

“Hello stranger!!” your shoulders shake with visible joy, “you're hereeee, come on, come on! Join me in watching the fishies~”

Stranger? Perhaps the alcohol fogged your senses. “Fishies?” Curious, Chrome follows where your hand points, to the fountain...devoid of any fish, “I...see?”

Instead of fish, Chrome could recognize that the 'fish' the Commandant referred to are the coins that people must have thrown into the fountain. The reflection brought by the moonlight highlighted with the pattern underneath the fountain must have tricked you into thinking she was talking to fishes. Not wanting to break your delight, Chrome plays along.

“I named that lil' blue fish Lee, because he looks grumpy.” You giggle as you point to a blue-shaded coin, “then that pink one is Liv!”

“That's cute, Commandant,” Chrome chuckles, opting to sit at a considerable distance from you, “who else did you name?”

Lights over the garden seemed ethereal. Haloed with the gentle glow of the skies, the white noise of the party inside the hall, and the mellow laughter of the Commandant — Chrome could easily capture this memory for a lifetime, although you couldn't recognize him. He could try taking away the glass in hand and tell you that you're drunk, but he does not. Instead, he asks more about the 'fishes' you found. And somehow, you went silent.

“Commandant?” Chrome gently pokes the silent Commandant, “are you alright?”

“Mmm,” closing your eyes, you tapped your chin, “stranger, I can't see Chrome...”

The nickname seems to grow on him now. “Well,” he shrugged, “maybe he's sleeping.”

“Fishies never sleep!” opening your eyes just to stare at Chrome, “that's basic knowledge!”

Chrome could finally see you properly: the dress snugly fit you, the train already submerged in the water. Some strands of your hair framed your face perfectly. Alcohol flushed your cheeks in the shade of pink. Irises that still lit brightly amidst the dark, a sight Chrome could never forget. Blinking to come back to reality, Chrome reached out to brush away the strand that was on your lips.

“Some fishes sleep with their eyes open.” Chrome smiled, “but what you said is still, it's true, Commandant is always smart.”

A smug smirk flashed on your lips, arms crossed to assert her amusement, “hm! I told you!”

One of the sleeves fell to your arm as you moved. Flickering to that, Chrome spoke before reaching out to lift it, “Yes, of course. Commandant, are you not cold?”

“Nope!” Somehow filled with a new burst of energy, you drunkenly placed the glass in front of Chrome, making Chrome reel back, before struggling to stand up on the ledge with the heels on. Chrome acts quickly, aiding you by holding your legs for support. “I realized something!”

“Commandant! What are you doing, get down!”

“I need to find Chrome!” you spoke with such reverence, it could make Chrome cry, yet it only made him scared, “he could be drowning!”

Drowning? “Commandant, I know you're smart,” Chrome hesitates, before speaking, “but fishes don't dro-”

“-I know what I'm doing!” you grin at him, rotating your arm as if exercising and exhales, “that's why I'm going to save him from this ocean!”

At that moment, Chrome realizes where he went wrong. “Wait, Commandant, no!”

At least he tried to stop her.

A shivering Commandant is wrapped in Chrome's coat for tonight.

“Are you alright, Commandant?” Chrome spoke as he ran through the streets, “do you still feel cold?”

After the stupid attempt at jumping head-first into the water, Chrome had to save you - even after trying to get away from his hold. Now, you were tightly wrapped in Chrome's coat, carried like a princess in his arms.

Sneezing, you shook your head furiously, “I'm fine, you stranger! Why did you stop me?”

“The waters in Babylonia in the evening get colder. I don't want you to suffer from hypothermia.”

You whine, before sneezing once more. “I was fine! Oh well, I managed to get Chrome though.”

“You managed to- what?”

Fishing out of his hold and the coat, you childishly held out a white and blue-tinted coin. Chrome could only sigh in disbelief.

“Also, put me down, you stranger!” Attempting to wiggle out, you whine more as Chrome tightens his hold on you, the familiar way illuminated by the lights already in sight, “my mama said not to trust strangers!”

“Right,” Chrome laughed, his heart skipping a beat, “don't worry, I'm taking you to Chrome right now.”

Halfway through the run, you drifted off to sleep (and it granted Chrome the opportunity to see you comfortable with your guard down). Finally, they arrived in front of the Smith Estate.

Carefully opening the door, Chrome is met with a comforting silence. Were the cleaning robots still around? He knew his father wouldn't be around until the next day, which meant the robots were the only company. Stepping inside, he finds the place deserted, the faint sound of the Commadant's breathing filling the room. Placing you (not minding the water dripping off of you) to his room on his bed, Chrome rushes to the kitchen.

Still no robots around. Easy to explain and less hassle to explain why a stranger was in his bed. He'll worry about that the next day. Quickly, he grabbed a few pieces of food from the fridge and concocted a hangover drink and water.

Upon returning to his room, Chrome finds you still asleep on his bed. Silently placing the items he brought for you, Chrome wistfully gazes at you.

“you're always taking care of me, Chrome,” you'd say if you were awake, your voice echoes in his M.I.N.D., “I want to return the favor.” (You are now corrupting his thoughts.)

A little stir from you made Chrome snap out of his daydream. Slowly opening your eyes, looking around your surroundings in a daze, Chrome leans down to check on you.

“Commandant,” he softly calls out to you, hand touching yours, “are you awake? Can you sit up?”

“Mmmhm,” rubbing your eyes as you sat up, Chrome aiding you, “where am I...?”

“You're in my room. I will take you back to Gray Raven's headquarters when you've freshened up and rested. Come on, drink some water.”

Your legs dangle on the side of Chrome's bed as you sat up. Your figure, although shivering from the stunt, still seems smaller than him. Chrome reached out to grab the glass of water and hold it out for you, but you only stare at him.

“Commandant?”

“Ch...” you whisper, slowly lifting your cold hands to cup Chrome's cheeks, “Chrome...”

His heart flutters at the call of his name. With a free hand, he caresses the hold on his cheeks. “Commandant?”

“Why are you...hot?”

Chrome's cheeks burn at your touch, he noticed. Was it really the cooling system, or that his growing fondness for the Commandant of another team making him like this?

“The cooling system,” he chose the first option, “I'm trying to get it checked, don't worry.”

“Mmh, Chrome...”

Your innocent, sleepy eyes were looking at him. And you were leaning closer to him. A human instinct, Chrome leans forward as well, until their foreheads touch.

“...Chrome. Why don't you call me by my name?”

It feels expensive. It feels surreal. He wanted to tell her, but the words die in his throat.

“I will only do so, if you wanted me to do it, Commandant.”

“Mmh.” Your breath fans Chrome's own lips, further intensifying the heat in both of your cheeks. “Then, Chrome...”

He closes his eyes. Closer, closer...until you pulled away so abruptly. And then, a warm liquid spilled across his chest.

Chrome's eyes opened. Sometimes, the timings are uncanny.

—

A bathtub full of bubbles, lavender dousing the room with its intoxicating smell. Near the bathtub, Chrome sweats nervously as he stares at the guilty figure sitting on the toilet.

“I'm sorry,” the Commandant, who was usually strong and courageous in the face of danger, shrunk in guilt, voice timid and remorse, “I didn't mean to puke in front of you.”

“It's alright, it's not your fault,” he dismisses it, smiling slightly, “I was planning to get you changed...”

He is already wearing a new set of clothing, compared to you. After that quick nap, you seem sober. But based on Chrome's readings, you are still far from being sober. At least, you recognize him now. Squeaking, you shook your head. “I can't just let it slide. Is there anything I can do for Chrome?”

Kneeling on one knee, Chrome awkwardly pats you. “It's okay, really. Um...”

A reddening blush was on Chrome's cheeks as the words died in his throat. He motions to your soiled clothes, clearing his throat in an attempt to gather his pride.

“Commandant, I am going to...” whispering, “...I'm going to take off your clothes so you can...um, take a bath.”

You stare at him. Blinking tired eyes at him, you slowly nodded. “Okay.”

You turn your back on him, presenting the zipper on your back. For you, it seemed normal (Liv and Lucia are always hands-on whenever you are invited to events like this, so they're seen what's behind those clothes). But Chrome, whose ventilation was now out of place from the possible outcomes running through his head, was shaking and turning into a blushing tomato.

“You can unzip me, Chrome,” you pipped, noticing Chrome's silence, “I can't reach the top.”

A shaky exhale from Chrome. He mutters something you couldn't hear, but could feel the small pressure from his hand holding your hair to the side before resting on your shoulder.

“I will...start unzipping you, Commandant.”

It feels...intimate. The way Chrome held onto the zipper with care, thoughts running wild in his M.I.N.D., dragging it down slowly. You notice it, despite the alcohol fogging your thoughts. The sound of Chrome's nervous breathing, the water dripping from the faucet, the bubbles on the tub — it almost makes you sober.

However, a question seemed to linger on your lips. But before you could ask, Chrome had already unzipped your dress, the sleeves finally down on your shoulders.

“I-I'm done, Commandant.”

You turned to Chrome, a smile on your lips, “Thank you! But...are you...okay...?”

“Yes.”

You weren't that convinced. In front of you, Chrome's hands shook, and his face was in the deepest shade of red. You tilted your head to the side, before shimmying out of your clothes. Yes, still in front of the man who has been nothing but an angel to you.

“I'm done!” You excitedly quipped, standing up, causing the dress to fall to the floor. “where am I going next?”

Seemingly snapping out of his trance, Chrome looks down to pick up your clothes and dashes to the door. He stops by the door frame, his back facing you. “I need to put your clothes in the washer. They'll be ready after you take a bath.”

“Chrome, will-”

But he was already out of the door.

Chrome remembers every part of the laundry process, even without help from the robots. Yet, even though he has loaded up the washing machine (he knows it'll be done in at least 2 hours, clean and fragrant), his hands are still shaking, the memory in the bathroom turning his mind into a haze.

Even when he closed his eyes after he unzipped your dress, or when he heard it drop to the floor, he couldn't help but imagine — how your skin must feel under his touch, soft or smooth; the expanse of your back, would there be goosebumps like when you touch him; would there still be a smile on your face even when you would know about his feelings?

He accidentally slams the door of the washing machine too hard. It's all pointless, really; all he wanted was to show how eager his rapt attention, yet terrified that he may have crossed unwanted boundaries. Maybe he needed some rest. That's right - it has been a long week anyways. Sighing, he leaves to go back to the bathroom, in case you fell back to sleep...

— except, he called it too early.

“Chroooome,” you cried out as you whimpered in the tub, bubbles covering everywhere but your face, “I'm drowning!”

Suffice to say, he wasn't going to be relaxed tonight.

The water was warm.

And so was the hand that you wish you held onto as you dangled your arm on the ledge of the tub, reaching out to Chrome, who sat on the floor. You wanted something - but the golden boy wouldn't budge.

“Join meee,” you pouted, “don't you see I am a lonely girl sitting here so lonely?”

The light of the bathroom casts a glow over Chrome's frame. The sound of the water splashing around, paired with his humming, sends your mind in a close lullaby, you fear you'll only fall asleep at this rate.

“I see you well, Commandant.” He shook his head, “however, I will stay here.”

“Mean.” Huffing, you sunk to the comforts of the bubbling water, feigning annoyance to him “At least I could wash your hair...you said you'd allow me to see you with your hair down...”

“Commandant,” it's a surprise how Chrome could still hold his composure, voice calm and cool, “you are drunk. You are also very dirty, so it's best you wash up now and get dressed in something warm.”

“I'm not drunk!” Exasperatedly raising your hands, you glared at Chrome, “and I can't wash my hair...”

You look at him expectantly, to which he stares back with curiosity. Pointing to your wet hair, you whispered. “I always wondered what it's like to have my hair washed.”

“And?”

“Will you...wash my hair, please, Chrome?”

Crossing his arms, he thinks for a moment. “Will you promise not to do anything stupid?”

“No.”

As he scoots closer to you, you reeled back. Chrome mistook it as something else, when he sees the look on your face.

“...don't tell me you are planning to wash my hair in that.”

“Pardon?”

“Strip!” you pouted, “I get fussy when someone isn't touching me.”

In an instant, you see Chrome's cheeks tint a shade of pink. “Commandant, that sounded...”

“Hurry up,” you yawned, scooting a little closer to the faucet on your legs, “I won't look.”

True to your word, you look elsewhere but wherever Chrome was. Raising your hands high to your face (look how pruned they are, the longer you stay), before the shuffling of clothes and the sound of cautiousness tiptoes its way into the water, beside you. From your peripheral vision, you see two hands reach out to hold your open hands — have these hands looked so lonely until Chrome came?

“Look at you,” he huffs, fingers caressing the pad of your pruned fingers, “you should have been faster.”

You find comfort in this cramped space — the warm water that you're doused in, a familiar body close to yours, a heat that you never realized you've been craving all this time. You crawl; on Chrome's legs, your scent intertwined with the smell of lavender, you hope it rubs on the man beside you. Unknowingly, you crawled further, until your back hits the sturdy structure of Chrome's physique, leaning back to curl up in his chest.

“Can we stay like this?” the words slipped past your mouth, faster than you could have noticed. Without a word, his hands drifted to the expanse of your shoulders, your arms, your clavicle.

His hands rest there, as your body relaxes in his embrace. The subtle, erratic beating of his heart is there, it's not a surprise when yours mirrored his. And you smell the hint of vanilla on his skin, forgetting that he's humanoid in these very small moments. Yet, you breathe into it, the smell lulling you to sleep faster.

“If you want to,” he mutters, “I thought you wanted to rest.”

“I do, but I feel comfortable when there's someone else.”

The quiet snap of the shampoo bottle opens. Along the way, he places his hands over your head, gently massaging the tips of your hair to make the shampoo bubble, to your scalp. Gentle, soft as he held you like this. The way he pours the water over your head, careful enough to not let it reach your eyes. You must smell like lavender now; the scent already sinking into your skin, like how Chrome's warmth was seeping onto your cold ones. His touch felt unreal, it makes you want the world to freeze for a moment and only behold this scenario for a long, long time.

“Commandant,” even his voice was a whisper, movements slowing to a stop, a telltale sign that he's done, and a little emotion was hanging on your chest - annoyance - “finish up washing now. Your hair is done.”

A dissatisfied grunt escaped your lips. Sitting up straight, you turned to him, hands outstretched. “Let me wash your hair too.”

Slightly looking down from your chest, his eyes shot up to meet yours, the blush that was on his cheeks already invading his ears. “N-No. This bath is only for you, Commandant.”

“Pleaseeee,” you dawdled, brushing away the bangs that covered his face, “I want to help you.”

Although hesitant, he lets you anyway; you, crawling to straddle his thighs, reaching out for the shampoo on your right. His eyes were carefully trailing your movement, which made you shrink under his grasp, but you never minded (after all, the both of you are naked in front of each other, what else was the difference?). You mimicked his movements: massaging the scalp, entirely focused on how you moved your hands on him.

“You're so pretty, Chrome...”

“Huh...?”

“I'm drunk but you're still pretty.” you giggled, booping his nose, “in the morning, when I'm sober, I know you'll be prettier.”

You thread your hands into his hair now, forgetting that bubbles should come out, but you're too focused on everything around you, drowsiness coming to catch you.

“Your hair,” you mumbled, aware of his hands placed on your waist, “...it feels really soft.”

“Does it?” He chuckled, eyes closing, “I'm glad you think so, Commandant.”

Commandant. A title you've always worn, but the way he called you that, a gnawing feeling crammed in your chest — with that pretty mouth of his, a stray thought made you think: what would it be like if he were to say your name?

“You never call me by my name.”

Turquoise irises locked with yours. Unable to pull away, mesmerized by the magnitude it beheld as you stared at each other — you wanted to speak, but Chrome beats you to it.

“I- I never thought I'm allowed to say it.” Looking away, the flush you've seen earlier came back and dusted his cheeks, “we never established it before.”

“Call me by my name then, Chrome.”

You wonder how your name would sound when it leaves his lips. You wonder, if the sound of your heartbeat reverberates if speaks, if he calls you in a name hidden behind your title — and for a moment, you've realized.

“[Y/N],” it is quiet, a soft tone calling for your name, “[Y/N],”

All you could do is close your eyes. Your mind is racing. The sound of two people, breathing in the silence, in the warmth of another's presence. The bubbles are now dissolving in your fingers and in his hair, you're certain the ones on your head are gone too. Were you still drunk, or had the intensity of your feelings reached its threshold? It made your mind spin, and your fingers tremble. What was going on?

“Did that sound weird?” You opened your eyes to find Chrome's worried gaze. Still realizing the situation you're both in - and yet you were both comfortable now - you opened your mouth, only to close it.

You realized you've always liked Chrome all this time.

And the way he said your name is far from what you've imagined. You breathe in once more at his appearance: disheveled hair coated in shampoo, flushed cheeks in contrast to his pale complexion, doe-eyed in the shade of the light. Of course, you had to fall for this man. And it made your heart ache - alcohol or the touches alone? Who knows.

“No.” You quietly spoke, looking away, hiding the blush on your cheeks, “I...want to get out now.”

Chrome doesn't say a word. Instead, he stood up and left you there - confused, in a daze. When he comes back, a pair of clothes were on his arms.

“Can you stand, co...I mean, [Y/N]?”

“Thank you for the clothes.”

You spoke by the time you re-entered his room, the oversized shirt hanging loosely on your body. You looked at your appearance in the mirror twice before leaving the room, where you'd deemed it was good enough, however; judging by the way Chrome was staring at you intensely, head to toe, you couldn't help but wonder - is something wrong?

Chrome must have changed the sheets first, the shade of blue occupying the space on the bed. He now stood behind a smaller stool, a hair dryer in hand. You awkwardly stood, gesturing to the sight behind you: “I promise I'll repay you back when I get back.”

“The shirt,” He looks away for a moment, before clearing his throat, “it looks...good on you.”

You looked down — the oversized white shirt with the print fading away reaching down your thighs, just above your knees. At least, you were wearing something to combat the cold, yet your back catches the wetness of your hair, which made your temperature drop further. Noticing this, Chrome motions you to sit on the stool.

You are compliant with his wishes. He starts to turn the hair dryer on, before carefully handling your hair. In front of you was a tall mirror, which must have been Chrome's height. As he gently starts to dry your hair, you take in your surroundings - it's your first time in Chrome's room. As they say, the bedroom reflects its owner; tidy, neat, and everything in place. Various books with small print on the spine you couldn't make out on the shelves, the Queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. A perfectly neat study table with a few papers here and there near the dresser of the bed. It brings you to shame, how cleanly Chrome sets up his room which is far different from yours.

It reflects; your senses in a daze as you feel Chrome weaving through your locks, attentive to how his turquoise irises are on his masterpiece. Your eyes look up at his face once more.

“You also look good with your hair down.”

His attention flickers back to you. It's true - he looks more human this way, hair framing his face. Blinking slowly, he sheepishly laughs. “Ah, I always have my hair down after a shower. Do I look weird?”

“No.” You admit, “you look handsome still.”

Another wave of silence washes over. You realize you're more sober this way, the guilt of not talking too much gnawing on the back of your throat. But you are thankful, Chrome takes the opportunity.

“You are wearing my shirt that the F.O.S. gave,” humming, he brushes away the hair on your back, heat radiating off on your back, “they gave it shortly after graduation. I took it before father could notice.”

The hair dryer shuts off. He places it on the dresser, eyes still on your now-dried hair. You asked, “does your father not want you wearing these things?”

“He thinks it's useless. After all, medals and honor are the only valuable things the college would give to you.”

“But I see that it seems well-used,” you smell the cologne Chrome uses every day, “like you've always worn it.”

His hand is on your shoulder, tracing the outline. “Shortly after my Construct surgery, I always wore this. Anywhere as long as my father wouldn't see.”

A thought where Chrome wears the shirt comes to mind, in bed, clutching the fabric. Holding a handful and raising it to your nose, you spoke, “is there a reason?”

But he only sighs. “I am a Construct.” He looks up to meet your eyes in the mirror, “I am made for war. I threw away my humanity a long time ago.”

Those words tugged a hidden emotion in you. Spinning to meet his figure, you craned your neck just so you can properly look at him. Words are bubbling in your mouth, but it comes out dry.

Yet, you try anyway. “It's true that you're made for war, but you shouldn't be denied of these...”

“It's alright, co...[Y/N].” The call of your name sends your heart into somersaults, “I've learned it the hard way. There is no need for me to feel that way anymore.”

“Besides,” he added, as he got on one knee, smiling, “it's time for you to take a nap. It's past 2 am now. I wouldn't want my Commandant to be sleep deprived, yes?”

“I-” you looked at Chrome, you don't pretend you didn't mishear his words. Looking at his irises, you took a deep breath.

“The first time I saw Chrome,” you began, “I always thought you were attractive.”

That caught his attention. Tilting his head with an eyebrow raised, he curiously asked, “I'm sorry?”

“I wondered why a human like me was roaming around the city ruins that day.” You fidgeted with the hem of your clothes, “But then, I saw your inver-device.”

Ah, this memory. Chrome remembers it fondly. In the heat of dispute, where Lee had been injured badly, he doesn't remember if it was the situation at hand or the way the sunlight shone down on you that day - either way, he always thought it was something for that moment.

“It didn't change one bit of my impression of you.” You take a deep breath, “I think...it became something else.”

Your heart beats chaotically. You're sure it's the alcohol, but you're also aware that it's your feelings shaping at this very moment. Your hands tremble with want - to hold Chrome, to hold his hand.

“Something else?”

“I don't see you as a Construct, Chrome,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his chin, eyes trailing where your finger touched, “I see you more than that.”

You're aware; his gaze on you, as his own fingers shake as they touched yours. Such feelings have echoed in your mind, and you are afraid they wouldn't go away unless you tell them upfront. Are you scared to be rejected? Too bad, you're not; let the alcohol drain all your fears tonight.

“I don't want you to keep calling me 'Commandant'. I don't like it when you see me as someone from F.O.S., but I like it when you touch me, or when you're close to me-”

His hand is holding yours now. Firm, gentle. He's in front of you, and you swore you could see the future reflect in his irises. It's warm, the way he grasped your hand, fingertips touching his lips. His eyes are closed - a single kiss on every finger, mouth muttering some kind of prayer.

“[Y/N],” he whispers on your fingers, gazing at you with an expression you've never seen him make before.

Loving. Adoration. Something along those lines. It claws on your stomach, inching up to the top, that if you opened your mouth you would regret.

“When I saw you at that time, I didn't know what to think. I remember thinking: would you only be another soldier I will see on the battlefield, regardless if dead or alive?”

“Am I the former?”

“A part of me thought so. But...”

He pauses, before taking your hand to his chest, a strong vibration echoing there. Your heart feels the same, it wishes to free itself from the cages of your ribcage and into whatever was in the middle of the both of you.

“If I were to lose you, I...wouldn't know what I'll do.”

Heaviness weaves in your chest. You wrap your arms around his neck for support, blissfully unaware of the distance left between your lips. “Chrome,”

“[Y/N], I cannot...”

“I like you, Chrome.” It is a genuine confession. You never lied. “I like you too much, that I feel like my heart can't handle it if you disappear on me, too.”

A confession that brought tears to your eyes. “I want to run away with Chrome. I don't want to be away from you.”

“I'm not going away.” He took you by the waist, propping you on his thighs, “I'm here.”

“Meeting you...being here with you...it feels enchanting.” You closed your eyes, blindingly touching wherever your hands meet, “Please don't be in love with someone else...”

Chrome feels like it's the first time for him to recognize the ability to love. The passion for studying, living in the moment where examinations take place, keeping everything orderly — it has always been how he always lived. Yet, for the first time — someone was here in his room, in his touch, in this space. It makes him greedy; it makes him wild.

“[Y/N],” his hands cup your cheek, nuzzling your cheek, “I feel the same way. I like you - I adore you. Every glory I will bring to you, it will be all for you.”

That confession triggered something inside of you - to bridge the gap between the both of you. Leaning forward, the urge to slam your lips to him right there and then grows fervently. However, a hand stops your advances. Pulling back, you are met with a blushing Chrome, looking at you in awe.

“Comman- I mean, [Y/N], as much as I want to kiss you...I cannot. I can't kiss you when you are still drunk.”

“But I want to, let me show you how much I like you.”

His hand easily slips under your shirt, warm ones grasping your hips, rubbing circles around it, “In the morning. When you are sober, when you are about to make better judgement. I will let you do whatever you want.”

A mischievous smile graced your lips. “Anything?”

The blush on his face became a darker shade. Shyly nodding, “Yes, anything.”

He eases into his arms. Lifting you up and carrying you to bed, a thought crosses your mind — you, in a long white gown, and him, in a silver tuxedo. You see him in the lights of the room, illuminated in this dark evening, his smile sending ripples of your heart into motion. You see him this way, your hand carrying a bouquet of flowers that you both love, your fingers intertwined with a ring of promise. In your thoughts he carries you like this, and you swore it felt familiar; one day, you wish. You would have to tell him in the morning.

But for now, the alcohol hits you harder more than ever, drowsiness threatening to shut your eyes. As you felt yourself dip into the mattress - his bed - you wish you could stay with him, the lingering warmth on your skin now fading as you feel him pull away. But your mouth is a jumbled mess, only opting for the fatigue to succumb to you. So, you use your hand, grasping whatever you could reach - his shirt, his hand, his arm.

“Don't go.” You beg, voice laced with grogginess and want, “won't you stay here?”

“I will be sitting here next to you. Don't worry, I'm not going away.”

“No,” your voice sounds like you're pleading now, “don't go, stay beside me. I want you to be beside me when I wake up.”

“[Y/N]...”

“Stay with me, Chrome.”

With a sigh, you feel the space beside you dip. The shuffling of sheets, the smell of lavender invading your weary senses. At last, warm hands enclose yours, before placing them close to his lips, one last kiss before darkness consumed your senses.

“Goodnight, [Y/N],” you knew he'd tell you that, “I will see you in the morning.”

Chrome doesn't see you in the morning.

When sunlight slipped through the windows, he woke up to an empty space beside him. Disappointment comes knocking on his door, calling out that he was only dreaming for something unreal, something that only humans would indulge in. Although the sheets prove that someone else was here with him last night, he doesn't dwell on that slipping hope. Instead, disappointment and frustration, paired with despondency, makes a home inside his chest and his M.I.N.D.

No longer interested in ruminating on the mattress, he drags himself out of bed. However, the robots that usually greet him aren't around still. But the floors and the walls on the rooms he passed are cleaner than what he saw last night.

Probably elsewhere. Probably at the garden.

But the glass door to the garden shows no signs of robots, at least where his sight can reach. No robots cutting grass or cleaning the pool. At times like these, they should've been around. Where were they?

A sound of an R5 cleaning robot chimes in nearby. Chrome follows the sound, and the sight isn't something he was expecting.

“You did well,” your voice feels like a cloud, floating amongst the sea of beeping robots, “thank you for your help.”

Your back faces Chrome. Crouching in front of a faceless R5 cleaning robot, you gently patted its "head", small giggles on your lips.

“You're a good robot, aren't you,” the sound of beeping seemingly mirroring an appreciative noise, “you're a very good robot.”

A sizzle comes out of the oven, to which you jump to your feet, scrambling to reach the stove. “Ah, it's getting burned!”

Chrome couldn't help but admire you; the way you move, your interactions with the robots although lifeless, and your cautiousness seemed to boost his adoration for you. It must have been his M.I.N.D., but the sunlight on your toes, his shirt that fits you perfectly despite being too big for you, and the smile as you tasted whatever you were cooking — it hits him harder. The want, the like, the adoration for someone he could never think he'd fall for. The feeling that his chest had earlier disappeared; only warmth began to repair its fractured roots.

“Chrome?” Your quiet voice called out, the beep of the robot chiming in, “you're awake.”

“And you're here.”

Is this what pining feels like? An unspoken feeling that settles deep between the distances of the two of you. He knows he shouldn't hope, when a night drowned in alcohol remembers nothing. Yet, the way your eyes seem to tell him something, he hopes to cling onto whatever was left in his pride.

“Good morning,” he spoke, aware of his morning voice now, “I apologize that you had to be the one to cook.”

“N-no, it's alright! The robots mostly did the work. I merely supported them.”

“Still,” he slowly approached you, timid footsteps leading to you, “the fact that you treat them as if they're human too speaks a lot.”

“It's even a surprise that they show no hostility to you. They are trained to fend off those who are unfamiliar in the household.”

“Commandant [Y/N] is welcomed.” the robot from earlier chirped, “helped us with housework.”

“Mr. Smith also invited me here once in a while to talk about politics.” You shrugged, opting to pat the robot once more, “I just did a favor for them.”

You nodded to it, to which it purrs in your touch. Satisfied, it happily trots away, probably deciding to work elsewhere.

Another silence. You've decided to go back and finish cooking the food, but the fire had long been doused (probably from the advancement of this stove?). Chrome wants to talk, yet no words could be formulated in his head. After the agonizing long silence, you took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.

“I remember what happened last night.”

Chrome freezes. He looks up to meet your guilty eyes looking elsewhere. “You do?”

“I...am regretful that I puked on you. That's why I decided to clean up here as an exchange.”

Ah, so you don't remember what happened afterwards. Chrome's heart sinks, before noticing you looking away, and a creeping blush on your cheeks.

“I...also remember that I asked you to take a bath with me.”

Memories of last night came crashing over his M.I.N.D. The garden, the bed, the bathtub, the hair dryer, and your skin — all a mixture of things that only makes him go haywire. His blush mirrors yours; that means one more thing.

“I also remember telling you how I feel.” You began, “and I...”

The sinker comes. And Chrome's heartbeat isn't sure now. But you - you approached him, eyes down, figure covered, but reaching out to him. With shallow breaths, you raised your hand to his chest, before looking up. And there - your eyes meet his. Same innocent, shimmering eyes looking at him with vigor, with enchantment; he forgets how to breathe.

“I like you, Chrome.”

You've said it once more. Sober, genuine, and true. And it breaks Chrome's heart into pieces, folded and mashed into dough, before it forms in the shape of a heart. You've set the oven now; his feelings are ready to be baked, ready to be eaten - and he wants you. No, he needs you to be the one to take it.

“I still like you, even when I'm drunk or sober. I want to be with you all the time. I want you, Chrome. I want you to be part of the future that I am building.”

Wordlessly, he captures your hips and pulls you close, him leaning down just so the proximity knows no bounds. He feels your breath ghost his lips, your heartbeat in his ribcage - it beats, and beats, and beats so loudly he forgets you're in the kitchen at daylight; in a house he's grown up with no love, but he's here now. Creating a love that no Smith can forge.

“A concrete object made of materials and information, whose borders are continuously constructed and reconstructed,” said the definition for 'Smith'. He could live in that definition forever, but what about Chrome?

“I am forging a new one.” He whispers, “I am...bridging the new future with you.”

Your eyes are shining, and there he knew-

“I like you, too, [Y/N].”

If only bodies were capable of seeing what's happening underneath, a cadenza ringing in Chrome's heart, beating furiously for you, only you. You smiled, a mischievous gaze written across your face.

“Does the offer about me doing anything I want when I'm sober still stand?”

He smiles back. “Of course.”

“I want to kiss you.”

Tiptoeing to reach Chrome's height, you craned your neck and tugged his shoulder. But Chrome is kind; he hoists you up by the hips, capturing your lips in an instant.

Sweet is a word to describe the first kiss Chrome shared with someone in his life. Forget the war, forget that you're on the kitchen island; it's only two lovers baring their adoration for one another, sharing a kiss blessed in daylight. It's warm, it's soft, it's needy - the way you both melt into each other, how you wrapped your arms around his neck, or how his hands are holding you up. Enchanted, Chrome's M.I.N.D. echoes, it's really enchanting.

Satiated, you both pull away, breathless, as your foreheads touch. He doesn't let you go, though. You (unfortunately) do, when the other kitchen door opens, a parade of little robots bursting through the door.

You cheer as the little robots go through the surprise: a small banner written "Happy Birthday!" hastily, and the cake you baked earlier with the robots. Chrome looks at you confused, before noticing what the parade had brought.

“How-”

“Happy birthday, Chrome,” You beamed, hands cupping his cheeks, “you deserve the celebration.”

“Thank you.” He whispers on your chin, leaving little kisses there, “I really appreciate this...I appreciate you.”

“You should enjoy today.” You winked, “my birthday present to you is for later.”

“Later?”

You squeezed his arm. He blushes. “Yes, later.”

Chrome is thankful his heart doesn't need to somersault out of his chest now. At least, until later.

HAPPY LATE ACTIVATION DAY CHROME!!!!!! please like, reblog, share, comment down on this post! don't copy and plagiarize my work!!