#also no white or gold skin really????

[katstwistedmind]

tagged by @curvyelf to make some of my ocs in this elf maker ♡♡♡

Arrow (skyrim) Viniriel Ash'Llanyth (morrowind)

tagging: @awkwxrdapple @necromancernextdoor @saintedbythestorm  @fallenfromfirmamentt @slow-motion-shadow

[the-redacted-of-all-time]

actually chat idk how to feel abt this skin anymore

(some long ahh ranting in the tags btw)

[hauntingblue]

Toranaga's son is so funny. Failson 🫵🏻

[milo-is-rambling]

Made the wheel of better things than morty bc I was bored

[circuslollipop]

am thinking some thoughts abt ouabh character design,,,

[aphrodeiities]

ᴀꜱᴛᴇʀᴏɪᴅ ʙᴇʟʟᴀ [695]

follow for more content <3

get a chart reading done!

❦  asteroid bella [695] is an asteroid that means beauty, how and where you value beauty. this asteroid is also about your beauty on an energetic level, and how it manifests and shines.

♇ ASTEROID BELLA IN 1H/ARIES ⟶ very in your face beauty, sharp and very bold. strong features, cheekbones are strong. head might be prominent even forehead. can value beauty a lot and even chase it. can even chase compliments. embracing sexuality, and very bombshell type of beauty. nice body and even chest. might have a beauty spot on their face or body.

♇ ASTEROID BELLA IN 2H/TAURUS ⟶ can value beauty a lot. can only feel valued when they feel beautiful, very earthy type of beauty. like garden fairy or nymph type of attraction. very good singers, could like to kiss a lot. might buy a lot of beauty and self-care products. very feminine beauty, makes the people around them calm, and can have a really nice scent and voice.

♇ ASTEROID BELLA IN 3H/GEMINI ⟶ the girl next door type of beauty. my friend's "sister" or like the school crush. could never see them again type of beauty. could either be careless about their beauty or could be very anxious about it. they could be the type of people to care about the trends, influencer type of essence like leah halton and can be a charming person, very flirtatious. could look similar to a relative.

♇ ASTEROID BELLA IN 4H/CANCER ⟶ looking like your mother type of beauty, could have nice chests and cheekbones, the "i want to make you my wife or baby mother " type of beauty, beware of trappers! many beauty spots especially around chest area. classical type of beauty, like old hollywood. luscious hair and mysterious type of essence, classic television type of beauty, childhood crush and very sea mother type of energy.

♱ ASTEROID BELLA IN 5H/LEO ⟶ youthful but glamorous type of beauty. curly/big hair like starfire type of beauty. nice posture, could pose a lot, very 2000's beauty, not y2k aesthetic specifically. born for the spotlight, gold highlights and being a superstar type of essence. "i think you're famous" or "i think i've seen you before" type of beauty. stuck in your mind. could have beautiful children, creative and expressive style, many colours or dramatic makeup.

♱ ASTEROID BELLA IN 6H/VIRGO ⟶ classy type of beaut, might look for trends you could fit in. clean girl type of beauty; can chase beauty and could strive for perfection. "office girl" type of essence, glasses and cosplaying as another identity. wants to be better than other people, others could feel judged around them. work crush type of beauty. other people could envy your looks.

♱ ASTEROID BELLA IN 7H/LIBRA ⟶ temperance card/angel type of beauty. approachable, looks like a kind person, reminds me of the type of girl you would see in a perfume advert. light colour palette. flowy hair could be straight, can be very hip when it comes to their beauty, "she's like a rainbow" type of beauty, from the song she's a rainbow by the rolling stones. very beautiful people, could be known for that, and might take care of themselves all the time and could care of the opinions of others too much. could look nice in suits.

♱ ASTEROID BELLA IN 8H/SCORPIO ⟶ striking beauty, like a vampire. van helsing/dracula's brides. or like form interview with the vampire. could intimidate other people, other people would want to know your secrets. embracing sexuality and putting dark make up on yourself with white eyeshadow, it reminds me of alexa demie and gabriette. dark hair, luscious, big fur cat, wide and sharp smile, more succubus than siren.

♇ ASTEROID BELLA IN 9H/SAGITTARIUS ⟶ another very in your face type of beauty, colourful beauty, might be fetishised, "exotic beauty", very catchy beauty; ambiguous as well. golden skin, type of holiday romance type of crush, can look good in a variety type of make up, especially blues. dimples and a lot of beauty moles, very nice hair, the attractive person in an air port. the type to be everybody's type. easy-going energy, makes other people laugh, and their humour also makes them attractive.

♇ ASTEROID BELLA IN 10H/CAPRICORN ⟶ another classic beauty, being a model type of beauty. slicked back hair and up do's. type to influence other people with their styles, strong and sharp features, either jaw, cheeks or eyebrows. can look good in either muted or bold colours, women in suits, intimidating beauty, cares about how they look. another indicator of work-crush type of beauty, are known for their attractive features, could have a nice body as well.

♇ ASTEROID BELLA IN 11H/AQUARIUS ⟶ very other-worldly type of beauty, alien, mermaid and fairy. the type to rock every outfit you wear, creating trends and could gain fame on the internet because of your looks. being eccentric makes you liked by other people, could be the friend crush, or you crush on other friends. could also manifest to your friends friend having a crush on you. "i did it first" type of beauty, like make up trend other people might find weird in the beginning but as time passes they would follow it.

♇ ASTEROID BELLA IN 12H/PISCES ⟶ mystical beauty, past lover type of beauty. "i think i know you from another life." haunting and siren beauty. like a ghost, has the type of essence that'll make other people want to drop everything for you. but could chase compliments/people. others could envy your beauty. glamour magick type of attraction. could be watched a lot, can draw people in easily. people could stalk you because of your looks. could remind other people of the fae, could be the one that envies other people.

masterlist

get a chart reading

♇ pluto

[lunarliyah]

venus placements and color theory ౨ৎ

Aries venus

you guys already know by now. REDS. we love seeing you guys embody any shade of red. From the bloody reds to the burgundy. i also would associate you guys with *burnt* orange. Think of fire, since you guys are so fiery, mostly red and orange. red hair looks amazing on Aries venus. like AMAZING. even, again, burnt orange hair colors as well.

Taurus venus

love browns on you guys. deep dark browns. all i can think of is victoria monet, who is a taurus sun and taurus venus and she really OWNS that color. like you guys really invented brown. quite literally. More wood colors, like dark wood browns. mahogany. *chefs kiss*

Gemini venus

bright yellows. yellow gold jewelry. you all are very open with color and don’t mind wearing variety of colors. but because yellow is such a social color, a more inviting and expressive color, it just works for you guys every time. skin pops with the color yellow with gemini venus people. gemini venus and blonde hair, beautiful. blonde hair fits so well.

Cancer venus

white. because cancers are such a feminine sign, the sign of the mother, such a pure and soft yet bright and shining like the moon, white looks absolutely gorgeous on cancer venus. also i feel like because cancer venus can keep white clean as well. cancer venus people like looking clean and not busy or whimsical.

Leo venus

alright leo venus’s, y’all know how stunning y’all look in orange. but like the original orange color. it’s so lovely on you guys. even men with orange suits. it just works, all the time. silk orange material to represent royalty.

Virgo venus

GREEN. please y’all look so good and rich in green. very grounded color. can even be seen as sensual. deep emerald green makes you guys also look like royalty.

Libra venus

pinks, y’all knew this was coming. light pinks to hot pinks to soft pinks. it doesn’t matter, it makes you guys extremely approachable and inviting. you look very confident in pink.

Scorpio venus

y’all know y’all own the color black. its natural and effortless. its such a power move to wear black to important events for you guys. this color just demands respect. ESPECIALLY when all the black pieces you’re wearing matches. black hair as well.

Sagittarius venus

my sag venus’s yall can never do any wrong in the color purple. dark purle to light lilac purples. you look astonishing in purple clothing. definitely breaking necks with that color choice.

Capricorn venus

grey grey grey. so conservative and stoic like in that color. literally grey looks so dry and boring on others but on you guys it commands attention and it fits so well. silver jewelry as well with dark or light shades of grey. such a effortlessly sexy color choice for y’all.

Aquarius venus

deep royal blues. dark navy blues really demands so much attention when you guys wear it. very attractive and gorgeous on you guys. jewelry with sapphire crystal.

finally

Pisces venus

you guys are very experimental with your appearance. im saying iridescent and light blues. baby blues look so good on you all. very shiny material thats out of this world. eye catching. diamonds looks great on pisces venus’s. multicolor choices. and dreamy light blues. also highlights in your hair looks so good on you all.

*make sure we are giving credit when its due and not stealing other people’s work*

thank you all for reading. to book a reading with me, link in bio

[cinhomi]

Dilf! Minho though he had enough of paternity after his divorce and his own children. He loved them, but he didn't want more..until the new babysitter comes to the picture and suddenly he has the biggest breeding kink not even his wife could pull from him

YES YES YES LIKE, the only good thing his ex ever did was hiring you to watch the kids for both of them, really. and you're even a sweet, smart, pretty girl...

your skin is so smooth and clear, not a wrinkle in sight for another ten years at least, always dressed nicely to make a good impression for the world that is still knowing you, sweet perfume making his mouth water when he's near you. the shape of your ass in those tight jeans you often wear is always the last thing he sees when he leaves the house and stays a little bit more at the entrance to watch you turn your attention back to his precious kids.

and god the way you take care of his children. he once came back and heard you scold them and it was the hottest thing ever, like as if you were their real mom... would you like that? he asks this to himself everytime it's his turn to keep them and you tag along. Minho gave you permission to do pretty much whatever you need with them, for them. when he comes home from a long stressful day at work and he finds you cooking because you "think it's better if they eat something homemade instead of take-out" a lovely domestic image presents in front of him, something that he never got to see with his past marriage.

when he stands beside you to help, his white shirt's sleeves rolled up his surprisingly big arms, veins adorning them like they're pieces of jewelry... you don't expect your core to tighten. but you never really expect him having an effect on you everytime he comes close, when he gently touches your waist to get past you, when he softly presses on your back and grabs something from behind you.

he's such an attracrive, elegant kind man, profoundly devoted to his son and his daughter, how could he ever end up with such a disgusting woman previously? you hate her. you hate her so much because she lets her own children stay more with their father and a babysitter than her but you're also grateful to see him more often. you're by now part of the family, you got to know a lot about each other.

dilf Minho who watches you smile adoringly while you help him put his treasures to sleep and tuck the covers under them, his daughter whispering in a breath, probably accidentally and halfawy in the world of dreams a "thank you mommy".

and it all just... clicks. yeah he didn't really want to be a father of three or more, heck his first two kids were the result of a marriage that was already collapsing at the time, and even if he loves them endlessly the idea of more wasn't that appealing. before meeting you.

so that night he doesn't let you leave. he pictures in his mind the outline of yours and his lips in one, not just for a simple kiss, but... as to envision them on another little puffy face. the color of your eyes his so, so beautiful to him and combined with his nose, his lashes, your eyebrows, both your hair, heck even the shape of your ears... he's convinced you could give him such a beautiful baby.

ahh, his ex was beautiful too don't get him wrong, his kids are kissed by the sun itself, but you, damn, you. he wants a baby from you. he needs to see if what he imagined will turn out right, or even more beautiful. Minho needs to fuck you hard and deep to be sure you leave his house stuffed with his next child and he needs to have you always ready for him because he plans on taking you whenever you two are alone, where and how doesn't matter.

the sight of his hair with few silver strikes at the sides, gold thin necklace jumping on his still pumped pecs, strong arms keeping your legs up his shoulders... it's all almost too much combined with the way he's deep inside you thrusting at a speed and with an angle that makes you almost ascend to heaven, something no other younger guy was ever able to do.

"lower your voice pretty, don't wanna wake up the kids hm?" he whispers just before sloppily kissing you to shut you up.

you already came on his fingers in the hallway where he couldn't wait to have you all for him to use, making you lay your back on the wall while he pressed himself onto you, his fingers inside your little hole as he spread them and caressed your walls. he made sure to prep you well, you had to be ready to take loads and loads of his cum after all, right?

and you came on his tongue too when he finally picked you up and ran to his cold clean bedroom, one that no woman after his ex wife saw, when he told you he was in exctasy.

"I've never had a more delicious cunt in my entire life" he said, clit circling in his mouth right after, then his tongue fucking you, then your juices all around his face. he surely had more experience than you, and your pussy being the best he ever laid his tongue on? well, it's more than a compliment to you.

all that to make you so dumb you don't even have a chance to protest against his plan.

"gonna make you so full kitten, you'll carry a baby for me yeah? is that right? you'll do that."

you're still too young to be thinking about being a mother but he makes it sound so, so tempting. you'd have a stable life, a loving and outrageously hot husband partner, a nice home always full of happiness and if he would fuck you like he's doing now for the rest of your life, well, you would consider yourself the luckiest woman on earth.

"stuff you 'till- 'till you become round and puffy- fuck! I'll give you another one, just another one..." and it's his third orgasm inside of you. having a man like him become so desperate for you makes your walls tighten around him again, losing count of how many times your pleasure reached the sky, hearing him grunt and try to contain his sounds to not disturb the tranquillity of the house and to not scare you away.

dilf Minho who can't get himself to pull out just yet, his cock hardening again just from the thought of you being a mommy while he's a daddy. his cock pushes his release inside you deeper and deeper adding pressure to your womb, overwhelming feeling manifesting through tears.

"shh kitten, it's okay, breathe..." his soft kisses being placed on your cheeks, hands momentarily moving from your sore legs to place them down and caress your breasts that, well, he never thought about it but he would very much like to suck when anching from being too full of milk.

"daddy's gonna give you some more, and you'll be good and keep it all inside." he starts to move again, and he restricts your hands in his when you start to writhe and wiggle away because it's stings too good.

"imagine how happy they'll be when you'll have breakfast with us in the morning," he kisses you again, and when he sees your fucked out expression he's the one who needs to calm down.

"they love you. will you let me teach them to call you mommy?"

dilf Minho who finishes fucking you when the light coming from outside isn't from the moon anymore, but the sun. dilf Minho that watches you sleep peacefully on his chest even if he has to get up to prepare his kids for school. dilf Minho who thought he would never feel such strong emotion for anyone anymore, but finds himself making up a discourse about how he wants you to go out on a date with him, even if he's old and maybe not the cool type you may like at your age, but that can love you properly and treat you like a queen.

dilf Minho who stuffs his cock inside you again as he bends you on the counter when no one beside you two is in the house anymore.

continues here

thank you for this ask, I didn't really feel like writing a one shot about it just now, maybe in the future, who knows. hope you appreciated ;)

[team-frightfur]

Hah! Found it.

Me looking at Yuri before he kills me.

sorry it kind of sucks i tried my best ^_^

[plz reblog]

[jj-one]

HOW JUNGKOOK WOULD TREAT HIS BIMBO GF 🍥

pairing: established relationship, bf!Jungkook x bimbo!fem!reader genre/tags: smut, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, breeding kink, piv, unprotected sex, an*l, oral (m receiving), t*tty f*cking, drooling, use of the word daddy (only once)

**old repost from my deleted blog (05/24/23)

- Having a drop dead gorgeous girlfriend was a given for Jungkook, he loved the fact that y’all were both smoking hot and turn heads everywhere you go

- The stark contrast between your appearances drove him insane

- His aesthetic was more dark and mystique, is also heavily tattooed while you always wore pink and pastels, having bare skin

- Is so enamored with the idea of you being the total opposite of him, he always feels like he’s corrupting your sweet innocence

- Kinda treats you like you’re his eye candy anywhere he goes, has you wrapped up on his arm like it’s a leash

- He’s been debating getting an actual leash for you since you constantly trip and fall whenever you’re out with him

- You were just so ditzy and clumsy… it was your character flaw yet Jungkook saw it as an endearing quality

- Also loved that you were an airhead, clingy, and always wanting his attention ;( makes the joy of him coming home to you all the more thrilling <33

- Always buying you pink and girly thingsss

- Whenever he sees something hello kitty or barbie related he instantly thinks of you and buys it

- CONSTANTLY wants to spoil you, omg this man would spend every dime he could on you just to make you happy

- He looooves taking you out shopping because that’s your favorite activity !!

- He splurged on you the other day, buying you any color of that Dior lip oil that you were obsessed with, it was worth it since he’d be the one taking it off your lips afterwards

- Jungkook enjoys watching you try on skimpy outfits for him, the shorter the skirt the better— don’t get him started on the way your hardened nipples peek out the fabric of your shirts…

- Likes to play dress up with you like you’re his personal doll

- He’ll put you in a pink lace slip dress one night and the next he’ll have you wear white see-through lingerie for him; that is only when you two are in private of course

- Frequently teaches you new things so you keep up to date with current news and other events, he knows you aren’t the brightest but you have a heart of gold and do your best to comprehend everything he tells you !

- When watching movies you often pause to ask questions about the film because you don’t get it

- Jungkook made you watch ‘Inception’ with him one time and it absolutely rotted your brain

- He enjoys explaining the movie to you in a babying way, dumbing it down for you to understand it as your mind is blown away by all the knowledge he drops on you

- Laughs at your inability to comprehend the plot and pats your head while teasing you

- “Awww, you poor little thing…can’t even understand the simple concept of a movie.”

- It really really really turns him on when you wear high heels, the higher the heels the higher the tent in his pants grew

- You wore the sexiest 6-inch stripper heels for him and he fucked you out completely while you had them on, he thinks he might have a heel fetish or something

- Absolutely adores your bright & bubbly personality !! Will praise you any time he hears you say something smart

- “Did you know that Sloths can hold their breath longer than Dolphins???” You would ask him randomly.

- “No I didn’t, but thanks for the fun fact babe. You sound so cute when you talk about things you’ve discovered.”

- “It was on the back of my Snapple cap, how cool is that?! See look!!”

- He will never not be impressed by your lack of awareness, you lived in your own little bubble and he wanted to shield you from all harm and scary things

- Is sooo completely obsessed with your body

- Your bouncy tits, your curvaceous hips, and your cute plump butt was the perfect sight to send the blood rushing to his cock

- Loves. To. Fuck. You. So. Dumb.

- Uses your hole like it’s a fleshlight and loves cumming inside you repeatedly

- Dumping all his cum into your little bimbo cunt was the only thing he needed in his life

- Often catches you drooling at him, when you do this he scoops it up with his finger and puts it back in your mouth

- His favorite part of sex with you is seeing your fucked out face

- The stare you give him while you deepthroat his cock was enough to make him combust

- “Look so pretty with my cock stuffed in your mouth, such a pretty little slut for me..”

- The way he would degrade you but praise you in the same breath confused you in many ways yet you enjoyed every minute of it

- Your makeup would be all smeared, mascara would be runny, the Dior lip gloss he bought you fully transferred to his cock now

- Can never choose between if he likes doggystyle or cowgirl more since both positions he gets to look at your assets with a nice view

- Lots of titty fucking, loves having your big round tits around his cock, making a mess all over your chest once you milk him clean

- He owns all your holes, he likes to use your tight little ass from time to time

- After lubing it up nice and gently, he would go to town on your ass just pounding into your fuck hole viciously

- “What a fucking whore you are, gonna keep fucking your tiny hole until I pump every last bit of my seed in you.”

- Turns him on so fucking much when you start babbling and unable to speak proper sentences

- You’d whimper and hiccup with frustration from the way his cock made you feel

- His love language will always be making you feel so low. So small compared to him that you don’t even feel worthy of his presence at times

- “Can’t stop drooling all over yourself? Already too dumb and fucked out to continue, hmm?? Oh never mind, you’re already dumb…just shut up and take daddy’s cock like the good little slut you are, you were made for taking cock anyway.”

[obsessivevoidkitten]

That's a Wrap!

Kinktober 2024 Day 2: Bondage

Mummified Lich Male Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: noncon, bondage, undead yandere, necromancy, graverobbing, mild blood drinking, biting, magic, soul binding, cock warming, overstimulation, controlling yandere, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 1k

(Honestly not my best work. A bit rushed. Smut isn't super detailed. But I hope you guys like it anyway.)

You didn't really think of yourself as a grave robber. Of course not! You were an explorer, a treasure hunter, a daring person who went on adventures into dangerous dungeons! Now, did that sometimes involve liberating certain valuables from the entombed? Sure.

In fact, that's just what you were doing. You had found a map in your travels that had led you to an ancient dungeon in which a long dead king was rumored to be entombed… along with all of his many treasures…

The entrance was concealed deep within a hidden cave. The opening had collapsed, but you had the right equipment for the job.

Though you lacked any ability to naturally cast spells, you did have several one-time use earth scrolls that would allow you to use their stored magic to clear the cave and make sure it was fully stable. Of course, you also had a scroll of teleportation so you could easily leave with the loot and a scroll of healing in case of injury.

You continued until you found a magically sealed door, though it seemed age had weakened it just enough for it to be broken by your enchanted pickaxe. You proceeded through the antechamber and into the main room. 

Strange. Absolutely no treasures filled the room, no artifacts mounted on the walls, no jars, urns, statues, or gold. It was just a plain, pristine room with some glyphs and runes.

But in the center, there were stairs leading to a stone sarcophagus. This was it, the resting place of King Relik. For something containing royalty, it was disappointingly plain. Maybe he was buried during a time of extreme poverty. You knew you were the first "liberator of treasures" though; you had been the one to break the sealed door. 

Well… a bit macabre, but you could still sell the mummy itself if nothing else. It alone would be a mighty fine pay day. Though you held out hope that some valuables remained in the sarcophagus.

You carefully shipped away at it with your pick. At about the halfway mark, it burst open on its own. 

King Relik rose from his 2300 year old prison with a yawn. He was mostly covered in strips of cloth. Upon spotting you, he willed his wrappings to extend and curl around you. 

The wrappings fell from his body, revealing him to have pale grey-white skin, ling black hair, dark rings around his eyes, and a muscular body.

The gauze evidently held spells to incapacitate whoever they bound but were no longer strong enough to hold such a powerful mage-king like Relik. 

You were only left uncovered from the neck up. The now naked former monarch bit your neck and drew blood, sucking only a few drinks from you. 

As he drank from you, he learned your language and your most recent actions and motives.

"Ha! A grave robber. I like you!"

You had no idea that he had been sealed there for trying to conquer the world as an undead lich. They couldn't kill him no matter how hard they tried, so they used the strongest magic possible to seal him away.

And you had broken the last bits of that waning magic. 

He kissed your neck where he had bitten you and cradled you carefully. He summoned up some clothes for himself. It was all he could do with his powers as weakened as they were.

Relik rummaged through your pack and found what he was looking for. The teleportation scroll linked to your nice private home.

How quaint. He never had to resort to a spell scroll before. 

Once at your place, he took the bindings off, laughed as you struggled, removed your clothing, and then re-wrapped your arms and legs.

"I don't really need these enchanted bindings to restrain you, but you look rather cute all tied up like this."

All you could do was make a distressed expression. He ruffled your hair to comfort you.

"Don't worry. It wouldn't be very kingly of me to just dispose of someone who freed me… especially when they have such a delicious expression of fear."

The lich bit his finger so that a drop of blood flowed from it, he put it in your mouth so that you would know who he was and what he intended. His blood power would work both ways, should he will it. 

Suddenly, his intent flooded into your mind. You now knew that from the moment he had tasted your blood, he intended to reward you for freeing him. He liked your personality and slightly questionable morals for wealth.

Your reward would be an immortal lifetime of getting dicked down by him. 

That night alone, he used a spell to make sure you were lubed and ready, then tied you up, and had you in nearly every possible position. His favorite was simply bouncing you on his dick with your hands, bound behind your back. 

Though the magic fabric wasn't on your mouth, its enchantment kept from making all but the softest moans and gasps. Good thing too, thought Relik. Otherwise, you may have damaged your voice.

Only when you literally passed out against his chest from the exhaustion and overstimulation from hours of sex did he finally remove the bandages. Instead, he held you close in his arms and used you to warm his cock as he fell asleep too.

Over the next few days, he would get enough of his strength back to make you magically addicted and dependent on him. This was to ensure you could never leave him.

He also used a spell to make it so you couldn't speak of him or otherwise communicate his existence to other people.

After a few months, he had enough power to tie your very soul to his for all eternity, causing you to become a lich as well. He sealed this soul pact with a magical collar he had you wear.

In every possible way, sexually, spiritually, and physically, Relik owned you. He may have been a mummy when you met him, but you were the one who was all wrapped up and bound. 

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭

Pairing Rockstar!Eddie x Reader | friends -> lovers

Summary Eddie comes back to Hawkins during a break on his national tour, and realizes he lost touch with someone he cares about deeply: you [angst and fluff]

Word Count: 2.7k

Above, a blue sky melts into orange, bearing a falling sun that makes Lover’s Lake shimmer. Tree branches rustle in the breeze. Until Eddie showed up at your door, whispers of his return to Hawkins had been just that. If you were still in the habit of calling each other regularly, you reckon you would’ve been the first to know. There’s no skepticism now, as the two of you sit on the tailgate of a cherry-red F-150. It’d been a gift from him to Wayne that he had on loan for the outing. This is a spot where campervans usually staked out for the view, but the universe must’ve known the evening belonged to you two. 

There were so many things you told yourself you were going to say when he got back from the road, but the words were hard to find. Elation and confliction had decided that your heart would be the grounds for their tug-of-war. Time had a habit of doing that, muddling feelings. Blurring old lines.  

“Does it feel weird?” you ask. They’re the first words you’ve spoken in a while. It takes Eddie a second to realize you’re talking to him. 

He straightens up in apology. “Does what feel weird?” The hole in his jeans gives sight to the bruise on his knee. You study it, imagining the many ways it could’ve formed. Knee-sliding on stage, most likely. 

“Being back in Hawkins,” you say, meeting his gaze. 

The immediate answer that poses itself on the tip of his tongue is no. Then it occurs to him that what you’re really asking is if it feels weird to be back with you. To that, there is no concrete answer. No such thing as black and white. There’s only technicolor when it comes to you, so vivid and complex that he wished it was as simple as a binary. 

“I don’t know if I’d use the word weird.” 

“Different?” you supply. 

He lifts a shoulder. “That’s a little more like it,” he says. “Coming home always is.” 

You hum, twisting the gold bracelet around your wrist. There’s a silver one around his own and his fingers are adorned with bulky steel rings. More tattoos have found a home beneath his skin as well. The longer you study everything new about him, the more a look that hauntingly resembles grief blooms on your face. As if something that once belonged to the two of you had been lost to the passing of time. When the same sense begins to swell within his own chest, he tries to snub it out the best way he knows how, beckoning whatever levity may be waiting in the wings.  

“But a lot of things stayed the same. Like Mike,” he starts. “I thought he would’ve called it quits by the time I got back, but he’s still kicking around at the auto shop. I was more surprised to see him than he was to see me.” 

After teaching Eddie the little his father failed to teach him about cars, Mike Summerdale gave him his first steady job the summer before his senior year. Working at Starcourt hadn’t held up, neither did Family Video or any other ‘boring’ employment. Mike’s Tire & Auto Shop was the only gig he sustained before the world had bigger plans. Eddie was the type who needed to move around, work with his hands, be challenged. Mike was one of the only people who’d been keen enough to discern that. 

Working at the shop not only gave him a sense of stability, but it also gave him you. The evening you came by for a last minute oil change on your parent’s Peugeot 504—ten minutes before closing—was the day he learned you were even funnier and more down to earth than what he’d gathered from within the stuffy halls of Hawkins High. 

A smile starts on your own lips. “He was probably ready to put his best man back to work,” you say. “Your hands are all pretty now.” 

Scoffing, Eddie turns his palms up as if he’s prepared to prove you wrong. There’s calluses on his fingertips from playing guitar, but not much else. His hands are nowhere near as rugged as they were when he was a mechanic. Back when you’d finally had enough of his indifference, you remember getting him a special cream and even rubbing it into his hands yourself when he puppy-dog-eyed his way into it. Some nights, long after you were supposed to have been back at your parents place, you’d be sitting in his living room with the TV glow illuminating your faces as the scent of eucalyptus lingered in the air between you. 

Eddie follows your hand as you reach over to run your fingers over his palm. “If I gave you a socket wrench right now, you probably wouldn’t even know how to use it.” You’re shamelessly teasing him now. It feels good. 

A genuine smile pulls on his lips, eyes brighter as he looks over at you. Even in his amusement, his next words are thoughtful. “Some things you don’t forget.” 

Sobering words, more like. Memories begin to roll in one by one until they avalanche and you can’t help but relieve yourself of the pressure by shoveling it over to him. 

“Do you remember the night we met?” you ask. “After that we were together all the time.” 

Back when time was all you had. Twenty-four hours wasn’t the same anymore. There were more responsibilities to fill it with, different relationships to entertain. For a while, the only thought ticking in your minds was when you’d get to see each other again. When the phone calls stopped, the care never went away. Neither did the curiosity, the stress of not knowing how the other was doing or where they were in the world. Those concerns continued to ring on and on, reverberating down the hallways of want that built themselves within your hearts. 

The rouge tear that streams down your cheek is the pioneer of more to come. Eddie swallows the lump in his throat when he sees it, hand twitching once in his lap. The next time, he doesn’t stop himself from reaching out to wipe your tears with his thumb. It’s a gesture meant to distract him from the fact that he’s the reason behind them. There’s no escaping the tidal wave of guilt that rushes in to drag him out to sea. You sniffle and shake your head to let him know that it’s okay, but his head is already under water. 

“I do remember,” it comes out quiet, thick. “The night we met—everything.” 

“Then what happened? What did I do wrong?” The wind is knocked out of him at that. “I know things changed so fast, but did everything before you left just get resigned to a spot on a timeline? Something for you to talk about to Rolling Stone?”  

Eddie tries to swallow around his guilt, but ends up choking on offense. 

“I never asked for any of this,” he asserts, hopping off the truck bed. “I may’ve begged God when I was a kid, but that’s ‘cause I didn’t know any better,” he says. “You don’t know what it’s been like. You don’t get to suggest that I stopped giving a shit.”

“Then what did you do, Eddie? Because that’s what it feels like.” You don’t mean to raise your voice, but there’s no way to reel it back in.

You can see the moment his stomach drops. It’s in the way his body grows tense, the faint color that rises to his cheeks, the light that wavers in his eyes. “You’ve been right here in Hawkins with all your friends and family three steps away. I’m the one who’s been in a new city every other night, cameras flashing wherever I go.” His voice remains level, but he talks with his hands like he always does. 

“I’ve been on autopilot for the past three months to make it back here with a semblance of sanity. So I’m sorry if I stopped picking up the phone to call. I was too busy trying to breathe with a goddamn elephant on my chest.” He paces away from you to run his hands through his hair. When he faces you again, he looks small. “This is all new to me. If you could just extend some grace.” 

Every word hangs heavy in the space between you. Which feels like miles. Eddie doesn’t huff or move or make any rash decision he’ll regret. He averts his gaze to refocus his attention on the lake. Its stillness feels like a mockery. There’s a dull thud as your feet meet the ground, followed by footsteps as you head into the woods. Despite every inch of you that wants to, you don’t look back. The feeling of his gaze is enough. 

He follows a few minutes after you’ve disappeared. The whole way, he wonders if his words were too harsh, if he’d gone about expressing himself the right way. The earthy crunch of his footsteps are soft as comes up behind you. You’re standing at The tree. The one everyone in Hawkins manages to come across in a lifetime, even if they decide not to leave their mark. The stories you heard about it growing up made it out to be a relic. 

Wound-Bearer was the name it had been given by a man from the class of ‘66, meant to immortalize the proof of love, romantic and platonic. Or at least bear a sign that it once existed. Looking at it now, more initials had been added since you and Eddie contributed to it your senior year. The carving stood out more than the rest, not because it was particularly noticeable or impressive, but because it was yours. Eddie stops a few paces away and spots it in seconds as he looks over your shoulder. 

Both of you hold your breath until you give in. 

“I didn’t mean to sound selfish. I’ve just been scared, Eddie.” You’re ashamed as you turn around to face him. “Scared that you didn’t want to talk anymore. That our friendship was fading away,” you say, scoffing a second later. “Now I sound like we’re in a movie.” 

A tenderness settles in his eyes that you don’t believe you deserve. “Our lives are a fucking movie,” he says, breathing out a chuckle. 

Things began to take off after he got scouted by the agent who’d flown out from California to visit family. You remember the dreams that had filled your head, each one of them somehow including you—you tagging along on the road, sitting front row at his shows, being right off camera during interviews. Reality proved itself to be nowhere near as sweet as your imagination. Later, when he signed to a label and was set for a national tour, the sacrifices of the limelight revealed themselves as pressing and real. 

Joining him in that new stage of his life meant leaving everything you’d ever known, bypassing university, being subject to thousands of eyes that just wanted to gawk. That’s why the day he left Hawkins was the day he left you behind. Even in his own mind, you not being his personal assistant was for the better. Him losing a sense of stability to chase his dreams didn’t mean you should be strapped to his side and subject to the same. 

At least you had a shot at creating a nice life for yourself. You were smart, talented, and someone worth building a life with. Music was all he had going. Leaving Hawkins was his only shot and it meant walking through the fire. 

A surprised sound escapes him when you crowd into his space to wrap your arms around him like he’s a soldier home from war. It’s the same type of hug Wayne had given him earlier that afternoon. It felt like love, like safety, like home. He melts into you, and the two of you stand like this until you remember that embraces aren’t meant to last forever. 

•••

Tonight, Eddie Munson takes it slow for the first time in his life. The speed limit signs on the side of the road dare him to go their limit. There’s hardly anybody on the roads to give him trouble for it either. It’s nice, the long way home always is. The radio plays low as the warm night air flows in through the widows. Eddie drives with his right hand, left arm hanging outside the truck. 

“Fuck, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he grouses as he brakes for a stop sign. There’s enough earnestness in his voice to make you startle as you track his gaze. 

On the opposite side of the street, the old location for Scoot’s Scoops sits idle with boarded windows and a dimmed sign. 

You heave a sigh. “They just relocated,” you assure, rubbing your chest to calm down. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Eddie’s eyes are apologetic as he looks over at you. “I damn near had one myself. Sorry.” He reaches over to squeeze your thigh before his brain catches up to his body. It’s a fleeting touch that warms your entire being and stuns you into a brief stillness as if he was electric. 

He shifts in his seat and clears throat. “Maybe we can go to the new location tomorrow. Get some ice cream.” 

You blink a few times, mind still fuzzy. “Yeah, that’d be fun.” 

The remainder of the ride is quiet. When he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex, you’re swift to gather your things into your lap, still buzzing. “Thanks for the ride back,” you say, biting on your lower lip as a loud silence stretches. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

He wants to walk you to your door, but he fears he’s already overstepped. “Yup. G’night.” 

Eddie curses under his breath as the door snaps shut behind you. After running a hand down his face, a tube lipstick catches his attention in the passenger seat. It takes him a few seconds to grab it and follow after you. By then, you’ve already made it inside and up the short flight of stairs. When the door of the complex closes behind him, it cuts off a cacophony chirping insects. 

Upon making it to the second floor, there’s something intimate about seeing you standing under the dim, humming lights fiddling with your keys. It isn’t until you get the door open that you regard him. 

His smile is sheepish, unlike him in every way. “You forgot this.” He reads the label as if he hadn’t committed it to memory during his short trip up the stairs, “Strawberry Crush, New Hydrating Formula.” A boyish smile buds on his face as he holds it out to you. 

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much.” Contrary to your words, there’s no inflection of surprise in your tone as you take it from him. Forgetting hadn’t been a mistake. His eyes flit inside to get a glimpse of your apartment. “Maybe I can give you a proper tour tomorrow after ice cream,” you offer. 

Eddie shoves his hands into his pockets. “Sure, I’m down.”

He waits until you’re inside to walk back to his truck. You rush to peep out your living room window to watch him climb into the truck. He doesn’t pull away like you expect him to. Instead, he stays parked. Headlights shining, attracting moths and other flying things. The urge to see him one last time overpowers your better judgment in a fight that lasts all of five seconds. 

In record time, you’re back outside. He rolls down his window as you approach. 

“Forget something else?” 

“I did, actually.”

You rest your forearms on the window sill and he instinctively leans towards you, warm eyes searching your face trying to get a read. In another life, he sees your next move coming. In this one, it seems too good to be true: a kiss as soft as they come to the sounds of the night.

-

Any and all interaction appreciated. I see you <3

[ceoofglytchell]

A Fall From Grace

Summary: When Gwayne Hightower traveled to King’s Landing to support his nephew the King in the war, he brought along his dear daughter, you. Soft-spoken, pious and well read; Dowager Queen Alicent took you under her wing immediately, but another pair of eyes never left your form either. From the moment of your arrival you had taken Aegon’s breath away and he was intent on getting closer to you even if it meant setting foot in the Sept again to join you for prayer.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Hightower!Cousin!Reader

Word count: 3982 words

Warnings: incest, infidelity (because Aegon is still married), obvious longing from both sides, he’s a little obsessed, fluff, making out, allusions to smut, Reader is described of having Hightower like features, religious guilt (kinda?), lots of praying, no mention of Y/N

Notes: I thank you all for reading my stuff 💛 As always, feedback and criticism is always appreciated.

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It had only been two days since you had been wandering through the endless, cold corridors of the Red Keep, and for exactly two days you had been all that King Aegon, second of his name, could think about. Every thought he had was about you, even though he was supposed to be in a meeting of the Small Council planning the attack on Rooks Rest that he had only recently learned about was happening.

Where were you? What were you doing? Who were you with? How were you feeling? Did you miss home? Were you betrothed?

Aegon turned the small white and green colored ball over and over in its holder on the council table, obviously not listening. Lord Tyland was talking about something, but his words didn't really reach his ears because he was once again thinking only of you. At this hour you would have to accompany his mother to the sept to pray to the gods or you went alone if you so wished. He himself was not a religious person, but he knew the customs and traditions of the Seven, as his mother had tried to teach him when he was a little boy, but she had failed miserably at that. As far as he knew, only his youngest brother Daeron actually believed in all that nonsense, but he had also grown up in Oldtown, where their mother and uncle came from so it was no surprise.

You too.

As far as he knew, your father- his uncle Gwayne Hightower- had fed you the religious customs and traditions of the Seven from a very early age, and you also had several Septas who raised you to be a perfect young lady, but you never took the vows that would make you one yourself. You were Gwayne's only daughter, so it was your duty to marry and give your future husband heirs to continue the bloodline, and, by the gods, Aegon swore that he would be the one.

You were not just beautiful, you were a real feast for the eyes. Your wavy auburn hair, your pale skin with your constantly rosy cheeks and your smile that always made his knees go weak were the most breathtaking things he had ever seen, which was why he could forgive you for your religious nonsense and still wanted to make you his in every imaginable way.

Your body was always covered in pretty gowns in the color of House Hightower, green, but all accents and jewelry you wore were gold, which made you a walking, living banner for his cause and no one would question where your loyalty laid. He was the king and he could have anything he wanted, and now he wanted you, his beloved cousin, whom he had only met two days ago.

It wasn't his fault that his heart had decided that way, it had just happened. If only he was still unmarried…

You were, but he wouldn't allow you to be sold to anyone like a broodmare or as a price to win another house over to his side. Even if your hand was given to Daeron, he would not approve, because the very thought of seeing you happy with someone else made him angry, but it also made him painfully aware of how much you had already done to him. Only two days... how would he feel once you had been here for a week, a month? He would probably go mad sooner or later if he couldn't have you.

He had to act, and quickly, because otherwise you would be gone and choose someone else instead of him.

Suddenly he slammed the table with the palm of his hand, which froze the other council members for a moment and the room was filled with silence for the first time in two hours.

"You bore me. You all bore me.”

Without waiting another second, Aegon stood up abruptly from the table, whereupon the other council members also stood up, since he was their king and this was yet another formal custom that he could not care less about, and he disappeared as quickly as he could from the small council. The meeting was over. For him, anyway, because as soon as the doors were closed, Larys Strong spoke again and the conversation continued without their most important member. A marriage alliance was also one of the topics that were discussed in his absence.

It was not long later that Aegon stood in front of the large entrance doors to the Sept, which he had all too fond memories of. Only two weeks ago, he had hidden under one of the altars, completely drunk, because he had not wanted the crown. He still did not want it, but it also gave him a new sense of purpose in life, and something worth fighting and living for. A lot had changed in the last two weeks, his view of his birthright, as well as a sudden deeper interest in you.

It was extremely embarrassing to admit that he hadn't even known you existed until Alicent had told him in passing. It was almost a shame how you always he had been hidden from him, albeit unintentionally.

Carefully, pulling the hood further over his face so that no one would see his silver hair and guess who he was, he entered the interior of the Sept and was immediately greeted with the smell of fire, incense and melting candle wax. As always, it was quite dark inside, the only light was the lit candles and the slight sunlight that fell through the windows above, so that it was not completely pitch black and one could still see the floor beneath one’s feet.

He let his gaze wander through the wide hall and over the individual statues of the Seven, to whom most people prayed, and there, in the distance, kneeling in front of the statue of the Mother, you were. The light from the many small candles and the light that fell through the window fell directly on your body which was wrapped in a dark green gown and in that moment Aegon decided that you must be an angel. There was no other explanation for this beautiful, divine being that he saw praying quietly a few meters in front of him.

The young king felt a lump forming in his throat and he slowly began to make his way towards you, even though he already knew that it would be difficult to keep his composure once you looked at him with your doe-like eyes.

He was not a religious man. He was not even a good man, which was why he felt guilty for corrupting someone as pure as you and dragging you into his own sinfulness, but it was necessary because part of him wanted to protect you, wanted to hold you in his arms, stroke your hair and share slow, deep kisses with you while shielding you from the horrors of war.

The gods would not forgive him, but perhaps you would.

While you were lost in prayer, you heard footsteps approaching from the side, but you did not let that distract you at first. After all, it could have been anyone; Septas, the Dowager Queen, or anyone from the common people, as was customary in Oldtown, where everyone prayed side by side, since every human - common or noble - was equal before the gods.

A small clearing of the throat from the side, however, made you open your eyes again and turn your head to the side, as you were curious as to who had come to you, but your eyes immediately widened in surprise when you looked into the face of your cousin Aegon, who had recently been crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms.

"Your Grace? To what do I own the honors?" you asked him in a gentle voice and you immediately started to stand up to curtsy to him, but he indicated to you with a quick gesture that this would not be necessary.

"Please, you may kneel. Forgive me, I did not know you were in the middle of a prayer."

A small smile played on your soft lips and you shook your head slightly, as if to tell him that he need not worry about this, which made his heart beat faster and he had to fight the urge to reach out and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear that had come loose.

"No, please, it is fine, cousin. I was almost finished," you answered him in return and you folded your delicate hands again as if you wanted to finish your prayer, whatever it was - at least in your thoughts and not out loud.

Aegon hesitated, but when he let his amethyst colored eyes wander over your form for a brief moment and he noticed the way your dress hugged your figure, he knew there was no turning back for him. "May I join you?"

Your eyes lit up and your soft, kind smile widened into a truly happy one, whereupon you moved slightly to the side so that he could kneel on the cushions next to you. You had never thought of your cousin as pious, but there were always signs and wonders.

"How... how does this work now?" Aegon asked you carefully and in an uncertain voice, while he folded his hands together just like you, but unlike you, his gaze was not on the imposing statue of the deity on the altar in front of them, but he was looking at you alone. He just couldn't take his eyes off you and your otherworldly beauty.

A small giggle escaped you and thanks to the flickering golden candlelight he could see your cheeks turning a light shade of red, which made a feeling of pride well up in him, now that he knew he had an effect on you.

"You close your eyes and pray. In other words, you can tell the Seven anything and they will listen to you. You can also ask them anything and they will have an answer for you and show you the way.”

He was a sinner and he knew it. He could do nothing but watch your pink lips move as you calmly explained to him how prayer worked. How would it feel to kiss you? Would you kiss him back if he did it now, here in the middle of this sacred place? Did you want him as much as he wanted you?

“What do you tell them?” he asked you with a hint of curiosity in his deep voice as he continued to examine you as if you were the altar he was supposed to worship.

“I ask them for peace and that my father takes a safe journey and returns unharmed,” you told him honestly, a slight glimmer of sadness spreading in your eyes that made him want to reach for your hand to comfort you. Of course, he had never seen a war himself, but he also knew that not everyone returned from battles - especially not when fire-breathing dragons were involved.

"Well, then do not let me stop you."

You both clasped your hands together and closed your eyes to address your words to the gods and perhaps even make a request. But while you continued exactly where you had left off when you were startled by his footsteps, Aegon didn't know where to start. The last time he had prayed was many years ago and his mother had put the words in his mouth back then.

Your light breathing and the crackling candles finally inspired him and the young king actually managed to address the Seven, even though he didn't even really believe they existed, but the words just bubbled out of him - even if it was all just in his head and his thoughts would probably not be heard by anyone. He wished he could tell you all of this directly...

Your eyes fluttered open once more about a minute later and you were surprised to see, as you looked to the man to your right, that he still seemed to be deep in prayer. Whether he was actually speaking to the gods or just thinking about his day, you took the time to look at him more closely. Because he was sitting so close to you, you could see all the little details on his admittedly very handsome face. From the way his long eyelashes gently touched his cheek, to the small moles on his pale skin, the slight curve of his nose, his full lips and the way his shoulder-length, slightly wavy hair framed his face.

He was beautiful...

You condemned yourself for thinking that, especially when kneeling in front of the statue of the Mother, but you couldn't help yourself. Aegon Targaryen was a beautiful man and no one should deny that fact. After all, the Targaryens were closer to gods than to men, although you were never sure if you should believe that old saying, but as you looked at him now, you thought there must be something to it, because why else would your heart suddenly beat faster whenever he was near and you could feel his intent gaze on you, or that a warmth spread through your body as if the Seven had finally heard your prayers. Maybe he was the one you were waiting for?

After what felt like an eternity, in which Aegon poured out his heart in his mind, although no one was listening, he blinked his amethyst eyes again and immediately froze when he looked at you and you were already looking right back at him with an expression on your face that he had never seen from you before.

You quickly turned your head away and looked down at your lap, while a deep flush took root on your soft cheeks. He had actually managed to make you blush - in the middle of the Sept! If he could do that, he wondered how much else you would let him do that would most likely tarnish your purity and innocence. He was very excited to find out.

"What did you pray for?" you asked him in a quiet tone and with the kind voice that he knew from you, but you still didn't look up at him again. You probably wanted to hide your blush from him, but it was very obvious.

Aegon could go two ways here. First, he could tell you that he too had prayed for a quick end to the war and that he would not lose any more loved ones, or second, he could tell you about his thoughts about you, which he couldn't bring himself to do. No, a lie had to serve as an answer again for today.

"For strength, guidance, and a safe return," he replied at last, which was partly true. Everyone saw him as weak, his own family, the realm, and most of all his traitorous half-sister, and he could not and would not allow that. His council did not listen to him, nor even ask for any suggestions he could make, but they made their own plans behind his back. Criston and Aemond had also betrayed his trust and plotted behind his back and without his consent decided to march to Rook's Rest instead of Harrenhal, which was the really important prize in this war that Daemon of all people now owned, even though the Lord of the old castle was his very own Master of Whisperers. Why put him as king and then ignore him still and treat him like a stupid child? He had not asked for any of this.

"A... a safe return? Do you mean Ser Criston? I heard he is an old friend of the family.”

The king hesitated. For a moment he didn't know how to answer you, knowing you knew what he meant but didn't want to believe it. He would fly into battle personally to support the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard who also served as his Hand. He would not be seen as weak, ever again.

“I will fly to Rooks Rest to support Criston and your father's army. Mayhaps I can guarantee that we do not lose too many men.”

Your expression in this very moment reminded him of a little doe - innocent, heartbreaking and full of worry. You quickly shook your head, causing a lock of your auburn hair, which reminded him of his mother's locks, to fall over the left side of your face. It seemed like you couldn't believe it, like you didn't want him to go and put himself in danger under any circumstances.

"But you are the king?" you questioned uncertainly, as if he was jesting, because you couldn't imagine that he was being serious. He was not a warrior. His younger brother, Aemond, should go, he was talented with the sword and his dragon was much bigger and far more experienced than Sunfyre.

"And that is exactly why I must go, my dear." Aegon leaned one shoulder against the cold stone of the altar so that he could look at you better while you would have this difficult conversation with each other.

"No, no, you cannot. You must not do that," you contradicted him, the expression on your pretty face becoming not just worried, but almost panicked. He almost had the illusion that you might actually care about him. That thought was just too good to be true...

"I declared this war and I will fight in it too."

Without being able to hold back any longer, you put one of your delicate hands on his arm and grabbed the soft, rich fabric of his green doublet, which, like your dress, was decorated with fine gold ornaments, because you didn't want to let him go. He was barely older than you and the thought of him personally flying to battle, much like your father - who did not have a dragon but still-, was one you couldn't bear. He was one of the few people you truly trusted and if, gods forbid, you were to lose your father, you couldn't also lose your cousin who had stolen your heart since day one.

"Aegon, please... do not do this."

Your hand on his arm, your soft voice and the pleading look in your eyes were simply too much for him. He couldn't hold back any longer. Without a warning, he leaned in and pressed his lips firmly against yours, making you gasp in shock into his mouth.

For a moment you didn't know what to do, but your body made the decision for you. Your eyes fluttered shut and you began to kiss him back gently and hesitantly, even though the rational part of you screamed at you that it was a sin, that he was your cousin, that you weren't betrothed to each other, that he was already married and that you were in the middle of the Sept, but you didn't even hear those voices anymore because you were already lost in the kiss.

Surrounded by the soft crackling of the candles and pleasant silence, Aegon lost himself completely in you. He kissed you as if you were the air he needed to breathe, as if you were everything that still bound him to this world and he couldn't stop, already addicted to your sweet taste.

The tip of his tongue grazed over the seam of your lips, begging for entry, and you, always obedient and docile, opened your mouth and let him in, whereupon a soft moan escaped you. That sweet little sound alone set his whole body on fire and he abruptly pushed your back against the altar with him caging you against the stone.

Your arms wandered around his neck, your thin fingers burying themselves in his silver mane, while his hands began to wander over your body and he explored your soft, feminine curves bit by bit, but he didn't really take much time, as he was loosing himself more and more in the proximity of you and the intimate kisses you shared.

His fingers started to rip open the laces of your bodice at your back, feeling the urge to see all of you, to feel your beautiful, milky skin under his palms while he let his lips wander over every inch of your perfect body, but before that could happen you broke the kiss, gasping for air.

"We...we can’t. Not here."

"Please, I need you. I need you so much, let me have you,” Aegon begged as he began to place some hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, causing your grip on his hair to tighten, which only served to increase the fire that burned inside him for you.

“I want you, Aegon. I want you more than anything, but not here, don’t do this to me. We could be seen.”

A long sigh escaped him and he buried his face in your cleavage, even though he knew you were right. It would be a scandal if he was seen taking your innocence on the altar of the Mother. His chambers, however, were more than available and wonderfully secluded for such depravity. But not now.

“You’re right, darling. You’re right,” he whispered, breathing heavily, as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist to keep you as close to him as possible, because he didn’t know if he would ever have the chance to hold you in his arms again.

“We could go to my chambers? I am sure you would find my bed extremely... comfortable, Your Grace."

Aegon chuckled at your sweet attempt at being sensual, but it worked. He could feel his body instinctively snuggling closer to yours and he noticed how wonderfully you fit him, but he slowly began to lean back so he could look into your glistening eyes once again.

"I would love to, very much, but I must go."

The hope and desire slowly faded from your eyes and a look of confusion spread across your face for a split second before realization dawned on you and you realized why he had come to the Sept that day specifically.

"You are flying to Rook Rest today..."

Before you could object, the king pressed his lips against yours again and cradled your face in his hands to reassure you that it was fine and that he had to do this.

"I will not be seen as weak. I will come back to you, love. I will come back and then I will love you as you deserve, yes?" he murmured and leaned his forehead carefully against yours, his silver hair a contrast to the auburn of your family, which was also his.

"Promise me. Here, in front of the eyes of the gods."

"I promise."

As gently as he could, as if you were made of porcelain, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and let his eyes wander over you to memorize every little detail before Aegon then tore himself away from you with a heavy heart to get the conqueror's armor put on as quickly as possible back in the castle, to then mount Sunfyre and go to war.

He wanted to stay with you, by the gods, he wanted that more than anything else, but he had to do this. He had to prove to everyone that he could be the king they had wanted to mold him into.

You, on the other hand, felt tears welling up in your eyes as you watched him leave, because something inside you screamed that this kiss would be the last truly wonderful memory you shared with him.

And, unfortunately, you were soon proven to have been right.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

THE BLUE OF THE SKY MUST HAVE BEEN MY IMAGINATION ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru can’t take your grief away. but on days when you feel as if it’s swallowing you whole, pulling you underwater, he’ll be there to reach a hand out.

word count; 10.9k 

contents; satoru gojo/reader, f!reader (gn prns are used, but gojo calls you sweet girl and princess), depictions of grief/allusions to death (reader mourns their dead best friend), hurt/comfort (heavy on both), fluffy towards the end, satoru is a good partner <3, stsg subtext if you squint, switching povs, reader is implied to be a non-sorcerer!!

a/n; i’ve always loved the idea of gojo being with a reader who also lost their best friend/other half, so this is just me playing around with that concept :3 losing a soulmate and finding a new one through the loss of that thread must feel really meaningful, right? + i’m also dedicating this piece to @neptuneblue my precious bday girl <33 i added an extra dose of devotion, flower symbolism and greek mytho refs just for you!! (pretty dividers by @/saradika-graphics <33)

a pang of sorrow.

as your consciousness begins to unfurl, cruelly torn apart from the realm of dreams, the sensation hits you like a hammer to a nail. your eyes flutter open, and your muddled mind adjusts to the soft light dyeing your bedroom a mellow gold — patches of sunlight splattering on the bed and warming up your skin, illuminating your features. gentle and soothing.

almost as if trying to coax you back to sleep; trying to protect you from something you don’t quite understand. just close your eyes, your body whispers, your mind shushes. don’t think about anything at all. 

but you don’t listen. 

part of you knows it’s a mistake. trying to identify the source of your sadness usually only makes your heart feel more tangled up — but you get the sense that this particular sorrow is one you should never, ever let go of. so you rest against the mattress, focus on the rise and fall of your chest, and simply feel it out. 

it’s a strange sensation. blooming like a flower, in the back of your brain, expanding at an alarming rate — seeping into your bloodstream, soaking the sheets beneath you with something dark and gritty, something that sends shivers down your spine. an acute sensation that something is wrong. 

that something has been wrong. for a very long time.

(and then it hits you.)

— ah.

an intake of breath. the open air has been warmed up by caring sunrays, bouncing off the glass of the windows. it tastes like dust and daydreams.

it’s today, isn’t it?

the flower in the back of your brain keeps unfurling, leaving you with a certain ache you can’t get rid of. a stain you can never, ever rinse away — and the sun’s comforting embrace does nothing to quell its weight.

what a shame, you think, gazing out at the blue of the sky. the weather is so lovely today…

something tickles your cheek. it snaps you out of your spiraling thoughts; and this time, you don’t need to feel it out to know what it is. you’re already well aware. your brain knows, your body, every string of your heartbeat.

a strand of white hair. ghosting over your cheek, causing you to stir. 

two big arms are looped around your midriff, heavy and slumbering, practically immovable. you’ve tried to peel them off more times than you can count, but they just won’t budge — if anything, that only makes him cling to you tighter. subconsciously or otherwise. 

(you suspect it’s the latter, on most days.)

as always, you’re pressed up against him, close as can be. completely enveloped by his scent and body warmth, strawberries and stardust, cocooned in the safety his touch brings you — like a big, weighted blanket. or maybe more like a clingy dog.

and, despite everything… it manages to cheer you up a little. doing what the delicate caress of sunlight couldn’t. just feeling him close is enough for the corners of your lips to curl up, a warmth trying to take root in your hollowed out chest; feeling his heart beat against your own, in steady motions.

satoru. your very own personal sun.

he’s admittedly cute like this, soft little breaths slipping from his parted lips, quiet snores that he’d deny if you ever brought them up — his jaw resting contentedly on the top of your head. it’s sweet. he’s sweet. but the feeling of his hair tickling your skin is a little insufferable.

insufferable, but still somehow so endearing. 

(you’ll probably always find him endearing, no matter what he does. maybe you should feel embarrassed.)

when you crane your neck, glancing up at the man in question — your breath hitches. halts, in the back of your throat. afraid to come too close. 

satoru is always pretty, but there’s something so serene about the way he looks in the morning. before he has a chance to wake up, cover up, make himself seem bigger than he is. right now, he looks so unguarded; so sleepy and pretty and comfortable. specks of sunlight scatter across that pretty face of his, like little freckles, caressing his skin with a heavenly glow. 

it really is such a shame. the sun is shining brightly, waving hello to the newly-awakened city, and your own personal sun is right by your side. snuggled up with you, and looking prettier than ever. 

but neither of those blessings are enough to change the inevitability of what day it is, today. you feel a little bad; but you know what you have to do. 

just to see the limitations, you squirm away — or try to. you don’t even move an inch. satoru’s got you trapped, caged in by his strong arms, like he’s making sure to protect you even in his dreams. a big, overprotective bear.

wanting not to rouse him from his peaceful slumber, you can’t bring yourself to make much of an effort, either. your hands travel down to the expanse of his arms, wrapped around your midriff, gentle and light as you try to tug them off. but he won’t relent so easily — the moment you succeed even slightly, those insistent arms fall back in position. only trapping you further. 

after your fifth attempt bears no fruit, satoru lets out a low groan; shifting closer, and hugging you just a little tighter. muttering under his breath.

so you resort to a different tactic.

when you finally get a proper look at him, craning your neck as far as you can, your eyes soften. his expression makes your heart melt; sleepy and snug, and just a tad annoyed. because of your numerous escape attempts, no doubt. 

he’s so beautiful it hurts. just a little, just to look at him, just to map out every contour of his angelic face. 

so you feel a little guilty. you really don’t want to wake him up, when he so rarely gets to sleep in like this — and he’s been working so hard, lately. doing his usual sorcerer thing, that he never lets you know too much about. the guilt seeps into your bones, growing deeper with every second spent etching his soft expression into your memory, knowing just how tired he must be.

it’s not like you really have a choice, though.

leaning closer, so close you can hear his heartbeat if you strain your ears enough, you put your lips against his skin. he smells like strawberries, from the shampoo he always steals from you, and he’s pleasantly warm. like a confectionary.

a moment passes. you drag it out as long as you can, indulging in the sweet fragrance.

then you begin trailing kisses up his jaw, ghosting over his skin. soft little butterflies, fluttering from his jaw to his cheekbone.. once you get close enough to see the way his eyelashes flutter, and he stirs ever so slightly, you lean in to whisper in his ear.

”satoru,” you murmur. ”just need to go to the bathroom. can you let go for a little bit, please?” 

you try your best to speak as quietly as you can, not wanting to disturb him too much — but you can tell he hears you, even in the state he’s in. all tuckered out, his muddled mind still registering the sound of your voice, how you move your lips to form sounds. a lullaby to his sleep-ridden brain.

bringing a hand up to his forehead, you brush his bangs away with palpable tenderness, leaving a kiss against his forehead. satoru stirs, again; letting out a sleepy noise somewhere between a groan, a sigh, and a whine. squeezing his eyes shut.

”honey,” you coo, hoping the term of endearment will get his attention. ”let go, please? i’ll be quick.”

satoru’s eyes blink open, slowly, like the shutter of a camera. you wish you could take a picture of him, right now — in all his angelic glory, painted over with warm colours and tangled up in freshly washed bedsheets. 

he takes a moment to adjust, unaccustomed to the bright morning light of your bedroom, face scrunching up — then his gaze falls on you.

and his heartbeat picks up.

you’re looking up at him so sweetly, fingers reaching out to cup his cheek, smooth skin against his own. the cerulean of his eyes flutter shut once more, as he nuzzles into your palm; moving one of his arms from your waist, just so he can place his palm over yours, where it rests against his skin. absentminded.

a smile crawls up to your lips. 

”… mm,” is all he manages, an incoherent little mumble. you make another attempt at getting away, only one of his arms caging you in now, but it still doesn’t work. the moment he feels you even try, he tugs you even closer. arm keeping you nice and safe in his embrace. 

satoru makes sure that his palm is still resting over yours when he leans forward, snuggles further into your side. nuzzling into your neck, pressing his lips against your collarbone, muffling a low whine.

”stay,” he murmurs, sleepy and upset, and you almost give in. he’s still too tired to really register what’s happening, only that you’re trying to leave him. 

it makes your chest ache.

a soft sigh leaves your lips. ah, this really is too cruel. how are you supposed to ever leave his embrace when he’s acting like this?

”satoru…” your free hand finds its way to his hair, carding through the pure white strands, and he practically purrs. ”just gotta go to the bathroom. i’ll be back, okay? i’ll hurry.”

another incoherent mumble. he doesn’t move, doesn’t even attempt to. still kissing your collarbone, content to have you run your fingers through his soft locks.

and you feel awful, you do — but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

as you feel him slowly, gradually fall back asleep under your caring touches… you opt to make your move. this time, you’re a little rougher — tugging his arm off and squirming away before he can think to stop you. it’s hard not to feel guilty, especially with the whine satoru lets out, arms blindly reaching out towards you — to no avail. you’re sure the loss of body warmth hits him just as hard as it does you.

an urgent voice inside your chest begs you to soothe him, to console him. seeing the little pout on his pretty lips, the furrow of his brow. 

so you lean over, carefully, cupping his cheek to leave a soft kiss against his forehead. a silent apology. ”i’ll be back soon, toru. go back to sleep, okay?” you hope he feels your love, in the action, in the words. even if he’s not really conscious enough to properly respond. 

just in case he doesn’t, you state your feelings more transparently. thumb caressing his cheekbone, as a whisper flows from out your lips: ”i love you.”

maybe it’s just your imagination, or a coincidence, but you swear he settles down a little after that. succumbing to the needs of his sleepy brain, still a little groggy and frustrated; but soothed enough to rest easy. so far, so good. caught up with thoughts of satoru, and how tiny he looks all alone in the big bed, your brain momentarily forgets about the sorrow. 

but the moment you step out of the bedroom, it’s there to greet you again. creeping up on you — a subtle, gentle kind of shock. almost kind. but hollow and cold, like the temperature of the room dropped, your almost-smile fading like a piece of paper blown away by the wind.

and suddenly, you remember what day it is. you remember what you’re supposed to be doing.

as you brew your morning cup of coffee, trying to distract yourself with the purring of the espresso machine in front of you, you find your thoughts drifting back to satoru. hoping he’ll manage to stay asleep, despite your interference — it’s his first day off in a while. he needs to rest. 

… and you don’t really know if you could deal with him, if he were to wake up and locate you right now. you can imagine what he’d say, what his expression would be like; and you can imagine the exact moment he’d realize that something is wrong, how easily he’d be able to squeeze the answers out of you. you’re weak to satoru. you’d tell him immediately, just to get him to stop frowning that subtle way he always does when he’s worried but doesn’t want you to know. 

which is exactly why this is your only option. sneaking away while he’s asleep, blissfully unaware, even if the guilt eats at your heart. you suppose it’s a welcome distraction. 

(today was going to feel awful, one way or another.)

everything feels a little like a struggle; putting your coat on, stepping into your shoes, making sure you have everything you need. and then, lastly, the note. satoru leaves them for you fairly often, on days he has to go to work early and doesn’t want to wake you, before late night missions and sudden workloads. when the reverse is true, you do the same. just something simple, a little act of love. 

i’ll be back around midnight. don’t wait up for me, okay? 

have a good day. :) 

don’t eat my portion of the kikufuku! i know you’re thinking about it.

i love you. <3

… usually, leaving a little note behind for him to find would make your heart feel light. but today, it’s not nearly as fun. you try your best to sound lighthearted; wholly aware of how ominous the contents still end up sounding.

good morning, satoru ♡  i’m sorry for waking you up before :( and for leaving without saying anything. i have an important errand to run, so i’ll be gone for a while. i’ll make sure i’m back before the sun sets, so just be patient, okay? i know you’re probably really mad, but don’t be too angry with me when i get back, please? i’ll buy you something sweet omw back!! ^^ that’s all, i think. i know how this sounds, but don’t worry. i’ll be back before you know it.  have a good day, alright? enjoy your day off!!  i love you ♡ :)

in all honesty, it’s a little mean. telling satoru not to worry about you is like telling the sun not to shine. he’s confident when he’s with you, thoroughly assured of his ability to protect you… but when you’re out of his sight, you think he gets a little anxious. even if he’s awfully good at hiding it.

still, there’s nothing else to do. you swallow the guilt, stick the note to the fridge, and step over the threshold. out into the real world, the cold world, the empty world. as the sun envelops you, and a spring breeze enters your lungs — that acute awareness strangling you only seems to grow deeper.

everything finally dawns on you, all at once. and it’s impossible to shake away that suffocating feeling —

the feeling that something is wrong.

(that something has been wrong. for a very, very long time.)

the cemetery is empty, this year.

you suspect the glaring sun has something to do with it. blinding you, casting a bright glow over the tombs of the dead, entirely out of place. no one wants to do their mourning in this kind of weather. it just feels wrong. 

that hasn’t stopped you, though. you wonder if it’s due to a love so strong it disregards the weather, or a blatant disregard towards the feelings of the dead. 

maybe both. probably both.

the solitude creeps up on you like a hungry ghost, but it’s a blessing in flimsy disguise; right now, you’re all alone. and today, that’s all you truly need. a feeling almost like stepping into another realm, one with no connection to things like reality or time. it’s just you, and the graves, and the ghosts. there’s no one here to see you cry, no one who can pretend like they understand. no one to witness the price you’ve paid for loving so fervently. 

slowly, you make your way across the cemetery. sparing a glance towards the city skyline, before fixing your eyes on one particular tomb. 

when you crouch down, the paper bag in your hand hits the ground with a soft crunch. all flowers are still in perfect condition; asters and forget-me-nots, haberleas and hyacinths. you cradle them tightly, pressed against your chest, feeding off your weakening heartbeat — your eyes moving, flitting over the grave, the name engraved into the stone. putting the bouquet down.

(you really hope she’ll like them.)

it’s surreal. to look at an object and still see a person, to touch the petals of a flower and remember the softness of human skin. you never quite got used to it. all you ever seem to do is lean into the strangeness of it all, the kick you get out of sullying something untainted. trying to remember something that should be left in the past. you can’t leave her alone.

”hi,” you whisper, so low you barely hear it. ”i’m back.”

with a sigh, you settle down on the ground; sitting cross-legged, getting comfortable. this’ll take a while.

the cherry trees are beautiful, this year. they always are; always in full bloom, almost mocking in their beauty. with their silky petals, fallen all across the ground, dyeing everything in shades of white and pink. as your eyes trail across the flowery landscape, basking in the sickening solitude of it all, that sense of otherworldliness deepens. you try not to look at the blinding sun, try not to think of the man it reminds you of. 

it’s just you, here. just you, the graves, and the cherry trees. just you, and her, and your sorrow.

for a moment, you delude yourself into thinking that it’s true — you’re in a different world, now. one that settles on the wrong axis and paints itself with the wrong colours. one that stopped spinning long ago.

(the tender stirring of your heartstrings never fades away. it sounds a little like a hymn.)

all you can think of is her. all you can feel is the grief. that hole in your heart, extending, extending, extending. it hasn’t stopped since she left. a black hole of a feeling. it’s been years since it opened, years of trying to patch it up, clawing your way to a state of normalcy. living with a piece of you carved out. 

losing your other half feels a little bit like dying in reverse. having to keep going with half your shadow stripped away, out of the tunnel, into the light. even if you’d much rather fall to the bottom, with your silhouette still intact.

(throughout the years, you’ve come to a single conclusion; orpheus had it so much worse than eurydice.)

despite everything, a smile curls its way onto your lips. something soft and fleeting, that blossoms within your irises, in between your ribs. she doesn’t answer you, as always, so you keep talking — anything to still feel connected to her. anything to fill the silence of the cemetery, the numbed out grief inside your chest. 

”let’s see. where should i start…” is muttered into the open air, followed by a moment of silence, as you think of what to say. ”i’m still with satoru, if you were wondering. everything is still… good. more than good. he’s a really, really good guy.”

a moment passes.

”i hope you’re doing okay. wherever you are. if you’re anywhere at all,” soft air leaves your lungs, a little slip of a breath, but it’s shallow, like your chest doesn’t really care if you miss an inhale or not. like just giving and never getting could keep you alive. ”i miss you. a lot. i wish i could see you…” 

a hum buzzes in your throat. you try not to think of her hair, the scent of her perfume. the flower in the back of your brain has grown bigger, you notice. unfurling at an agonizing pace, blossoming the way a wound heals. throat burning, heart aching, you swallow.

(the hole inside your heart feels jagged, like cracked glass seeping into your pancreas. a deep, internal ache.)

when you speak, your voice comes out small. nothing more than a whisper, a flurry of air. there’s an honesty to the words that makes it hard to breathe.

”… everything is so boring without you around.”

a shuddering breath leaves your wobbling lips, and you know it’s coming. you make a halfhearted attempt to keep your voice from breaking, but it doesn’t work. your eyes are already glassy, wetness spilling out, tears getting stuck in your lashes, dripping down your cheeks — you manage a meek chuckle, but it comes out sounding more like a broken whimper.

try as you might, her figure never leaves your mind. it’s all you can think of, ingrained into your retinas; a single silhouette, walking ahead of you. a sweet girl, maybe a little mean, but still so gentle. your very own moon, soothing in her confidence. every step she took was like a landmark for you to follow. 

if you strain yourself a little, she appears before you — a polaroid dug out from the depths of your memories. 

in almost microscopic detail, you can see her smile, the way the light reflected off her teeth. you can feel her hand, the way her fingers curled so perfectly around yours. you can see her, hear her, the colour of her eyes, the sound of her laughter. a moonlit girl, who left you all alone — walking ahead of you, always ahead, leaving you behind to catch up. bringing whispered secrets with her, soft bouts of laughter.

your one and only best friend.

(it’s not fair.)

something in you urges you to keep talking. it’s all you have it in you to do. and maybe it’s weird, maybe you’re crazy — to talk to someone who can’t hear you. less than a ghost.

but it’s nice. it’s comforting. it reminds you of the voicemails you would leave each other, on weekends you were both too busy to speak on the phone. her voice always came out a little fractured, from her shitty nuclear bomb of an iphone, but you strained your ears to hear every word she said. you always, always did.

(it was nice.)

so you continue. you tell her everything, and then some more. talking and talking, about you, about her, about satoru. by the time you’re done, the sun is getting ready to descend, painting the sky a bleeding orange. your voice has gone hoarse, eyes red and puffy from all the crying, but your chest feels a little lighter — the hole inside it a little more narrow, not as broken and split and jagged.

”so, well,” you clear your throat, finishing your one-sided conversation; smiling weakly. ”i guess what i’m trying to say is… i loved you this year, too.”

the smile on your face is tearstained, feeble, as you get back up on shaky legs, brushing petals and dust off the fabric of your pants. stretching your arms out.

”i’ll be back,” you promise, the same oath every single year. ”wait for me.”

one last look at her grave is all you allow yourself; soaking in the peace and quiet, the creamsicle sky framing it. parting with this sight always feels so strange. crossing the boundary, going back to a world where she’s dead and gone. discarding her so callously.

but you can’t keep satoru waiting, anymore. you promised him you’d get back before sunset.

when you begin your descent down the hill, you can’t help but look back — just one look, just in case she’s standing there. she never is, but you still spare a glance over your shoulder, every single time. you like to think of it as an act of love. 

it doesn’t feel as all-consuming, anymore, that exhausting numbness. the sorrow is still there, the grief is still there; but it’s a little less unendurable. and you feel that you can return to reality for another year, until you need to come back and cry some more.

for now, you can manage. 

(but you still have one big obstacle to deal with.)

it doesn’t take long to get back. 

as your fingers curl around the doorknob, you mentally prepare yourself. taking a shaky inhale. satoru definitely won’t be happy — you can already picture the frown he’ll have on his face, his crossed arms. the neverending flurry of huffs and scoffs. 

you’ll just have to bear with it. exhaustion crawls beneath your skin, and everything feels a little too heavy for you to bear without breaking. normally, you’d head straight to bed, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to coax the day into ending early. but you can’t pull something like that, today. not when satoru will be there to see it. you can only hope he’ll be understanding — even without knowing anything. 

(such an unfair thing to ask of a person.)

the door creaks open, and you step inside.

a particular scent engulfs you, as soon as you cross the threshold to your apartment. a blend between sunlight, and the fabric softener he likes, and freshly squeezed fruit juice. and, of course, that certain aroma you can only ever describe as home. 

it smells like satoru, too. then again, maybe that’s just the scent of home in disguise.

finally, the weight around your shoulders starts to crumble. it’s a little easier to breathe, like this, a weighted blanket of comfort around you. something sweet and soothing and smelling lightly of rosemary. peace — or as close to it as you can get, today.

a sigh pushes past your lips; heavy with fatigue. dripping with relief.

(you’re home.)

”well, well, well.”

— a moment passes.

the sudden noise makes you freeze up, eyes wide and alert, still in the process of kicking off your shoes. internally wincing, bracing yourself. here it comes. 

slowly, hesitantly, you raise your gaze from the floor — locking eyes with a certain man. 

satoru looks displeased, to say the very least. arms crossed, with a cute little frown playing on his lips. just as you imagined. you can’t see his eyes from behind his shades — but if you could, you’re sure they’d carry a sense of betrayal. 

”… hi, sato —”

”i can’t believe you.”

an amused breath slips from your lips. amused, but sheepish, awfully nervous. like you just came home to an angry wife, after promising to be back early from work. and satoru only huffs, staring you down like you just killed his dog.

”betrayed. deserted. by my own partner,” he scoffs, shaking his head in obvious disapproval. ”what, are you done with your errand now?”

”satoru,” you try, voice falling into a melodic lilt. smiling up at him, inching closer. to your surprise, he takes a step back.

(you must have really upset him.)

a sad smile. you exhale, wringing your hands together. ”… i’m sorry i left you.”

”you should be,” he pouts, voice wounded to a degree that must be at least a little bit exaggerated. ”and you said you were just going to the bathroom.”

you let out a small, guilty chuckle. he remembers that? ”i’m really sorry. i left you the note, though…”

”right. the note,” satoru scoffs, like the word itself is personally offensive. ”d’you know how awful i felt, seeing that first thing in the morning? no sign of you anywhere, and some silly note is supposed to make up for it?” 

oh, he’s being so unfair. looking so disgruntled, tapping the pads of his fingers on his elbow. you wish you could take him seriously, but he’s way too endearing. and he won’t let you get a word in.

”i was so worried. i thought someone had kidnapped you.” satoru doesn’t let up, even when an amused chuckle leaves your lips. ”you turned your phone off and everything! what were you even doing?”

”i know, i know. i’m sorry, really. i am!” you hang up your coat, brushing off a leftover cherry petal. ”it was a personal thing, like i said. but i dealt with everything now, so it’s fine.”

”that’s not an answer,” he mutters. ”you’re really not gonna tell me?”

a pang of guilt hits your heart. 

”… sorry,” you murmur, low and feeble. avoiding his gaze. ”some other time, okay?”

satoru only lets out another spiteful scoff, arms still crossed. you wonder if he’s holding himself back from hugging you, or if he really is so angry with you that he doesn’t want you near him.

”look, toru —” you try, again, molding your voice into something soft and sweet. ”i’m really sorry. i won’t do it again, okay? and i’ll make it up to you.” 

you hold up a paper bag, waving it slightly to get his attention. you can tell that it works. ”look. i got you your favorite pastries.”

satoru’s frown remains, despite the sweet treats. he must be angrier than you thought. ”really? you think some cookies will be enough to make things right?” 

so stubborn. you suppose it’s warranted, though. you know how satoru is — if you’re not by his side for an extended amount of time, he starts to mope. after a while, he starts feeling lonely. 

and then, finally, he starts to get anxious.

he’s told you, before, how much these days mean to him; days when the two of you can stay in and relax, and watch silly tv shows, and cook dinner, and fall asleep in each other’s arms. days when he can just be your toru, and no one else. your personal splotch of sunshine.

of course he’d be upset. 

(you really are cruel, keeping him in the dark like this.)

seeing him so grumpy makes you oddly happy, though. just his presence makes that suffocating feeling in your chest feel a little more bearable, easing the burden on your restless heart. he makes you feel vulnerable.

with a thud, the paper bag drops to the floor. you open up your arms, like a blooming flower, a sheepish little smile on your lips. ”i missed you?”

the words are tinted with honey, sweet and warm, but also kind of sad. you tilt your head to the right, slightly, a silent invitation into your arms. 

and for a second, something unreadable sparks in satoru’s eyes, hidden behind the black of his shades. you still notice it, though — almost as if his whole face pauses for a second. in clever contemplation. 

you wonder if he noticed it, then. your puffy eyes, the sagging of your shoulders; the fatigue seeping off you, sticking to your skin.

you wonder if that’s why he relents, finally, stepping closer to bring you in for a hug.

the moment your head meets his chest, you’re enveloped by his scent. strawberries and fresh laundry, and a hint of expensive cologne. home.

a sigh leaves your lips, deep and content. you clutch onto the fabric of his shirt, melting into the embrace — and satoru can’t really bring himself to be too angry, anymore.

”… well, i guess i could forgive you,” he muses, arms securely wrapped around your waist. you’re sure he’s trying to sound stern, but it’s not very convincing when he’s snuggling into you like this. ”but you’re gonna have to make it up to me. alright?”

”right, right,” you exhale, smiling. just thankful to be close to him, to feel that he’s there. ”thank you, oh benevolent satoru.”

a chuckle slips from his lips. you feel it; the low tremor running through his chest, rumbling, as he rests his jaw on your head. ”careful with the snark. if you want to be forgiven you gotta be nice to me, sweetheart.”

you let out a breath, somewhere in between an exasperated sigh and a fond giggle. he’s relieved to hear the sound. satoru prides himself on being observant — being able to read someone with a single glance, notice if something’s off almost instantly. and he’s especially proud of his observant nature when it comes to you. 

as clear as the blue of the sky, or the brightness of the sun, satoru can tell that something’s wrong. he noticed it the moment he read that note, the moment you stepped back into the house, the moment he saw your meek little face staring up at him — desperate for comfort. as if one wrong touch could have you falling apart, shattering, like a flimsy sheet of glass.

whatever you were doing, today… it couldn’t have been pleasant. 

he’s curious, of course, and still more than a little irked at your escape — but that can wait until later. satoru can be patient, when he wants to be. at the very least, he can be patient when it comes to you. 

(for now, he’ll focus on cheering you up.)

nuzzling further into his chest, you take a deep breath, basking in the familiar sensation creeping up on you. satoru makes a halfhearted attempt to stifle his coo. 

”aw, look at you,” he grins, swaying you softly side to side. ”so clingy. you really did miss me, huh?”

a huff leaves your lips. ”shut up,” you mumble, feeling a heat rush to your cheeks. 

”be nice, baby.”

…

and you relent. the least you could do is indulge him, even if you know he’ll abuse the opportunity fully. you part your lips, and speak.

”… of course i missed you.”

”there we go,” a smug grin blooms on his lips. he rubs your back, absentmindedly. gosh, he’s infuriating. 

(you love him so much you want to sneak into his chest and gobble up his heart.)

after a moment, he pulls away from you. just a little, just to get a good look at your face. drinking you in, with his blue-soaked gaze, as your eyelashes flutter. he reaches out, the pads of his fingers meeting your soft skin — cupping your cheek with his palm, big and warm, cradling you the way a believer would cup a mouthful of holy water. 

then he leans in to kiss you. giving you no time to prepare, drawing you in, drawn to your touch, inexplicably. helplessly. 

it’s a chaste kiss, light and heart-fluttering. his lips are soft, tasting lightly of cherry chapstick. when you exhale against them, you feel him smile, almost smirking. a blissful little breath that he drinks in, hands squeezing softly at your hips, bringing you just a little closer. rubbing his nose against yours. 

his tongue flits out to lick at your bottom lip, a teasing flick, and then he’s pulling back — still close enough to make you flustered. 

”missed you too,” he purrs, voice deep and raspy, rumbling through his chest. ”thought i was gonna go insane without you.”

with a flushed face, and something akin to a pout playing at your lips, you avoid his gaze. you’re sure that if you looked now, you’d see those pools of blue peeking out beneath the black glass. 

satoru leans in to kiss you, again. giving you no warning, as always; unable to resist the temptation. 

(you really are too cute for your own good.)

it’s a little intoxicating, the way he breathes you in. sweet and warm, like he’s trying to say i love you without using any words, with just his lips and lungs and tongue. he’s a little too good at it — someone so inexperienced has no business being so naturally good at kissing. it’s a little irritating.

but that’s satoru, for you. always surpassing your expectations; like there’s no limit to his love.

satoru finally decides to spare you, satisfied with the tiny squeak that bubbles up in your throat when he nibbles at the flesh of your lip. he’ll demand more kisses later — preferably when you’re seated in his lap, and he can properly turn you into a boneless puddle.

”alright,” he chirps, a melodic lilt to his voice, stepping back with a palm still on your hip. his thumb rubbing circles into the fabric. ”let’s see those pastries.”

”oh. right…” you’re quick to lean down, snatching the paper bag from where it lays on the floor. passing it to satoru, so he can look into it.

seemingly satisfied with the contents, he lets out a contemplative hum. ”okay, this is a start,” he nods, decisive. ”c’mon. let’s eat ’em by the couch.”

…

you narrow your eyes, suddenly suspicious. ”… hang on. have you had lunch yet?”

satoru gapes, as if in disbelief, barking out a soft, offended little scoff. ”really? you’re doubting me?”

”that’s not a yes.”

a pout forms on his lips. ”of course i have. who do you think i am?”

”oh yeah?” you give him a smile, a tiny raise of your brow. something in you knows that he’s lying. ”what’d you eat?”

”what is this, an interrogation?” he huffs. ”i’m a grown man. i can eat what i want!”

”not when i’m around,” you deadpan. then sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. ”satoru, you can’t eat a bunch of sweets for lunch. it’s not good for you.”

”so you can abandon me for hours, but i can’t have a little treat every once in a while? is that how it is?”

a roll of your eyes. you shift on your feet, letting out a low groan, and satoru has to reel in his growing smile. ”alright, drama queen. i get your point.” a moment passes, and you hum. ”… want me to make you something? or should i just order take out?”

satoru pouts, again, like a big huffy dog. ”babe, don’t you trust me? i’ve already had lunch. i got yakitori from the place downtown!”

”oh? you mean the yakitori place that’s closed on sundays?”

”huh. that’s weird,” he muses, smiling faintly. ”must’ve been some other place, then.” 

you give him an unamused look. he returns it with a vague upturn of his lips, completely unbothered.

a sigh.

”… i’ll order take out.”

”whatever you say, princess.”

you stifle a smile, and go digging for your phone, feeling your own stomach rumble a bit. in the midst of the banter, you almost forget what day it is. 

and satoru feels satisfied. you look a little more alive, now. a little more anchored to reality. as you call the takeout place of your choosing, he can even spot some earnest light in your eyes. he’s not exactly worried — but you did seem oddly stiff, just now, a little blurry. faded at the corners, like a dusty old polaroid.

and if there’s one thing satoru gojo can’t do, it’s leave you alone when he knows you need him.

satoru’s punishment for leaving him alone so long is swift and severe.

you’re seated in his lap, caged in by his long arms, and this time you know there’s no escaping them. even if you could, you wouldn’t dare to try. being caged in like this, warm and comfy in satoru’s embrace, isn’t really much of a punishment at all — even the kisses he has you press against his lips and jaw aren’t unwelcome, albeit a little embarrassing. he’s a merciful tyrant. 

but you can’t help but feel like you’re deceiving him. 

you still feel so lost, somehow, a murky sensation you can’t seem to shake off. and you know it’s because of your brain, because of the correlations it’s stitching and crocheting between today and her and you. 

it simply won’t let you be happy, today. 

you can’t help but feel a little greedy. ungrateful. even though you have your precious sun with you, even though you should feel warm, her absence hangs heavy on you. her continued absence, in your world, your life. a chill that rots your bones from the inside out. you know you’ll never get over it. you don’t ever want to get over it. it’s tough, though. 

you should be happy, snuggled into your boyfriend’s arms, but her sorrow clings to you. you should be mourning, but his arms feel so secure like this. no reaction feels right, no emotion warranted.

(you really are greedy, aren’t you?)

satoru chuckles, a sound both delighted and amused — snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts. as always.

you’re watching a movie he likes, some cheesy old romcom. you really, really don’t understand his taste. but his commentary is always entertaining. judging by his cute little noise, someone just said something funny — funny to his standards, anyhow.

it’s too tempting to resist. you crane your neck, glancing up at him, wanting to see his face. from this angle, you can spot the blue of his eyes — beautiful and bright, flickering with splotches of pure white. they flit down to meet your own, gleaming with amusement.

”do i have something on my face, baby?” satoru chuckles, leaning forward to get a better look at you, all tucked against his chest. he grins, smooth, handsome; tailor-made to make you flustered. ”you’re staring at me real hard, there.”

(what a tease. 

unfortunately for him, you saw this one coming.)

”nah,” you show off a grin of your own, bubbly and teasing. ”you’re just pretty.”

he blinks. a few seconds passes by.

then a smile breaks out across his face. his eyes crinkle softly at the edges, like little petals, snowy bangs gliding against his skin when he tilts his head.

”oh?” he leans closer, hands still keeping you in place, making sure your gaze stays locked onto his. ”so forward. am i really that irresistible?”

there’s something soft in your eyes, something tender in the way your fingers go to touch his skin. a ghost of a caress, paired with your flimsy smile. you look at him like he hung all the stars in the sky, breathing out an exhale. ”… i wouldn’t go that far.”

”aw, don’t be embarrassed,” he lets out a coo. ”come on — tell me i’m pretty again.”

”you liked that, huh?”

satoru flicks your forehead, no real strength behind it, so soft you barely feel it. there’s a certain reprimanding tilt to his voice, teasing as it is. ”be nice.”

he’s lucky you’re feeling too vulnerable to put up a fight. you turn around, to face him properly, squirming in his hold; reaching out to cup his handsome face.

”pretty boy,” you murmur, running your thumb along the expanse of his cheekbone. satoru grins, and your heart thumps loudly in your chest. you can spot earnest giddiness on his features — such a sucker for praise.

blindly, he searches for your other hand, bringing it to his lips. they’re warm, you notice, as he kisses across your knuckles, the tips of your fingers. soft as a feather, tickling your skin. like every peck is a whispered psalm, a silent worship. but it’s light, it always has been — the weight of his boundless adoration. it’s not the heavy kind of love that gods give, not the one you hear about in stories, that always ends in death. satoru’s love isn’t crushing, and it isn’t suffocating. it’s delicate and careful, soft. it reminds you of how sunshine licks at your skin in the morning.

nothing more or less than one human being’s wholehearted love for another; giggles buzzing against your skin, crinkled eyes and mouthfuls of honey. blissful summer days.

(it reminds you of her, but it’s also something entirely different. something you can only ever make sense of when you think of the sun. when every single corner of your home has been doused in sunshine.)

a moment passes. so, so intimate, unbroken by the grief inside your chest. balm to your fractured heart, smoothing across your jagged edges. satoru leans into your palm, into your touch, relishing in the affection you give him. like a bee to a flower, blooming, wilting.

a nagging need tugs at your heartstrings.

(you want to see him. up close.)

although a little unsure, you reach your hands out, slowly, delicately, like approaching a frightened fawn — eager to remove his shades. he makes no move to stop you, so you assume that it’s okay. his eyes flutter open, when you do, white lashes parting like a bird taking flight; crinkled at the corners, overflowing with warmth. like sunshine streaming in through the curtains of your childhood kitchen. 

your heartbeat stutters at the sight.

all you can do is stare. transfixed, losing yourself in their calming hue, drinking them in. you sigh; a soft, quiet little sound. ”you’re so pretty.”

…

satoru lets out a breath, tinged with laughter. his eyes are teasing, but warm even still. ”… am i, now?”

”mhm. the prettiest.”

he chokes back another chuckle. hoping you won’t notice the slight flush to his ears, the heat on the back of his neck. he’s grown skilled at keeping a poker face, even when you try to fluster him — but it’s harder when you’re not trying, when it comes to you so easily. when your words are honest.

just when he’s about to turn the tables on you, you duck your head under his jaw. nuzzling into the crook of his neck, inhaling his cologne, craving his warmth, knowing how much it grounds you. 

that, and his eyes are just a little too beautiful to stare into for too long. they always see right through you, deep into your soul, into every little nook and cranny of your mind. that undivided attention makes you feel a little meek, like you’re bare and raw before him. like there’s nothing you can hide.

(something in your hollowed-out chest begins to crumble.)

falling silent, you absently fiddle with the hem of satoru’s shirt, resting your forehead against his shoulder. he doesn’t say anything. the room would be silent were it not for that cheesy romcom, still buzzing in the background — you think the main couple just got divorced, again. or did get they married? you can’t really keep track of the plot. you can’t keep track of much at all, right now.

satoru makes you too happy.

so happy you forget what day it is, forget you’re supposed to be mourning. sometimes, you forget she’s even gone at all. as if she’s resting on some summer field, outside of your vision, alive and well. 

but she isn’t. you can’t forget that.

guilt. how long has it been part of your life? you don’t know the answer. you’re not sure you want to know. most of the time, it’s all you can feel. guilt, because you’re sitting here, happy, with the love of your life — the most wonderful person you know. guilt, because you haven’t told him what’s going on, because you don’t trust him enough — even though you’d like to think you just don’t want to burden him. you don’t trust anyone enough to let them glimpse into your decaying chest. you’re afraid of the rot. you’re afraid it’ll mold his hand at the slightest touch.

guilt, guilt, guilt — because you’re lucky enough to meet such wonderful people, over and over again, and never quite manage to deserve them.

(having lost its moon, where does a star find solace?)

a hand begins to stroke your head. the weight is a comfort, reassuring, a jolt of warmth trickling down your spine. for a moment, it’s all you can feel.

(— in the warmth of the sun.)

”sleepy?” he murmurs, low and soft. a little teasing, mostly inquisitive, a calm lull of his tongue.

are you? you didn’t really notice, until now. things are starting to feel a little hazy, aren’t they? you feel comfortable, too comfortable, your body aching for a moment of rest, a chance to shut off. sleep, sleep, sleep. don’t think about anything anymore.

satoru notices your sleepy little breaths, the way you gradually soften under his touch, melt into his arms. so he continues to run his hand over your head, petting you gently — knowing it’ll coax you into resting. he’d like you to stay up and binge shows with him all night, but you seem awfully tired. just this once, he’ll let you sleep — the plot was starting to get boring, anyhow. the sequel’s way better.

”you can rest, baby,” he coos, with a gentle intonation. his voice buzzes in your ear. ”i’ve got you.”

(he’s got you.)

the words make you feel so horribly, awfully safe. you can already feel yourself drifting away. his hand smooths down your hair, and a yawn slips from your lips, and you’re just so, so tired. how nice it would be, for the day to end. to be able to forget, for another year.

yeah. how nice. 

you wonder why you don’t take the opportunity.

maybe it has something to do with satoru. with the way he seems to bring you back to reality so effortlessly, soothes you without even really trying. maybe it’s the way he bares himself in front of you, blue eyes on full display, allowing you to see every single part of him. 

maybe, it makes you want to do the same.

”… satoru?”

your voice sounds meek. tiny, unguarded. the man in question only hums, feeling you slump against his shoulder. ”hm?”

”today…” you trail off, unsure how to proceed. you can only think of a certain girl, a certain moon. the melancholy is almost overbearing; it pushes you over the edge. ”i went to a cemetery.”

satoru doesn’t respond. he gives you space to continue, never once halting the motion of his big hand on your head, smoothing down your hair. you gulp, trying to force your dry throat to make sounds.

”… my best friend is buried there. she died today. a couple years back… so i —” a coldness crawls under your skin, words hollow as they leave your lips.

”… you know.”

”yeah. i figured.”

a blink. your eyelashes flutter, in surprise — you can’t see satoru’s face, with the way you’re pressed up against him, but you still look up.

what tipped him off, you wonder? 

you believe him. satoru has a way of seeing through you, one way or another, always more observant than you give him credit for. he’s tactful, in how he brings it up, and that slumbering maturity he tries to hide comes into view. there’s no judgement in his tone, no pity — only understanding.

”… oh,” is all you can mutter. dumbfounded.

”i’m sorry. about her.”

”don’t be,” you murmur, managing a soft shake of your head. ”i’m — i’m sorry i didn’t tell you. i just wanted to go there alone, and… deal with it? i guess.”

after a brief pause, you keep going. feeling so, so small. but satoru holds you so tenderly. a whisper slips past your lips, dripping with longing.

”… you’d have liked her.”

”what was she like?” comes his reply, instantaneous.

…

huh.

your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. your mind spins in circles, but nothing happens. 

(what was she like?)

”… i really loved her.”

satoru lets out a breath. vaguely amused, but he isn’t smiling. his words have a kindness to them; an understanding, more than anything. ”that’s all, huh?”

a slight intake of breath.

— then you bring yourself to think of her.

you think of her face, how her lips curled up into a smile when you tripped over air, the splotches of sunlight reflecting off her white teeth. you think of her laughter, how it always echoed in your head, how she took your hand in hers when you were too scared to walk ahead alone — taking the first step so you wouldn’t have to. a whole human being, multifaceted, enough traits and quirks to fill the whole night sky.

your moon. your eurydice. the only one who understood you.

you loved her a lot.

”… when i was with her, even sitting around and doing nothing made me happy.” nostalgia seeps into the whisper, like warm honey clogging up your throat, choking you. ”just her being there made every day feel like a good one.”

satoru doesn’t say anything. but he holds you, and he doesn’t let go. even when your voice begins to waver.

”i guess that’s… how i’d describe her.” a small breath. then a smile, even smaller. rueful, but it’s there, and it means everything. ”i’d do anything to have that yesterday back.”

satoru stays silent. 

you’ve spoken about her, before. he knows some things. not a lot. he knows she’s important to you; the person who shaped you into who you are, your very best friend. he tries to picture her, inside his mind.

you let out a tiny sigh, your lungs feeling empty of air. ”… i’m sure you two would have gotten along.”

”yeah,” he hums, palm smoothing down your back. stifling the thought that threatens to sneak into his mind — you wouldn’t have gotten along with him, but i would’ve wanted you to. ”i’m sure we would have.”

it’s a little too sweet to be true. but it makes you happy, just to imagine that kind of reality — the two of them, together. satoru would tease her, and she’d ignore him, hiding a smile behind her palm. she’d warm up to him eventually. they’d bicker over who knew you best, and demand your own verdict — 

you’d smile, not saying a thing.

your voice has gotten a little shaky. it’s scary, opening yourself up for him to see; it feels a little like being sewn open. but you force yourself to keep going. satoru rubs your back through it all, soothingly.

(he’s so, so proud of you.)

”i was thinking…” you trail off, gaze fixed on satoru’s shirt, fingers gripping the smooth fabric. ”maybe, some time in the future — i mean, if you want to — you could… come with me? maybe?” 

silence.

”you don’t have to say yes. but if you do want to —”

”i do.” 

satoru’s voice is absolute. there isn’t any room for doubt; he makes sure of that. ”i’d like to meet her.”

… oh.

it was that easy, huh? 

(you wonder what you could have possibly done to deserve him.)

”… okay,” you mumble, meekly, breath fanning over his skin. ”next year, then.”

satoru glances down at you. curled up against him, nearly sleeping, looking a lot less burdened than before — though there’s still a desperation in the way you lean into his touch, a silent terror, like you could drift away if he doesn’t keep you close. satoru wants to fix it. he wants to run his hands across your skin, stitch the scars life has left you with, even if his touch could never be as gentle as he’d like it to be. he wants to be tender.

but there’s no fixing grief. it lingers, always, no matter how much you try to scrub it away. even if you run a washcloth over your skin until it starts to bleed, the scent still remains. 

and there’s a sickening sense of comfort in the knowledge that it always will.

(there’s no getting rid of him, satoru knows. and deep down, he’s glad that it’s true.)

more than anything else — satoru is content. content in the knowledge that you trust him, that you can bring yourself to open up to him about something so personal. that you chose to tell him, even though he gave you a way out. something about it makes him feel almost overwhelmed with affection. the kind he can’t bear not to show you, the kind that makes him seek you out almost subconsciously; seeking out your touch, your laughter. the smile on your face.

and maybe, just maybe — it makes him want to be a little more open with you, too.

”yeah,” he murmurs, craning his neck to leave a kiss on the crown of your head. ”you can sleep, baby. we’ll talk more about it tomorrow, okay?”

”… i’m sorry for leaving you this morning,” you whisper, suddenly. a little meek. ”i felt really bad.”

satoru chuckles. raspy, an amused little breath. ”you’re forgiven, honey,” he coos. ”just don’t do it again, hm? might break my heart.”

with a yawn, you loop your arms around his neck, nuzzling further into his warmth. fighting the urge to close your eyes. drowsiness washes over you all at once, as if it was waiting for you to get the last of your worries off your chest. ”… i love you.”

”i love you too,” comes his reply, a smile tugging at his lips. ”my sweet girl.”

it’s hard to resist the temptation. almost impossible, with how warm satoru feels, your eyes helplessly fluttering close. you were supposed to stay up with him — you haven’t even finished eating. and you didn’t finish his awful romcom. 

but he runs his hands over your head, and down your back, and it’s simply too hard to withstand the temptation. so you close your eyes, just for a second —

and that’s all it takes.

satoru keeps petting you, softly, until he’s sure you’re asleep, soft little breaths falling from your parted lips, drool slipping down your chin. he’ll forgive you for staining his shirt, just this once. with you in his lap, sound asleep, he feels himself soften — hands running down your back, rubbing circles into your skin. cradling you closer and closer, ensuring that you’re comfortable. taking a few sneaky pictures, that he’ll tease you about tomorrow — 

(though in reality, he just wants to be able to look at them whenever he wants.)

even while eating, romcom flickering on and on, all he can think about is you. how you look so pretty sleeping against him, how you trust him enough to let him see you at your lowest. how you trust him to take care of you, run his fingers across the scars etched into your soul. even if it does no good, even if his touch is clumsy at best — that act of trust alone sets his heart aflutter.

he wonders what he could have possibly done to deserve this happiness.

”well, here we are.”

satoru holds a bouquet of flowers in his arms, putting it down on the grave, crouching down next to you.

a sigh leaves your lips. 

”… this still feels a little surreal,” you admit, sparing a glance at the man to your left. ”sure you’re not a little freaked out?”

”nah. don’t mind me, just do your thing.”

”that’s… easier said than done,” you murmur, arranging the flowers for the grave. asters and forget-me-nots, haberleas and hydrangeas.

a hum buzzes in his throat. ”well, what do you usually do when you’re here?”

”i… talk to her, i guess…?” you gnaw at your bottom lip, turning your face away. you feel a little awkward, admitting it out loud, but if satoru finds it weird he’s frighteningly good at hiding it.

all he does is take a step back, as if giving space for your words to fit in. respectful, accommodating. so smooth you barely notice it. ”then talk.”

”… i can’t do that with you here.”

”eh? why not?”

”because — i just can’t, okay?” you let out a huff, averting your gaze, shying away from him. ”whatever. i’m just gonna do it in my head. she’ll have to manage.”

satoru turns his head, looking down at the city skyline below you as you clasp your hands together. when he looks back, he sees you mouthing something, no sound coming out — and decides to leave you be.

the grave is well kept. he wonders how many visits you’ve managed to sneak past him, in the years that he’s known you. he wonders if it’s supposed to feel this foreign, being here, staring down at something he knows must mean the world to you. the grave of your very best friend. someone who holds a piece of your heart, a side of you he never got to see. 

he’ll have to make a good first impression.

satoru clasps his hands together, too. and he speaks, silently, with no words; lips pursed in a tight line. 

(hi, there. it’s nice to meet you.)

it’s not like he has no experience of talking to the dead, himself. he’s more than acquainted with one-sided conversations, lonely visions of boys with black hair, men with sad smiles. framed by the setting sun.

so it doesn’t feel too odd. 

satoru talks. about this, about that. he tries to keep it professional. this is important to you, so by nature, it’s important to him. the conversation comes to a close, and he looks at the grave with an unreadable expression — hands still clasped in silent prayer.

(i promise to take care of them.)

a sniffle. 

satoru glances over at you, just as you turn away — trying to hide from him. but he knows. he’ll always, always know when you need him most. 

two strong arms curl around your waist, stabilizing you, anchoring you to earth. ”i’ve got you,” he whispers, and you fall into his embrace. allowing him to pick up the pieces, to put you back together. ”i’ve got you.”

”i —” your voice breaks apart, crumbles into stardust, a shuddering breath that escapes from the back of your throat. there’s nothing to see through your tears. ”i miss her so much.”

satoru cradles you close to his chest, tucking you under his chin. ”i know,” he soothes. your little sobs leave his heart with a bitter feeling, and he wishes he could make them disappear; but he knows you need this. 

when he holds you, something brushes against the fabric of your clothing. the soft thrumming of his heartbeat. something alive, deep within his chest, something for you to ground yourself with. and you know it was intentional, on his part — the decision to press your hearts together, a promise he doesn’t have to find the words for, because you know.

(stay alive for me. i’ll stay alive for you.

when you can’t breathe properly, i’ll be here to do it for you.)

your tears stain his brand-new coat, but he doesn’t care. all he cares about is you, the fact that you’re crying, how to properly comfort you. it’s new to him, all of it, everything about you is just so new and he’s so afraid of messing it all up again —

but he holds you close. murmuring, right by your ear, endless sweet nothings. he waits for you to get it all out of your system, and he doesn’t let you go.

when you finally collect yourself, thoroughly tired out, eyes red and puffy — satoru smiles. it’s brighter than the sun, positively life-envoking. it gives you something to hold on to. he parts his lips.

”thank you for bringing me here.”

a shake of your head. soft, as he thumbs away your tears, one by one. ”thank you for coming with me,” you smile, small as it is, holding onto his hands. feeling the warmth of his skin, the smoothness of his palm.

after saying your farewells, and promising to come back next year, the two of you begin your trek down the mountain trail. hand in hand. it’s mostly silent, but not at all in a bad way. satoru knows when to be serious, and when not to be. today, he knows you’re especially fragile — he wouldn’t dare overstep.

(especially when he knows your pain so well.)

”hey,” you break the silence. ”thank you, really. for… well, everything.”

satoru brushes you off, with a light squeeze of your hand. ”don’t mention it. i’m your boyfriend, aren’t i?”

”it’s not about that,” you chuckle, an embarrassed smile on your lips. ”just… thank you for existing, i guess. i love you a lot.” 

…

satoru hums.

if he were any other person, maybe he’d respond with something just as sincere — something to let you know exactly how much you mean to him, how you make his world brighter just by being in it. how you mend scars he didn’t even know he had, as effortlessly as brushing a strand of hair away from your face. how you remind him of a certain boy, but also something entirely different; a love so light it makes him feel human.

but he’s satoru gojo — and so he has to do things in a more roundabout way.

”hey,” he starts, with a soft click of his tongue. ”next christmas. are you free?”

you blink up at him, with a tilt of your head. ”… of course. we always do something on christmas, right?”

”no, i don’t mean that.”

another tilt of your head. satoru hums, low and contemplative, humming quietly.

”eh,” he flicks his hand, waving you off. ”you’ll see.”

”… okay?”

silently, you study his expression, hoping to find some sort of hint that’ll give away the meaning of his words. you can’t find anything except a carefree smile, his eyes still obscured by his shades — hidden from you and the rest of the ghosts.

you suppose it doesn’t really matter. satoru seems happy; and, really, that’s all you could ask for. 

so you only tug him closer, greedy for his warmth, basking in the feeling of it enveloping you. protecting you from the chilly air. 

satoru closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath.

(a boy with black hair smiles behind his eyelids.)

[ameliathornromance]

“My darling lady,” the familiar rumble sent the stack of coins you had been very, very carefully stacking tumbling down.

You sighed, watching all your efforts slide down and away to become one with the ocean of coins surrounding you.

Standing from the ledge you sat on, you crossed your arms as your Dragon Boyfriend rounded the corner of the vaults and beamed at you. “I’ve brought you something.”

“Again?” You sighed, exasperated.

It’s not that you hated that your Dragon brought you things. It was wonderful and you appreciated every gift he got you, but the lengths he went to sometimes alarmed you.

One time, he came back with a jaw full of gems and jewels worthy only of Royalty and nobles. He’d brought them back just for you to look at, like a cat bringing in a mouse. While they were amazing and you appreciated them dearly… it wasn’t worth gaining your approval.

Although the gesture was nice, he also returned with injuries of his conquest. You could see it in the way he moved, gingerly setting himself down on the bed of gold, wincing slightly as he had adjusted himself to become more comfortable.

His whole under belly had been stained with blood, his wings had little cuts and bruises on them, even an arrow stuck out from under his jaw.

It worried you every time he flew out of the vault. You weren’t worth the trouble for all of these amazing things. All you needed was his love and company and yet he still insisted on bringing you all the riches in the world… as if he didn’t have enough of it already.

This time, clutched between his jaws, he held a small sack… that seemed to be wriggling.

“What’s with that face?” He asked you, gently placing the sack down with the greatest care. “You don’t want to see them?”

“’Them’?” You frowned. The way your Dragon said it made it sound like there was something living he’d brought you.

The Dragon gently nudged the sack towards you using his snout.

Wordlessly, you rushed over to the sack and undid it’s top. The cloth splayed out and revealed- “Kittens!”

All disapproval vanished from you the moment you laid eyes on the tiny balls of fluff that mewed and meowed at you. The three small cats clambered over the cloth and onto your lap.

Each one was a different colour, ginger, black and white. “How did you get these poor things? Don’t tell me you flew with them! They must’ve been terrified!” You pulled them up to your chest, desperately trying to hold onto the three of them.

A proud puff escaped the Dragons nostrils at your approval. He bent his head down towards you. “They were given to me by a Witch whose cat had just had them. She said she didn’t have the space to take care of them and thought you might like them.”

“And no one saw you, did they?” You gave him a warning look as the ginger kitten decided to climb around your neck, tiny claws digging into your skin.

“No, of course not darling.” He leaned down to you, allowing you to place your forehead against his snout. “the Witch lived far out from any kind of village, as Witches tend to do.”

After a moment, you broke apart from your Dragon boyfriend and looked down at the kittens in your arms. The black and white one squirmed in your grip, desperate for their freedom, while the ginger one had decided to make that his sleeping spot and now dozed lazily.

What had you done to deserve this? To receive all of these beautiful things? What made you so worthy? There were probably hundreds of more people in the world who needed this more than you did.

“… You really don’t have to keep bringing me these things, you know.” You said after a moment.

“But I want to,” your Dragon rested on his stomach, head laid down on top of the sea of gold as he watched you try and keep a hold of your gifts. “You are one of my greatest treasures and a treasure deserves treasure of it’s own.”

“Now you’re objectifying me.” You teased, the black kitten wriggling free of your grip, rushing over to a red ruby that sat on the edge of your seat and sniffed it with intrigue.

Your Dragon gave a huff, “that’s not what I meant.” He was silent for a moment as you finally let go of the white kitten who went to go and join her brother sniffing the gemstone.

“Do you not believe that you are a treasure?” He asked.

“Well it’s not like I’ve done anything worthy of being considered a treasure.” You said, bitterly. “Sacrifices to dragons aren’t even considered special if they’re being thrown away by their people.”

Silence fell over the pair of you again. The two kittens had now realised that they could see their own reflection in the gem – but not register that it was themselves reflected back – and had now become crablike as their fur puffed and they swiped at the gem.

“Do you think,” your Dragon growled, “that these animals are any less prized because they were brought here just like you were?”

You whipped your head around to face him. “Sorry?”

“I took them because a witch wanted to get rid of them and I brought them to you, who fell in love with them at first sight.” His amber eyes pierced through you, like he was desperate to try and get you to understand. “Have they done anything worthy to deserve your love?”

“Well, no, not necessarily-”

“So why do you believe that you are any less deserving of all these things?” The Dragon questioned. “Yes, even though you were brought to my vaults as a sacrifice, someone who wasn’t considered to be that special other than to be a meal… but have you done anything worthy of this other than being the object of my affections? Just like these kittens here?” He pointed a claw at the – in comparison – miniscule creatures.

You opened your mouth to protest, to find some kind of objection in his logic. But Dragons are wise old creatures, there was no faulting them when they had a point.

Face burning, you looked away from him earning a chuckle from the Dragon chuckled. “Nobody in this world should feel as though they are undeserving of everything. People may have told you that you aren’t, that you are nothing more than a means to appease me, but that isn’t true.” He rose his head and placed his jaw on your lap, angled so he looked up at you. “You deserve all this and more. I intend to give it all to you.”

You pursed your lips, “does this also mean that you’ll also be more careful when you fly out?”

“Of course, I always am. I want to make sure I come home to you.” The Dragon gave a dismissive snort, “darling, humans know better than to try and actually kill me. All those injuries before were just a result of a… misunderstanding.”

At that, you raised an eyebrow and returned your gaze to him.

Your Dragon boyfriend caved, “okay, perhaps not a misunderstanding, but it isn’t my fault that they wouldn’t give me all their finest clothes.”

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[poge-life]

heyyy. can u do a drew starkey imagine where both him and the reader are members of the obx cast and they are at the pougelandia event and they are in a secret relationship but they are constantly doing cute stuff throughout the event but the reader gets a bit tipsy a bit tipsy and outs their secret by accidentally kissing him on stage and the whole crowd reacts and screams. also sorry if this really long.

Ugh, I absolutely loved this one!

This was probably the best event you had ever been to. Jonas had decided to do a big ‘Poguelandia’ event to kick off season 3 and there were hundreds of people here. You absolutely loved how much support the show got and how happy this event made people. Maddy and you had pregamed before you left, as always.

You guys had been dating for a year and it was the best year of your life. You guys had immediately kicked it off when you met and then one thing led to another and you started dating. You both decided to keep it a secret from the public, just knowing how cruel the media could be and would try and twist you guys apart. Obviously, your friends knew; considering it would be hard to hide it from the people you were always with.

You guys had shown up separately; you arriving with the girls and Drew arriving with the guys. And boy, were you having a hard time keeping your hands to yourself. His hair had grown out again and he opted out of styling it, leaving it messy. He was wearing his green jacket with a white Tee underneath, pairing it with black jeans and his black converse. Going for a more casual look, you had a black cropped button up tucked into a black skirt with white flowers on it and slit up the side. You paired it with platform docs and gold jewelry.

Everyone had been split into different groups for all the stuff going on; you were with Carlacia and Maddy while Drew was with Austin. Carlacia had mistakenly left you and Maddy unsupervised at the bar and to no one’s surprise, you both got tipsy. It was no ones fault but her own. She had been told when she joined the cast to never let you and Maddy be alone at any kind of bar or else you’ll drink them out under the table.

Once the performance’s started, you guys all made your way up to the platform, to get away from the crowd and have some time with your friends. You stood in front of Drew with Chase on one side you and JD on the other. You all were just having a good time with each other and you couldn’t have thought of a better group of people to be friends with.

You leaned back against Drew, looking up at him as he looked down at you. He chuckled at your appearance; cheeks all red and rosy but he couldn’t tell if it was from being in the sun all day. Or, it might be the fact that you’re wearing all black in 70 degree weather.

“Having fun?” He asked, letting out a laugh as you had a dopey grin on your face as you nodded, “The best fun. I haven’t been this relaxed in a long time.”

“Good,” He smiled, placing a hand on your waist, thumb brushing the skin exposed between your skirt and shirt. Goosebumps showed up at the feeling of his cold ring against your skin that had been warm all day but it was comforting and very much needed. It probably wasn’t the best idea to be drinking in the heat but you didn’t care. This day was about you and your friends and you were going to enjoy it.

“What?” Drew asked, once he realized you were still staring at him. You shrugged, turning around to lean on the bar, “Can’t I just appreciate how good looking my boyfriend is?”

“Uck. You guys are gross.” Chase mumbled, brushing past you two as JD followed after him.

A/N

Please feel free to let me know if you guys want me to continue this fic!!