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yorshie · 1 year

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Hello, fellow raccoon here 🦝 If it’s not too much trouble, could you write about sharing a bed for the first time with the Bay!verse turtles?

Ah! Another raccoon! Thank you for the request, I had a lot of fun writing this one! I went with head canon style.

Bayverse x reader, SFW other than bedshare, set in 2023 so turtles are 24-25

Tags: @jackalope-in-a-storm @tmnt-tychou

MICHELANGELO

This sweet turtle got his nest all ready when he heard you were finally spending the night. Brought in your favorite snacks, hunted down all his extra pillows from around the Lair, and restocked his mini fridge in case you got thirsty.

So when the time finally came and you go drop your bag off in his room, there is not a free spot to be found. His bed is a mountain of pillows and blankets, the small coffee table shoved in front of his tv has everything from pizza, microwavable food, and what looks like three different flavors of cookies piled on top of it.

Not gonna lie, its a bit intimidating. You might even have faltered, if sunshine boi wasn't right behind you with your toiletry bags, happy go lucky energy rubbing off until it felt like the spotlight wasn't directly on you.

the rest of the night is spent in typical Mikey fashion, a.k.a. a game and movie marathon. His brothers occasionally wander past his open door to say hello and to see what the two of you are up to. They might have a bet running on how much Mikey smothers you and how long you'll allow it. Even Splinter is in on it, thought the old rat refrains from making an appearance so his youngest doesn't feel like he's doing something wrong. He wants to marry his sons off eventually, after all.

When you eventually get tired and it's time to delve into the towering abyss of pillows that have taken over his bed, Mikey's territorial side makes an appearance. The door gets shut and locked to avoid anyone that might think it's a good idea to pull a prank (none of his brothers would but Mikey is paranoid because he is the prankster), and he wastes no time diving in after you for some cuddles.

oh. ok, maybe there's too many pillows, because now he can't find you! He's lost his significant other! Cue a mini chase where most of his bounty ends up in the floor in his search. You are not getting out of cuddles. No amount of wiggling or hiding will save you.

the actual cuddling is quite nice. Mikey's warm and his bicep makes for an excellent pillow. He likes to lay face to face, with your head tucked under his chin, limbs entangled and churring up a storm that you knew would have his brothers wincing in second hand embarrassment if they ever heard all the turtley noises he made when it was just the two of you.

He definitely snores, though. And farts in his sleep. Fact of life, don't get mad, because we all do it sometimes, most of us just aren't a mutated turtle man with a noxious gut fueled by pizza and sour patch kids. Dutch oven him with his own farts as payback.

in the morning you'll definitely wake up first, though as soon as you start to move Mikey will be alert. Call it sixth sense, but all the turtles are hyper aware of their own personal spaces and who's in them. I hope you weren't planning on getting an early start that morning, because now that Mikey's awake he's ready to continue the movie that you getting sleepy paused the night before. While getting more cuddles and eating breakfast in bed, of course.

LEONARDO

he internally started creating lists as soon as you accepted his sleepover proposal. Panics a little and moved the date once to make sure his sheets are washed the day before. Everything in his space has to be perfectly so. If someone interupts his cleaning and prepping, they better expect to have their head bitten off. Will have a literal panic attack if you arrived early.

You, of course, notice nothing out of place when he presents his room for your inspection. Yes, you read that right. This turtle will practically sweat as he waits for your verdict on whether the nest is good enough. No, he doesn't realize what he's doing. If you pick up on it don't tell him or else he might start panicking again.

The two of you will actually not spend too much time besides sleeping in his room, most of your time will be hanging out in the main living area. This serves two purposes: as the eldest Leo wants you to get along with all his brothers, and two, the thought of his bothers coming by his room to say hi to you absolutely drives is reptile brain crazy. So you'll eat and hangout with everyone else, and try not to laugh at the subtle teasing you know your turtle is going through with the whispered jokes and laughter that seem to stop every time you turn around.

When it gets late enough and everyone starts peeling off to do their own thing, you'll have to let Leo know you are ready to go lay down. Hilarious if you think He's going to suggest it's time to head to bed to you, he's trying his hardest not to think of the words "you" and "nest - BED! he meant bed!" in the same sentence.

when you finish your nighttime routine and make your way back to Leo's room, don't be surprised to find him on a makeshift pallet on the floor. There is no way you couldn't have seen this coming, but don't worry, there's an easy fix. Simply get in his bed, close to the wall, and start shivering. Loudly. Ham it up. In no time flat you'll have a turtle sneaking up next to you to keep you warm, though at first he will be hesitant. Cuddling you in the privacy of his own room with the expectation of sleep is very different from just chilling with you.

despite Leo trying to be a gentleman during the beginning, leaving you a bit of space and trying his hardest not to crowd you, by an hour in he will be wrapped around you. As he slowly gets tipped closer and closer to the edge of sleep, the more loose he will become. And once he gives in and gets used to the cuddles, he will never want to stop.

He clicks and chirps in his sleep sometimes. You woke up thinking there was a baby bird or something in the room, only to discover the high pitched noises were coming from him, before he transitions into deeper churrs from his chest right in front of your eyes. If you keep very still and quiet he might not wake up, but he will be traumatized if he does and discovers he makes these noises

There is very little chance of you waking in the morning before Leo. This turtle gets up early, but maybe just for today he can slip back next to you, after morning training, just to feel close to you for a bit longer. When you wake up you could just spend the morning talking, he won't mind being lazy as long as it's with you

You'll most likely be the one making breakfast if the other brothers aren't up yet, as Leo is banned from making anything other than tea or using the strict guidelines Mikey placed next to the microwave. But, he is an excellent sous chef, and after you're both fed he will be quick to suggest an activity so the two of you can hang out longer. Just know he's already weighing his chances of getting you to spend the next night as well.

DONATELLO

Dee had about 50 reminders set in the days leading up to your first sleepover, and a mental list he was practically grappling with in between projects. Anytime he'd focus on what was coming up too much, the butterflies would start going haywire in his stomach and he was likely to drop whatever it is he's holding at the time

Needless to say, he was in a bit of a panic by the time you showed up. Technically speaking, logically speaking, he knew his bed and room where both clean. And he knew you liked spending time with him, so why the anxiety? Why the nerves? He's so nervous, he doesn't even realize you've arrived, moved around his habitual pacing to set your bag on his bed, and now you're simply watching him with fond curiosity.

He shrieks when he finally notices you. Practically has a heart attack and knocks over at least four stacks of meticulously arranged cds and various technological components. Eventually joins in your laughter after he's calmed down enough to see the humor in the situation.

Just this once, Donnie has cleared his timetable of various projects to focus soley on you. That isn't to say that before he's blown you off or ignored you, but by now you are well aware how hard he has to work to contain his wandering mind, al lthe little tips and tricks he uses to keep his focus on the here and now and not bouncing from idea to idea.

The two of you will not be spending too much time out in the main area. The time it takes the two of you to procure dinner is more than enough brotherly interaction for the tall turtle. Not to mention, it turns almost awkward as the other's try desperately to not make prolonged eye contact with anyone else. They learned a long time ago not to tease the brother that controls all their devices and the access to the wifi.

Once Donnie and you are comfortable back in his room, the true hang out will begin. You'll play rock-paper-scissors to pick a movie, Donnie always lets you win, but he gets to pick the music that plays in the background. If you want, he'll access his computer and set up the program to make the lights in his room dance to the beat. Curled up in his arms, it is the easiest place to fall asleep, surrounded by fluttering lights that mimic being underwater.

Donnie may not actually sleep, but he stays with you the entire night. If you wake at all it might be to the idle scratching of pen on paper as he writes, his hand moving in your hair or along your back, or to his soft breaths caught in a light doze, a soft churr rumbling in his chest. If you're also the type to burn the midnight oil, you both might stay up talking long enough that the morning slowly creeps up on you before you both pass out.

Splinter often stops by the Lab in the morning on his way to meditate, if only to wrap a blanket over his son's shoulders and move his glasses to a safe spot. It's an ingrained habit, so much so that it doesn't even register that you spent the night until he quietly opens the door. He takes on look at the two of you holding each other close, and turns away with a smile.

Dee can cook, but most likely he'll order from the diner one block above their preferred manhole cover, and the two of you will sneak out for eggs, bacon and pancakes before secreting it away in his room so you don't have to share.

RAPHAEL

If the two of you are close enough for a sleepover, Raph is going to be the calmest of his brothers about you being in his personal space. Sure, he'll clean up, make sure all his dirty clothes are in his hamper and all the drawers actually shut on his dresser, but don't expect much in the way of fanfare.

He doesn't care where you wanna hang out in the evening, as long as you're comfortable. If you're out in the Lair proper however, get ready for some brotherly jockeying. Mikey almost can't help teasing Raph about having a guest over for the night, but the bigger brother will take it in stride as long as its only Mikey. Donnie tends to stay out of the limelight when it comes to teasing, but you better hope Leo doesn't so much as raise an eye ridge in Raph's direction. To be fair, the blue turtle is likely only drawing attention to how soft for you Raph is, but the two of them earning a trip to the Ha'shi might put a bit of a damper on the sleepover.

Leo's right though, Raph is completely soft for you. You want something to eat? He'll go get it for you without even a huff. You want popcorn for the movie? He'll bring back soda as well. You ask how much he can bench? He'll toe the line between showing off and making sure he can actually handle the weight. You neck hurts from having to crane around him to watch the movie? He'll lay on the ground and let you splay across his shell. You blink at him and sleepily ask to be carried? You're already up in his arms before you can even finish the sentence.

When it comes time to sleep, Raph will insist you take the inside of the bed, close to the wall, but he's thought ahead and gotten you your own pillow so you don't have to share with him. Yes, technically its from Mikey's room, but don't worry he disinfected it with a shit-ton of Lysol and Frebreze and washed the cover. This doesn't mean he doesn't want to cuddle, but of all the things Raph understands in his life, the very first few are the difference in size between the two of you, just how much he weighs, and how strong he is. So he'll tuck you against the wall and lay out on his stomach in one of the few positions that makes it hard for him to tip over. There's just enough room between the lip of his shell and the mattress for you to slot yourself against him, and he'll take the opportunity to slide his arm around your waist and bury his snout in your hair.

He'll hold you there throughout the night, breath slow and even. If you wake, be prepared that any movement will rouse him. He can't exactly help it, and he tries not to make you feel guilty over it, but you can always make out the green shine of his eyes peering down to make sure you are ok before he drifts back off again.

This turtle churrs sometimes in his sleep, but it's not the cute or soothing churr of contentment. No, someone parked a diesel engine in his man and is revving it like he's driving up an inclined gravel mountain road. The only way to get him to stop is to poke the thin strip of skin along his side, repeatedly, until he snorts and shifts. 50/50 chance the shifting will stop the churring. If not, you'll have to repeat the process.

In the morning, he'll dip before you wake, and come back to the room with warm pastries and whatever he's seen you drink in the morning. If you want your breakfast right away however, you might have to bribe him with turtle smooches as he tries to steal back his spot and catch up on the cuddles he's missed being a good boyfriend. Yes, he's holding you hostage, unless you want to try climbing over him. You might succeed if you make him laugh.

At some point in the day, after breakfast and whatever morning routine you keep, Raph will ask you what you want to do. If you want to go home, decompress, he'll take you home, but if you want to stay again and hang out some more you'll get to see the sweetest, softest smile break across his face.

#bayverse tmnt fanfic #tmnt bayverse #bayverse tmnt x reader #TMNT leonardo #TMNT raphael #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt donatello #bayverse donatello #bayverse leonardo #bayverse raphael #bayverse michelangelo #bayverse mikey x reader #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse donnie x reader #my writing requests

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madlori · 3 months

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there are a lot of headcanons about tommy becoming resentful of the time buck spends with eddie, but give me the reverse. give me eddie resentful of the time buck spends with tommy.

eddie's alone and sad with chris gone. both buck and tommy, together and individually, try to do things with him and be there for him but sometimes they actually do want to be alone together, and eddie just...can't seem to stop getting in the way. he invites himself along to stuff. he asks if he can come hang out when they're having a night at home together. he takes up their free evenings with obsessively making plans so he can avoid being alone in his house and they're just starting to get worn down.

eventually buck has to sit him down and say, eddie, my man, my dude, you're family to me, i care about you so much, so does tommy, but for the love of all that's holy please understand that sometimes i need to be alone with my boyfriend.

and eddie is embarrassed that he's been so clingy but also low-key hates that they have this relationship with each other that doesn't include him. he's happy that buck's found the love he always yearned for and deserved, but he can't stop feeling hurt and left out and there's just no way to make it better.

so what does he do? does he stay resentful and let it fester until it becomes anger and it ruins his friendship with buck?

maybe at one point he would have done that. but this time...this time he recognizes the path he's on and decides to take action to not let that happen. buck is too important to him. he has to find a way to occupy himself without relying soley on buck.

so he joins a boxing gym that nobody else goes to and starts working out there. he makes a friend who's also dealing with loneliness.

he starts volunteering on off-shift mornings at a botanical garden and finds that digging in the dirt and getting sweaty and dirty is very therapeutic. after a few weeks, some of the other volunteers invite him to come to brunch after their shift.

he discovers the LAFD Discord and that it has a whole bunch of sub-groups where first responders from all over the city get together for activities. he joins the golf group. he joins the cooking group. he goes on an axe-throwing outing.

he makes other friends.

there are no other friends like Buck. there will never be another friend like Buck. but there are people he can spend time with now, and give Buck a break so he can spend time with Tommy and also just have time to himself.

buck still brings dinner over once a week. he takes eddie on hikes. he and tommy fly him to san diego for the day and they go to the beach. but eddie also goes golfing with the LAFD Discord club. He goes to Station 133, which has the nicest kitchen in the LAFD, for the cooking club and learns some new recipes.

He has brunch with Chim and Maddie. He and Hen take Mara and Denny to mini-golf. He helps Bobby do DIY work on their new home to bring the kitchen up to his standards.

He learns to live without Chris. He learns to have support that doesn't entirely revolve around Buck. He watches Buck and Tommy get more and more serious, but now he's not resentful or scared - he's only happy, to see his best friend so happy. When they move in together, the three of them spend the first night Buck lives with Tommy eating pizza, drinking beer and watching baseball on TV.

And the first time Buck and Tommy ask him to come on a hike with them, and he has to decline because he has other plans, he's relieved, because they still want him around. They still want to be his friend. He hasn't worn them down.

He will always need Buck, he will alway love him. But he knew it wasn't fair to make Buck his entire support system...so he built a bigger one, and it's big enough to support them all.

When Chris facetimes him, he notices that his dad is looking less despondent. he has things to talk about, like the botanical garden and Bobby and Athena's new house and the firepit he's helping Buck build in Tommy's backyard. He's more open and honest. He doesn't sound so desperate. So Chris says he wants to come home, and when he does, Eddie's just happy he's back. Not desperate, not resentful or angry. And he has these new friends.

One of those new friends is another volunteer at the botanical gardens. she's a trauma nurse and does gardening to help her cope. eddie suggests she might like to try boxing as exercise, and she loves it. she is invited to a firefam BBQ at Buck and Tommy's house, and chris can't help but notice that she looks at his dad like he's really something -- and he's looking back the same way.

and if Chris had been worried that his time away would have hurt his dad, or made him sadder -- which he definitely didn't worry about, totally didn't, never at all -- he's not worried about that anymore.

#i made myself emotional about eddie #eddie diaz #bucktommy #platonic buddie #buddie friendship #9-1-1 spec #9-1-1 spoilers #evan buckley #tommy kinard #tevan #kinley

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heyimkana · 1 year

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24 Hours with You (Satoru Ver.) - Ep. 2

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: The second episode of a mini-series where you’ll live through the hours you spend together with your husband, Gojo Satoru. Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Female Reader Genre: Domestic AU, Fluff, Romance, Humor Word Count: 9K Warnings: no plot, just a compilation of fluffy scenes that you share with your whipped, super annoying husband, Satoru. there's a bit of a smutty scene but it's not explicitly written.

Episode 2: Daylight

07.04 AM

The morning sunray seeps through your windows, kissing your skin with familiar warmth. The red roses Satoru bought you yesterday greet you with their sweet scent as they sit prettily in a glass vase that glimmers like crystal underneath the light. You take a quick scan around, expecting the worst but surprisingly, besides the bedroom, your place is still recognizable despite the drunk antics that you and your husband did last night after finishing a whole bottle of wine to yourselves.

Your work doesn’t start until nine, and although usually, you would leave at 8.15 to avoid the risk of turning up late, after noticing what day it is, you reckon that traffic won’t be so bad. Plus, your home is only around ten minutes away from your office anyway. It’s the main reason why Satoru insisted on buying this condominium in the first place—to give you more time to yourself (and for him to cuddle with you on the sofa because you always look so snuggly in the morning). Maybe you can take it easy today. Brushing your teeth and changing your nightgown into an oversized hoodie (Satoru’s) and a pair of comfy sweatpants, you get yourself to work.

Among the clutters on the floor are your cocktail dress and Satoru’s expensive suit and tie, scattered all over the carpet, giving you a quick flashback of what happened after you arrived home from the fancy restaurant he took you last night. The exchange of heavy, scorching kisses in the elevator… Your spine pressed flat against the wall with his head between your thighs the second the front door was shut close… A bottle of red wine tasted directly from each other’s tongue… And…

You glance down at your hands, feeling heat flaring in your cheeks as your eyes land on the thin, but quite noticeable, purple bruises that circle your wrists like dark bracelets.

Last night was… wild.

“God, we’re not young anymore,” you mumble to yourself, shamefaced, as you head toward the kitchen. There are empty plates and half-filled glasses left abandoned on the aisle, and a pizza box that you ordered at two in the morning for an emergency snack (Satoru always gets hungry after sex), but it will only take you a few minutes to clean everything up, so everything’s fine.

Today’s start isn’t so bad.

The condo that you and Satoru bought together felt too spacious and grand at first. The neat white walls somehow screamed lonely, desperate for human touch. But after living here for three years, three whole years of a happy marriage with occasional fights that never lasted a night, it felt truly like home—the kind that you’ve never had the joy to experience before.

Silly Polaroid photos of the two of you are plastered all over the fridge. A collection of your favorite novels sits on the bookcase among healthy pileas that tumble elegantly over the shelves. Satoru’s favorite Hatsune Miku figures are there too, despite your constant begging to just throw them away, but that’s marriage, isn’t it? You just have to compromise on every single thing. Even when the color of Hatsune’s stupid hair—why does it have to be turquoise of all shades?—ruins your aesthetic.

A huge, beautiful mural showcasing the map of the world can be found painted on one side of the wall. In some countries, there are words written by colorful markers, telling a story of the memorable journeys you’ve had together. Satoru’s messy handwriting used to be there but you scrapped them all because drawing a bunch of arrows pointing at different cities and writing down the words “We did it here” or “We also did it here” and “We toooootally did it here” with wink faces on the sidedon’t exactly seem appropriate, especially since Megumi’s son often comes by to visit his favorite uncle. (The word ‘favorite’ here is self-proclaimed. Megumi never said that. His son also never said that. Satoru is just delusional.)

You catch a whiff of your husband’s perfume, still somewhat lingering close, a sweet reminder of your chaotic days in high school and the moment your romance bloomed during your college days. Oh, also, coffee. You’re gonna need a lot of that if you want to get through all of your work meetings today. The smell of freshly brewed coffee is one of your favorite scents in the world and you smile to yourself as you pour it into your mug.

“Someone looks happy,” Satoru sniffles as he places his chin on your shoulder, long arms winding themselves around the dip of your waist. And cuddly, he adds in his head. Though he always finds himself swooning seeing you in your cocktail dress or work attire, he adores this look the most. Messy bun, bare face with acne patches on your chin and nose, his hoodie covering your body to the middle of your thighs. You're precious.

He won’t say this to you though, not today.

“Someone sounds a bit grumpy.” You tilt your head just enough to peck him on the cheek. “Took you long enough to finish.”

“Well, it would’ve only taken me ten minutes if somebody was kind enough to lend me a hand.”

“What, your two hands aren’t enough?”

“They don’t feel as good as yours.” He’s pouting. Even if you can’t see it, you can tell he is. “I didn’t finish, by the way. Thank you for asking.”

A chuckle escapes you. “Honey, you finished, like, four times last night.”

“You’re missing the point,” he sighs. “I don’t think I’ve told you this but…” He turns your body around, making you face him with your cup between your hands and your back leaning against the kitchen counter. He’s still in his boxer shorts, you notice, but he’s made the effort of throwing on a green pastel shirt, hanging loose on his body and unbuttoned to his chest. Satoru rests his palms on the surface, trapping you between his arms. “I think I’m getting so dependent on you now that I can’t even cum on my own.”

“You can’t do anything without me these days, actually,” you comment, running your mouth without realizing that he’s desperate for your sympathy. He gives you a look, staring flatly at you. “And I can’t do anything without you, my love,” you add with a smile, tapping his cheek. “There. Happy now?”

“Wouldn’t kill you to say it once in a while,” he answers, and you roll your eyes. “I’m just saying, I used to do it so easily, you know? I didn’t even need to look at actual porn to jerk off. I was so in control of my body. Just had to picture you naked on your knees with my di—”

“Careful.”

He cuts himself short. “—and I’d be done in, like, two minutes.”

“I see. And here I thought today was going to be boring,” you reply, sarcasm running thick in each word.

“But these days…” His eyes droop. “It hasn’t been that easy. Sometimes I couldn’t even, umm… get it hard,” he admits, blushing. It’s a bit of a confession that he’s been trying to keep to himself for a while.

“What, really? Like, at all?”

He sheepishly nods. “There’s this one time when you were away on a business trip and it had been so long since we had sex so I wanna… You know…”

“Play with your carrot?” You suggest, taking a sip of your coffee. “Rub the eggplant? Stroke the banana?”

There’s a momentary silence where he just looks at you, unamused.

You, also, stay hushed.

Then, “Caress the fresh zucchini—”

“I think that’s enough, babe.”

“Oh, so when I say it, you don’t like it. But when you say it—”

“You’re not saying it at the right time—You know what? Forget it.” Satoru pushes himself away from the counter, fuming and you laugh.

Catching him by the wrist, you whirl him back to you. “I’m sorry. You’re just so cute. I think this is the first time I’ve seen you act like this.”

“Can you be serious, please? This is actually very important to me.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You stand on your toes, kissing his pout away. “I’ll pay attention, I promise. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I’m a bit scared,” he says, his shoulders sagging. He looks like a sad puppy. A giant, 193cm tall sad puppy. Even your puppy didn’t look as depressed as him now when she was on the verge of death. “What am I going to do when you’re away for two weeks and I can’t even jerk off once?”

You know you don’t have to jerk off, right? Your mouth is itching to say the words. “Two weeks aren’t even that long.”

“Of course, they are!”

“Okay, so you can’t jerk off for two weeks. What is the big deal—”

“What’s the big deal?!” He gasps, as dramatically as ever, one hand slapped against his chest. “You’re asking me what’s the big deal?! What if this is a sign of early erectile dysfunction?!”

Hereeee we go. “From someone who came four times last night, what are you saying?!”

“Excuse me, are you a doctor?” His voice drops, his face solemn. “Are you an urologist?”

You sigh. “No.”

“Do you have a penis?”

“Satoru—”

“Do you?”

You’re rubbing your head, headaches incoming. “You wouldn’t have married me if I had one now, would you?”

“Not true but okay. Anyway—”

“Wait, hold up, what does that mean—”

“The point is,” he puts pressure on his words, pinching your nose so you’ll stop talking. “No penis, no opinion. Also, multiple studies by Chinese researchers have shown that in order to avoid getting prostate cancer, men should release their sperm around two to four times a week. And—” He holds up a finger in the air, shutting you down before you even begin to open your mouth. “When you orgasm, your brain releases a surge of dopamine, right? I need that, especially when you’re not around to help me manage my stress.”

You press your lips together, as tightly as you can, afraid that you’ll break into another bout of laughter if you don’t. “I see.” It’s so hard to keep your voice away from shaking. He’s so serious, it’s almost out of character for him to be this serious. “So you’re, uhh… You’re stressed, huh?”

“Oh, I am, baby. I’m so stressed out.” He swats his bangs out of his eyes, pushing back his hair. “Look at me. I just woke up and I look like this. You think it’s not stressful to look this handsome every day? I have to work twice as hard as anyone else in my building just to be taken seriously. Especially by the CEO.”

“You mean your daddy.”

“My CEO.”

“Who’s your daddy.” Right after you hear yourself saying the line, you snort, failing to contain your laughter. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I just had a flashback of the time when you said those words to me in bed and—” You wipe a tear away, your body shaking from your titters. “God, that was cringe.”

Satoru narrows his eyes. “So you are laughing at me.”

“Yeah, but not because of the things you’re saying right now.” The more you try to explain, the more he seems insulted. “Sorry. Continue.”

His nose flares. He would’ve been vexed if you didn’t look so adorable holding back your giggles. “All the other workers think I’m not fit to be next in line—to lead the company. They think I get everything I want just because I have a pretty face and I’m his only son.”

Well, I mean, they’re not wrong, you ponder to yourself, though you know if you mention it out loud, he’s going to cry. “They’re jealous of you.”

“And then of course there’s that guy, Kenjaku, who clearly wants to take my place so he’s been trying to get close to my dad,” Satoru clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Can you believe they went golfing together? Gol. Fing. My dad never even let me touch his golf club!”

Oh, he’s ranting. He’s so upset, he’s ranting like a tired housewife and it’s hilarious. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” You spread your arms, offering him a smile. “Do you want a hug?”

“Okay,” he mumbles cutely, moving toward your embrace with his lower lip jutted out. He goes down to his knees, tangles his arms around your waist, and nuzzles his face against your belly.

“I think they just feel intimidated by you.” You land a hand on his head. For some reason, his hair is always extra fluffy in the morning. “Smart, charismatic, and sexy? They don’t stand a chance against my husband.”

Usually, you would have him go back to his feet (figuratively and literally) right away after hearing such words, but Satoru only lets out a small hum—responding but not quite agreeing—as he buries his nose deeper in your fabric. Seems like this one is serious. “Toru, you’ll be okay.”

“I can’t do it without you, babe,” he says, his voice muffled by your hoodie.

“What, getting that promotion without people judging?”

“No. Cumming.”

“Oh, we’re going back to that.” You chortle lightly, stroking his strands. “Okay, listen.” Cupping his cheek, you lift his face to meet your gaze. “You don’t have erectile dysfunction.” You return the small space between you, your lips curving up beautifully as you bend down and give him a light kiss on his forehead. “And next time, I’ll take care of your needs. Promise.” Noticing how his eyes take a quick look at the kitchen counter, you add, “Not right now, Satoru.”

“Meanie.” Your husband groans, playfully biting your hand. “And how are you planning to take care of me the next time we’re separated from each other?”

“I’ll do something to help you, uhh… do whatever it is you need to do.”

His eyes light up. “Will you FaceTime me and give me a strip dance with Closer by Nine Inch Nails playing in the background?”

That’s… oddly specific… “And why does it have to be that song, if I may ask?”

“No reason, really…” He averts his gaze. “Just… You know, it makes me think about you…” He seems a bit shy.

Wait. Shy? Satoru is?

How does the song go again?

You tear down my reason It's your sex I can smell You make me perfect Become somebody else I wanna fuck you like an animal

You send your husband a blank stare. Look at him. This pervert is asking you this while acting like an embarrassed schoolgirl standing in front of her crush. “If it’s not too much to ask,” he says, so cutely as if he was asking you to make him his favorite dish for dinner.

Of course, it’s too much to ask, are you insane? “Or,” you suggest calmly with a forced smile. “We can do slightly more romantic stuff like calling each other on the phone and—”

“DO PHONE SEX?” Stars in his eyes. There are stars in his eyes.

“Uhh…”

“Please say yes, please say yes!”

That isn’t exactly what you have in mind, but can you even decline when he’s like this? Telling him no right now would feel just as awful as when you (because of Satoru, of course) accidentally revealed the truth about Santa to your nephew, giving Megumi a hard time feeding his son who started a hunger strike as he went into depression mode for three days. (This is a horrible comparison, by the way. One child was asking about Santa while this one is asking for the opportunity to whisper “I wanna fuck you like an animal” in your ear when you’re a hundred miles away from home. Two totally different cases, but you know Satoru will behave the same way as your nephew if you reject his wish. Probably even worse.)

With your head throbbing, you murmur, “Maybe just a little…”

“Promise?” He holds up his pinky, grinning from ear to ear.

All that positive energy you had this morning? Drained. “Promise…”

“Yaay~”

As you break into a cold sweat thinking about the unfortunate event that will soon befall you (aka the phone sex), Satoru, is already back to his giddy and frisky self. Well, as long as he’s happy, I guess.

“What are you having?” He asks, jumping back to his feet. “Coffee?”

“Mm. You want some?”

“Nah. I’m craving hot chocolate.” He reaches a hand toward the high drawer to get hold of his favorite mug, looming above you and intentionally knocking his chest against your face as he traps you in between. He giggles when you glare. He’s childish that way.

“How very girly of you.”

“It’s to relieve my stress.” He pokes you in the stomach. “Also, liking hot chocolate doesn’t make me look girly.”

“Sure, but trying on my skirt does.”

“Babe, come on,” Satoru whines, his earlobes turning scarlet. “How many times are you going to hold me on this? I was just messing around!”

“Honey, you were alone in our bedroom, wearing my maxi skirt and checking yourself in the mirror.”

“It was a dare from Suguru.”

“And taking selfies.”

“So I can send some proof to Suguru.”

“Not the point, Satoru.”

“That is the point! Babe, can’t you see? Saying no to the stupid dare would’ve made me seem less manly than he is.”

“So you’d rather put yourself in a skirt?”

“Well, duh!”

You can’t find the logic in his excuse, you really can’t. “In my defense, though,” he adds. “I thought you were gonna be out for a little longer.”

“What would’ve happened if I were? Gonna put on my thong next?”

“No,” he scoffs, trying to regain whatever amount of dignity he has left. “Also, it’s not like you’ve never done something embarrassing before. Remember that time when we went to Megumi’s birthday dinner and you ended up telling his nana a dick joke?”

“That was also you.”

“No, no. I meant, that one with the salaryman meeting a guy in a horse costume—” His realization falls upon him. “Oh my God, it was me.”

You shake your head, amused. “It’s okay.” You turn to face the counter once again, placing your mug on the surface before you reach forward to grab a bit more cream. “After being married to you for three years, the only thing that will surprise me is if you grow another head. Anything else, I can manage.”

“Why does this sound comforting and insulting at the same time?”

“Because it’s both.”

With his lower lip protruding, Satoru hugs you again from behind, his chin settled on the top of your head this time. This is why he claims to be all stressed out whenever you’re away. He’s so keen on physical touch that he can’t bear even a few inches of distance between you when you’re around. He reaches up to open the counter, grabbing a jar filled with cocoa powder. His chest is pressing against your spine, his other arm never leaving your waist. “I think we run out of sugar,” he says. “Wanna drop by the mart after work? I’m gonna have meetings all day today, but I can ditch the dinner party.”

“You’re not coming?”

“Hell no. Suguru’s hosting. He makes the worst parties.”

“Isn’t he the guy who’s rumored to be in love with you? I heard about it from Shoko.”

“Yeah,” Satoru snickers, very childishly. “I was the one who started the rumor by putting a note on his desk that said ‘I wish one day you’ll look at me the way you look at your wife. Your silver hair and pretty blue eyes have captivated me from the moment I laid my eyes on you. I dream of tasting your soft lips every night.’ It was so easy to copy his handwriting, I just couldn’t help it. Yuki found out about it and she started gossiping and by the end of the day, everyone knew. I took the note away before he noticed. Suguru never found out I did that, didn’t even know what was going on. He was so confused when people tried to cheer him up. I saw Choso giving him a pat on his shoulder, saying ‘We all love you for who you are, never change.’ And Suguru was like, ‘Uuuh, thanks, but I don’t want to be a salesman forever.’ And so both of them were confused.”

Your mouth twists into a grimace. “You are evil.”

“I prefer the term genius,” he corrects you, seemingly proud of his deed.

“Also, soft lips?”

“Aren’t they?” He seductively raises an eyebrow. To be fair, yes, they are. Even on the coldest night, they’re still as soft as a butterfly’s wing. He has claimed many times that he only used a lip balm if necessary but you don’t buy it. There must be witchcraft involved. He puckers his lips, ready to kiss you and make you experience the thick jealousy you have of his pretty mouth—because, really, all these lip balms you have and your lips are still chapped during winter. You dodge, pushing your palm against his face instead. The big puppy that he is, he licks it.

“I think I’ll be out of the office around seven today,” he informs as you scrunch up your nose in disgust, wiping his saliva away.

“Okay. Pick me up first?”

“Like you need to ask,” Satoru smiles, granting a cute kiss on your forehead. He dabs his thumb on the corner of your lips, rubbing off a little bit of sugar from the leftover doughnut that you enjoyed with your coffee. He cleans it off his digit with his tongue, randomly ruffling your hair as he makes his way to the living room.

“Oh, wait, almost forgot,” he says, retracing his steps.

“Hmm?”

Satoru snatches a jar from the counter—the one that you just used, filled with cream—and puts it in the highest drawer, the closest one to the ceiling. “Just a little payback,” he sniggers. “For giving me blue balls this morning.”

With him being 193 cm tall, he simply needs to stand on his toes for a little bit to reach it, but you? “I think you’re gonna need a ladder.” His teeth flash in an irritating grin. “Enjoy your creamless coffee for the next few weeks, Sweetcheeks—OUCH—BABY, THAT’S MY KNEE!”

“Grab the jar.”

“Fine.” He retrieves it with a grumble, handing it back to you. “But I’m reporting you for domestic abuse.”

You raise your wrist, showing the actual bruises he left on your skin. “I’ll see you at court then.”

“Babeeeeeee~”

***

07.21 AM

“Satoru.”

Your dear husband has been lying down on the couch for the past ten minutes, a head of velvety hair—which somehow still smells pleasantly like your favorite shampoo—resting on your lap. With a pair of round glasses perched on his nose, he turns deaf ears to everything that’s going on, focusing on nothing but moving his thumbs to win the next round of Momotetsu. As his eyebrows wrinkle in deep concentration, Satoru punches the buttons on his Nintendo Switch, glaring at the screen and swearing under his breath.

“Satoru.”

“Wait, babe, I just need to choose this card and—NOOOOOOOO!” He launches himself forward, sitting up with his mouth gaping, his eyes shaking in horror. “Did I just—yep, lost a million yen. Fuck this game. A Martha card?! A fucking Martha card?! Oh, I’m gonna—” He slams his console against the cushion. Repeatedly. He’s 29, and he throws a bigger tantrum than Megumi’s three-year-old son.

“Watch your blood pressure, Honey.”

“Who even invented this game?! Stupid as shit. Babe, do me a favor and don’t ever let me play—” His phone rings before he can finish. Throwing one glance at his screen, Satoru mutters, “Oh, great. Here we go.”

The name Dumbass Monk is written on his phone. You wonder who it is.

Satoru answers through gritted teeth. “Fuck you, Suguru.”

Ah, yes, of course.

“No, how the fuck should I know that the card was gonna choose me?!” he barks, his voice bouncing off the walls. “I wanted it to choose you—oh fuck off, asshole, you’re broke as hell, you smell like wet socks, and your wife hates you. Wait, what was that?” He suddenly switches his voice, doing his best impersonation of a nosy old lady talking about the latest gossip. “You don’t have a wife? Not even a girlfriend?” He maniacally cackles. “I don’t know, man, I don’t think I’m the loser here. Unlike you, I’ve got a super hot wife who loves me unconditionally.”

You flip a page of the book you have sitting on your lap. “Only ‘cause you’re rich.”

“And—” Satoru continues yapping on his phone but he makes sure to poke you on your side for your unnecessary comment. “She’s not just hot. She’s a complete package. She smells like daffodils, she makes me breakfast every morning and she looks so fucking gorgeous when she fucks—”

You slap a pillow against his head.

“—feeds me cookies,” Satoru finishes lamely, wincing, one hand raised in the air as a form of surrender before he takes another hit. “No, I’m not gonna pay you, idiot, you won purely by luck!” He then gasps, his jaw dropping low. “Did you just call me a monkey? Oh, that’s it—”

Satoru is on his feet, shouting, growling, fingers jabbing and clenching as his mouth runs wild. You can somewhat hear the other man’s voice, giving you enough idea of what they’re arguing about although you can’t make out every word. Suguru’s tone is always soft and melodious when he speaks, but his insults are truly on another level. Chuckling to yourself at the strings of expletives that tumble out of their mouths, you watch your husband yell until blood pools on his face, “Fine! Don’t come crying to me when you have erectile dysfunction, which, based on all the non-existent sex you’ve been having, I know you will! Good day!” Suguru is still calling him names when Satoru ends the call with, “I SAID GOOD DAY!”

You flip another page of the novel you've been trying—and failing due to someone’s endless shouting—to immerse yourself in. “Seems like you two are close.”

“Oh, he can die, I don’t care.” Angrily, he tosses his device away, landing his head back on your lap with the loudest groan he can muster. “Whatever. I’m still a better player than he is.”

“Of course, you are, honey,” you respond, your hand naturally falls back to his hair, caressing it like you’re stroking a cat’s fur.

It only takes a few seconds before your husband stops shaking in vexation, even looking a bit sleepy from your comforting touches. “Were you talking to me before?”

“Mm. There’s something I wanted to ask you.” Placing a bookmark in between the pages, you close your book and set it down on the coffee table next to you. “About before, when you told me about your co-workers. How did you know that they’ve been thinking about you that way?”

He blinks, not expecting you to return to your previous conversation. “Aaaw, honey, are you worried about me?” From wishing someone to suffer crucially from impotence to wiggling in joy like a thirteen-year-old girl at the slightest sign of affection, your husband really does have an emotional range of a teaspoon.

“Of course, I do. You’re my husband.”

His mouth curves upside-down, his eyes glimmering, “Babeee, that’s so sweeeet.”

Though you're not so sure why he’s so happy when you just stated a fact, you let him be. “So what happened?”

“I heard them chatting when I passed by the smoking room one afternoon. I don’t smoke—you know I quit a long time ago—so I didn’t know they were ganging up on me and talking shit about me behind my back. Isn’t it gross for a bunch of thirty-year-old men to gossip?” His face scrunches up in disgust. He, the same man who spent two hours on the phone talking to the Dumbass Monk about the recently hired secretary, Maki Zenin (who’s apparently so strict and vicious that, in Satoru’s words, “Almost made me cry in fear when I arrived late at my lunch meeting last week.”), actually had the audacity to ask that question.

"What did they say?” You ask him.

“They said if it wasn’t because of my family name, I would’ve never gotten promoted to C-level.”

“But that’s not true!”You catch him off guard with your sudden fervor after spending the last conversation acting so dull. “I’ve seen how much you worked for this! Satoru, you earned that position fair and square!” Your husband might act frivolous almost every hour of the day, but there were times that he missed his sleep trying to come up with a new marketing strategy to promote their upcoming products. There were hours spent with him taking one conference call after another with his clients, even at two in the morning from the comfort of your living room due to the difference in their time zones. He’s the CEO’s son, true, but he worked just as hard, if not more, as everyone else in the company.

The more it sinks into your brain, the more irked you become. “Who said this?” You snap. “Huh? Who talked shit about you behind your back? I want names.”

Satoru lets out a chuckle, his eyes thinning into a line. It’s been a while since he last saw you being this protective of him. It reminds him of the old days in high school when you, despite acknowledging yourself as being his archenemy, were always quick to defend him when someone threw shade at him. “Honey, relax—”

“Was it Naoya? Or was it Toji? It was Toji, wasn’t it? Oh, that bitch—”

“It wasn’t Toji,” Satoru says, holding you by the hand in a futile attempt to calm you down. “Though you could still punch him if you want.”

“Why, did he do something to you?”

“I just hate his face.”

That’s very Satoru behavior of him that you don’t even bother to comment. “Nobody talks shit about my husband. If they think you get things done easy for you, it’s because you’re so smart, you make things look easy.”

He sits up, turning around to face you with warm, round eyes. “You think I’m smart?”

“Are you kidding me? You’re the smartest man I know.” You give him a light punch on his chest. “If I were your dad, I would’ve still given you that promotion, regardless of our relationship. You’re just that good at your job.”

“That’s…” He swallows. “This is the first time you’ve complimented me like this.” It’s a surprise to him, a very pleasant one, causing contentment to fill his heart.

You feel awful once you notice that even though you constantly thought of him this way, you never spoke your appreciation out loud. “Satoru, I’ve always admired you.” You rest your fingers on his knuckles, apologizing. “I know you complain about having to wake up early to go to work every morning, but despite your flippant attitude, you bear a deep sense of responsibility. You always manage to surpass people’s expectations—surpass mine and I already thought highly of you.” You give him a squeeze, smiling more with your eyes than your lips. “You make me proud. Every day you make me proud.”

Satoru mirrors your expression, a soft blush painting his cheeks as his joy engulfs him whole. He wraps his arms around you, sinking his nose in your hair as he pulls you close. “You’re not throwing compliments at me just to cheer me up, are you?” He whispers and it’s only during times like this that he lets his vulnerability show. Satoru always shines like the brightest star, his eyes brimming with confidence, but there’s still a part of him—part that he conceals from everyone else except you—that needs to be consoled. He’s still a little boy who wishes for a gentle pat on the head and you always give the warmest one.

“I’m not complimenting you, I’m telling the truth. But yes, I am trying to cheer you up.” You return his embrace, your hand sliding up and down his back. “I wouldn’t have said this if you were okay ‘cause I know it’s gonna boost up your ego even more. You’re already annoying the way you are, so…”

He titters. “Can we stick to you being nice to me?”

You echo the noises he made, returning the space between you just wide enough to kiss his cheek. You cup his face with your fingers, your thumb caressing his cheekbone. “I’m sorry people said mean stuff about you… Are you okay?”

“I am now.” His smile is softer than the clouds. He leans close, cutely nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours. “This is why I need you in my life. You act aloof around me but you always think about me more than you think about yourself. You pretend to be ignorant, but you never fail to notice all these efforts I made. You care about me more than anyone else.”

Watching him put your feelings into words makes you feel flustered but you don't deny it. Not when he speaks only the truth. “I can also kick everyone’s butt for you.”

“As someone who has witnessed your heroic tales in high school, yes, you can, one hundred percent.” You feel his smile forming on your skin as he kisses your temple. “But just having you around me right now is enough. And it’s fine. I don’t care what anyone else thinks about me, at least not anymore. As long as you’re proud of me.”

“I am,” you say without missing a beat. “I’m proud of you, Toru.”

He takes away your hand that’s been warming his face, kissing your wrist while he maintains eye contact with you. “That’s all that matters to me.”

Your stomach swirls at the intensity of his gaze, his voice—just above a whisper—bears the same kind of tenderness and affection he portrayed on the day he asked you to marry him. His lips rub against your veins, the softest kiss against the softest skin. Your hand seems tiny in his grip but it’s a perfect fit. Every part of you is when it comes to him.

“So, uhh…” You clear your throat. “What are you going to do now?”

“I guess I’ll just have to keep doing my best so I can prove them wrong.” His grin returns. “I’ll make my wife feel even prouder of me.”

He replies to your little chuckles with a kiss, light but sweet. Despite your heart wanting more of his touch, of the heat of his lips against your own, you focus on the matter. “Why have you never told me about this before?”

“Because I never cared about it too much,” he replies with a shrug. “Work only feels overwhelming when you’re not around. When you’re with me, no matter how stressful my workplace is, I’ll feel at ease instantly.” He lays his forehead on your shoulder, rubbing his face against the fabric. “So, don’t leave me, okay? If I have to go out of town, I’ll have you hide inside my suitcase so I can carry you around.”

You chortle lightly. “And if I have to go?”

“Well…” He pulls away, his eyes fixated on the shape of your lips as he caresses them with his thumb. He looks back at you, his fingertips resting on your nape, holding you still. You find your breathing stalled as his own fanned your lips. “I guess I’ll just have to convince you to stay.”

And when he kisses you again, you know that he doesn’t mean with his words.

***

07.34 AM

“Bunny!” Satoru calls from the bathroom, his voice reverberating loudly through the hall. “Baby, come over here!”

Standing in your apron with your hands moving to fetch your chopped onions from your kitchen aisle, you try your best to focus on your cooking while answering him at the same time. “For the last time, Satoru, I’m not interested in taking a shower together with you!” You sprinkle some pepper into the dish, wiping your sweat away from your temple with the back of your hand. You take a glance at the digital clock nearby. “Not when we have to leave in an hour!”

“But I’ll let you shape my hair!”

“Not interested!”

“I’ll even let you give me a mohawk!”

“Not intere—oh shit—” It’s a given, really, that you’d accidentally pour too much salt into your cream soup from all this diversion. Taking a deep breath, you start to glare at your ceiling as you chant don’t get angry, don’t get angry inside your head. This is the reason why you try to keep him off the kitchen floor as far away as possible whenever you’re making food but even when he’s meters away from you, he still manages to annoy you somehow.

“Babe, I couldn’t hear you. Was that a yes?”

“NO!”

***

07.41 AM

“Oooh~ Something smells good~” Satoru chirps, popping back into the living room with a toothy grin and a white towel wrapped around his hips. It’s hanging low on his body, showcasing very distracting V-lines that you (secretly) adore. You look away. No good can come from staring at your husband’s lean, perfectly shaped stomach at this time of the day.

But then you catch a glimpse of the scratch marks you left on his back from last night, your face aflame since you can barely remember how hard you dug your nails into his skin. Satoru always likes it when you’re not careful with him—just like how you love it when he’s rough with you—but were you really that… desperate to keep him close, clutching onto him like that?

You shake your thoughts away. “Dry your hair properly,” you mutter, keeping your eyes on the plates you’re currently setting on the dining table. “I just mopped the floor.”

“Okay, Mom.” Dabbing a smaller towel against his hair, Satoru walks closer to your spot and pulls back a chair.

You eye him cautiously. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a seat, what do you think I’m doing?”

“You’re not gonna wear your clothes first?”

“Do I have to?” He takes a sip of your half-finished coffee, smacking his lips before he throws a naughty grin. “I mean, I fucked you right here last night. Surely you won’t mind eating breakfast with me only in my towel?” Before you can say a word—and you have lots to say—Satoru adds, “I’m just giving you a chance to ogle at my body as much as you want as you enjoy your food. I know you’re too embarrassed to ask, so you’re welcome. And if you’re willing to take a day off, I can be your dessert too.”

You make a face. “Gross.”

“And yet, you don’t deny the fact that you’re planning to stare.” Peering into your eyes, he places his chin on his hand, resting his elbow on the table. The haughty look he displays on his face is supposed to irritate you, but what it does is make your heart pound harder. “You’ve seen and touched these babies for years, and you still can’t get enough? Babe, come on.”

“You seriously calling your abs your babies?”

“Yep.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “But if you play nice, I’ll let you call them—”

“Just eat your breakfast.”

***

07.46 AM

“Babe?”

“What?”

“I have something to say but promise me you won’t kill me after I said it.”

“Okay…” You look up from your plate, feeling a bit concerned. “What is it?”

Satoru has never looked this serious in his entire life (because face it, Satoru and the word serious don’t really belong together now, do they?).

Taking hold of your hand, he gently squeezes it, providing the comfort that you might need.

“This soup is salty as hell.”

***

07.58 AM

With the taste of salt still lingering thickly on his tongue (and a bump on his head, a masterpiece done by your fist), Satoru steps inside the bedroom with a yawn, his fingers scratching his undercut. He unwraps the towel from his waist, tossing it onto the sheets without care.

Your husband smiles the second he notices the way you’ve prepared his clothes so neatly on the desk, all the way from his tie, his belt even down to his socks. His dress pants are ironed to a crisp seam, and his phone is fully charged (after being married to him for three years, you’ve learned all of his little habits). You’ve selected a matching dark tie to go with his suit, one that he recalled was given to him as a gift during last year’s anniversary. He loves it. He loves how you always buy the things he needs instead of what he wants, even when he, himself, didn’t realize how essential they were. But what makes him the happiest is when he sees the way it makes you smile so warmly every time he wears it, like a painter landing a final stroke on her masterpiece. For someone who doesn’t speak romantic words so often, your little gesture never fails to portray what’s on your mind. You love him and it shows.

“I’m being spoiled, huh?” Satoru mumbles to himself, nothing but elation in his chest. He spots the little notes you left him on the same table, your handwriting scribbled on a piece of paper. “Ooooh~ A love note?”

Dear husband, If you leave your wet towel on the bed again I’ll kill you.

“Not a love note.” Wincing, he immediately retrieves the towel from the bed, his mind playing a traumatic flashback of you scolding him about it for two hours straight (because suddenly it wasn’t just about the wet towel, was it? The forgotten toilet seat. The countless jackets hanging on the coat rack because he kept grabbing a new one. The pile of hentai doujinshi piling up on the coffee table. All of them.)

With the thought of skipping today’s work lingering in his head, Satoru forces himself to dress. As he turns around to face the mirror, he captures a brief look at the kiss marks blooming on his neck, ones that you painted on him last night. They’re faint because, unlike someone in this condo, you make sure to always be considerate of his appearance (though Satoru wishes you weren’t), but even the lightest shade of red seems vibrant on his fair skin.

Although he acts nonchalant most of the time, your husband is quite the possessive type, so it’s a given that he likes the idea of having his marks on you. He gets a kick out of watching you struggle to hide the love bites he left on your neck, even more so when someone notices it. But, of course, nothing beats the feeling of having your marks on him. If you allowed him to, he would’ve worn every bite and bruise like a medal. Proudly. Contentedly. The same way he exhibited every present you’ve given him. Satoru just loves the idea of having a wife—of having you as his wife—and he would showcase that to the world in every second of his life if he could.

He traces the bruises with his fingertips, drowning himself in the thoughts of you gasping against his ear, your teeth grinding against his neck as he pushed your knees further against your stomach with every thrust of his hips. He wasn’t lying when he said you looked absolutely gorgeous during sex. The way you parted your lips. The way your eyebrows stitched together in pleasure. The little noises you made when you breathed out his name as you bounced on his lap—

Satoru looks down. There it is again, the ache between his legs. Funny how you’re already so distracting even without doing anything—or being in the same room for that matter. Sighing, he grouses, “Guess she’s right. No signs of erectile dysfunction.” Willing his indecent thoughts to go away, he tucks his hands into the sleeves, buttoning up his shirt before he circles his tie around his neck.

“Satoru!” He hears your voice resonating from the bathroom. “Toru, can you come here for a sec? I need your help!”

“Oh, now she’s calling me to have sex with her.” He rolls his eyes. “After I finish taking a shower. So much for playing hard to get,” he scoffs. It’s ironic that he says this because right now he’s the one who’sacting that way. With giddy hands, he unfastens his tie, rushing to take off his pants again and almost tripping on his way out. He dashes toward the bathroom, opening the door while he strives to keep his excitement in check.

“WHOA!” You yelp in surprise, your body nude and drenched, hiding behind the door with only your head peeking out. “Why are you naked?!”

He frowns, confused. “Cause we’re about to have sex?”

Now you’re confused. “Uhh, no?”

“Why did you call me then?”

“I forgot my towel.”

“You’re asking me to get you your towel?” He sounds so appalled as if that thought never occurred to him when it’s supposed to be the first thing that should pop out in his head. Before you can respond, however, his mind, delusional as always, answers the question for him. “Oh, I see,” he smirks. “You’re using codes.”

“What?”

“‘I forgot my towel’—isn’t that, like, our code for ‘let’s have sex in the shower?’”

“Satoru.” You hold yourself back from ripping the silver strands out of his head. He’s testing your patience. Again. “We don't have any secret code.”

“We don’t?”

“Nope.”

“Oh…” It almost feels a bit cartoonish the way his shoulders sag upon hearing your words. There he is, a 29-year-old male standing in front of you in all his naked glory, saddened to his core over the fact of not having a cipher for sex. Well, for three seconds anyway. “So… You wanna make this our secret code, effective immediately, or—”

“Get the damn towel.”

With a stomp, Satoru leaves the bathroom only to return with your towel in one hand and his eyes squinting in a glare. Being the brat that he is, instead of handing it directly to you, he lets the thick cloth fall to the floor just a few inches away from where you’re standing.

“Oh, you’re so annoying.”

“Isn’t that your secret code for saying you love me?”

You throw a jab to his stomach.

***

08.24 AM

Pushing your hair out of your coat, you call out your husband’s name. You examine your appearance one more time in the mirror, tidying your strands until they frame your face perfectly. The condo is fairly clean. Your stomach is full though you can’t seem to wash away the saltiness of your soup just yet. You’re only seven minutes late from your original plan, which isn’t bad. You’re all set.

“Toru, you’re ready to go?”

Your husband is still yawning when he meets you in the foyer, carrying his handbag with his shoulders sagging forward. He’s dressed sharply in a white button-up shirt, combined with a black suit that accentuates the broadness of his shoulders. He looks handsome. He always does.

“Well, well, well, hello, Mr. CMO,” you snicker, pulling him by the tie while seductively batting your eyelashes at him. “Do you have time to spare? I would like to have a private meeting with you.”

He’s so tired, he doesn’t have the strength to keep up with your flirting, which says something since it’s usually the other way around. He spreads his arms wide open, his pout turning more prominent by the second. “Come here.”

“What?”

“I need my twenty-second hug.”

So, apparently, Satoru believes in this theory he found recently on the internet that said when you hug someone for, at least, twenty seconds, your body begins secreting the hormone oxytocin which is known to boost the immune system and reduce stress. He said that but you know that he’s just doing it so he can squeeze your ass, and that’s a fact, not a theory.

“Fine, but don’t grope my ass.”

“As long as you don’t grope mine.”

“I literally never did that.” You bury your face in his chest, tangling your arm around his waist. Satoru’s warmth is really one of a kind, or maybe he’s just as warm as a normal human being and you’re just too intoxicated by his scent that you stop making sense. No matter what the reason is, it’s comforting to be in his arms and if he doesn’t make a big deal out of it every time (acting like you’re the one who desperately wants to embrace him), you’d probably spend hours of your day just hugging him like this.

He buries his nose in your strands. “Your hair smells different.”

“I used your shampoo.”

“Yeah? That’s hot.”

You close your eyes, basking in his warmth and enjoying the smell of his perfume. He’s wearing a different brand today, just for a change, and although it’s not as sweet as his other one, this somehow feels much more comforting. Soft and fresh, reminding you less of summer and more of spring this time. “You smell different.”

“I used your perfume. And your bra.”

You’re not sure if you’re laughing over his terrible joke or his deadpan delivery, maybe a bit of both. Nuzzling your face against his chest, you titter, “Yeah? That’s hot.”

And he’s not sure if he’s smiling over your reply or the way you just sounded so cute giggling like that—no, definitely both. He tightens his arms around your shoulders, squeezing your body against him until you start pounding your fist against his chest, begging for a time-out before he steals all the air in your lungs. “I think we should just skip work today,” he mutters as he releases you. “We can watch a wildlife documentary and count on how many times Benedict Cumberbatch mispronounced the word “Penguin” as ‘Pengwings.’”

“That sounds productive. If you want Maki to kill you.”

He shudders in fear, pulling you back to him. “Just for that, I’m gonna need another twenty.”

Though you feel the urge the roll your eyes, you let him tug you back into his arms and rest his chin on your head. After all, he’s your personal teddy bear. You can spend your eternity just sinking into his embrace like this.

“Satoru?”

“Hmm?”

“Your hands are on my ass.”

“Yeah, but I’m not groping them.”

“You are now.”

“Well now that you mentioned it, I just have to, don’t I?”

You break away, giving a playful slap on the chest. “Enough, we’re running late.”

“Where do you find the energy to go to work every morning?” He asks with weariness in his eyes. “I am this close to throwing myself back to the bed.”

Funny how literally an hour ago, he promised you that he’d work harder to make you feel even prouder of him. “Well, I guess, it all started when I turned into a fully grown woman.” You smiled at him, fixing his tie before you dealt with his collar. He might be the youngest person to enter C-level in his company, but he still dresses as clumsily as a five-year-old if it wasn’t for you to keep his appearance in check all the time.

“I’m a fully grown man too and I still wish I could lay around all day,” he sulks.

“You’re a man-child.” Tugging on his tie, you pull him down until your lips meet his in a chaste kiss. “But I love you. Body, mind, and soul.” You beam at him with your widest grin. “How’s that for your energy booster, Gojo-san?”

To your surprise, Satoru answers you by tossing his handbag to the side and dipping his head down once more to re-attach your lips together. He kisses you with the same fervor he had last night, tongue sneaking inside to taste the minty scent of your toothpaste. You gasp against his mouth, fingers fisting the fabric of his suit as you struggle to maintain your balance. Can’t help but take a couple of steps back from how hard he’s kissing you, you stop only when your spine meets the wall. “Satoru—” You attempt to push him away by placing your hand on his chest but he clamps his fingers around your wrist, bringing it over your head.

With his body pressed against yours, you wonder if he can feel your palpitating heartbeat beating against his own. There’s no stopping him when he gets this aggressive with his kiss and it’s not like you can find any willpower within you to stop him. Fortunately for you, he breaks away, wetting his bottom lip once as his eyes still glaze over your bruised ones.

“Spirits lifted,” he smiles against your lips, sending blood to pool in your cheeks. “Thanks, babe.”

When he lets you go, you find it almost impossible to stay composed. Three years… Three damn years you’ve been married to him and he still knows how to make your knees buckle with a single kiss.

“Babe?”

You push yourself away from the wall, your fingers tangled in your hair when you try to fix it. “W-what?”

Putting on his sunglasses, he casts a smirk, “You might want to fix your lipstick.”

“Oh, I hate you.”

He pecks your cheek. “I love you too, baby girl.”

***

08.32 AM

Despite you being the better driver—better as in I’m not gonna try and bribe an officer with a brand new iPhone whenever I get pulled over or threaten him with my family name when things don’t work out my way—Satoru always insists on having his hands on the steering wheel every time you’re with him. “A gentleman wouldn’t let his lady drive, especially when she looks this pretty in that skirt,” he always says, and yes, maybe this is his gentleman sidetalking—even when the said gentleman had put on the same skirt and caressed his own butt in front of the mirror a few days back. But honestly? You know this is just a part of his master plan to control the music playlist for the next ten to fifteen minutes.

“We’re not listening to Hatsune Miku again,” you say, putting on your seatbelt.

“Oh, we totally are,” Satoru cackles, his fingers sliding up and down the touchscreen. He has seventeen different playlists consisting of more than a hundred songs in total, all taken from his favorite albums. Which is not much, really, considering Hatsune Miku is featured in around two thousand songs by now (a fact that you, honest to God, don’t care but he keeps reminding you of).

“Satoru, if you play one more Hatsune Miku song, I swear I won't put out tonight.”

“Well, if I have to listen to cookbook again—”

“Jungkook.”

“If I have to listen to cookbook one more time then I won’t put out tonight.”

“That's fine with me,” you shrug.

“Fuck,” he clicks his tongue, desperately jumping to the next option. “Okay, uhh… Oh, I know! You’re not getting my credit card ever again.”

You have one finger hovering above the screen. “So which Hatsune album are we listening to today?”

He sends you a dead stare. “Do you only love me for my money?”

“Oh, honey…” You rest your palm gently on his face, cupping and stroking his cheek. “Of course, I do.” You give him a tap that goes a little too hard than you intended but then again, he kind of deserves it. “Now, drive.”

Satoru doesn’t even have the energy to come up with a retort. Exhaling in defeat, he kicks in the gear while you, with your face crumpled in repulsion, try to pick the least insufferable Hatsune Miku song. Unfortunately for you, Satoru catches a title that steals his attention.

“OOOH go back, go back! I want to listen to that one!”

You sigh, selecting his song choice. “It’s too early to listen to—” Beaming with joy and oblivious to the hatred you have for that one song, Satoru sweeps in and cranks up the volume until you feel your ears ringing from the inside.

“Oh my God—” You flinch. If his loud nagging didn’t bust your eardrum, this definitely will. “Does it have to be this loud?!”

“Of course, my goddess is singing!” He shouts, grinning from ear to ear. He starts singing along, just as loudly, if not more. At this point, you swear there are people jogging on the sidetracks looking at your car with their faces contorting into frowns.

“I’m the number one princess in the world, so that's how you'll treat me,” he sings, slamming his hands against the wheel, head bobbing to the beat. “Oh my God, this is the soundtrack of my life!”

Still scowling, you have no choice but to listen further to the lyrics.

It's not like I'm acting selfish, I'm not asking for much I just want you to think from the bottom of your heart that I'm adorable I'm the number one princess in the world Notice me! Hey! Heeey! Keeping me waiting is out of the question Just who do you think I am? Whatever, I think I could go for some dessert! Yes, right now!

You grimace. “It really is.”

***

10.54 AM

11.45 AM

01.10 PM

01.29 PM

02.05 PM

02.29 PM

03.22 PM

04.02 PM

05.28 PM

06.11 PM

07.06 PM

***

AN: Thank you so much for reading! I'm so sorry for the amount of cringe that you had to suffer through while you were reading this 😭

#gojo fluff #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru smut #satoru fluff #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fics.24hourswithyou

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moonferry · 2 months

Text

some sam puppyboy antics because i literally can't get this man out of my head.

* we all know he loves to do the "big dog who thinks they're a lapdog" thing where he will literally demand to be little spoon despite being Massive but please consider: sam with a really strong partner who actually picks him up and sam looks like those pics of huge dogs who aren't used to being held.

* loves i mean LOVES having his hair played with . i feel like he'd just spontaneously combust if you ran your fingers through it or scratched his scalp with your nails.

* gets those big, wet puppy eyes when he really wants something and it's impossible to say no to.

"farmer, can we please get/do [crazy antic]"

"sam..."

"🥺🥺🥺🥺"

"fine."

* he probably gets the zoomies lol. like if he's been working on one thing for too long, the energy just starts to build up and he needs to run around to let out some steam.

* definitely sticks his head out of the bus/car window. he's smiling the whole time, too, like a goober. and then you laugh when he gets smacked in the face by a tree branch or road sign.

* takes up the ENTIRE bed when you leave the farmhouse / it takes you too long to return at night and you just shake your head.

* wants to be super helpful so he follows you around the farm. he'd gladly hold your tools for you.

* literally holds anything you give him without hesitation or question. like you hand him a strange black and red egg? sure why not. anything you need him to hold, he's going to hold it like a good boyfriend.

* likes to receive words of encouragement/praise when he's done something good. "i watered the plants!" "oh, good job, sammy. thanks." ":D"

* little treats are a must. he isn't picky, but if you have him a joja cola or a mini pizza, he would be so happy.

* i think it would be hilarious if the farmer were to do the "dog owner talk" just to tease him like "oh, who's a good boy?! who's such a good boy? that's right, it's sammy-wammy!" he thinks it's hilarious, too, a bit annoying but funny nonetheless.

* he just likes being in the same room as you. it doesn't matter what's going on. he could even be on the other side, doing his own thing, but if you walk in you two could sit in silence and he'd be content.

* very physically affectionate & (if you're okay with it) loves to give you affection any chance he can get.

* i think he does that little excited shake/butt wiggley dogs do when their person comes back. he'd just be like yeaaah!!!! probably does it as a joke, but he's still super excited to see you. i think it would actually translate more into him running to the door and wrapping you into the biggest hug ever.

* nicknames & pet names are what you primarily call him but if he does something particularly stupid you just pull out the "samson."

* i think he'll just go off in the woods for a period of time and come back with a random trinket and then he's like "hi. i found this and i brought it back because i thought it was cool & that you'd enjoy it."

* very accident prone & is always covered in bruises from running into things or getting himself hurt.

* can fall asleep anywhere - even in positions that seem physically impossible or extremely uncomfortable.

* unrelated to the puppyboy thing but adhd sam has my heart.

* if you put your hands near his face, he is going to lick you. i'm sorry. like he has a stray hair and you try to push it out of the way? he licked your hand. it's mostly to annoy you and because he wants to be a little goober

* HOWEVER, if he's feeling very soft, he may smoosh his face into your hands and demand you cup his cheeks . just like *gently holds* yk?

* makes little noises or is constantly quoting things. i think he's a big vocal stimmer.

* loves to show you his favorite things!!! it could be some silly video on his phone or whatever but he'd be so proud of it and immediately want to show it to you.

* he would definitely go play in the mud when it's raining outside. you probably have to hose him down with the gardening hose before letting him back in the farmhouse. which also means you'd have to chase him because he does NOT want to shower

adding to this:

* he loves kisses. like a lot. he will definitely cover your face in kisses any chance he gets.

* loves it when you gently hold his face and give him kisses too. bonus points if you give him forehead kisses. he goes crazy for these and doesn't get to receive them that often bc he's so tall.

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icycoldninja · 9 months

Note

Cuddling with Dante (DMC 3) headcanons would be so cute

Aww yiss! Here ya go, enjoy the hell out of it! (I sure did)

Cuddling headcannons (DMC3! Dante x Reader)

-Likes being the little spoon; Dante is a sweet lil softie who just wants to be cuddled and snuggled.

-Doesn't mind being the big spoon if you want him to be, but he still prefers being cuddled rather than the person doing the cuddling.

-If currently being the little spoon, he will bury his face in your chest or shoulder, wrap his legs and arms around you, and just cling to you like a koala. If you want to get up, woe is you--he ain't moving for anyone or anything.

-If being the big spoon, he will wrap his legs around your back and his arms round your shoulders. Then he'll just lie there until he falls asleep.

-Never ever try to free yourself from Dante's cuddling clutches. It is an impossible feat; attempting to do so will only cause the cuddle monster to tighten his grip and whine until you cease your futile resistance.

-Very, very warm, almost like a mini heater. When you snuggle with Dante, there isn't a need for blankets.

-Sometimes puts on a movie or a show or something for you guys to watch while lying together; it's relaxing and is the perfect pre-bedtime cool down.

-Loves to play with your hair and loves it even more if you play with his.

-Will braid/brush your hair if you ask him to. He's also surprisingly good at it. Probably picked it up from Eva

-Also owns a pair of pizza themed pajamas that are very fuzzy and look super cute on him. He will definitely get you a pair if you want to match.

-At night, when he's asleep, he gravitated toward you. If you aren't already in each other's arms, he will scoot over to you until you are. More often than not, he ends up rolling on top of you, squashing you with his weight.

-But it's alright, Dante's not that heavy, and if squishing you makes him happy, then so be it. Besides, it's not like you'll feel the loss of circulation--you'll be asleep!

#Dmc #Dmc3 #Dmc3 dante #Dante #Dante Sparda #Dante x reader #Cute #Fluff #Fluffy #headcannons #fluff headcanons #Dante x reader headcannons #devil may cry 3 #Devil may cry #devil may cry 3 dante #dante devil may cry #icycoldninja writes #thanks for requesting!#Requested

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daisynik7 · 10 months

Text

Tall Idol Takada-Chan's Birthday

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~4.0k

cw: reader is mentioned having long-ish hair (enough to put into braids), reader has curves, Todo being slightly pervy, explicit language, sexually suggestive dialogue, mentions of food

Summary: You and Sara attend a Takada-Chan birthday celebration at a local café, where you run into two unsuspecting acquaintances.

Author’s Notes: Here’s chapter four, enjoy! Thanks for the support on this so far, I really appreciate it. Divider credit to @/saradika.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Todo hangs the signed Takada-Chan poster on the wall right next to his bed. He wants it to be the first thing he sees when he wakes up. There are, of course, many other Takada posters already displayed around his studio apartment, but this one is different. This one is special. It has his name and his future wife’s name on it.

“I still can’t believe you got to meet Takada-Chan today. That’s wild,” Yuji comments, biting into a slice of pizza. Tonight, the brothers are watching a collection of action movies and stuffing their faces with junk food.

Todo sits on the opposite side of the couch, staring up at the ceiling with a small grin on his face. “I knew this day would come. My patience all these years is finally paying off! I’m this much closer to being Mr. Aoi Takada.”

Yuji snorts. “Dude, you’re going to take her name? Really?”

“We don’t abide by conformist laws in this household. I will proudly take Takada-Chan’s name,” Todo declares, dramatically clutching his chest over his heart.

With his mouth full, Yuji muffles, “Isn’t it weird that you had to lie to get her attention though? I mean, she thinks you and that other fan are a couple.”

“It’s not weird. It’s strategic.”

His brother shrugs. “I guess. It’s pretty cool of that girl to go along with it. She must really be a huge fan if she’s willing to put up with you, even if it is just pretend. She even let you keep the poster.”

He still can’t wrap his head around what happened earlier in the day. He was already exhausted after the mission, but when he saw that long line, it put him in a worse mood. Who knew that his rival would be the one to come to his rescue? Well, her and Takada-Chan, of course. When he saw them standing in front of him together, he couldn’t help feeling elated. And after today’s experience, he starts to think that maybe him and his rival can start being cordial with each other. She is the mastermind behind this whole scheme. And she did give him the poster. The least he can do is be less of an asshole to her, right?

~~~

July 16th is a Saturday, though most importantly, it is Takada-Chan’s birthday. You find out your favorite café, Club Coffee, is hosting a Takada-Chan birthday celebration. They’ll have different types of treats and drinks that are Takada themed, as well as life-sized cardboard cut outs of the pop idol for photos.

When Saturday arrives, you and Sara get ready for the café event. Inspired by her outfit from the Meet and Greet, you decide to dress up for the occasion in an off-the-shoulder black blouse and plaid mini skirt. You accessorize with a red choker and black combat boots. Only Takada-Chan could pull off platform heels, so you don’t bother. Also, knowing yourself, you would definitely eat shit walking around in those. Not wanting to copy Takada’s look completely, you style your hair into two braids instead of pigtails. You twirl around for Sara, asking her, “What do you think?”

“Like you’re totally ready to seduce a teacher,” she teases.

“I wasn’t trying to go for a schoolgirl look!” you protest, self-conscious.

Sara grabs your shoulders and faces you towards the mirror. “No, it’s cute. Very cute, I promise you. Now let’s go before it gets too crowded.” You can always count on Sara to give you that confidence boost you need.

The two of you make your way to Club Coffee. There’s a huge banner over the storefront reading, “Happy Birthday Tall Idol Takada-Chan!” A life-sized cardboard cutout of the pop idol doing her signature pose is placed near the store window. Fans gather around the front, taking pictures with it. It’s not nearly as crowded as the previous events you’ve attended because multiple cafes and shops around the area are hosting their own celebrations. As soon as you walk inside, you hear the distinct beat of one of the pop idol’s songs blasting through the speakers, giving the establishment a night club vibe, which you love.

As you stand in line to order, you and Sara peruse the menu, both of you shimmying to the music as you decide what you want. There are a variety of dishes, savory and sweet, that are special for today. You order the Caprese Sandwich, one of Takada’s favorite meals, and the “Matcha Takada Latte”, which comes with latte art of the idol’s face. For dessert, you pick something called the “Taka-tan Beam Sweet Dream”, which is basically a slice of vanilla cloud cake with strawberries and cream. Sara goes for the “Love Gem�� cookies and a black coffee, both of you agreeing to share the sandwich. As you place your order with the barista, Sara finds a booth near the back of the café. You make your way towards her, stopping once to interact with another female fan complimenting your outfit.

“This is awesome!” you exclaim, sitting next to Sara, setting the buzzer on the surface. “Even if Takada-Chan isn’t physically here, I feel her presence all around me.”

“It’s probably because there are all these creepy cardboard cutouts of her. I feel like I’m in a weird Takada-Chan fever dream,” Sara shudders. “Also, the food and drinks we ordered might take a while, considering how busy it is.”

“That’s alright, I don’t mind waiting! Thanks for coming with me.” You sidle right next to her to give her a big hug.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get sappy with me. I’m only here because you agreed to pay for all the food.” She nudges you playfully.

As you wait for your order, the crowd grows larger. Most of the tables are now taken. The other booth across from you is still unoccupied. You and Sara chat while bopping along to the music, thankful you found an open spot when you did. A couple of minutes pass when Sara elbows you, pointing your attention to the entrance. “Look who’s here. It’s Todo and Yuji.”

Of all the cafés hosting Takada-Chan birthday celebrations, why did they have to pick this one? Are the pop idol gods punishing you for lying to Takada-Chan about your fake relationship? That’s definitely it. This is karma.

You groan into your hands as Sara laughs giddily. “We should invite them to our table! We have room.”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Sara. Can’t I have one moment of peace at one of these things?!”

“But he’s your boyfriend!”

“Shut up!” you hiss at your best friend, who continues to giggle, amused at your distress. “We’re all the way in the back, so they probably won’t see us.” You slouch into the seat, attempting to hide.

“But what if they can’t find a table?” she whines, shaking your arm.

“Good, then they’ll leave.”

“Oh, c’mon! I thought you and Todo played nice at the last event.”

“Yeah. I played nice. Then he told me we could never be friends.” The memory of that still stings as you recall it.

“He doesn’t know you yet, maybe he’s shy.”

You let out a loud “Ha!” and add, “I don’t think shy is in his vocabulary. Unless he’s around Takada-Chan. Then he becomes speechless, which is hilarious.” You cross your arms and slide further down the booth.

“They just ordered. Now they’re looking for a table.”

You grab hold of Sara’s sleeve and pull her towards you. “Sara, I swear to god, if you invite them to our table – “

“Yuji! Hey, Yuji!”

She did it. She really fucking did it.

~~~

Todo searches his surroundings to identify the source of the woman’s voice calling out for his brother. Yuji, who is next to him, turns and waves. “Hey! Sara!” He follows him towards the back of the café., approaching a table with two women already sitting on one side. He notices Sara immediately; it’s that girl’s friend that always breaks up whatever argument they’re having at Takada-Chan events. The other is slouched so much, her head is level to the table. She holds both hands up to cover her face.

“Hey ladies! You’re lucky you found a table. Can’t find a spot anywhere,” Yuji says.

Sara, with a grin, offers, “We have space at our table. Join us. It’ll be fun. Right? Won’t it be fun?” She directs her last statement to the girl next to her, trying to get her to come out of hiding.

When she finally reveals herself, Todo recognizes her immediately: his rival. “Ha, I should have known you’d be here. And here I thought today was going to be a good day.”

She sits up, arms crossed with an annoyed expression on her face. “Oh please, we were here first. You’re the one ruining my day.”

Sara shoves her friend lightly. “She’s just joking. Seriously, you two can sit with us. We’re still waiting for our food too.”

Yuji beams. “Thank you, Sara! Glad we ran into you.” He slides into the booth across from them. Todo grunts with disapproval but follows anyways. I guess this isn’t so bad, he thinks.

Sara and Yuji instantly start chatting to each other, like old friends catching up after a long time. Since when are these two so close? They’ve only met each other once. Todo glances at his rival across from him, who is now scrolling through her phone, making it a point to ignore him.

He clears his throat, attempting small talk. “So, what did you order?”

She looks up and gives a curt response. “Food.”

Todo rolls his eyes. “Yeah, obviously. I mean which special item did you order?”

“Why do you want to know?” she throws back at him.

“I’m just trying to make conversation.” His patience wears thin and he almost regrets even trying. She’s extra venomous today. His last words to her from the meet and greet must have struck a chord. I don’t think we’ll ever be friends. He didn’t mean for it to sound so unkind. Todo doesn’t have very many friends, let alone female friends. All the girls at his high school despised him. And since he’s loyal to Takada-Chan, he has no interest in having any type of relations with other women. But this girl did him a huge solid, especially at the last event. He can’t forget that. This might be a good time to right his wrongs. “Listen, I’m sorry for being such an asshole to you. I get very defensive about Takada-Chan. Still, that’s no excuse.” Her expression relaxes as she sets her phone aside, listening in silence.

He continues. “Let’s call it a truce. Maybe we can both be Takada-Chan’s #1 fan,” he holds his hand out to shake on it, knowing deep down he’s the biggest fan. But for the sake of peace, he’ll keep that to himself.

She eyes him carefully, contemplating. Finally, she reaches over and grips his hand firmly. “Okay, truce.” She flashes him a genuine smile.

There’s a strange tightness in his chest upon seeing this. Weird. He clears his throat again and asks once more, “So, which special dish did you choose?”

They chat about the food and drinks they ordered. They both got the Matcha Takada Latte. Apparently, she loves matcha while Todo admits to ordering it only because it has Takada-Chan’s face on it. She asks him if he really knew Takada in middle school, to which Yuji interrupts to debunk this very true theory. Sara joins in their conversation, mentioning how the “brothers” look nothing alike, with Yuji again exposing the fact that they are not blood related. The girls laugh as he recounts the story of how him and Todo first met, skillfully leaving out the details about Jujutsu sorcery and the Goodwill event. Yuji mentions Todo’s infamous catchphrase: What kind of girls do you like?

He cuts off Yuji’s story to ask, “Wait, since we’re all here, what kind of girls do you like?”

Sara snorts. “I’m not answering that question.”

“C’mon! It’s just for fun. Todo asks this to everyone.”

Sara elbows her friend. “We all know what kind of girl she likes. She adores Takada-Chan.”

His rival (maybe he should start acknowledging her as an acquaintance now) giggles, explaining, “She’s just so talented and confident! How can you not admire that?” Yawn. Boring. Todo should have expected this.

“Also, she has a nice butt,” she adds, smirking shyly. Now this gets his attention.

Yuji whoops. “Ha! You’re just like us! High five!”

They slap hands, then she clarifies, “It’s just nice to see an idol with a more voluptuous body type. Something I can relate to. Makes me more confident, I guess. It’s dumb.”

Sara wraps her arm around her friend. “It’s not dumb. Takada-Chan has a nice badonkadonk and so do you. All asses come in different shapes and sizes and they’re all great!”

Todo watches her curiously. To say he is surprised would be an understatement. He’s already admitted to himself that she has a nice butt. To hear her talk about it out loud is fascinating. And anyone who appreciates Takada-Chan’s butt has his respect.

Suddenly, one of the buzzers vibrates. “Oh! Our food is finally ready.” When she shimmies out of the booth to stand up, Todo’s mouth parts open, fixated on her mini skirt. His gaze follows her as she walks away towards the front counter, the hem grazing against the back of her plush thighs. She looks good. Like, really good. Why is this the first time he’s noticing this about her?

“Hey!” There’s a hard slap on his shoulder. He turns to find Yuji and Sara staring at him, her arm stretched across the table, the source of the smack. “What do you think you’re doing?” Sara demands, glaring.

Todo smirks. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

Her eyes widen, nostrils flare. Yuji puts his head in his hands, shaking it in disapproval. “Dude…”

“You fucking pervert!” Sara yells, both hands reaching towards him as Yuji holds her back.

“Sara! He didn’t mean it! Right, Todo?! You were just joking!” He’s desperately trying to contain her.

Todo waves it all off, unfazed. “Yeah, I’m just joking around, no need to get all protective of your friend.” He focuses his attention back to her making her back to their table, a tray of food in hands, that skirt swaying dangerously on her hips. Damn, she’s really wearing the hell outta that thing, Todo muses. It’s a similar outfit to what Takada-Chan wore at the Meet and Greet, except it’s different. She’s made it her own.

Damn, he thinks again, watching her slide into the booth, more alluring than ever. He notices how her tantalizing shoulders are exposed in the skimpy blouse she wears, the way it hugs the curves of her breasts. How soft her lips are as she smiles at the food in front of her, excited to stuff it all in her pretty little mouth. He lingers on the tight red choker around her neck, teasing him, making him imagine all kinds of interesting and naughty thoughts…

Shit. Maybe he really is a fucking pervert.

~~~

When you pick up your order from the counter, you are amazed at the “Matcha Takada Latte” art. You rave to the barista at what an amazing job she did. In the background, even amongst the music blasting, you hear Sara’s voice yelling, but you can’t make out exactly what she’s saying. Back at the table, you slide the tray of food towards Sara, who is scowling at Todo with her arms crossed. You ask nervously, “Is everything okay?”

Everyone is silent for a moment, then Yuji speaks. “Todo passed gas, that’s why Sara is pissed.”

Todo’s head whips towards Yuji. “What?! Brother, why would you say that?!”

Sara’s expression softens, glancing at you with a small smile. “Thanks for getting the food. Let’s eat.” As the two brothers argue, you and Sara split the Caprese sandwich, chowing down. Sara remains unusually quiet until the other buzzer rings, both Todo and Yuji leaving to retrieve their order.

Sara stops eating, her voice hushed as she leans into your ear. “Hey, just so you know, Todo is totally checking you out.”

You almost choke on the last bite of your sandwich, sputtering a confused, “What?!”

“He was staring at your ass while you were at the front counter. Fucking creep.”

“You’re the one that is encouraging this! You invited them to our table! You said I should have hot angry hate sex with him!”

“I know, but that was before I knew he was a fucking pervert!”

You panic. How do you even respond to this news? Should you be creeped out? In a normal situation, this would be incredibly inappropriate, right? But why is a small part of you flattered? This big hunk is checking you out. It makes you feel good. It makes you confident.

But you can’t forget what he told you after the meet and greet: I don’t think we’ll ever be friends.

You tried to be nice. You were nice. If it weren’t for you, he would have never gotten that close to his beloved Takada-Chan. Even after all you did, he still said what he said. You both agreed to make peace today, but that doesn’t mean you are friends. It doesn’t erase the stress he’s caused you ever since you first ran into him at that mall concert. Maybe this is time for a little bit of payback. And with this recent revelation from Sara, you have new ammo to fire at him.

“Hey, what are you thinking right now?” Sara asks, worry in her tone.

You give her a mischievous smile. “I think I’m going to have some fun with this.”

Is it petty? Yes. Do you care? Absolutely not.

This is going to be fun.

~~~

When Todo and Yuji return with their food, the two women are now sitting across from each other, one in each booth.

“Come sit next to me, Todo.” She pats the seat next to her.

Todo’s brows are knit in confusion, sliding next to his rival. Their knees touch as they sit side by side. Did the booth get smaller? Why does it seem like there is way less room?

Sara and Yuji talk among themselves. Todo stares down at his food, oddly nervous being so close to her. What is she up to? He uses all his willpower to not ogle at her skirt, which is now riding up her thighs.

“Sorry for switching seats. I just wanted to sit next to you so we can talk.” She studies him with her elbow propped on the table, head tilted, resting on her palm. Todo quickly glances at her. God, she’s cute like this. “What do you want to talk about?” he asks, taking a bite out of this steak sandwich.

From his peripheral, he sees a playful smile spread across her face. “What do you think of my outfit?”

It takes all his strength not to spit out the food in his mouth. He did not expect her to ask him that. “It’s…fine,” he mutters.

“Just ‘fine’?”

He growls, “Yeah, what else do you want me to say?”

She leans in closer, breath on his ear. It sends shivers down his spine. “I heard you were checking me out.” He has to maintain his composure. He can’t let this chick make him lose his cool. There’s no other woman out there that can do that expect Takada-Chan.

Very calmy, he replies, “Yeah, and so what if I was?” She seems taken aback by his bluntness. He continues. “I know what you’re doing. You’re wearing the same thing Takada-Chan was wearing at the meet and greet. Sorry, but you’ll never be her. Quit trying so hard.” Harsh. So much for a truce. Turns out it’s not so easy for him to turn off the assholery. No wonder all the girls at Kyoto High hated him.

“Aren’t you just a little bit embarrassed that you got caught being a pervert?”

He faces her fully now, challenging her. “I’m an ass man, what do you expect? You strut around with a mini skirt like that, of course I’m going to check you out.”

She doesn’t back down. “Have you no shame, Todo? Fucking hell, she’s really trying to push his buttons today.

“Shame? You wanna talk about having no shame, you wannabe?” Without thinking, he reaches out, tugging gently on one of her braided pigtails. “What are these supposed to be, her pigtails? Try again.”

Her hand is suddenly on his thigh. “You can pull on my hair a little harder if you like. I bet you’re into that.”

Fuck. What is she trying to do to him? Whatever it is, two can play at that game. He says in a low voice, “Yeah, maybe I do like it a little rough. I can show you sometime.”

Her eyes widen and she clenches against the fabric of his pants a little tighter, gulping loudly.

Ha. Got her.

~~~

Too far. This has gotten too far.

You only wanted to embarrass him, make him blush a bit, make him admit he’s a creep. You were just trying to get a rise out of him, but you didn’t think he would respond like that.

How can you let this neanderthal get you all hot and bothered? You can’t shake the thought of Todo manhandling you. Your mind conjures all sorts of scenarios, and your body can’t help but react. At the same time, the logical side of your mind, which apparently has shrunken ever since meeting this man, is screaming at you. Where is your self-control, woman?! He has no intention of being anything more than a nuisance to you. He’s only saying these things because you started it! He’s not backing down. He’s trying to outlast you. He’s trying to win. You must fight fire with fire. There’s no backing down. You started this mess; you have to finish it. Whatever fucked up game you two are playing with each other, you must come out on top. “How about today? I’ll keep the skirt on while you show me how rough you like it.”

Checkmate.

He looks at you, his expression not faltering, anticipating what he’ll say next. Finally, he chuckles and goes back to his sandwich. After a bite, he relents. “Fine, you win. I surrender.”

You’re not proud of it. Who would be? You’ve thrown all your dignity out the window. But who needs pride and dignity when you have victory?!

At last, you relax against the booth, satisfied. Thankfully, Sara and Yuji are too engulfed in their own conversation to have noticed what just occurred in front of them. For the rest of the meal, you and Todo don’t exchange another word with each other.

Everyone finishes and agrees to leave the table for others to take. You walk around the café, taking pictures with the Takada-Chan cardboard cutouts. Todo’s gaze on you as you pose for pictures, expression unreadable. It makes you flustered, for some reason.

When it’s time to go, you head outside. Sara and Yuji hug goodbye, while you stand awkwardly next to Todo, unsure how you should part ways with him. You made peace, then exchanged highly suggestive comments to each other in a strange battle for dominance. Where does this leave you two? There’s this weird tension between you, different than before. It’s not necessarily hostile, but it’s heavy.

“Ready to go?” Yuji asks, motioning to his muscular friend.

“Yeah. Bye Sara, thanks for letting us sit at your table.”

Sara smiles. “Yeah, thanks for hanging out. It was fun.”

He faces you, sticking his hand out. “I guess I’ll see you around.” A handshake? That’s odd.

“Sure. Bye.” Not wanting to leave him hanging, you take it.

Suddenly, he pulls you forward and leans down close enough that his mouth is to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin as he whispers softly. “I guess we’ll have to reschedule.”

He lets go, stepping alongside his brother towards the station, leaving you speechless.

Fuck.

#aoi todo #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo smut #aoi todo x you #todo aoi x reader #todo aoi smut #todo aoi x you #todo aoi #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk todo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #idol fan wars #aoi toudou #jjk fanfic

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ifearzombies · 1 year

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The Little ‘I Love You’s

Lucifer:

- Wakes you up early so you can have quiet moments alone with tea or coffee and food that Beel won’t have a chance to steal. - Brings you little things back from the human world when he goes. While he knows you want to stay where you are, he knows humans miss ‘home’ too. - Steals a smooch when no one else is looking.

Mammon:

- Steals from you less than anyone else. He can’t help his nature, but he avoids your room for items to steal as much as he can - On days you’re feeling down, he will interject and tell you that you’re doing something. He never tells you why, but it’s clearly to distract you. - Nights when you have nightmares he is always the one that hears you and comes to cuddle you and hold you. You don’t know how he always knows, but you’re glad all the same.

Leviathan:

- He’ll wait for you for the latest episode of whatever “has too long a title” anime he’s been passionate about. Fantasy is an experience, and it should be shared. - He makes you outfits you see in the shows you say you like. They’re made just for you- your size and shape despite him not having ever measured you. - His snack and ramen rations now include some of your favorites so that the next time Beel destroys the kitchen, you can come to him.

Satan: - He cleans his room on the nights you want to spend in his bed. Well. He makes a path and clears off the bed- but you can at least walk through the room and use the bed with him. - He has a shelf with just books he thinks you’ll like based on what you’ve told him. A mini library in his room for your quiet night time moments where you cuddle and read. - Like Lucifer he steals smooches when no one is looking. You will never tell him of this shared habit of theirs. Asmodeus: - He paints your nails and brushes your hair while he tells you how beautiful you are inside and out. He’s more complimentary when you’ve had a bad day - You are allowed to use his bath, even if you do not want him to join you. - He tucks a flower in your hair every chance he gets. Beelzebub: - He saved you a snack from his snack bag. He heard you mention you were craving it and wants to share it with you. - He carries you every chance he gets and uses that as an excuse to give you affectionate nuzzles. - He lets you climb him like a tree to sit on his shoulders to reach stuff and holds you steady. Belphegor: - He will go to demon form just to wrap his tail around you while you cuddle. - Invite you to the attic for what he and Beel call ‘Sandwich Cuddles’ and when you do, you get to use his favorite pillow - He makes it a point to drink stuff with high amounts of caffeine when you have plans to stay awake just for you. -------------------------------------------------------- MC: - On days Lucifer runs himself ragged and it’s his turn to cook, you message the household and say you feel like cooking. Lucifer knows why you do it and says a secret thank you once the meal is over. - You know Mammon can’t help but steal. You have a place in your room that you know Mammon looks through. You put some money in there whenever you see it empty. Mammon knows you do this and never steals from anywhere else in the room. - You show up for your anime-fest with pizza and drinks and bring your futon mattress so you can cuddle on it while you enjoy the fantasy anime together. - You bring a new mystery book with you every time you spend the night with Satan. You haven’t clued him in that Cat Mystery is a genre of mystery novels yet, but with each one you bring, he’s started to catch on. He’s eager for the next one. - You treat Asmo to a spa day and get facials and massages with him. You tell him that maintaining his beauty is a lot of work and he’s SO GLAD someone finally sees that!

- Beel is an easy man to please. The way to his heart is quite literally his stomach. It takes days of planning, but Beel always loves when you do a feast day and spend an entire day cooking to make enough food to make him full. He’s cried literal tears of happiness over it. It can only be done once a month, but the absolute pure joy in his eyes is worth it.

- You hold Belphie and tell him. He struggles so much with thinking you could never forgive him for literally killing you. But you hold him and tell him you love him. You run a hand through his hair and tell him you forgive him. And when he says he doesn’t deserve it, you remind him that forgiveness is a gift. And you gave it to him a long time ago.

#obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me levi #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphagor #obey me shall we date

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erooca · 1 year

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daycare pt. 2

ellie williams x reader

description: ellie williams is forced to work at a daycare. in part two, she gets more comfortable with her new job and with you. 2.5k words

omg im so happy a lot of people liked the first one!!! i hope u guys like this one too. i love writing ab ellie and am open to any suggestions you may have!!

part one: https://www.tumblr.com/erooca/724971592933834752/daycare

ever since you met ellie, you started seeing her more around your campus. every once in a while, y’all would go study together or maybe grab a coffee, but she’s never invited you back to her dorm before, at least not until right now.

like the gentleman she is, she held the door open and you walked in, instantly getting hit with the scent of ellie. specifically a nice, light scent of tobacco vanilla, which felt very on point for the freckled girl.

her dorm was small, smaller than yours since she had one to herself, while you shared with roommates. all that was in here was a bed, a desk, a mini fridge, storage, and a door leading to a bathroom.

her back wall was filled with little sketches everywhere. you knew she liked to draw, but you had no idea it meant this much to her. you took in all the drawings, examining them one by one. you see sketches of horses, dinosaurs (no surprise there), sunsets and just a lot of landscapes in general, and you see a few of an older looking man. you assume it’s her father.

ellie is watching you nervously as you examine all her drawings. she was scared as shit that you were finally in her dorm, but she also had a tingling feeling in her heart because you were surrounded completely by her and only her at the moment. she could get used to this.

it had been two weeks since her first day at the daycare. for two whole weeks, her thoughts have been plagued by you. she was loving it. she loved spending a full eight hour shift with you. just to see you, she would even come in five or ten minutes early.

she wasn’t very secretive about her crush on you. she did a lot of things for you. if you went on break earlier than her, she’d pick you up something to eat and would forbid you from paying her back. she would also buy things you had mentioned you needed for the classroom. one time, she even brought you a candy bar since she noticed you weren’t as energetic as your usual self.

even after all these gracious gifts, you were oblivious. it drove ellie insane. she really didn’t want to have to confess it out loud to you. she was really hoping you’d just take the hint and ask her out yourself. ellie has a bit of a hard time with rejection and she can’t imagine pouring out her feelings to you just for you to tell her you didn’t feel the same about her.

“hey.. is this one of king’s drawings?” you said, pointing at a colorful and bright picture. it had two stick figures with a hell of a lot of scribbles.

“oh yeah, he said he drew it for me,” ellie smiled, reliving the memory. king had told her it was a drawing of her and him hanging out together. ellie asked if she could keep the drawing and of course king said yes.

“that’s so sweet,” you smiled brightly. you were so happy ellie already made a strong connection with one of the students. the best part about working with kids is seeing the way you influence them and make them better humans.

ellie nodded.

“so, did ya’ wanna order pizza and watch a movie?” ellie asked.

“that sounds like a perfect way to relax after a week of working.”

you guys settle onto ellie’s bed (since there’s no couch) watching a random movie on netflix waiting for the pizza.

it was a really good night. you wish you could spend every night like this.

the next monday, you were eagerly waiting for ellie to enter the classroom door. you were so excited to see her. you guys had such a great time on saturday, and you couldn’t wait to be in ellie’s presence again.

when the door opened, all the children screamed out ellie’s name, getting up to go give her a hug.

“ellie!! guess what my mom did this weekend!!” a blonde girl named charlie asked.

“i went to the park yesterday ellie!!” pippa told her.

“hey! hey! ellie!” another kid called for attention.

ellie laughed and listened to each of the kids one by one. it warmed your heart so much seeing your students gathered around ellie, telling her stories and giving her hugs. you felt like you could burst from the warmth that spread throughout your body.

when she was finished, she got up and locked eyes with you. she greeted you and that was when you noticed two starbucks cups in her hands. she sheepishly handed one of them out to you.

“ellie, you shouldn’t have done this,” you said, taking the cup from her even though it contradicted your words.

“gotta get a coffee for my favorite coworker,” her lips rose into a half smile.

you brought the drink up to your lips and sipped. you’ve had starbucks countless times, but this one tasted different. it tasted amazing and you know it’s because it was ellie who bought it for her. you thanked her.

the day continued on as usual. while you were outside, you watched as the kids ganged up on ellie to chase her and take her to “jail”. you watched her run, taking the game a little too seriously. it made you think how she’d probably survive a zombie apocalypse, if it ever happened.

she easily got cornered and king tugged her hand, leading her to the fence. some of the other kids did a locking motion, acting as though ellie was chained to the fence.

“don’t get out!!!” one of the boys, william, said.

you made your way over, innocently.

“how’s jail?” you ask.

“oh, ha ha,” she said sarcastically, then her eyes lit up, as if she had a great idea, “hey.. unlock me!” she said, glancing at her hands.

“you do realize you aren’t actually locked in, right?” you ask, laughing.

ellie scoffs. you follow through with her request anyway, motioning an unlocking gesture. then ellie bolted.

“HEY! they let ellie out! get both of them!” one of the kids yelled.

now both of you were running for your lives from a big group of three year olds.

once you guys came inside, you had lunch, and then nap time. when the kids woke up, you opted to do floor toys and just keep them all on the colorful alphabet rug.

you sat with the children, watching them build with the duplo legos. they were each having you look at what they made. you praised them each time, suggesting they add a different colored block or make it taller. soon, you felt a bit tired so you laid down onto the carpet.

this turned out to be a bad idea when half of your students rolled on top of you, leaving you no room to even move. all you could hear was the sounds of your three year olds giggling, as they tortured you.

you called out for help from ellie but was met with the response of laughter coming from her.

wow. your own friend. you thought up your revenge plan quickly, “everyone!!!” you shouted, catching their attentions, “go give ellie a kiss!!”

“what? no- no,” but it was too late. the kids ran up to her, giving her kisses on her arms and hands. a few even gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“payback,” you smirk at her, watching as she’s trying to control the kids now.

“oh you’re evil,” she responds, playfully narrowing her eyes at you.

the rest of the day went by fast, but this time ellie wasn’t leaving when you got down to less kids. maria had asked that you go through all the cleaning duties with her that are required for closing. you agreed, obviously excited to spend even more with her. you decided to wait until all the children were gone to start teaching it. it would allow you to give ellie your full focus.

all the kids were called to leave one by one and soon it was 6:00 and all the kids had went home. it was just ellie and you in the room. you could already feel the intense butterflies moving through you. god, your crush had gotten bad.

ignoring the feeling in your stomach that was so extreme it almost hurt, you showed ellie the closet.

“so we keep the vacuum and broom in here, and all of the cleaning chemicals. there’s bleach water, soapy water, floor spray, and a bathroom cleaner,” you explain to ellie.

you went inside to pull out the vacuum but with a mighty tug, the vacuum wouldn’t come loose. it was stuck in between the children’s mats. you said a naughty word but kept trying.

“here, let me help,” ellie said from outside the closet, stepping inside.

“wait! don’t let the door—“

click

“shut..”

“oh fuck. did i just lock us in here?” ellie asked, wide eyed as soon as she heard the click of the lock.

“uhh.. yeah. you did. it’s alright, i’m sure someone will find us soon,” you said, hopeful.

the closet wasn’t super tight, but it definitely wasn’t spacious. you were a little too close to ellie for comfort. you could already feel your heart racing. someone better find you guys soon, or you might have a heart attack.

“i’m gonna see if maybe i can like.. jam the door open,” you said, trying to switch spots with ellie so you were closer to the door. you couldn’t ignore the way your skin touched hers in an effort to get across.

you started wiggling the handle with all your might, trying to move it up, down, and side to side. it wasn’t budging.

“try moving it like this,” ellie had found her way right behind you. she rested her hand on the door handle where yours was. your pinkies overlapped and ellie started jiggling the handle too.

you looked to your side and noticed she had her other hand resting on the door, for support, to the right of your head. she was basically leaning over you, trapping you within her arms.

“yeah we’re not getting out of this any time soon,” ellie states, letting her hand rest on the door knob.

you finally turned around to face her and it both hit you how close you both had gotten. your back was against the door and she was right in front of you, only maybe a foot away.

ellie felt a dust of pink wash over her cheeks as she realized how close she was to you. she hadn’t meant to position you like this, but she wasn’t complaining.

ellie was keeping her eyes locked with yours and neither of you guys made an attempt to move. you could hear as her breath was moving more rigid.

it was becoming too much for you, and you glanced down, forcing your head to look at the ground. you tried to relax your heart that seemed as though it was clawing out of your chest.

a soft hand rose to the bottom of your chin, and pulled it upwards, forcing you to look back at ellie.

“don’t.” ellie whispered, not taking her eyes off of you.

you don’t think you’ve ever desired someone as much as you desired ellie right now. you were so close to grabbing her face, giving her as many kisses as she deserved, but instead you stood still, frozen under ellie’s dominant position.

ellie took the hand from your chin and moved it to gently tuck a wisp of hair behind your ear, “wanna see your pretty face…” she let her hand rest on her cheek.

your whole face turned a blushy color at her words. how was this girl you met only a few weeks ago making you sink into a puddle?

“ellie..” you breathed out, scanning her face, trying to decipher any thought she might have. from up this close, you could see how irregular her pattern of freckles were. how they were different shades of the same color. you could count them all from this position, and you happily would.

“can i please kiss you?” ellie asked, in almost a puppy dog voice.

you didn’t trust yourself with your voice right now (hell, you’d probably accidentally propose to her), so you gave a sweet nod.

she took a step closer to you, bodies mere inches from colliding, she watched your eyes and glanced to your lips.

“are you sure?” she asked, wanting to confirm that this is genuinely what you wanted. her eyes went back up to yours and she searched them.

instead of answering, you moved forward closing the gap. your soft lips met with her chapped ones. ellie made a noise of surprise at your sudden movement, but easily got comfortable, kissing you back.

she pulled back after a moment, but stayed close to your face.

“holy fuck,” she breathed out, trying to regain any sense of herself she had previously.

before you had a chance to say anything, she reconnected her lips with yours. she placed her hands on your hips, pulling you in closer. you crossed your hands around her neck. you don’t ever think you’ve felt this kind of rush before. all you knew was that you wanted ellie closer. you wanted to be surrounded by her completely. now that you’ve kissed her once, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to stop kissing her.

she slowly started kissing along your jawline, and then trailing her lips down your neck. you giggling at the sensation from the way it tickled your skin.

ellie liked the way your throat felt under her mouth. she continued to leave soft kisses all on you. you could feel your hunger for her grow stronger and stronger.

just then the door swung open, leaving you to fall on the ground, and ellie tumbling over you. you both groaned in pain.

maria stood in front of you two’s lying bodies. she cleared her throat awkwardly. it was obvious she saw what you guys were doing before you fell.

“i’m not gonna talk about what i just saw, but how many times have i told you not to let that door shut??” maria said, only acting angry to wash away the awkward feeling of walking in on her (basically) niece making out with one of her best workers.

“it was my fault, maria. i let the door close,” ellie said, taking the blame. she stood up from the ground, and then held out a hand to you. you gladly took it and she pulled you up.

maria sighed in frustration, “don’t let it happen again, and get this room clean. we lock up in 15 minutes.”

as soon as she leaves the room, you erupt in giggles, thinking of how shocked maria’s face was. ellie joined your laughter, just now realizing how silly the situation had become.

knowing there wasn’t any time left to dilly-dally, you two sped cleaned the room.

you hoped the next couple days would be full of more closet kisses, more of those loving looks ellie had given you today, or even wishful touches throughout the hours.

unknown to your knowledge, ellie was planning on giving you every single one of those for the rest of her life.

#ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x reader #ellie x you #the last of us #tlou x reader #tlou2 ellie #ellie the last of us #tlou fic #tlou part 2 #tlou fanfiction #ellie tlou #tlou 2 ellie #ellie x fem reader

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madaqueue · 6 months

Text

playlists

such a pretty house | "no surprises" x radiohead

synopsis: walking through the empty halls of what should have been your home, you reminisce on the life you could have had with gojo

pairing: satoru gojo x reader

themes/content: semi-canon curse au. angst. language. mentions of death/loss.

word count: 2.5k

a/n: thought of this mini series idea since i found this song and literally could not stop thinking about a tragic backstory to it with gojo, so if you wanna get the "real" experience listen to it while you read ! this is like...not conventionally happy lmao but here it is anyways :) i'll get back to the regularly scheduled series tomorrow but i just had to write this one

a sigh leaves your lips as you walk up the familiar stone path, now overgrown with long grasses, tickling against your bare ankles. the cool autumn air bites at your skin, dead leaves falling from the old maple trees and crunching under your shoes as you make your way up to the house.

this house.

reaching the front door, you turn the now-tarnished gold handle and step inside. the old wooden floorboards creak under your weight; it’s likely been years since anyone has been here, further evidenced by the thin layer of dust settled over the empty space.

the space that was supposed to be your home.

your eyes gaze to the right and your legs follow, taking you into the living room. the bay windows overlook the front yard, the wooden bench beneath them bare. it was supposed to have red pillows, a reading nook for you. he always knew how you loved those books, consuming knowledge like it was the only type of nourishment you needed. the stories, the worlds that let you forget time while he was away on missions. but now, every word you read feels baren. you haven’t picked up a book since then.

continuing your journey through the empty house, you find yourself in the kitchen. the cabinet doors are now falling off, and surely the stove wouldn’t turn on anymore - not that it really worked in the first place, but the two of you made do. you’d bring in pizza on nights when the shitty electricity died out, sitting on the floor lit only by candles, talking about your futures.

well, what was supposed to be your future.

the window above the sink looks over the backyard, the remnants of the flowers you planted now overgrown with weeds. what a pretty garden it could have been.

“can you plant me the blue ones?” he asked, his arms wrapped around you as you stood outside under the heat of the summer sun.

“you only like those because they match your eyes,” you tease, turning your head to face him.

“maybe so,” he grins. “how ‘bout this, let’s find ones that match your eyes too, so it’s like i’m lookin’ at you every time i see ‘em?”

“deal,” you giggle, leaning against him.

you find yourself at the stairs, slowly making your way up as your hand traces along the railing, dust collecting on your fingertips.

you aren’t even sure why you came here, after all this time, back to this house, the physical tomb of your past.

it was supposed to be for you and satoru.

–

you were just kids, stupid, young kids. when you met in your first year at jujutsu high, the two of you were inseparable. every class, every meal, every mission you did together. it got to the point where you practically lived together, trading off which dorm room you slept in so you wouldn’t have to be apart. the two of you were attached by an invisible thread that kept looping itself around your necks until it became too tight.

the mission was supposed to be easy: exorcise a grade 2 curse and save the family it had kidnapped. you’d done it before a hundred times, and having gojo by your side only simplified the whole thing.

that is, until you got hurt. until you were unconscious, at the brink of death. until you found out why they had sent gojo with you - you didn’t think much of it at the time, but this was the lowest grade curse he’d been assigned to for a while.

it was a test. the higher ups wanted to see what gojo would do when he lost someone. they needed him to prove that he was what they thought he was: the strongest.

except, like always, he never failed to surprise everyone. he wouldn’t let you go that easily; not you, his world, his love, his everything. they picked the wrong person to sacrifice.

by the time you awoke, it was too late. you couldn’t quite place it, but something was different inside you, inside your very essence. as your eyes fluttered open, all you could feel was the warmth of his embrace around you, his hair hanging forward as he clutched your body. hot tears streamed down his face and landed on your chest.

“i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry,” he muttered over and over, softly rocking on his knees as he holds you.

“s-satoru,” you manage to croak out, the taste of blood in your mouth.

his eyes shift up to yours, a darkness and fear in them you’ve never seen before.

“it’s okay, it’s okay now, i’m here,” he whispers, his voice shaking, pulling you into him.

–

reaching the top of the stairs, the empty hallway looms before you. you turn into the first room on your right, what should’ve been the library. empty shelves line the walls as you stand in the middle of the space.

“y’know,” his voice smooth as he sits across from you, “eventually i’m gonna get promoted, and i’m gonna need a big office.”

“oh yeah?” you respond, shifting so your head rests on your open palm, propped up against the table between you. “what makes you so confident about that? you know the higher ups literally hate you, right?”

“psh, they love me,” he pauses, reaching across the table to shut the book in front of you so your full attention was on him. “and then, i’m gonna fix up this house, and i’ll build you a library and an office for me, and we can spend every day in there together.”

you pretend to consider the option for a moment. “fine, but it’s still gonna be my library. i’ll let you put a desk in there but don’t you dare forget that it’s mine,” you joke.

his hand reaches up to the side of your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. “as long as i’m with you, sweetheart, it can all be yours.”

you sigh, leaning against the wall before sliding down to sit against the old wood beneath you. he would’ve given you everything, he would’ve done anything for you.

–

it didn’t take long after the mission to figure out what had really happened: the grade 2 curse was actually a special grade, something you were woefully underprepared for. however, the higher ups had planned for that, even wanted it - they needed you to die. not because of any inherent value you had, no, but for satoru. they needed to see if he could handle a special grade curse on his own, something he had already proven he could do, but with a new challenge: loss. could he control himself, his emotions, his power, when he was forced to confront your death?

no. he couldn’t.

the only good thing about this being a special grade curse is that it was smarter, more cunning, than an average curse. not smart enough to beat gojo, but still.

when satoru saw you, your body slumped in the corner of the room, blood covering your face, something happened inside him. he snapped.

so, he did what any completely irrational person would do: he made a deal with the curse.

if it would heal you, it could have your cursed powers. this sounded like an exceptional deal to the curse, thinking that surely with your cursed technique it could easily kill gojo and leave the ordeal more powerful than when it began.

but, like always, gojo surprised everyone. even with your cursed energy he managed to exorcise the monster. he was glad you weren’t there to see it, the way his body took over as he pulled it apart limb by limb, eviscerating any remnants of the thing that dared to harm you. he didn’t even use his cursed technique, he needed to feel the life draining from it in his own hands.

when it was done, he ran to you. he held you. he cried over you. until you opened your eyes, whispering his name.

–

stepping out of the library, you continue down the hall and into the next room. the bedroom, the one you and satoru spent weeks planning.

“okay, what about purple?” you ask, holding up paint swatches to the wall.

“bleh,” he stuck out his tongue. “no purple. what about a nice green?”

you rolled your eyes at his theatrics. “honey, we have too much green already. by the time you’re done with it this entire house is gonna be green.”

his eyes light up. “what about honey?”

“what about it?” you ask, tilting your head.

“that’s it, that’s the color! it’ll be perfect, it’s warm, and sunny, and it’ll make me think of you whenever i’m in here,” he explains, nearly running over to you and picking you up, spinning you around. your arms wrap around his neck as he holds you in the air, both of you smiling with joy.

as you look at the room around you, the unfinished grey walls feel more empty than any other part of the house. it’s like looking at a skeleton, the raw, old bones of something you once loved.

–

of course, after you lost your cursed technique, you weren’t allowed to continue at jujutsu high. they had no purpose for you there, and you felt out of place with everyone anyways. gojo begged them to let you stay, offering to let you live in his dorm so they wouldn’t even need an extra room for you, but his request was repeatedly and ubiquitously denied.

“fine,” he huffs, pacing around your room as you sit on the bed, all of your belongings stuffed into boxes around you. “if they won’t let you stay, then i’m going with you.”

“gojo, you can’t. you know you can’t,” you explain calmly yet sternly.

he stops momentarily, looking over at you. “i have to,” he murmurs, “this is my fault, anyways.”

you stand up and walk towards him, reaching a hand up to his face, cupping his cheek in your palm. “the only thing that’s your ‘fault’ is the fact that i’m still here, and you better not be blaming yourself for that.”

“but-”

your lips press into his, the only way you could think of to get him to stop talking. he’s soft against you, his arms lowering to loosely hang around your waist. for a moment, you stay like that, just the two of you in your empty room.

pulling apart for a moment, you just stare at each other. finally, he breaks the silence. “okay, but if you won’t let me officially leave with you, can i at least sort of leave with you?”

“gojo, what the hell does that mean?” you smirk, not understanding what he’s even asking.

a smile breaks through his lips as he looks down at you. “i have something i want to show you.”

the house.

he holds your hand, pulling you up the stone pathway next to him, leading you to the freshly-painted front door, gold handle practically glowing in the sunlight.

“ta-da!” he shouts, throwing the door open and allowing you to see inside.

“it…it’s an empty house?” you ask jokingly.

“no,” he turns to you, holding your waist, “it’s our empty house.”

“what-”

“i got it for us,” he cuts you off, beaming down at you. “when i first heard that you might be asked to leave jujutsu high, i bought it, thinking we could move in here together.” you don’t say anything, stunned by his kindness, tears beginning to form along your waterline as you think about just how much you love him. “i wanted to give you a home. i hope we can make it one, together.”

leaning up, you kiss him again. finally, together, in your home.

–

why did you even come here? the cold, stale air stirs around your lungs as you rest your head back against the wall.

despite everything that happened, you had to see it one last time. you overheard someone at the store saying how they were finally going to be tearing this place down, putting in some new luxury apartments or something. it’s not like anyone lived here anyways, maybe it’s for the best. give the grave of your past a new life.

it had been nearly ten years since you were here last. a part of you wanted to move on, to forget it, but it hung in your mind like it had been nailed there.

you finally stand up, dusting off the grime that clung to your clothes from the floor. every step another memory you had here, another painful reminder of the life you never got to have.

–

it started slowly, at first. gojo kept getting tasked with harder missions, and he kept handling them with ease. even the higher ups were at a loss with what to do with him, his raw power developing into something they had never seen and had no idea how to control.

as you sat in the empty house, alone, you tried to not let it get to you, but the feeling ate away at you all the same. the glares you’d get when the two of you went out together, the whispers from other classmates or the higher ups, they clung to you.

you knew you were less than gojo - you always were, and it never bothered you. but now, with no cursed energy, you felt like nothing compared to him.

the words replayed in your mind, reminding you what you were.

failure. broken. fragile. useless. a burden. a hindrance. a flaw. a weakness.

of course, satoru never said any of these things, going out of his way to make sure you never heard the insults his so-called colleagues muttered about you, but it wasn’t enough. it ate and ate and ate away at you until you were empty.

when you left, his world collapsed. he begged you to stay, pleaded to let him come with you. he’d leave jujutsu, all the sorcery, all the hierarchy, all the bullshit behind if it meant he could be with you. but you knew he couldn’t; if he left with you, you’d just be proving them right. you’d be dragging him down with you.

“i love you, satoru,” you whispered, your thumb wiping away the tears that fell slowly down his cheek as you stood in the doorway of the house you promised would be your home. “that’s why i have to leave.”

–

making your way back down the steps, you sigh again, a single tear rolling down your cheek, your heart heavy with loss, the loss of the life you should have had. you and satoru, making breakfast together in the morning, falling asleep next to one another, planting flowers in the garden. the simple, quiet life. but instead, you’re here, alone.

your steps are heavy as you trace back through the rooms, the last time you’ll likely ever see them.

the floor creaks in the entryway.

slowly, your eyes follow the sound.

white hair, black uniform, and those bright blue eyes. he has a few more wrinkles around his cheeks, but it is absolutely, unmistakably, him.

“satoru?” you whisper.

he smiles at you.

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gothy-froggy · 1 year

Text

How Far Obsession Goes

(Killer Frequency spoilers)

Henry Barrows x fem!reader

Warnings: murder, obsessive behavior, violence, minor character death, suggestive, blood mentioned, main character being to shocked to do anything , non-consensual sexual behavior and actions(?) , not proofread, rushed

Summary: Henry and reader were good friends, now dating, but little does reader know, Henry is in love with her. Obsessed with her. And as the the Whistling Man returns, Henry let’s reader knows about how deep his feelings are.

——————————-

Look at me more.

Smile at me more.

Love me more.

The three phrases echoed in Henry’s mind. He knew his girlfriend loves him. He knows she’s faithful to him. No need to feel like this, but he wants more. Henry wished he could just have her in his arms all the time. Her soft and warm skin against his. Her scent overwhelming his nose, making him drunk from it. Her arms around him as if she needs to be protected. Her pretty head on his chest, the weight from her body pressing more onto him. He needed more.

Henry looked at his reflection before taking a deep breath in, looking down at a picture of his lovely girlfriend. Such a beauty, a shame that he couldn’t be with her every second of their lives. Boy does he wish he can. He stuffed the photo franticly into the pocket of his coat.

“Ready?” His mother asked. She handed him a blade. Henry slowly nod, taking the blade and putting it in his other pocket. His mother grabbed his cheeks and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“Try your best not to get distracted. This town has to pay. Make me proud.”

Henry gave his mother another nod, but he knew he was going to get distracted. His true love isn’t with him. She’s with a friend instead since he had to make an excuse and an alibi for the night. All he could think was maybe, just maybe he could check up on her between kills.

Look at me

Smile at me

Touch me

Love me

“I’m glad we could hang out.” Alex smiled as he grabbed a soft drink from the mini fridge in the bedroom.

“Yeah, I’m happy you could make it!” She agreed, sitting at the end of the bed.

“I know that this day of the year is hard for you. Thought you would like some company.”

“Yeah, appreciate it.” Alex nod, sitting on the floor next to the bed. He held his drink from the top, letting it dangle over his knee.

“I’m surprised that your boyfriend allowed this.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, puzzled by his words. Alex laughed lightly, looking up at her.

“You know, he’s just so protective over you. I get that you two are dating, but he doesn’t got to guard you that much.”

She lightly laughed.

“He means no harm. Henry is a good guy.” She waved it off. She went down the stairs and grabbed Ponty’s Pizza. She played some music and offered Alex some pizza.

“Come on, let’s talk about something else, yeah?”

Look at me

Smile at me

Touch me

Laugh with me

Love me

Henry wiped the blood of his blade. He stared at the lifeless eyes from the man he had just killed. He grabbed his phone and called his mother.

“Mom, I’ll go for him. I know where he’s at.”

“Ok. Be careful. Call me when you’re done. Then we’ll head to the station.”

Henry quickly muttered a ‘I love you’ to his mother before hanging up. He pulled out the picture of his true love. Oh how beautiful his girlfriend is. Every bit of her. Oh he loves her so much. Maybe a little too much. No, that’s not possible. You can never love someone too much. His mother proved that. All of this for his father. He would do the same for her. She could even ask him to and he would. There was no limit to what he would do for her. He thinks of her daily, over a million times.

Henry put the photo away and glanced at the body. Yeah, he would do this for his sweet love in a heartbeat. He put the blade away and walked over to her house. It was just perfect. He gets to see her and kill a target. And so her how deep his love for her goes.

Look at me

Smile at me

Touch me

Laugh with me

Think of me

Love me

She held Alex in her arms as he cried. His empty soda can forgotten on the ground with quite a few beers. Alex clinging on her sleeves.

“Just why my parents, you know?” The sobbing, drunken Alex sniffled.

“On this…fucking day too!” She pat his back, gently shushing him.

“You aren’t alone Alex. You’re ok.” She comforted him. Alex hiccuped, looking up at her.

“Yeah, I got you, don’t I?” He slurred a bit. Alex forced her on the bed, ignoring her scream and discomfort.

“Alex, no! Let me go!” She screeched. Alex brought his face closer with a more sickly smile.

“Come on. Do you know how, long I waited to get with you?” Alex gritted his teeth, sounding frustrated and upset.

“That Henry fuck ruined it all!” She flinched by his shout.

“Alex, please,” She whispered as panic continued to build.

Panic builder up, but no longer from Alex.

Alex suddenly got off of her, hitting the floor hard. A masked man in a long trench coat, the Whistling Man, grabbed him, throwing him against the desk and from wall to wall. Her frantic screams helped nothing as Alex got his serve beating.

The Whistling Man pulled out his blood stained knife with one hand, the other keeping Alex against the wall with a ball of his shirt. The blade being shoved deep inside Alex’s stomach. The Whistling Man took the blade out and threw Alex on the floor. He turned him over after getting on top, rising the knife with both hands.

He stabbed the knife into his chest.

He stabbed his chest again.

And again.

M e

Again.

The Whistling Man stabbed Alex directly in the heart, adding pressure as he watched him take his final breath. He tilted his head before taking the knife out. He turned to the mortified woman. He grabbed her as she tried to run out of the door.

“Shhh.” He turned her around and sat her on the bed. He took the mask off, revealing it was her boyfriend.

“Henry?!” She screeched, desperately trying to get away.

“Baby, he can’t hurt you anymore, it’s ok. I’m here.” He forced her into a hug, kissing the top of her head. Henry ignored her scared rambling and attempt to get away.

“Look at me,” He said calmly, grabbing her cheek with a hand.

“I will kill anyone for you. Understood? Anyone.” His sickly obsessed eyes staring into hers. He rubbed her cheek as he kept a firm grasp on her, but not enough to hurt her.

“I love you, ok?” He whispered. He lightly jerked her head as she tried to glance at Alex’a deceased body.

“Don’t look at him. Look at me.” He demanded. Her fearful eyes looking back at Henry.

“Much better,” He slightly smiled.

“Don’t try to run away. You got it?” He told her. She very slowly nodded her head, following his instructions. Henry wrapped his arms around just below her waist, laying his body over her legs. He felt her loud and fast beating heart, her visible shaking. He let out a content sigh, looking up at her. His eyes were no longer loving. Something darker and twisted, more deep.

Obsession.

“I would do anything for you.”

Look at me more.

Smile at me more.

Touch me more.

Laugh with me more.

Think of me more.

Love me more.

More more more.

——————————-

#fan fic writing #killer frequency #killer frequency x reader #killer frequency spoilers #henry barrow x reader #the whistling man x reader #the whistling man #x reader

133 notes · View notes

starbylers · 1 year

Text

Here’s 7 of my favourite Byler proofs just from season 4. Pretty sure we all know these but just a refresher if anyone is feeling doubtful <3

Camera focusing on men wrestling when in Mike’s POV

There is no other explanation for this shot: Mike was watching the boys. Hinting at his sexuality is the only reasoning here that has actual narrative purpose.

Symbolism in the final scene

The dying Mlvn flowers vs the blooming flowers edited between Mike and Will.

El walking away from the love triangle framing, alone. Mike and Will centred as a pair between the other endgame couples. This is not an accident, the way everyone is positioned in twos is incredibly staged and deliberate.

Mike’s bedroom walls

The shirtless male dragon on a literal rainbow poster (this one is so obvious I have to laugh). Other characters have pictures of the gender they’re shown to be attracted to on their walls, why is it any different for Mike? And of course the one way sign. Set design is a professional career, these things were not thrown in at random. A character’s room is supposed to give us insight into who they are and their story.

The narrative. The most basic but strong evidence that exists.

El lying to Mike for months. Mike avoiding touching Will and pretending not to look at him in the airport, after finding out he likes a girl. Mike and El fighting and Mike using gaslighting language and shifting blame. El leaving Mike behind with ‘from El’. Their relationship is on the rocks. Will and Mike having multiple interrupted heart to hearts. Borderline flirting and definite gazing into each other’s eyes in the Dear Billy talk. Mike feeling insecure and inferior in his relationship. Will’s secret love confession making Mike feel happy and better about himself. That same confession encouraging Mike to give the monologue. The monologue being completely impersonal and containing at least one 100% confirmed lie (love at first sight). El fails to achieve her goal (save Max) despite Mike’s words. El having no response to Mike’s long-awaited ‘I love you’ when it’s been days.

Suzie’s house foreshadowing episode 9

Mike & Suzie’s dad both hit by the arrow (to show he represents Mike)

‘It looked genuine’ do I need to say more?

Also this foreshadowing is backed up by one of Suzie’s sibling’s lines ‘too much salt’ (aka reference to the salt bath).

The Suzie’s house sequence has absolutely no purpose to the plot. It exists for parallel purposes.

Fruit on pizza metaphor interrupting Mike’s alleged ‘I love you’ attempt

Mike: ‘That’s blasphemous! Putting fruit on pizza?’

Argyle: ‘Try before you deny.’ El: ‘It’s good!’

I think this metaphor is pretty self-explanatory. (Trying the ‘fruit’ = exploring his sexuality, Mike thinks it’s wrong, specifically using the word ‘blasphemous’ (which in simple terms is defined as ‘to disrespect God or religion’, and we know Mike grew up in a homophobic small town in the 80s). There are more detailed explanations of this elsewhere on Tumblr, this is just a mini summary).

Also, Argyle calling Mike Romeo (reference to a doomed relationship).

Again, this scene had absolutely no purpose plotwise or character-wise (at least explicitly). It was pure symbolism.

‘Straight doesn’t make sense’ map joke

Mike: ‘Straight, straight, straight…right on the money, as I said.’

Jonathan: ‘It just doesn’t make sense.’

Yet again, no plot or character purpose for this dialogue, or at least not for wording it this way. This was clearly a joke alluding to Mike’s sexuality (and him possibly being in denial), similar to the telemarketing joke in s3 (‘El? Sorry, not interested’).

#byler #these things are only scratching the surface of all the evidence but just wanted to ease people’s minds :)#we are getting our endgame guys

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watermelonsugacry · 1 year

Note

i would adore to learn how/when y/n meet mitch! your posts make me so happy!

Choose Your Words

A/N: in celebration of SINCE 2010 turning 1 on Tumblr, here's how the two best guitarists in the world met! 💚

SUMMARY: After almost a year into One Direction's hiatus, Harry craves being in the studio again to make some music. After inviting his best friend and former band member, YN, onto his team, they spend the next two months in Jamaica as they make an album, uncover hidden feelings, and explore uncharted territories. (3.5k)

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn

SINCE 2010 masterlist // Jamaica series // Previous song here! 🌵

SIDE-NOTE: italicized is voice over commentary (I wrote this kind of like the Behind the Album documentary) bold are things Harry actually said irl

“So what did you say his name was again?”

Today marks the first day of the official writing session for Harry’s new album. The last of the team had just finished flying in the day before and settling into their new home for the next two months.

Much like her time in the band, YN being the only female in this team was given her own room to stay in for their stay in Jamaica. With only a couple of hours in the land of paradise, she’s already traded in her skinny jeans for shorts and her leather jackets for open button-up shirts with tank tops underneath.

Harry is just too excited to wait any longer. YN could tell how much he’s been holding it in and he has been itching to be back in the studio to make some music. After everyone’s taken naps to overcome the jet lag, it was time to get into the home studio to bring Harry’s ideas to fruition.

The two of them haven’t experienced writing an album like this before. They were always on the road whenever they recorded, putting down some vocals here and there in a mini van minutes before going on stage to perform to a stadium full of people. They’ve never had the chance to set a month or two aside to solely focus on creating such a magic piece of art. Despite already getting in the studio to get started working on the album, it already feels like a vacation.

But before they could even get started, she had to ask about the last member of Harry’s team that she wasn’t able to meet before making the trip overseas.

“Mitch. Mitch Rowland. He was Ryan’s roommate.” Harry answers as YN takes a sip of her smoothie she made earlier that morning. Her and Harry walk side by side down the hallway on their way to the built-in home studio. The house they were staying in was absolutely beautiful. It was just sitting off the coast so almost every window in the house had a view of the beach. It has a lot of open space in each room, a spacious backyard and a patio area for get-togethers, but YN’s favorite part of the house is the home studio. She can’t wait until hers gets done by the time they get back from their trip.

“Wait, what happened to the other bloke that was supposed to come in?”

Harry takes the cup from her hand and takes a sip for himself, “He bailed.”

“Just like that?” YN raises her eyebrows in surprise as he nods around the cup. “Well shit. Is this new guy legit then?”

“Ryan said Mitch has been working at a pizza shop for the last couple of years and that they’re pretty good friends.” She nods along before being handed back her cup. “Met him about a week before we came out here and he’s pretty fucking wicked at the guitar. He’s pretty stiff competition compared to you.”

“Har, har,” YN playfully rolls her eyes at his teasing but the compliment simultaneously inflates her ego and gives her tummy butterflies at the same time. The feeling in her stomach only increases as she watches Harry rake a hand through his new haircut.

Only a week before they need to take off to Jamaica, YN and Harry take the trip back to Holmes Chapel to a very excited Anne. The woman never fails to extend a warm welcome—especially towards the young lady who her son’s been secretly in love with since he was a teenager.

They stay by the doorframe of Anne’s small kitchen and (despite YN’s few attempts to talk him out of it) watch as Harry gets ready for his first haircut in almost two years. He takes off his shirt since he doesn’t feel like plucking the hair off of the fabric, leaving him in his pajama pants. The two women watch as he gets his long locks tied back in a low ponytail and YN can’t help the giggle that tumbles out of her lips.

“What are you laughing at?” Harry can’t help but chuckle as well. As much as this transformation is needed in order to transition into this new chapter in his life, there’s no denying that he’s feeling anxious as well.

“M’nervous! I can’t help it,” YN beams, tightly linking her arm with Anne’s.

“You want to cut a bit of it off?” Harry offers.

“Like hell m’gonna to be partly responsible for this crime being committed in front of me eyes.”

The people in the room laugh at her playfully offended tone and Anne pats her hand reassuringly to the young woman’s arm. YN’s had her fair share of hair transformations over the years. For Harry, his long hair has always been her favorite. She remembers the day he told her he planned on growing it out with the intention of donating it and the day he asked her about some ways he could keep his hair out of his eyes—introducing his love for headscarves and small clips. She remembers when she had a real shitty day and he let her braid his long hair to cheer her up...only for him to keep them on for the show they had later that night. She loved to card her fingers through his hair and watch his eyes fight to stay open.

Right as the hairdresser begins to grab at the low ponytail and brings the blades of the scissors to his hair, YN playfully covers her eyes and digs her face into Anne’s arm, “I can’t watch!”

“I was the one with the long hair. I’ve had it for so much of One Direction that cutting it off just felt like starting afresh.”

YN’s eyes peek through the gap in between her fingers as she watches the deed be done. Harry also has a hand over his eyes and playfully groans out in pain.

She snaps a couple of pictures of him initially getting his hair trimmed before leaving to the living room to let him have his haircut in peace and have a chat with Anne. And once it was officially over, Harry only adds to the anticipation of his new haircut reveal when he tells her to cover her eyes.

“Hurry up, H. M’already all worked up.”

“Okay, okay,” She hears the sound of wood—presumingly the coffee table—scraping against the floor before he takes a take on it to be in front of her. “Open your eyes, love.”

Her eyes make their way up from the two birds on his chest up to his head.

“Huh,” She smiles contently at the sight in front of her. Harry’s hair no longer reaches below his shoulders. The curly curtains that once framed his face have been removed. His newly short locks don’t seem as curly as it used to be but they both know it’s still there. Harry’s hair is styled in an upward motion and all she wants to do is run her fingers through it.

So she brings a hand up to do just that. She combs her fingers through the top of his hair and she’s slightly surprised that his hair is not long enough for the action to last longer. Her gaze moves down to his eyes and sees him waiting for her approval.

“Is that a good ‘huh’?” He asks when she hasn’t said another word.

“It’s a good ‘huh.’” She tilts her head to the side as she continues to stare at him and a smile of his own creeps onto his face. She’s definitely going to miss his long hair, but on the other hand, she thinks his new look suits him as he starts a new chapter in life. And if she’s being completely honest with herself, he looks so fucking handsome.

When he sees her eyes continuing to bounce around the top of his head and around the rest of his face, he playfully pushes at her knee, “Stop or else I’ll get conceded.”

His chest swells when he sees that gorgeous smile of hers only become that much brighter, “Oh I think you’re way past that.”

“I was about to personify my hair but I decided not to,” Harry huffs out a smirk from his seat in front of his interview chair.

“M’excited for you to meet him though,” Harry says, rubbing his hands together. “Getting a lead guitarist is just the beginning for all this, y’know? Like it makes this that much more real.”

It’s really exciting to see Harry so excited about his music. Going from being in the band for five years and putting out an album a year was tiring to say the least but the fact that they were making music that they loved balanced out some of the stress. Now as an upcoming solo artist, it was inspiring to see him as passionate about music as he was when she first met him all those years ago.

“Well let’s stop wasting time then and let me go see how wicked this guy really is.” YN smiles and reaches for the door handle but before she can touch it, his hand covers hers. She blinks up at him as he brings their joined hands to his chest.

“You think talking to me is a waste of time, lovie?” Whether it was the teasing look in his eye or the way he smirks at her with his dimpled cheeks, but it has her mind going blank without a witty comment to fire back. Yet this is how they’ve been for years: making jokes that were borderline flirty, causing the other person to smirk or playfully roll their eyes in fake annoyance, acting like one another’s actions didn’t have an effect on them when it utterly and wholeheartedly did. Since they couldn’t do anything about it with the strict restrictions of the no-dating rule in the band, there was no harm or foul with these kinds of conversations.

Now everything is different.

They aren’t in the band anymore.

These stubble comments and questions left them searching for the truth behind each word that pushed past the other’s lips. Did the other person actually mean what they said or was it just them being how they always are?

At a loss for words, she furrows her brows with a rigid shake of her head, “N-no, I-I mean—”

“M’joking darling,” An amused smile graces his face from seeing her all flustered and tongue-tied. It’s a rare sight so whenever he’s able to catch her off guard in this way, he relishes in it.

YN pulls her hand away from Harry’s with an eye roll and a scoff, trying her best to play off a cool demeanor, “I know tha’.”

Despite her efforts, he continues to smirk down at her before twisting the door handle and pushing the door open.

“After you,” Harry extends a hand out towards the room. With one last look at him, she enters the room with the rim of the cup to her lips to hide the heat creeping its way up to her cheeks. She sees two of the producers, Tyler and Alex, messing around with the buttons on the panel and in a light discussion.

She also sees a guy in the recording room through the window above the huge studio console. His long hair covers his face as he looks down to tune his guitar.

“Is this him?” She asks, feeling Harry behind her.

Tyler turns around and gives a quick nod, “Should we let him know we’re ready for him?”

YN cocks up an eyebrow with a hand lazily resting on her hip, “Let’s see what he’s got.”

Given the good girl persona that One Direction’s management forced upon her during the majority of her career, no one would really expect her to look so intimidating. Sure, there’s always going to be some slight intimidation for the fact that she’s a member of one of the most famous bands in the world, making music that quickly lands them at the top of the charts, putting out new music, and performing to sold-out stadiums almost every night—but she’s been so prim and proper externally that some people wouldn’t think twice to write her off as anything else.

As the last year of the band progressed, more and more of her personality began to shine through to the outside world. She’s a harsh critic and doesn’t like to sugar coat shit—especially if it comes to a big project like this for one of the most important people in her life.

So as she takes a seat on the leather sofa chair with Harry sitting on the arm rest, she puts one leg over the other and crosses her arms over her chest with a neutral expression on her face. Harry might say that this hippie looking guy is a good guitarist, but YN needs to see that for herself.

“I was a bit skeptical about Mitch at first, m’not gonna lie,” YN lightly laughs in her interview chair. “I mean, v’seen a lot of talented guitarists so far during my music career so I was mainly looking to see like, ‘what’s so different about this guy?’”

From the first note that the guy behind the glass riffs—as cool as it was—she keeps from showing her thoughts and brings her cup to her lips. Harry pinches at his bottom lips as he watches for her reactions; needing her approval for something as vital as this racks his nerves like no other.

As Mitch continues to play, Harry sees the way YN begins to slowly move her head to the pretty melody. Her eyes scan the spot on the floor in front of her as she listens closely to what’s being played and the infamous crease in between her eyebrows appears.

“But the moment he started playing, he just...” She shakes her head with a smirk. “...he blew me fookin’ socks off.”

Mitch does a really cool riff on the guitar that has the four of them in the room whoop and shout in amazement.

“Woah!” Harry stands up from his seat and lifts his arms in the air.

“Holy shit!” YN lets out a laugh, putting her hands to her temple in disbelief. “Are yeh fookin’ kidding me?”

The next thing she knows, Harry’s removing his pink button up, crossing his arms across his torso and removing his shirt to place it onto her lap behind him. The two producers in the room soon catch on and start laughing hysterically at the sight before them.

Harry then proceeds to shimmy out of his tight, black jeans, leaving him in his tiny briefs, and sticks his arms in the air. YN places her index fingers in the corners of her mouth and blows out a loud whistle both for Mitch's guitar skills and Harry's undressing.

The two of them don’t waste another second as Harry takes her inside the recording room to formally introduce her to the newest member of the team.

“Mitch, this is my best friend YN. YN, this is—”

“Mitch fookin’ Rowland,” YN smirks, taking his outreached hand. “S’nice to meet yeh, mate.”

“Thanks, same here,” Mitch gives her a shy smile. “Harry’s told me a lot about you. He told me you’re a musician too?”

Trying not to be thrown off by his innocent tone, YN glances at Harry at Mitch’s unexpected comment but she’s quick to bounce back, “I am, yeah. Nothing too major though. Play a bit of guitar as well.”

“Yeah, and by ‘a bit,’” Harry throws a hand on her shoulder. “She means she’s practically married to it.”

“You have to show me some of your secrets then,” Mitch motions to the guitar that’s still pressed against himself.

“Sure, but before that, you gotta show me how you did that one riff earlier,” YN says as she’s already reaching for one of the guitars she’s brought for the trip and throwing the thick strap over her shoulder.

It’s strange to meet someone who hasn’t known their band. YN can’t remember the last time she met someone where they didn’t know her name and her success prior to being formally introduced. Since she was sixteen years old, she began to feel like everyone knew everything about her: her feelings, her background, what she was fucking thinking just because they read something in some sleazy, tabloid article. People had preconceived notions about her but with Mitch, it’s the complete opposite. It was an uncomfortable experience at first, but then YN fookin’ loves it.

“The thing with Mitch is that since he had no experience with being in a recording studio and YN having the same, if not more, experience with songwriting and that sort of thing, it really connected us in a way where the three of us sort of, balanced each other out,” Harry explains, before pitching at his bottom lip with his thumb and index finger. “We had each other to lean on and work this out together and the three of us wrote the majority of the album together.”

“The first song we wrote together was Ever Since New York,” YN recalls as she pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Knowing from personal experience, the best form of therapy and venting out yeh feelings is in songwriting so...that song was just waiting to come out of Harry.”

A major part of creating music is being vulnerable. It’s an intimate experience to write songs, especially with other people, in letting other people see your hurts, your feelings, and the kinds of thoughts that can keep you up late at night. It’s one of the reasons why YN and Harry are as close as they are. It took some time to get used to it at the beginning of their careers together, but they let each other see the deepest parts of themselves. They tell each other things that they’d be embarrassed to tell anyone else with no fear of judgment; they’ve created a safe space in one another...well, as safe as one can feel when they’re secret, deeper feelings for their best friend.

Ever Since New York came to life fairly easily; songwriting can be that way when writing from life experiences. After finalizing some of the lyrics about Harry’s sick father with YN and working out the chords with Mitch, the next they knew he was laying down the vocals for the song.

As everyone gets to work in the studio, YN finds herself reverting back to her old demeanor in the band: sitting in the corner of the room watching as the four male producers work their magic in front of the huge console of buttons and sliders. Not that she minded all that much since she was hired as a songwriter, there was nothing in that kind of job description for her to be with the other men producing Harry’s songs.

She knew her place without being told and she’s had years of experience in learning how to be okay with that...but that didn’t stop her mind from dreaming about being up there, moving various sliders, typing away at the desktop computer, and helping fix vocals as they appear in their zigzag form on the screen.

As if hearing her thoughts behind him, YN’s head perks up when Tom—better known as Kid Harpoon—spins around in his seat and beckons her over with a nod of his head.

When Harry comes out of the recording booth, a smile spreads across his face when he sees YN sitting in a swiveling chair with everyone else, clicking away at the desktop mouse as Kid points to the screen. She nods to whatever he’s saying and highlights the recorded vocals to make the needed adjustments.

When Kid sees Harry come up to them, he pipes up, “H, you didn’t tell me we got another producer on our team.”

“Oh, no s’nothing—”

“I thought you knew,” Harry says in-matter of fact, interrupting YN before she can finish. When she blinks up at him, he nods over to the computer screen. “Wanna show me what you’ve got so far?”

She gives him that smile that has been making his knees weak since he was sixteen years old. “Okay. Okay, yeah. Um, so here’s a bit from the first verse you did earlier...”

As she shows him the work she’s done, it takes him a second to make his eyes stop bouncing around her profile. She speaks so passionately about her work, her eyes lighting up like a kid in a candy store. The way her plushy lips push and pull with each word has him wanting to reach out to run his thumb over her bottom lip.

After all these years, how has his feelings for her not gone away?

He thought maybe this time it would be different. They’re not in the band anymore...but with her being hired on as a member of his album-making team, they’re practically co-workers once again.

Harry pulls his eyes away from her face and looks at the computer screen in hopes to drown out those intrusive thoughts. He just hopes this doesn’t affect their work...shit.

Next Song Here! 👻

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