#forecast is always wrong

[canisitsnotlupus]

a lot of the times, it is the little things i love about forecast. i lay down when i get dizzy and she lays on the bed beside me, and when i'm finally feeling better and get up to go back to the computer, she gets up too. with a great sigh she moves to lay under the computer desk and goes back to sleep. i do not ask her to join me; i'm fine if she doesn't. it is just across the room, after all, maybe twelve feet, if that, where she can see me clearly from the bed. but she joins me every time.

[piplupod]

if it storms tonight then i have wizard powers

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I CRUMBLE COMPLETELY WHEN YOU CRY ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; after a tense fight with your boyfriend, you flee out into a brewing rainstorm. luckily, suguru is always willing to warm you up again.

word count; 6.2k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, copious amounts of hurt/comfort, no really that’s literally all this fic is, sugu snaps at you for worrying about him, (and then promptly spirals), he makes it up to you though :), healthy communication ensues, [name] is used exactly once, switching povs, soft & fluffy ending <33

a/n; going back to my roots (mindless hurt/comfort) 🙏🙏 i just think that if suguru picked me up like a small kitten and put me in his lap it would fix me

you’re cold.

little shivers run through your body, trail down your spine, and all you can do is clench your chattering teeth and dig your nails into the skin of your palms. heavy rain falls down without mercy, going pitter patter as it hits the asphalt — a sudden lightning strike lights up the town, flashing in the reflection of puddles, and all you manage is a weak jolt.

dark clouds blanket the whole sky, not allowing even a sliver of blue to shine through the darkness of the rainy evening. enveloping you, surrounding you, soft earthy scents — wet asphalt, roses blooming to your left and right, bushes with sweet-smelling flora guiding your path. little petals, glistening with droplets and bouncing with the force of the rain.

it’d be comforting, were it not for one simple fact; 

you don’t have an umbrella.

at this point, thirty minutes into your solemn, sniffly walk, you’re absolutely soaked. with only a measly hoodie to cover your body and head, and a tank top sticking to the skin beneath it — you were stupid to think you’d get out of it unscathed. your shoes are ruined, wet soles sticking to the asphalt, two heavy weights carrying you down the familiar street ahead.

you let out a shuddering breath. 

gosh, this was stupid. you knew it was going to rain, but still walked out without a care in the world; despite the weather forecast, despite suguru’s warnings over breakfast, despite all those dark clouds covering the milk-blue sky. you just didn’t think it’d be this bad. you just felt so helpless.

you just couldn’t stay there.

some fresh air, and a bit of space. that was all you needed. just that one sliver of comfort.

so, yeah, maybe you weren’t thinking very clearly when you stormed out. maybe you weren’t thinking nearly enough, not enough to even grab one of the umbrellas hanging off the coatrack. hanging there just for you, the cutest little frog umbrella, one suguru bought for you himself. big, googly eyes, and a big smile. the most perfect shade of green. 

(he put it there just for you.)

maybe you weren’t thinking much at all. maybe you just needed to get away, away from him, away from the frustration on his features. arguments with suguru are few and far between; that fact only adds to the sting of his cold voice, still ringing in your ears. you bite down on your bottom lip again, just to stop it from wobbling so pitifully. blinking rapidly, tears and raindrops clinging to your lashline.

you were just worried. is that so awful? 

(why did he have to be so fucking mean about it?)

a sigh flows from your lips, heavy and defeated, undeniably tired. you hate feeling like this, feeling this bitter, hate feeling like you’ve done something wrong. more than anything, you hate arguing with him — hate the idea of him being angry with you. hate the way his voice turns colder, just a little sharper, an octave lower. he never raises it, never ever, but somehow he still sounds so scary. 

it bothers you. bothers you how sensitive you are, when it comes to him. just that shivering tilt of his voice, coupled with the annoyance in his eyes, and your eyes were already turning glassy. one little sentence, and you were close to breaking out into a sob. because suguru was angry with you, and that alone is enough to make you feel like you’ve done nothing right all your life.

so you left. because that was all you could do. 

sure, the sharp pelting of the rain hurts a little, and the thunder is scary, and you’re awfully cold — but anything is better than having suguru see you burst into tears over such a small argument. you know he’d try to soothe you, know he’d feel guilty. but that just makes it all the more embarrassing. 

(all the more pathetic.)

so you left, rushed out of your own apartment, and before you knew it the storm was rolling in above you. rain and thunder, something to rival the ache in your chest. it still hasn’t been that long, a little over half an hour, and you still haven’t fully calmed down. you still don’t know how to face him. but —

but fuck, it’s cold. and an undeniable part of you yearns to run back into his arms, to make up with him, to hear his voice turn warm and see his eyes go soft. you want him to soothe you so, so badly. like he always does. 

another sigh — more resigned this time — slips from out your lips. your bones feel sore, you’re almost certain you’re going to catch a cold, and it’s getting late. you’re all alone, and it’s raining, and you look vulnerable and helpless. 

you want to go home.

it’ll be awkward, but maybe you can sneak in somehow — without him noticing. then you can go straight to sleep, on the couch, and maybe you’ll feel a little better tomorrow. the two of you can talk it out over breakfast, over warm coffee, and you can tell him what you meant to say without stumbling over what words to use or dancing around the subject like a scared little child.

you’re just too tired to argue anymore.

he just made you feel so stupid. so very, very small. suguru’s been working so hard lately, coming home late, exhausting himself. all you wanted was to make sure he was okay. that, and to coax him into relaxing a bit; maybe take a day off to recharge. that was all.

but he just brushed you off.

and, well, maybe you should’ve backed off after that. maybe you should’ve taken that as a sign that suguru didn’t feel up to answering your questions. but you were just so worried, so pitifully anxious, and you just wanted to help him so, so badly.

suguru is always so dependable. always there to help you, to ground you, to console you. even when you push him away or insist you don’t need it. he can be pushy, when he feels like he needs to, when your health is at risk — and it’s frustrating, but you’ve always appreciated it. you just wanted to return the favour. push him, just a little, to show him how much you care. show him that he can depend on you the way he insists you do with him.

but then he grew frustrated.

”suguru… you’ve been working so much, i’m —” you bite down on your bottom lip. ”i’m just worried that you’re overdoing it.” ”… god. how many times do i have to say it? i know my limits, [name].” ”but — you just look so tired —” ”well, i’m sorry for that.” a cold smile. ”am i not living up to your expectations?”

(that’s not what you meant. he knows that’s not what you meant.)

and it makes you feel frustrated, too. pardon you for being worried. for wanting to be there for him, for once, for wanting to be a supportive partner and not just a burden. 

pardon you for feeling a little lonely, with him coming home so late, leaving so early. with him not giving you the affection you’re so used to, and never confiding in you about his stress.

pardon you for wanting him to trust you, a little, even just a sliver more than not at all.

god, you’re exhausted. you just want to sleep — can’t you have that, at least? just that one thing? you don’t mind sleeping on the couch, don’t mind feeling like a stranger in your own home, as long as you get to rest your eyes. just for a little while. 

your brain spins in circles, bitterness and longing heavy on your tongue, as you grumble over what to do or how to feel — 

while your feet have already begun taking you home. moving almost on their own, on instinct, walking past rose bushes and backyards, the smell of glucose and rotting apples. 

and you’re there before you know it: in front of the familiar door to your shared apartment, soaked from head to toe. still feeling a little lost.

for a second, you hesitate.

maybe he’s still angry. maybe he was happy to get some time away from you. maybe you’re just making things worse by doing this, maybe you should just —

but your fingers have already fished out the key from within your pocket, unlocking the door in one swift motion. moving up to curl around the doorknob, a desperation in your veins guiding you closer to his steady warmth.

and before you have the chance to waver again, you pull the door open and step inside.

you move slowly, gentle and careful, almost cautious. softly closing the door behind you and taking a couple quiet steps forward, only to shrug off your hoodie — heavy, soaking wet and discomforting as you pull it over your head. clumsily, you try to get it off you, squirming when the warm indoors air meets your sweaty tank top. it feels soothing on your bare skin, though, ghosting over your shoulders and collarbone, hoodie now clinging to your elbows.

in the middle of the taxing endeavor, you almost fail to notice the presence of a certain someone, standing just a little farther away. 

almost, because it’d be impossible for you to miss him, that heavy gaze of his.

and before you can think the thought to do anything else, you’ve locked eyes with him — arms still tangled up in the wet sleeves of your hoodie, raindrops and sweat sticking to your skin.

(suguru takes a moment to look at you.)

not daring to say anything, afraid to part your lips, you simply stand there. in silence, like a deer in headlights. for some reason, you can’t really read his expression — you’re a little too tired, a little too caught off guard.

you can only blink, worry surely evident in your furrowed brows, as the seconds tick on and on. tense, tense, tense.

and then he’s walking away again. 

crestfallen. that’s probably the best way to describe how you feel right now, watching him disappear around the corner. dejected, as your eyes fall to the floor, and your posture wilts like a dying rose. you finally shake off your hoodie and watch it fall to the floor with a gross, wet plap.

it hurts. you want to cry. you can’t help it. even though a part of you is still upset, even though a part of you fully expected this to happen… 

another part was still hoping he’d be happy to see you. as if just seeing his smile again might’ve fixed everything.

but he didn’t even give you that.

that’s that, then. there’s nothing you can do except proceed with your original plan. you’ll change into some warm, dry clothes, and go to sleep on the couch like the miserable dog you are. you’ll leave everything troublesome and disheartening for tomorrow’s you to handle. 

for now, you just have to worry about getting some sleep. you don’t have to think about suguru, or his cold voice, or the way he just walked away without saying anything. 

you don’t have to think about him at all. 

(don’t think. don’t think. don’t —)

— the soft patter of footsteps breaks you out of your anxious spiral. they come closer and closer, until a certain silhouette enters your vision out of the corner of your eye.

a certain suguru geto, hair down and cascading past his shoulders, wearing a comfortable sweater and loose sweatpants with a fluffy towel in tow.

once again, you can only blink. a vaguely confused deer in headlights. suguru comes closer and closer, until you can clearly see his eyes, amber gold, full of an emotion you finally manage to identify —

worry.

(ah.)

before you can say anything, he’s draped the towel around you. it feels nice, a soft texture on your skin, big enough to engulf you completely, cocooning you. cozy and snug. you can’t help but melt a little when suguru places his big hand over the towel and smooths it over your cheek, drying off your skin so gently that you feel like crying again.

”are you cold?” he asks, concern evident in his voice. to your immense relief, it sounds nowhere near as scary as before. ”you’re soaked…”

suguru almost seems to be pouting, bottom lip jutting out the slightest bit, eyebrows furrowed softly. still rubbing the raindrops off your skin. he looks awfully troubled, undeniably anxious, and the way he’s caressing your skin feels so earnestly caring. the towel feels warm, like he went the extra mile to heat it up for you.

and, more than anything, the feeling of suguru’s big hands cupping your face is almost heavenly. even though the touch is indirect, you can’t help but bask in his warmth, almost desperate to cling to it after escaping from the harsh cold of the rain. like he could slip away and leave you again if you don’t stay perfectly still, just like this.

it’s soothing. so, so soothing. but it also makes you feel kind of meek.

you sound sheepish when you answer, voice a little hoarse after your grueling walk. throat dry from all the crying. ”nah, ’m fine…”

the words are tiny, fragile like pieces of glass, and they only make suguru’s brows furrow further, pout turning into a soft frown as he gazes down at you.

(he hates how small you look. like you’re curling in on yourself.)

as soon as you left the apartment, a wave of regret washed over him. it was expected, obviously, because that’s what always happens after the two of you argue — which is almost never, which only makes the cut in his heart run deeper. 

he felt frustrated. and tired, so tired. but when he saw your troubled expression, the way your eyes watered slightly before you rushed out…

he could only feel guilty.

and that sensation only deepened as he sat on the couch and spiraled, over the course of forty long minutes, playing the interaction back inside his head. over and over, thinking about your words, his words, some of which he desperately wishes he could take back. 

and when it started raining? suguru could only feel regret, hot and ugly, dragging him into his own thoughts. could only drown in his worries, look out the window anxiously. thinking of you, his sweet baby, stuck under the onslaught of dark clouds and lightning strikes and heavy rain.

(you didn’t bring an umbrella.)

suguru waited. that was all he could do. 

he didn’t think it was possible for him to feel so useless. fighting with himself, the part of him that wanted to give you the space you needed clashing with the part that yearned to run after you — scoop you up and apologize, hold you tight and protect you from the rainfall. you weren’t answering his calls, and he didn’t want to overwhelm you, didn’t want to make you feel even worse. afraid to scare you off for good.

so he could only sit there and worry, sit there and wait, wallow in his own shame until he heard the faintest sound of the front door unlocking. followed by the sound of it creaking open, slowly — and that was all he needed. 

and there you were. standing by the entrance, entirely soaked, tank top sticking to your skin and that flimsy hoodie hanging off your arms, cheeks a little red from the cold and strands of hair sticking to your skin.

like a tiny kitten left out in the rain.

it made him feel so painfully anxious. his heart aching so deeply, so viscerally, while all he could think about was smothering you in affection. taking care of you, like he always wants to do, needs to do to stay sane. so suguru left, to go grab something to dry you off with —

and now he’s here. in front of you, smothering you with the towel rather than his love, fretting over you like an overprotective mother. 

suguru yearns to soothe you. to take care of you. always, always, always, his hands on your skin and lidded amber eyes staring deeply into yours. offering himself like a shelter to a stray dog, hoping so tenderly that you’ll take the bait.

(he just wants you to feel safe with him again.)

so he stumbles for something, anything to say, afraid of overstepping or making you uncomfortable. you did just argue, and suguru was anything but patient with you. usually he would be; he’d make sure to be. but with work piling up, and exhaustion clinging to every pore of his skin…

he failed at maintaining his composure.

he needs to make it up to you. despite everything — even though he feels a little awkward, a little restless, still drowning a little in shame — he just wants to tend to you. that, and nothing more.

”hang on,” he exhales, stepping back and letting go of the towel. ”i’ll go draw you a bath…”

”ah — no need,” you smile, a little forced, swiftly reassuring him. he can tell you don’t really know how to act after everything that happened; still walking on eggshells. ”i’ll just take a quick shower.”

suguru wants to protest, wants to coax you into taking a proper bath, into letting your cold skin and aching bones relax completely —

but he can only hum, a little unsure. a little sad. 

”… okay. got it.”

perplexed, he tries his hand at another tactic. still so desperate to take care of you in whatever way you’ll allow, like always, but he thinks it’s worse now. even more desperate, after the fight you had, after seeing your frail, shivering self. resisting the urge to scoop you up and coddle you is a struggle.

”i can make you tea?” he tries, inwardly wincing at the way the words spill from his lips; uncertain, awkward. what a mess.

but you smile, slightly more genuinely this time, a soft little thing. it soothes some of the anxiety rotting through his ribs.

”tea would be great, thank you.”

you brush past him, warm towel still hanging off your shoulders. ”i’ll just take a shower in the meantime,” you murmur, and suguru can do nothing but nod, watching you go. 

he swallows thickly.

(that’s that, then.)

tea. right. what kind of tea? something warm, and soothing, and good for your throat. chamomile? peppermint? he’ll add a spoon of honey, just the way you like.

suguru’s mind spins in circles while his feet take him to the kitchen, hands swiftly rummaging through cabinets and getting the electric kettle ready. placing teacups and a teapot on the table, cute little floral designs he couldn’t help but fill your kitchen with. pouring hot peppermint tea into the pot, a strong scent drifting through the kitchen, drowning his senses in bliss.

caught up in his own head, losing track of time, suguru fails to notice you walking from the bathroom — stopping by the threshold of the kitchen, hesitant to make your presence known. a few silent moments pass. with a tiny inhale, mint invading your senses, you take a step forward. calm and sleepy, skin still pleasantly hot from the warm shower, hair still a little damp.

only then does suguru notice you, his gaze drifting to your figure as if instinctively drawn to it.

you’re clad in some comfortable sweatpants, and an oversized hoodie — his hoodie, the one with the unreasonably soft texture, the one you tend to gravitate towards — the one he likes to see you in the most, because you always look so thoroughly comfy in it. almost drowning in the fabric. 

seeing you all warm and cozy, in his clothing no less, sends a tremor of pure warmth running through suguru’s chest. sprouting in his heart and spreading throughout his entire body. he can’t bring himself to resist the soft curl of his lips, gazing at you so fondly he’s almost sure you notice it.

”i made peppermint,” he says, a little breathless, already pouring boiling tea into two cups on the table. ”that okay?”

”yeah,” you answer, instantaneous. stifling a yawn. you’d have been fine with anything, really.

the shower worked wonders for your muddled mind; chasing away the shivers down your spine, that unpleasant chill to your skin. most importantly, it gave you a moment to simply relax, to bask in the peace and quiet. feel the hot water surround you, melt your bones like softened clay. you feel a little better, now. still anxious, more than a little sleepy, but better. and right now, that’s all you need. 

with a groggy kind of pep in your step, you stumble over to the kitchen table, plopping down on the chair across from where suguru is sitting. trying to get comfortable, knees pressed against your chest, muttering a soft thank you while gingerly touching the rim of the cup.

(suguru frowns, just barely, at the sight. usually you’d sit right next to him. but now you’re in front of him, so very far — as if you’re strangers.

it breaks his heart, a little bit.)

a soft hum leaves your lips when you take a sip of the tea — all warm and comforting and minty on your tongue, a vague taste of something sweet. it’s relaxing, more than anything, and it makes you feel a little more okay with everything.

suguru only watches you, drinking absentmindedly from his own cup. not really tasting anything.

finally, he opts to clear his throat — and your attention falls on him instantly.

”hey,” he starts, ready to address the elephant in the room. his voice is gentle, but decisive, firm somehow. ”about before…”

your body tenses, ever so slightly, fingers uncurling around the handle of the teacup. there’s a kind of shift in the air around you, in suguru’s tone of voice — and you were expecting it, waiting for it anxiously, but that doesn’t make it any less harrowing.

here it comes, your mind seems to sing. here comes the moment everything shatters again.

with as much strength as you can muster, you smile. a little sheepish, just a tad forced, refusing to meet his eyes from across the table. staring into the murky green of your cup and hoping in vain that you can somehow escape this discomfort. 

(you just want to rest. you just want to not have to think about anything.)

”it’s fine, suguru,” you cut him off. softly, but there’s a certain tilt to your voice that strikes him as rather cold. ”we can just drop it.”

the decision in his eyes doesn’t waver. you look meek, awfully troubled, and he hates to force you into another discussion when you’re undoubtedly tired — but suguru’s mind is set. he’s been evasive enough, today.

”no. i want to talk about it properly.”

at that, you seem to deflate a little. suguru is nothing if not stubborn, a quality that always manages to coexist with his gentleness, his desire to be a good partner for you. you can tell he won’t allow you to wriggle away, now that you’re both finally calm. he’s not doing it to exhaust you, not doing it to gain some sort of satisfaction out of ”winning” the argument — he’s doing it because he knows it’s the right thing to do. even if it makes you both a little uncomfortable.

communication is important, immensely so. suguru knows it very well.

and you do, too.

so all you do is curl into yourself, shifting in your seat, allowing him to speak his mind and sipping quietly on your tea. biting back a disgruntled huff, gaze lingering on the tablecloth, little calico cats etched into the fabric. he wanted one with yellow stripes, but still bought this one just for you. just like the ugly matching couple mugs you forced him into buying, the green colour of your kitchen wallpaper. he always places you before himself.

(all you wanted was to change that. just for a night, if nothing else. and he got mad at you for it.)

suguru sighs. it sounds fatigued, not frustrated or disappointed. he runs a hand through his hair, and you can’t help but follow the movement, the soft silky strands and the way he smooths them over. practiced, familiar, absentminded. you could watch him do it forever.

”i had a lot of time to think while you were gone,” he begins, recalling the mental gymnastics he went through while you were away. just sitting on the couch and running himself ragged, trying to be impartial, trying to see your point of view without letting his own bias get in the way.

you sink a little further into the chair, eyes downcast. inhaling the scent of peppermint, trying to prepare yourself for what he might say, the ways this could all go wrong.

”and i realized that you were right.”

…

you blink. once, then twice.

hesitantly, you raise your head, searching for suguru’s gaze. he isn’t looking at you, staring out at the rainfall through the window as if in deep thought. his gaze shifts to meet yours, and something soft flickers through his golden eyes.

he looks troubled, though. trying to find the right words, mind clouded by guilt. chewing at his bottom lip anxiously.

it takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, to weigh the words in his mind, just to make sure he gets them across as smoothly as possible. he’s had more than enough time to verbalize his feelings, to think about what he wants to say to you. it was all he could do while he waited. 

so his voice is earnest, when he continues, sincerely apologetic and thought out.

”i’m always telling you not to overwork yourself. and here i am, doing the same thing…” another sigh. ”you were just worried. i shouldn’t have lashed out — you didn’t deserve that.”

suguru searches for your gaze, and manages to find it. you falter a little under the weight of his eyes, but they’re warm, remorseful. a setting sun.

”i’m sorry.”

a moment of silence passes. then two. three, five. you look down at your cup, the purple hyacinths etched into the porcelain. crumbling under his gaze, at the sound of his genuine apology. 

and suddenly, you feel silly — silly for being so scared, for thinking suguru might still be angry with you. for thinking he wouldn’t spend as much time as needed to properly think about your words, your feelings, even if he might not have been ready to do so when he first heard them.

suguru can be stubborn, if he’s convinced that he’s in the right. but he always, always seeks you out eventually, always makes sure to genuinely look at things from your perspective. 

and, really, it means everything. it means enough to wash away all your leftover irritation, from having him brush you off when you know you didn’t do anything wrong. all the leftover sadness from being pushed away, from not being allowed to take care of him the way he always does for you.

suguru isn’t perfect, but he tries harder than anyone you know. tries his very best to be as close to perfect as he can possibly get — for you, for the both of you. he’s considerate enough, mature enough to take the time he needs to properly communicate. that’s how much he loves you. 

and yes, doing so makes you a little uncomfortable. but when faced with something like that, someone so kind, who loves you like the rain loves the ground — how could you ever bear not to do the same?

”… it’s fine,” you start, softly. ”maybe i overreacted a bit. ’s just —” a gulp. you’re trying your best to verbalize your feelings, the way suguru just did, the way he always does.

and he waits, patiently. for as long as you need. looking at you from across the table softly, already immensely relieved at the lack of tension in the air.

”i don’t like seeing you so tired. i know that your work is important, and i support you, but…” your voice goes quiet, as you trail off, hoping he’ll understand what you mean. ”you know.”

and suguru does. he does understand, he always will. so he hums.

”i know,” he murmurs, softly. ”it wasn’t an overreaction. i just didn’t realize it myself. got too caught up in everything,” a sharp exhale leaves his lips. ”it’s been… a long week. i’m not using that as an excuse, though.”

you listen attentively, eyes softening at his words. you can tell that he means it, that you finally got your message across. all you wanted was for him to take a break, to take care of himself.

to let you take care of him.

suguru continues. he makes it a point to look into your eyes as he speaks — a little intimidating, especially in a situation like this — but you know it reassures him, that it lets him know you really understand what he’s trying to say. 

so you hold his gaze, as steady as you can, glancing down at his collarbone when it becomes just a little too much.

”i’m grateful that i have you,” he says, voice dripping with softness, gazing at you with a fondness that has you crumbling all over again. ”and that you care enough to set me straight when i need it.”

and suguru means it. he means it more than anything else. not once has he ever stopped appreciating you, all the things you do for him; always so sweet and caring, even when it’s subtle. this was no exception. you’re always worried, always looking out for him. he feels awful for getting so defensive. for pushing you away, when you were trying so earnestly to reach him.

but he’ll make up for all of that, starting now.

”i mean it. i appreciate you so much, you have no idea — i’m so sorry if i made you think otherwise.” for a moment, his eyes look a little glassy, swimming in remorse. ”i really, really am.”

(and when he looks at you like that, when he speaks so very gently —

how could you ever bear not to forgive him?)

you shift in your seat again. gazing down, chewing at your bottom lip. his honesty makes you falter, makes it hard for you not to do the same; even if your voice ends up sounding awfully tiny and awfully close to breaking apart. 

”… i was just worried,” you mumble, meekly, shooing away any tears you have left with rapid blinks. 

”i know,” suguru soothes. the smile on his face is genuine, comforting, honey and peppermint and warmth. ”i was being immature. you were right — i’ve been burning myself out.”

you don’t say anything. only letting his words console you, feeling yourself relax at the sound of him opening up a little. just enough to make everything all better again.

”i was thinking of taking tomorrow off,” he continues, searching for your timid gaze and smiling gently once he finds it. ”what do you say?”

you brighten a little, so obvious in the way you sit up straighter, the way something soft and hopeful blossoms in the scope of your iris. the sight coaxes suguru’s patient smile into widening a smidge, his eyes crinkling at your barely contained excitement.

”that’d be nice…” you murmur, averting your gaze once more. but suguru can tell you like the sound of that, that it’s exactly what would finally put your anxious mind at ease.

a smile, bright and fond. suguru opens his arms. 

”then i will.”

for a moment, you simply stare. at him, his outstretched limbs — that soft smile, as he waits for you to get the hint. and you blink. 

oh. 

you look down at your lap. a little sheepish, almost shy. it takes you another moment to raise your head, again, only to see another gentle flicker in suguru’s eyes — and then you finally get up from your seat.

it feels a little strange. a little awkward, as if some of your bones still can’t help but tread on eggshells, afraid of making him upset again. but it’s suguru, and he loves you, and his arms are waiting patiently to hold you.

and you want that more than anything. 

so you fall into his arms, softly, curling up in his lap and wrapping your arms around his waist. suguru has one hand on the back of your head and the other on the small of your back, rubbing comforting circles into your spine to make you relax.

it works wonders. despite your initial hesitance, you melt into the embrace without putting up a fuss — happy to be in his arms again, to feel the anxiety dissipate when you realize that everything’s finally alright.

and suguru is just as happy, just as content. breathing out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding. he strokes your hair lovingly, and you nuzzle into him a little more; making his lips quirk up, eyes filling with adoration. finally, he can relax. having you in his arms feels so soothing. and you’re so sweet, curling into him, seeking comfort and warmth that he’s more than happy to provide.

how long has it been since he had a chance to hold you like this? he made sure to be affectionate whenever he could, before leaving for work and after coming back — but in the midst of all the paperwork and stress…

suguru sighs, a little sadder this time, watching you bask in the attention he had been robbing you of this whole time. without even realizing it.

”and i’m sorry for neglecting you, too,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. muffled by your hair as he presses a kiss against the crown of your head.

that certainly gets your attention.

”neglecting me?” you sputter, eyes suddenly wide open and lips parted in disbelief. flustered, heat rushing to your neck and ears. ”wha — what am i, some high-maintenance puppy? you didn’t neglect me.”

suguru only chuckles, biting back a soft coo that he knows would only fluster you more. instead, he pulls away a little, just to look at you, and pecks your forehead softly.

”well, i’m sorry for not being around much, then. i’ll make it up to you. okay?”

hiding away in his collarbone, again, you mutter a soft okay that has suguru’s heart squeezing in his chest. he cradles you close, engulfs you in his embrace, and hopes you can feel his love through the action. hopes you can feel it in the way his arms fit around you like they were always meant to be right there.

and you do feel his love. feel it smooth away the leftover turmoil in your brain, caress your skin softly. it’s soothing, and comforting, and you feel so incredibly safe. here, in suguru’s embrace, with the sound of rain hitting the window and the scent of peppermint wafting through the kitchen — it’d be impossible not to relax.

before you know it, your eyelids have fluttered shut, breathing softening out and heartbeat slowing down. a peaceful rhythm, carrying you away. suguru notices it before you do.

”you sleeping, baby?”

you jolt a little in his arms — murmuring something unintelligible into his neck, and he only chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest like a soothing thunderstorm.

”c’mon. let’s get you to bed, hm?” 

suguru smooths a hand down your back, arms tightening around you before he scoops you up and gets up from his seat. ”there we go,” he hums, helping you hike your legs around his waist. ”you can sleep, angel. i’ve got you.”

your arms tighten around him, and you inhale his scent; grounding and comforting, raindrops and roses. tomorrow you can bask in it properly, can take care of him properly. you’ll coddle him all day.

but for now, you need to get some rest.

allowing your senses to dull away, clinging to suguru like a makeshift pillow, you absently listen to the storm still raging on outside. faraway, cold and harsh, but comforting when you’re in his steady grasp.

a yawn escapes your honey-soothed throat.

you don’t miss the i love you murmured into your ear, accompanying you into dreamland as your eyes flutter shut.

[churipu]

OUTFIT CHECK 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, iatdori yuuji x reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. jjk men being in love with you.

note. i'm back! i managed to fit in writing this in the middle of my midterms, i just finished my qualitative research paper for the midterms and i have 3 more take home exams to do. i hope you like this piece <33

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

you stood in front of the mirror, shifting your body from side to side, eying your reflection from different angles. raising a brow, you heaved out a soft sigh — before eventually twirling to face gojo who had been sitting on the edge of the bed. his icy blue eyes had been gazing at you for as long as you've been standing in front of the mirror against your reflection.

"'toru, do you think i look—"

gojo hushes you, putting a finger onto your lips, shutting you up immediately, "no, you don't look bad, and no your outfit doesn't look weird. you look beautiful," he rattles with a small smile.

"but i just feel like something's wrong with my combination," you said, stepping back to disperse from his finger, "like something's out of place. i just don't know what . . ."

gojo slipped an arm across your shoulder, turning your body to face your reflection, "i don't see anything wrong with your outfit or you, baby — you're really pretty . . . and i look pretty amazing too," he winked cheekily at the mirror, kissing the side of your face.

the male had been sitting on the edge of the bed, paying attention to you analyzing your own outfit for the past fifteen minutes. twirling here and there, stepping backwards and forwards cluelessly. the male didn't see anything wrong with your outfit or you, in fact, you looked absolutely stunning in his point of view.

his comment made you break a small smile.

"is this top too revealing?" you turn your back to the mirror, revealing a slight peek at your fragrant s/c skin.

"baby, baby," he scoffs, "i'm the strongest, i can fight, you know? and you look beautiful in that top, you should wear it often, yeah?" his slender fingers grazes over your exposed skin gently, sending shivers down your spine.

a string of laughter escaped your throat, "i love you, you know that?"

the male leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, "i love you more. no complaints."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

"do you think the top suits the bottom?" you asked nanami after changing into your third pants of the day — brows furrowed in frustration as nothing seemed to be clicking.

nanami raised his eyes from the book he had in his grasp, "you look beautiful," he complimented yet again for the third time.

"kento, how am i supposed to pick an outfit when you keep complimenting them all? help me pick one, will you?" nanami didn't understand why you were insistent on the 'mismatched' outfit (at least you think it is).

but in his eyes, everything seemed well-matched. he'd say it's a 11/10 for your ability to match these outfits of yours, "how? you look beautiful in them all."

groaning out, you raise two bags. a black and sage green bag, "pick one."

nanami inspected the two bags and then looked back at your outfit briefly, "the sage green one would fit perfectly with your outfit now," he pointed.

"okay. how about a jacket, do you think i'll need one?" you questioned, rummaging through the closet, "you always have a hunch of what i'd feel, it's your judgement."

he pondered your words for a bit, "take a jacket. forecast said it's going to be cold tonight, i don't want you getting sick."

you chuckled and bobbed your head, "right. anything else i should bring?"

"pepper spray."

"check."

"be careful, yes? call me if anything happens," nanami whispers, standing up from the bed — initially he wanted to come along with you to meet your friends. but he thought that he'd be a bother to you so he stopped himself from asking, "i love you so much."

"i love you more," you kissed his lips, to which he returned.

"let's drop you there, hm?" nanami grabs your hips, giving your flesh a slight squeeze, leading you out of the house.

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

"y/n, do you — oh, wow."

yuuji stood, a hand on the handle of the door he just opened and another on the doorway. his jaw dropped at the sight of you, his partner.

you stood in front of a mirror, blinking cluelessly at his reaction. not knowing whether it was his surprise because of how good you looked or the other way around, "yuuji? do i what?"

yuuji blinked himself back into reality, entering the room mutely, his back leaned onto the shut door, "where are you off to?"

shaking your head you gazed back at your reflection, "i'm just mix and matching for a hang out with nobara tomorrow, does this look funny?"

he shook his head harshly, "no, no, you look really nice! really pretty," yuuji honestly said before inhaling, you quite literally took his breath away.

"really? the color suits?" you asked, pinching the shirt you're wearing, "is the pants a bit too short?"

yuuji stood still, "no . . . you — wow, you just look so pretty y/n. i don't know what else to tell you . . ." he whispers, entranced by your figure as he detached his back from the door to approach you.

mustering out a smile, you gave him a hug, "thanks yuuji, you're the best."

he nuzzled his nose into your hair, "you're so beautiful," yuuji mumbled before kissing the crown of your head.

all of a sudden, yuuji pulls back, his face stern and a frown on his face, "how come you're going out with kugisaki and i'm not invited?" he asks you, narrowing his eyes.

"baby, i promise it's just me and her. i'll get you something special on the way back and then we can watch movies? your pick." you pinched his cheeks gently.

"any movies?"

you nod, "any movies."

"okay! deal." yuuji beams out, kissing your cheek.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[bunnybubae]

☔This and more

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: One Shot - Established Relationship - Slice of Life - Fluff - Smutty Smut 

Summary: Your weekend at the beach seems to be completely ruined, but luckily, your boyfriend Jeon Jungkook is ready to change everything. 

Warnings: A delicious lunch and a drink at home, they call each other bubi and baby, Bf&Gf shenanigans,✨surprises✨, overall a tooth rotting piece of fluff served with a side of hot steamy smut *wink wink*, the end ❤️

Smut Warnings: Lots of steamy kisses, teasing, love bites, actual bites, dirty talking, worshiping, fingering, oral (F receiving), brief blowjob, rough sex, unprotected sex (she takes the pill), cum on breasts, love making 💓, creampie

Wc: 5.6k 

A/N:  Hiii!🫣I know I should be working on the Red Light series, I promise it's wip and will come to life sooner or later, but I miss my boyfriend who's traveling for work and the weather is shit over here... I had this idea in my docs and I just felt inspired to finally write it. I hope you like it! 🥺 - Joy 🐰

The sun is scorching and the sky is always clear. People wear light clothes and have fun outside. This is summer, right?

Wrong.

Not this weekend at least, since the weather forecast predicted heavy rain until Sunday.

This weekend, in which you had plans with your boyfriend and your friends to spend it at the beach, with tents, lots of food and beach games. Everything ruined, since the first thunder that rumbled.

You wouldn't have been so upset about it if it weren't for the fact that work has been a living hell lately and that you really were looking forward to this outdoor weekend. Even if it was only for a few days, you really wanted to regenerate and disconnect from everything work related.

The sky is so gray, almost black, like your mood right now.

It's Saturday morning and usually, you and Jungkook leave shortly after breakfast to go grocery shopping, when, presumably, there are less people and it is easier to find what you need for the week. As if the bad weather wasn't badding enough, something seems to have hurt your boyfriend, who reluctantly told you that he can't come with you.

You sigh deeply, it couldn't go worse, you think, but maybe it's just your bad mood's fault for these thoughts.

You worry about Jungkook as you look for a spot in the supermarket parking lot. You text him once you find one, asking if he needs medicine or anything else for his stomachache, but he reassures you shortly after, replying that some lactic ferments will do the job.

You continue to stare at his response on the screen thoughtfully, maybe last night's fried chicken was too spicy?

Anyway, the temperature has dropped a lot because of the weather. You put on one of Jungkook's sweatshirts and get ready by putting the hood on before going out to reach the supermarket.

You spend about a couple of hours inside, looking for everything you had on your list.

As you’re about to reach the checkout, with a full cart and the only desire to go home, your phone rings.

It’s a text from Jungkook.

Bubi ❤️: “Bubi could you please buy some fresh mint and lemons while u'r out?”

You check his request a second time, not too sure you understand.

You stop in your tracks, frowning as you type a response.

You: “What do you need them for?”

You watch the chat and his name as it appears and disappears shortly after, waiting for his response, which comes a few moments later.

Bubi❤️: “I read somewhere that making tea with mint and lemon helps calm a stomach ache and I wanna try.”

You're not too convinced but It makes sense, if you think about it.

You reply that you'll get mint and lemons and that you'll go to the pharmacy before you head back home.

It’s almost lunchtime when you park the car in front of the apartment complex where you live.

The rain shows no signs of ceasing, continuing to pound on the windshield of the car. 

When you’re about to get out to grab the groceries from the trunk, you see your boyfriend come out of the front door of the building and reach to your car door with a little jog.

He’s holding an open umbrella in his hand and when he opens the car door to let you out, he smiles widely.

“What are you doing out here?!”

“Let’s carry everything to the elevator together,”

And with that, he leaves a tender kiss on your forehead, a little damp from the rain.

You had forgotten your umbrella at home, despite his warnings. Too caught up in the greyness of your mood, evidently.

Once you have emptied your trunk and reached the elevator with the grocery bags in hand, you sigh loudly. A little tired from the weight of the bags and a little guilty for your state of mind.

He's always so helping and sweet and you have been quite intractable since yesterday. You feel the need to apologize to him.

Jungkook looks at you in silence, a slight smile on his lips as he plays with the piercing of his lip with his tongue.

"I'm sorry, bubi..." You break the silence, taking him by surprise.

"Mh? For what?"

You watch him as you explain why you really needed this weekend away to rest and relax a bit.

Jungkook nods, listening to you until your elevator ride stops at your floor.

"I know baby, don't worry."

The elevator's doors slide open.

It seems he wants to say something else, but he picks up the bags instead and starts to walk towards the front door of your apartment.

You follow him with the bags in your hand, feeling a little lighter and determined not to ruin this weekend any further.

Jungkook opens the door, gets rid of his shoes in the blink of an eye, leaving them near the shoe rack before running towards the kitchen. You don't understand what's gotten into him all of a sudden and when you enter, you put the bags down next to you to take off your shoes and tidy up his too.

When Jungkook returns a few moments later, he picks up your discarded bags too and rushes into the kitchen with them.

"What are you doing?"

You know very well that your boyfriend has these energetic outbursts from time to time, like the good golden retriever boyfriend he is.

He doesn't answer, instead you see him come back towards you, slightly out of breath.

“Ook, so,” He begins, catching his breath.

“I know this weekend at the beach meant a lot to you, especially after spending the last 3 months working non-stop,” 

His hands find yours and squeeze gently as he guides you through the small hallway of your entryway.

“And I know how much you need this, so,” He pauses, making you stop your tracks right in front of him as well.

“I’m sorry I made you go grocery shopping alone with this weather.”

He moves aside, allowing you to see what he was trying to hide behind his back.

The couch has been moved against the wall, the big carpet is adorned with countless children's toys, the classic ones for digging or making shapes in the sand and you notice an inflatable ball and some beach towels hidden under a beach umbrella.

The living room didn't seem that big, yet everything seems to fit in effortlessly. 

You don't know what to say exactly, you observe everything with wide eyes and open mouth as Jungkook continues his speech.

"I know it's not the same thing, but-" You don't even give him time to finish the sentence, that your lips crash against his, your hands holding his face still as you kiss his mouth softly.

Initially surprised, Jungkook gives in in a split second, wrapping his arms around your small figure.

You let him hold you as a few tears threaten to escape your eyes.

You part from his lips just for a moment. 

"So you didn't have diarrhea," And with that, you both burst into laughter in each other's arms as a small tear rolls down your face for the gratitude.

You are truly touched by the effort he put into it, by the love that hides such a gesture.

The laughter stops and your eyes lock. Jungkook caresses your cheek, wiping away that small, solitary tear.

"Thank you, babe..." Your tone is sweet and full of love and gratitude for him.

"This and more for you,"

He grabs one of your hands that are still holding his face and brings it to his lips, he kisses your knuckles with such delicacy before he moves away from you.

"Anyway, you don't look like you're dressed for the beach, why don't you go change while I sort out the groceries?"

You look down at yourself and giggle, even though it's not that hot, the idea of ​​indulging in this little indoor beach is thrilling, you nod, telling him he's right, then you turn around, heading to your bedroom.

"No! Wait!"

Jungkook suddenly exclaims, making you stop in your tracks.

"I moved the bag you had packed to the bathroom, so you can change right there!"

"Oh okay, I'll take the chance to take a quick shower, then."

You reach the bathroom, getting ready to shower before you could finally wear your new bikini.

During your shower you can't help but smile at the idea that you're about to spend some time at the beach, without the beach, and the sun, and the sea. It's amusing. 

Once cleaned and smelling nice, you put on your lilac bikini and its matching beach dress, fix your hair a bit and go back to the living room.

You don't remember seeing the TV on when you came in, but the sound of the waves envelopes you immediately. 

On the TV, a high definition video of the waves lapping the beach repeats over and over and it's yet another detail that makes you smile. Jungkook has really thought of everything.

He's not in the living room, though.

You walk towards the kitchen, smelling something nice as you near the door.  When you enter, you find your shirtless sexy boyfriend in front of the stove as he cooks something. 

"Damn, that smells good," The kitchen is filled with the smell of fresh fish and lemon, it's so mouth-watering.

"That's what you needed the lemon for!"

You giggle as you approach him from behind, wrapping your arms around his hips and leaving a light kiss on his shoulder as you watch his movements.

"I just watched a tutorial, I hope it turns out good."

He moves in your arms, turning around so he can observe your figure.

He hums delighted by what he sees.

The swimsuit hugs your curves perfectly and the beach dress semi-transparent fabric allows Jungkook to admire and go wild in his mind, with that see-through effect that makes him crazy.

You know exactly what's going through his mind right now. You can read it in his expression.

Despite the many years of relationship with him, the passion and attraction between you has always been strong, never faltering.

Jungkook has always worshiped your body in every possible way. 

And his carnal gaze, which gently caresses your curves, is proof of that.

It's unbelievable how one single look from him is enough to make you feel like the most beautiful thing in this world.

“You like it?”

You ask innocently, spinning around so he can look at beautiful ass as well.

He hums in agreement, “It’ll look great on the floor later.”

And it’s not the phrase that makes your legs feel weak, but the tone of his voice. Warm and provocative, just the way you like it.

He steals a kiss that’s way too innocent to justify the burning sensation in your belly, before turning his attention back to the stove.

“You should cook shirtless more often,” 

You try to speak, trying to sound unaffected, while your hands nonchalantly caress his pecs from behind, going down to his abs.

He chuckles softly, perfectly knowing what you're up to.

You love every single detail of his body. You swear you know by heart every groove and bump and yet the intensity of your yearning surprises you every time.

You sigh, trapping your lip between your teeth, unable to stop your hands from free roaming on his soft skin.

He is so addicting.

"Y/N.." Your name leaves his lips accompanied by a deep breath.

Your hands have the same effect that his skin has on you.

"What?"

You ask, not missing the contractions of his muscles under your touch when your hands tease his belly, just above the waistband of his swimsuit.

Jungkook turns off the stove and pushes the food away.

Then he turns around, and his face is now a few inches from yours.

In one quick and agile movement, he picks you up, letting your legs circle his bare waist. 

A deep breath escapes your mouth as his chest touches yours and a second later you're sitting on the countertop, its coldness briefly soothing your heat.

"You can't do that while I'm cooking,"

He lets out, then he urgently dives forward, peppering the thin skin of your neck with languid kisses..

You almost moan at the touch. 

"Why not,"

You ask, hoping your voice doesn't sound too desperate right now.

"Cause I'd have to fuck you hard and quick, right here on this countertop,"

You tilt your head backwards, allowing him to do as he pleases with your neck.

"And,"

He pauses, licking a long, slow stripe, from your collarbone to the skin below your earlobe.

"Even tho I know how much you love to be fucked like that,"

He softly kisses your jawline, then whispers right to your ear and your insides turn into boiling lava.

"I want to take my time with you, I want to taste you and savor every drop of your juice when I make you come."

His hands are nowhere on your body, you're only trapped between his arms that keep his weight slightly lean on you. And yet, your skin feels so hot, like his voice and words are washing the last bit of sanity away, leaving goosebumps all over you.

You gulp, unable to speak as you try to calm your breathing.

You love this man, you think you never stopped crushing over him, you're a total mess right now, by only his words and kisses on the neck.

"Fuck baby.."

You manage to say, even though your voice sounds strained.

"Be patient, yeah?"

And just like that, the magic is over.

He frees you, leaving your body hot and bothered just like that.

You whine a little, a sound that makes him chuckle darkly, probably proud of the effect he still has on you. 

You're a tad bit annoyed, you're not gonna lie, but the excitement for what's to come prevails.

After having lunch with some delicious lemony fish, you and Jungkook decide to enjoy some relaxation lying on the beach towels placed on the floor in front of the TV. The mint cocktails you made earlier rest next to you, while some music plays casually from your phone.

You have to admit that the whole vibe is working very well, you don't even miss the sand and the smell of saltiness in the air. Everything feels just right, with the man you love by your side.

The apartment isn't that big, but everything Jungkook has prepared for the theme seems to fit perfectly, without being too bulky.

You take a moment to observe your surroundings, while sipping your drink every now and then.

You notice that there is enough space between the towels and the television, so you decide to grab the Nintendo Switch from its dock, and place it in front of you.

"Wanna play?"

Jungkook, who seems far too relaxed on his towel, is drawn in by your playful tone, he smiles nodding before grabbing a pair of joycons.

"What do you wanna play?"

You think for a moment, as you scroll through the games you have, undecided between Just Dance, volleyball, which might be the most suitable for the beach mood, or WarioWare, which as stupid as it is, never fails to make you laugh.

"We could play some volleyball to begin with, what do you say?"

"I'm down,"

You make some space and strap your joy con, just to be sure you don't crash anything while playing.

The games go smoothly and match after match and sip after sip of your drinks, you grow dizzier. 

By the time you start playing Wario Ware, you both are a laughing mess, seeing your boyfriend copy those funny poses is the highlight of the day.

Your cheeks are hurting from the laugh and you don't even know what time it is while the rain keeps pouring outside.

The sound of sporadic thunder is a soft reminder that what is going on outside, doesn't bother you at all. 

Especially now, embraced in your boyfriend's arms, skin to skin, as the center of your living room becomes the center of your world.

He kisses you, ever so gently, as his mouth moves with yours in a dance they know oh so well.

You bet his lips shared some secrets with yours as when you part from each other for a moment, you both smile fondly. As if no words are needed.

The way he's looking at you makes you feel so lucky.

You feel so precious when he touches you, so cherished.

His hands are so tender and attentive, he outlines your sides, pushing his body to yours as if it was possible to feel you even closer.

The game is long forgotten as you share another kiss, less innocent than the previous one.

Your hands bravely caress his shoulders and nape before intertwining with some soft locks.

Some music is still playing from your phone, thrown somewhere on the carpet when suddenly, As Long As You Love Me by Justin Bieber starts playing. 

A pretty old song, but you remember you saved the acoustic version a long time ago, when you two weren't even a thing.

It couldn't be more apt for this moment in time, you think.

Your smile breaks the kiss and even though you feel your head a little heavy from the alcohol, you start singing.

He watches you fondly, swinging with you in his arms to the rhythm as he begins to sing the song with you.

His voice is heaven, you always told him that and he likes to sing for you. Although the shower or the car are his favorite stages most of the time.

You keep singing your heart out, pouring all your love in the lyrics as your gaze gets lost in his.

You've always been the sensitive type, especially in this kind of situation.

Your boyfriend seems as affected as you, though.

His gaze is glimmering and his embrace is tighter than before.

The song slowly but surely comes toward its end when Jungkook softly leans forward, whispering the last phrase right on your lips.

Your heart feels like it's about to burst in your chest and a moment later you're kissing him, like your life depends on it.

He lets you kiss him, lets you taste his tongue and maybe it's the alcohol, maybe the whole vibe, but you end up sprawled on the beach towels, kissing each other's brains out.

The beach umbrella, placed open on the ground for obvious reasons, offers some sort of shield from the artificial light of the lamp. The light filters through the colored material, leaving a soft hue of colors on your bodies.

You don't know where your beach dress has been thrown, the only thing in your mind right now, is your boyfriend's kisses.

He prints wet kisses all over your body and you feel like you're burning.

You breathe heavily, concentrating on the sensations of his lips on your abdomen.

"So fucking pretty,"

He states, seemingly out of breath. You shiver in pleasure as your heart skips a beat.

His hands reach your bikini bottom and you almost moan shamelessly as he asks,

"Are you already wet for me, baby?"

Then he pushes your bikini aside, not waiting for your answers, wanting to find out himself.

"Fuck, yes"

It's the only phrase that leaves your gaping mouth as he swipes his fingers between your legs.

You can feel the stickiness of your bikini and his breath right in front of your core.

"Want me to make you even wetter?

A soft yes leaves your lips, barely audible.

"Speak up, baby,"

It's a lewd scene, your legs are wide open in front of him and Jungkook is palming himself with his free hand. His swimming trunks are an uncomfortable obstacle but it's something he'll deal with later.

His attention is only focused on you right now.

"Kook-"

You moan as his wet fingers circle your clit.

"I want your tongue," you confess "Make me come on your tongue,"

You breathe out as your hands move over your tits, sliding under the fabric of your bikini top.

"Fuck, I love when you talk to me like that,"

He groans, and a moment later, he is giving in, licking your folds, sucking your clit, just as you like it. He knows it's going to make you a moaning mess before him.

He wasn't lying before, he is taking his sweet time savoring you, fucking you slowly with his tongue, then circling your clit and sucking on it every now and then.

When your body reacts at the waves of pleasure his motions are providing, he laughs darkly, the vibration of it a sweet addition to your pleasure.

Your body trembles, your orgasm building up at every french kiss he gives your pussy and you think you're going insane.

Your moans are louder, turning to sweet little whine when you know you're about to reach your high.

"I'm close, fuck, don't stop,"

As if he needed you to tell him not to stop.

Jungkook is quick to react, pushing with ease his middle and ring finger inside you.

The new stimulation makes you cry out in pleasure and he is so turned on by your sounds, he thinks he might bust in his swimming suit just with that.

"Love this pussy,"

He says, voice deep and steady.

"Can't wait to fuck you just right,"

And just like that, the built up tension in your belly snaps and a strong orgasm washes over you.

His hands, his words, the picture of his pretty cock slamming into your pussy, sends you over the edge. 

You let out a moan that sounds like his name and your hands move from your tits to brush his hair. 

You're still trembling from your orgasm when you open your eyes, not sure when you closed them and all you see is your boyfriend, hair disheveled, sucking on his wet fingers like a lollipop. 

His dark gaze meets your dazed eyes and he smiles, way too innocently considering the lustful motions of his tongue.

"God," you blurt out,  trying to regain a stable breathing, "Why are you still wearing that?"

You point at his bottom half, moving a second later to help him freed himself from the useless piece of clothing.  

His dick springs free, hungry and leaking some precum.

You hum, licking your lips as if you were a starved woman, ready to devour her meal. 

When you grab the base of his thick member and move to lick it, Jungkook surprisingly blocks your hand gently.

You frown, looking up mid motion, puzzled.

"I won't be able to hold back much longer if you suck me,"

His voice is almost apologetic and you tenderly smile, finding his confession hot and endearing at the same time.

"Just a little?"

You put up your best pleading eyes, softly adding, "Please?"

Jungkook's eyes roll back as he bites his lip and a deep breath leaves through his nostrils.

You know he likes when you beg for it.

While you scream in pleasure or with big innocent eyes, he just loves when you ask nicely, like a good girl.

He can't resist you.

He could never resist those pretty eyes of yours.

He shifts in his place, allowing you to get on your knees before grabbing your chin, ever so gently.

"Be a good girl then and open wide."

You smile in content, doing just as he asked, opening your mouth as wide as you can and sticking out your tongue.

When you look up at him, Jungkook slowly puts his fingers inside your mouth, and your faint taste still lingers in them. 

You suck and lick on them for a second, then when he pulls them out, he smears your saliva along his sensitive dick. 

His breaths are heavy and when he slams it a couple of times on your tongue he groans.

That's when he loses it a little. 

He grabs your jaw, helping you tilt your head at the right angle, then pushes the tip inside. 

You do your best by swirling your tongue around the salty tip, closing your lips around it just enough for him to feel a little pressure.

By the time you pop your lips open, he pushes a little more in, enough to stuff your mouth.

You instinctively bob your head, trying to get more of him inside and when a moan escapes his throat, you know he will stop you soon.

You take the opportunity to tease him a little, grabbing at his butt and fondling the soft skin of it as he sloppily thrusts.

Jungkook's sounds are animalistic, his thrusts are steady but right before he pulls out completely, he gives one last thrust that almost hits the back of your throat.

You gasp for air as he gently pushes you back down on the beach towel.

He swiftly takes your bikini away, both the bottom and the top, and latches his plumb lips to one of your breasts.

The coldness of his piercing mixed with his hot breath is a nice contrast for your perked up nipples.

You hiss when he bites the sensitive nub, but he quickly eases the pain away by kissing and lapping at the abused skin.

"Kook-"

A broken moan leaves your throat when he bites you again, this time on the delicate meat of your breast. It's softer than before, but you feel hyper responsive right now. 

"Can I come here?"

He whispers, leaving a trail of wet kisses all over your chest.

You giggle, feeling a little ticklish when his fingers travel down your sides.

"Why are you asking?" you pull him closer till his cock is leaning between your folds.

The contact sends shivers down to your core and you buck your hips almost automatically.

"You know I love it, Kook"

He just needed to hear you say that aloud, that's clear when pushes up a little, aligning the tip of his member with your entrance. 

"You love it, huh? Thought you loved it more inside you tho,"

He pushes in, inch by inch as he finishes his phrase.

You gasp at the sweet stretch, feeling breathless as he bottoms up.

"I love it down my throat too,"

That makes him go feral. 

It's all you're able to say before he props up on his elbow, one hand behind your shoulder, the other clasped around your hip to keep you there as he fucks you at a ruthless pace.

You're fucking on the floor, on a beach towel, shielded by a beach umbrella with Wario Ware long forgotten on the tv and some music shuffling from your phone, meanwhile outside it's pouring and thundering since this morning.

It might seem a messy situation, but everything feels at his place.. Nothing is missing here.

Every thrust elicits soft moans from you. He promptly kisses you, and as you make out you wrap your arms around him, trying to pull him closer and closer.

That allows him to jack hammer into you with measured force. 

The squelching sounds are filling the room, followed by his throaty moans and yours.

You're about to come once again, the pressure on your stomach well fed by the way his cock is hitting on the right spot inside you.

"Kook," you cry out, "I'm about to-"

"Me too baby," he pecks your lips before he adds, "Let me feel you come all over my cock,"

His hips slap against yours impossibly fast, just as fast as your orgasm approaches.

Your body stiffens and after a few seconds there it is, the sweet release, the white pleasure that washes over you.

You cry out his name repeatedly, till your cry subside to a moan and you feel his thrusts getting sloppier and erratic.

"Fuck, yes, I'm coming too,"

And he pulls out quickly, kneeling between your trembling legs before he pumps his fist around his drenched dick a few times before hot spurts of his cum lands on your body.

He moans shamelessly and you love when he gets all vocal, it turns you on even though you feel totally devastated right now.

He covers your breasts in sticky white and some of it lands on your chin too.

You don't mind, not when he looks so blissed and fucked out.

When he empties his load completely, he watches you, admiring his masterpiece and offering you a hand.

He chuckles breathlessly and pecks your lips as he pulls you up.

"Let's take a shower, shall we?"

You nod, not sure if you're able to speak right. 

You make sure to turn off the tv and the music on your phone before you head straight to the bathroom.

Jungkook offers to wash you up first and you let him do it.

It's obviously not the first time you shower together, but it doesn't happen that often either.

You wash up each other, giggling and chatting like he was not balls deep inside you just moments ago.

By the time you finish your shower and dry up, it's dinner time.

You enjoy your evening eating the food you thoroughly prepared beforehand right on the floor, because yes, Jungkook refused to put away the beach towels saying that "Our beach experience is not over yet". 

Even though you shake your head in defeat, you chuckle, amused by his determination.

The evening went by in total relaxation, you're curled up on your boyfriend's side as another episode of Demon's Slayer flashes on the tv screen. The air is chilly right now and you feel the fatigue of the day get the better of you. 

"Wanna go to bed after this episode?"

He asks, noticing your breathing is getting heavier.

You fell asleep a couple of times for a few minutes, trying to keep track of what you're watching when you woke up, but it's kind of frustrating.

You hum in agreement, stretching your back a little.

When the episode comes to its end, Jungkook stands up from the ground and leaves the living room. You walk up to the window, curious to see the state of the world outside.

Perhaps you hoped to see a clear sky, but unfortunately you were disappointed.

It's still raining, though it's not pouring like this afternoon. Droplets of water are slamming on the glass in a soft lullaby.

It's soothing somehow and you take a moment to take in the different effect the rainy weather has on you right now, compared to this morning.

Strong arms circle your waist and a soft peck on your head draws your attention away from the window. 

"There's another surprise for you,"

He whispers right in your ear before you turn around to look into his eyes.

Your arms find their place around his neck and you look at him, intrigued.

"Another one?"

He grins at your curiosity, pulling you towards the bedroom just a moment later.

When you enter the room, you're welcomed by his favorite galaxy lamp while it projects purple and blue hue up on the roof. 

Small green dots serve as little stars, scattered all around as they are slow dancing and a camping tent about the size of the bed is placed on top of it.

You're shocked, unable to speak as emotions get stuck in your throat, you inspect the room with teary eyes, touched by all his effort to make this weekend just perfect.

"Do you like it?"

He tentatively asks, watching your reaction by the frame of the door.

When you turn around you quickly reach out to him, hugging him so tight you think you might break his spine.

You softly sob on his chest as he returns the hug, kissing the top of your head affectionately and when you finally look up at him with a wide smile, Jungkook breaks in the softest laugh you have ever heard from him.

"It's perfect," you state, "You are perfect,"

Jungkook's gaze fills with all the love he has for you, a gaze that doesn't need words and after he dried away your salty tears, you kiss him passionately. 

Nothing could ever compare to this moment, to this little piece of heaven he created for just the two of you, under a starry sky that belongs to you and him and no one else.

You poured all your love on every inch of his body, tasted his soft skin and marked it as yours.

He did the same to you, making sure your body was worshiped as it deserves.

That night, you made love like nothing existed outside of your camping tent, it was only you and him, becoming one as your soft moans mingled in the room.

It was gentle, like the time was no longer flowing until slowly but surely, you reached your high together, hugging each other as he came inside you.

You felt full of him, in every sense possible as he softly kissed your forehead and you whispered the sweetest I love you in the air.

You cuddled to sleep, refusing to leave your tent to go wash up and when the morning after you woke up between your boyfriend's arms, you knew another beautiful day on a sandless beach awaited.

Another day with the love of your life, in your little perfect world.

[sommerbueckers]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐞𝐝

___________________________________________________________

✰ 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮

✰ 𝐰𝐜 :: 𝟐𝐤

✰ 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭...𝐰𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

___________________________________________________________

EVERYTHING WAS EXACTLY HOW it was supposed to be. All the guests had arrived on time and were clad in an array of pastel colors, the menu had been carefully crafted to cater to everyone's dietary restrictions, and the weather was forecasted to be warm and sunny throughout the entirety of the day. You should've been ecstatic, and yet you could hardly breathe.

You sat hunched over in a chair, a worn bucket positioned in front of you in case you needed to vomit. Tears welled in your eyes, on the verge of spilling down your cheeks and ruining your meticulously applied makeup. The prospect of falling ill just moments before walking down the aisle was a dreadful scenario, yet you couldn't compose yourself. You clutched your hand to your chest, your face contorting in a painful grimace.

"I can't do this..." you mumbled, more so to yourself than to the other women in the room, your bridesmaids, "I can't do it."

Your best friend, and maid of honor, had been at your side since the moment you started feeling sick. Her hand hadn't left your back, soothingly rubbing up and down as she barked orders at everyone. It was always like her to take charge and ensure things remained intact when you started to crumble, it was the reason you two worked so well together. It was the reason you could trust her to put you back together whilst you sat still and helpless.

"Somebody get Paige," she said aloud.

"No!" you cried, looking frantically at her, "No, no I don't want her to see me like this, she can't."

"Honey," she wore a look of sympathy as she spoke to you, "you gotta breathe. I'm gonna leave and she's gonna come in here, you're gonna be fine."

You could only nod in response. Morgan had always been adept at reassuring you, persuading you that everything was fine even when it felt like your world was unraveling. As the room gradually emptied, leaving just the two of you, you finally gave in to the tears, allowing the warm droplets to slowly trickle down your face.

Morgan held you tightly, her own eyes pricking with tears at the sight of her best friend in shambles.

You felt frustrated with yourself. Today was meant to be the happiest day of your life; after seven years of dreaming about it, you and Paige were finally getting married. It was the start of a new chapter you had eagerly anticipated. Yet here you were, on the verge of ruining everything because you couldn't manage your emotions. Why couldn't you just get a grip? Why couldn't you just focus on everything good that was to come instead of everything that could go wrong?

What if this doesn't work out?

What if she falls out of love?

What if she feels like you're trapping her?

Paige could hear your sobs through the door, and her own nerves rose at the mere sound of it. She hadn't been told why you were crying, all she knew was that you had refused to leave the room multiple times. Her hands shook as she grabbed the doorknob, twisting it open to reveal you and Morgan sitting in the corner. She could've sworn she felt her heart break in that moment, she had never seen you this pained.

Morgan stood to her feet, placing a kiss to your temple before approaching Paige at the door.

"What happened?" Paige whispered with furrowed brows, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Morgan and you.

"I have no clue," she shook her head, "she said she couldn't breathe and then she just broke down...I don't know what to do Paige." It was the first time in her entire life that Morgan had no idea how to calm you down, she was beginning to panic as well.

"I got it," Paige reassured her, watching her leave and then shutting the door after her.

As she carefully approached you, she could hear you mumbling frenziedly into your hands. Your bouquet was on the ground beside you, a combination of pink and white hibiscuses all tied together with a blush colored bow. The two of you had gone out to pick them yourselves, Paige wanted them to be just right for you. They were perfect, everything was perfect, why were you crying?

"'M'sorry," you sobbed, "'m'so sorry."

She comfortingly wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer to her.

"What happened baby? Tell me what's wrong," she whispered.

"I can't do it," you repeated for the second time that day.

"Can't do what?" she frowned. She didn't want to jump to conclusions, to assume that by 'I can't do it' you meant marrying her. She couldn't lose you, she wouldn't.

"What if...if this is a mistake?" you panted, avoiding her eyes as she fought to catch yours. "What if later on you meet somebody else or you realize that i'm not enough for you?"

It was then that she realized this wasn't about you at all, it was about her. You were scared that she was getting cold feet, that she was having second thoughts, that her mind wasn't made up. She held you closer to her, kissing the top of your head as her own tears began to fall. She wondered if it had been something she had done to convince you that she wasn't all about you, that she wouldn't pick you in a room full of every other woman in the world.

She pulled away from you to get a better look at your face, holding either side of your face with her hands. "Stop talking like that, stop. That shit is never gonna happen and I know that for a fact. I can sit up here right now and tell you that falling out of love with you is several levels above impossible."

You blinked out more tears, staring silently at her as she professed her undying love for you.

"I am so in love with you it scares me. Every day that I wake up and can't be with you because i'm away for basketball or i'm out with some friends or anything else, all I do is think about you. And even when i'm with you, i'm still thinking about you. I can't even keep my hands off of you, like i'd need to be physically restrained for that to happen. You make me wanna do things i've never done before like jump out of a plane or swim in that little ass cage with the sharks around it because all I wanna do it impress you. I want you to stare at me with those big brown eyes and tell me how much you love me, and I wanna record your laugh so I can listen to it on repeat whenever you're not around.

I want you to force me to watch romcom movies that you've seen a thousand times and are only watching again because you want me to see them. I wanna come home really late at night and find you sleeping on the couch in my clothes because you missed me, and then in the morning I want you to tell me how you tried to stay up to see me when I came home. I'm planning to take you to all the countries that you've dreamed about visiting and just haven't had the time yet. I'm gonna be front row at your med school graduation with a huge poster of your face that blocks everyone behind me from seeing you. I wanna go back and forth with you over what to name our first kid, and I wanna combine all of our money so we can build an obnoxiously big house.

I swear to God, and I never swear to him so that's how you know I'm being so serious, I'll be damned if I spend my life with anyone other than you. Nobody else is worth my time. All I need is you baby, that's fucking it."

You and Paige were bawling together, both of your makeup needing desperately to be redone. It would push the wedding back for sure, but that didn't matter now, Paige loved you.

You pulled her in for a kiss, ignoring the way both of your tears were mixing together. She wouldn't touch anything other than your arms, not wanting to ruin your dress.

"I love you. I'm not leaving this spot until you understand that," Paige said firmly.

You nodded your head, swallowing the lump in your throat that had begun to shrink since the moment Paige stepped in here.

"I understand it."

"Do you still wanna do this?"

You shook your head, watching intently as Paige let out a sigh but nodded nonetheless.

"I'm kidding! Fuck, let's fucking do this!"

Paige playfully pushed your shoulder, narrowing her eyes as she stood up. "I'm gonna go grab that fancy makeup lady and tell her to get you right, and then i'm telling Morgan to work her magic and impress everybody with one of her weird talents to buy us time," she explained quickly, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes! I'm fine, now go and fix the mess I made," you laughed.

She placed another quick peck on your lips, hurrying out of the room and leaving you alone with your thoughts again. This time however, they were a thousand times more collected than before. You laughed at yourself, you were silly to second guess Paige's love for you. She had never, not once, given you a reason to. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your face was a wreck and it'd take a miracle to hide the swelling of your eyes. But again, none of that mattered.

Paige loved you.

___________________________________________________________

[strawberriesoup]

umbrella٠࣪⭑

── .✦ A sudden storm causes your evening plans with Jisung to be canceled.

word count: 1.8k

genre: fluff/angst, jisung x female reader, established relationship, comfort

warnings: cursing, crying, reader has a hard time vocalizing her feelings, kisses, super fluffy, jisung is best boyfriend, hugs

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Normally, the slight pitter patter of rain tapping at your window wouldn’t bother you so much. The droplets racing down the glass were usually your cue to brew up some tea and clear your mind whilst watching the headlights of cars whoosh by on the street far below.

Right now your mind is anything but clear. You pull your hand away from the window, leaving a print of condensation behind as the chill in the air picks up, warning of the upcoming storm.

If nothing else, the weather instills in you a newfound hate for the weatherman and his deceitful games.

Why did everything have to go wrong? First your dinner plans with Jisung were canceled because of “renovations” and now this? The forecast predicts thunderstorms the rest of the day and through the night as well. The rain and your mood are getting worse by the minute.

You miss him. You just want to see him. Is that really too much to ask? But the universe— like always—has different plans.

It was about two months now since you had met Jisung. You had been thirsting over his best friend, Minho, and Jisung had stepped in as your wingman. Needless to say, you weren’t so interested in Minho anymore after getting to know Jisung.

Technically, you met him at a party — said party you had only attended to stalk Minho— so your first impressions of Jisung were understandably questionable. Come to find out later that his friend group forced him there and he’s actually just a cheesecake-loving homebody who’s afraid of pigeons (“Those damn birds know too much”) and likes the show Nana a little more than he probably should.

He’s cute as hell though.

Your couch squeaks as you throw yourself down on it. That stupid squeaking. It incites more violence in you than it probably should, and you take that as a sign to take a deep breath and try to think positively.

Unfortunately you just end up thinking of Jisung and how, if he were here, he would be able to cheer you up with one of his stupid jokes and that goddamn pretty smile. Ugh.

Should you call him? Would asking him to come over be too much? It was raining exponentially hard and he probably wouldn’t want to bother. There’s always another day. But still. Your mind is hyper-fixated on the thought of him, his presence, his laughter, the way his eyes seem to sparkle when he rants about his latest obsession…

Fuck this. You’ll just go over to his place.

By now, the downpour is in full swing and practically roaring against the side of the building, the sound blocking out even the rush of traffic building on the road below. You feel a chill run through your limbs at the thought of trekking through that mess with only your umbrella as a shield.

Through the clamor of the rain outside, you swear you hear a soft knocking. Are you imagining things? You must be. It was probably just thunder.

After a beat, you hear the knocking again. Louder this time.

Yeah, that was definitely your door. You jump up from the couch, heart leaping hopefully into your throat as you rush to unlock the door. It can’t be.

It was.

There stands Jisung, sporting a soaked umbrella, tousled hair, flushed cheeks, and a grin.

You must stare at him with an open mouth for longer than you thought because his brows furrow and he bursts out into a laugh.

“No ‘Hi Jisung’? No ‘Oh, how I missed you, I’m so glad you’re here Jisung’?”

He wraps his arms around you, his soaked umbrella thumping against your back. You return the hug tightly, coming back to your senses. He’s here! Wait, he’s actually here? The dots don’t seem to connect in your mind, but the arms around you, slowly rocking you back and forth in a warm embrace finally convince your stubborn mind that this is real.

“You came? But—“

“Yeah, duh! The rain’s pretty crazy isn’t it? Still sucks we couldn’t go to dinner, but look I brought snacks!”

He pulls away from you to shake the plastic convenience store bag in front of your face and sets it on the counter, the contents spilling out over the surface. All your favorite snacks. You feel tears prick at your eyes.

No. You are not going to cry right now. You clench your fists by your sides, trying to will the tears back into your skull. Unaware of your internal conflict, Jisung hums absentmindedly to himself while he shrugs off his drenched jacket and stows away his umbrella on the rack by the door.

“So what are we thinking?” Jisung’s voice cuts through your thoughts, “Youtube? Card game?” He turns his attention towards you. The second he sees you, his eyes widen in confusion. Are you okay? What happened?

Before he has a chance to ask anything, the dam cracks and you break down into tears.

He’s right there by your side, following you down to the floor and kneeling in front of you. He takes your hand between both of his own.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Can you tell me?” He speaks in such a soft tone, but the worry in his voice leaks through. It just makes you sob harder. You bury your face in your knees. Stop crying. Stop it right now, this is ridiculous.

He squeezes your hand before flattening your clenched fist and kissing your palm. He lingers there for a moment, a warm and steady presence, while you collect yourself.

Eventually, you bring yourself to meet his eyes. His eyes flitter between your own, laced with obvious concern. Which makes sense because who in their right mind just breaks down sobbing with zero explanation as soon as their boyfriend walks in the door.

“I.. It’s just— I can’t believe you actually came here. To.. to see me. It’s— I don’t know, it’s really not a big deal I’m so sorry—” You stammer pathetically between gasps, wiping your tears on your shirt sleeve. Damn it. Why can’t you just pull your self together?

“Shhh. It’s okay, just take your time. I’m listening.” He soothes, pressing his mouth against your knuckles. You can feel his teeth through the soft skin of his lip as his breath ghosts across your skin.

“I just missed you.” You finish plainly.

It’s true, you did miss him. But you can’t quite bring yourself to say the whole truth. You want to tell him how much him showing up means to you. You want to thank him for actually caring about you and wanting to be around you, even if that means he has to go out of his way to achieve that. Nobody had ever treated you this way before. They wanted you when you were convenient. When you were easy.

Jisung just isn’t like that. How could you think otherwise?

Jisung huffs out a fond laugh at your answer and breaks into a half smile. By the knowing look in his eye, you can tell he understands you without words.

“Yeah, well, I missed you too. Come here.” He folds you into his chest, one hand behind your head and the other tracing circles across your back. You could stay here like this with him forever. Except that you might be getting snot on his shirt right now.

“Hold on, I really need a tissue,”you admit, pulling away from him and giggling. You excuse yourself to the bathroom while Jisung gasps and dramatically “ewwwuhh”s after you.

You avoid making eye contact with your reflection in the mirror as you blow your nose. Eventually, you glance up to take in your appearance. God. You look a mess. Your puffy red eyes squinting back at you agree. You rinse your face with some cold water just for good measure.

After you had taken care of business, you emerge from the bathroom to find Jisung sprawled out on your couch, limbs dangling about haphazardly. When he spots you, he pouts and makes grabby hands.

Mock rolling your eyes, you go over and lay on top of him, your couch complaining at the added weight. Straddling your legs, you place both of your arms around his head, cradling it. The feeling of his body underneath yours, the steadiness of his heartbeat, the curve of his waist, It just feels right. Like it should always be this way.

“You want to kiss me sooo bad, huh?” Jisung teases. He cocks an eyebrow at you and makes a kissy face. You cant help but laugh while you grab his face between your palms.

“And so what if I do? Huh?” The grin is evident in your voice as you dip down to give him a peck on the lips. It proves to be a little difficult to give a proper kiss to someone who is giggling through their nose and fighting back a smile. You kiss him once, twice, three times.

“You know,” you comment, “this would be easier if you just stayed still—“ Jisung abruptly surges upwards into a sitting position, nearly bonking his head against yours in the process. You find yourself straddling his lap while his hands shift to support your thighs.

Eyes brimming with admiration, he simply stares at you for a moment. Taking in everything that makes you, you. You’re perfect. And he wants nothing more than for you to just be able to see what he sees.

He leans in, slowly closing the gap between you two. You feel your heart skip as you lean to meet him, your eyes fluttering shut.

A bright flash blinds you and before you could even draw in a gasp, a deafening crack of thunder consumes your senses.

You can feel Jisung jump beneath you, his hands tightening around your thighs. Both of you pull away from each other in shock. He stares at you with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open, looking so genuinely frazzled that you break into a fit of laughter and wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. He laughs breathlessly in shock for a few moments, hand coming up to his heart to ground himself.

“You good?” You lean back and brush his back the hair that had fallen in his face, peering into his eyes.

“Mhm!” Jisung nods with a tight-mouthed smile, his voice an octave higher than normal.

“Awhhh my poor babyy,” You coo, returning to your previous position and rocking him back and forth.

Eventually, you two settle into a comfortable position on the couch. You had tucked yourself into Jisung’s side, resting your head on his chest. He had recovered from his little heart attack and is now rambling on about the lore of Hollow Knight, with the steady beat of the ever-pounding storm at your walls as accompaniment. You sigh in contentment, bathing in the sound of his voice.

“Hey, Jisung?” You ask, after a moment of silence.

“Hm?”

“Stay with me?”

“Always.”

[lqveharrington]

Bus Stop | R.L.

summary: both you and remus miss the bus during a rain shower.

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

includes: fluff, strangers being cute, cursing

a/n: i seriously need to finish my coriolanus series help 😭

As a meteorologist for the local news media, you knew what the weather was going to look like everyday. In fact, plenty of people tuned in to hear the forecast just from you. It was something you enjoyed doing, you liked helping people out for the smallest things. You could predict whether or not the sun would be shining to the point where ice cream would melt in an instant, or if it would snow so hard that the roads were to icy to drive in.

It felt nice to be helpful and appreciated in a community you’ve learned to love.

But every once in a while, the computer system the station owned would make small mistakes. There would be times where it predicted hard rain, but instead ended in light rain with little to no clouds. Of course, it was something so rare that you always disregarded it and moved on.

Except for today.

You were standing underneath the thinnest awning as rain pellets fell harshly from the thundering sky. You missed the bus for the first time in years. It was stupidly coincidental that the day the computer system decided not to work was the day you missed the bus. It had shown that only light rain would be coming to your area.

Wrong.

So now you were trapped in a small space until a bus appeared or the rain let up, which was unlikely.

The wind blew harshly on your skin and made the rain splash everywhere. You were getting drenched by the minute and all you could do was wait. Your Mary Jane’s were completely ruined and your tote bag completely soaked, which incased your book and notepad. It was all destroyed.

A frown made its way to your face. You couldn’t even tell if tears were streaming down your face or if it was the rain as you felt your chest constrict. But even the universe had its limits and thought it was cruel to have you all alone in the storm. So it sent you one companion who happened to miss the bus as well.

A man ran over to where you were, his eyes wide in frustration and annoyance. You watched him run underneath the awning with his jacket over his head, which did little as he was completely soaked from head to toe.

He gave you a slight nod and looked out toward the obstructed street view, “How long have you been waiting?”

You blink in confusion before realizing he was talking to you. Heat covered your neck when he gave you an amused grin as he ran his fingers through his wet hair in attempts to squeeze the water out.

“Oh! Uhm, maybe a couple of minutes? Only two buses come down this way.” You look down to your shoes, the puddle underneath rising toward your ankle, although you feet were already drenched.

He sighed and leaned his head back on the brick wall behind, rubbing his palms in his eyes. “Fuck, okay.”

After a few seconds, an awkward silence took over despite the heavy rainfall. It wasn't like you intended for it to get awkward, but standing in a tight space with a man you never met really set off tension.

Yours eyes flickered from the rain puddles to the man beside you. Clearing your throat, you began to speak, but at the same time, the man spoke as well.

“How—“

“What—“ Your eyes widen and the previous heat creeped up to your cheeks. “Sorry, go ahead.”

“No, that’s quite alright. I was just trying to make small talk.” The man shrugged and sent you a small smile.

You grinned back and fiddled with the strap of your tote back. “So was I.”

Despite the attempt, another silence took over. This time, it was less awkward. The rain continued to pelt down and the sun began it's slow descent down when you decided to strike a conversation again.

“What made you late?”

He looked over toward you, his mind zoned out from the pattering of the rain. “Mm?”

“To the stop, I mean." You smile sheepishly and waved your hand around. "I got here just as the bus left, but you were minutes behind.”

“Ah,” He nodded and pushed his hair back again. “My car is at the mechanics and I wasn’t sure when the coaches come around. I guess I was a little off.”

“Just a little.” You pinch your finger together as a small laugh falls from your lips.

A comfortable silence took over this time. You had yet to know the man’s name, but you knew that he was alright to be around for the time being. Who knows if there were weird people out in the rain coming to get you.

The rain only grew harder, causing you and the mystery man to push closer in hopes of staying out of the harsh weather and not freeze to death. Well, more so than already.

“I feel like I’ve seen you before.” The man spoke and glanced at you to see an amused glint in your eyes.

“Yeah?”

He squinted his eyes before snapping his fingers in recognition. “You’re the meteorologist on channel 8.”

You laugh softly and place your hands on your hips, smiling like you would on television. “The one and only.”

“I didn’t think I would meet a celebrity waiting for the coach.” The man chuckled and ended with a content smile, shaking his head at the fact he did meet someone everyone loved.

“Where do you work?” You ask out of the blue, catching him off guard. “It’s only right, you know my place of work.”

He raised his brows like it was the most obvious thing. “You’re on the tele.”

“Same difference.”

You both stared at each other as if you were in a silent competition before you looked away, clearing your throat. Sensing your fraction of discomfort, the man answered your question.

“I work down at the bookstore on King’s street. It’s beside the café.” He gestured toward where he came from and smiled when your eyes lit up.

“Oh! My friend Lily works down there. I love that place, they have everything I ever need in life.” You grin at the mention of your favorite store downtown, but purse your lips when you remember what exactly you had in your tote. “But, one of the books is kind of destroyed in my bag.”

"You destroyed public property?"

"Not on purpose!" You defend yourself and put a hand up, the small smile on your lips showing your true emotion. "That's not funny."

"It was."

You roll your eyes in an amused manner and settle into a short silence. Time felt like it was going so fast yet so slow, and you weren’t exactly sure what that meant. Picking at your nails, you ask him another question he hopefully knew the answer to.

"Since you work with Lily, do you know a guy named Remus? She said he worked there with her, she wants me to meet him."

He raised a singular brow at you and tucked his hands under his arms as the wind blew harder. "I may or may not know. Why?"

"She said we would hit it off right away." You shrug and shiver, causing your body to instinctively pull closer to the man beside you for warmth. "And every time she wants me to go over to meet him, I'm really busy with work."

He hummed and looked down at you, meeting your eyes with pure joy and mischief. "I think that you would hit it off right away."

"You think so?" You murmur, glancing down at his lips for a split second before looking back up to his eyes in shock at your own action.

"Oh, definitely. You'll have the time of your life with his horrid humor." He chuckled as you huffed a breath out, the heat from your mouth shown in front of you.

"As bad as you laughing at me for accidently destroying a library book?"

"Precisely." The man nodded in agreement, pulling you further back into the stop as a car drove by without slowing down. "How long have you been a meteorologist?"

"Oh gosh," You bite your lip in thought and go back to your first time actually working as a meteorologist. "Maybe two years officially? I studied a lot in college for it and was given an internship with NASA back in the states for my last year."

His lips turned-down into a smile, not that surprised by the fact with how much you loved your job. "I'm impressed."

"Thank you." You tilt your head down and look down at the ever growing puddle, sighing at the sight. "Although, sometimes I wish I had chosen a job back in the states rather than come back here."

"Why is that?"

"The weather here is mostly the same all year round. There's nothing too interesting about it." You gesture toward the rain.

As you pointed out the harsh rain you would always report on, the bus lights finally appeared through the thick fog. You shut your eyes in thanks before holding tightly onto your tote. But before the bus got to your stop, you decided to speak once more. Maybe, just maybe, the mystery man was alright.

"I never got your name."

He turned his head to you and shrugged, his brown hair splashing you with water. "Technically, I didn't get yours either."

"Doesn't count, I'm on television." You quip as the bus comes to a stop, but the look on the man’s face caught you off guard. "What is it? Why are you smiling weirdly?"

"I'm Remus Lupin." He struck his hand out and kissed your knuckles. "And it was a pleasure to hit it off with you."

"You're joking." You gape at the mysterious man who you could now identify as the same Remus Lily was talking about. "You're incorrigible."

"And your coach is going to leave you behind soon." He tilted his head toward the flashing headlights of the bus.

You purse your lips and quickly get your body on the bus. You paid your bill and turned around to see him still standing at the stop. Furrowing your brows, you call out to him only to be interrupted.

“Will I expect to see you in the bookstore soon?” He cupped his hands around his mouth to enhance his voice over the heavy rainfall.

A small smile graced your lips as you responded. “Maybe!”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 2

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, heartbreak, break ups, jealousy, mentions of cheating, mean!Nancy, King!Steve, no upside down

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: After the breakup you try to go on with your life but it's harder than you thought, especially when you have to see him with her everyday.

Word count: 6.9k

Notes: The upside down doesn't exist here. All the older teens are 18 & 18+

series masterlist

prologue | part one

-

He drags himself through the streets of Hawkins. The wind is harsh and the thin jacket that you threw back at him after you had followed him down your driveway, does little to shield him from the cold autumn wind. The rain is falling and the darkened sky forecasts the storm that is heading to this town. The leaves are falling, stripping the trees from the colorfulness. 

A frown is stretched across his face, his shoulders are slumped, wet strands of hair are hanging in front of his eyes, he doesn’t bother to push them away, he doesn’t even bother to hurry and get home faster to shield himself from the rain and the storm that comes closer and closer. 

He didn’t drive to your place the way he usually would, today he walked. 

His heart is aching in an unfamiliar way, it’s something he had never felt before. He can’t identify this feeling, he doesn’t understand what it is. He just knows that he feels bad for what he did to you. He always felt bad about the way he treated you but he never changed, not for you. 

He rarely ever gave you good moments to remember, yet you only held onto those. You didn’t care about the way he was treating you. You didn’t care that he looked at other girls or even flirted with them. You didn’t care that he forgot dates or even ditched you to hang out with Tommy instead. You didn’t care that he only gave you weekends.

The flowers he gave you, the little presents here and there, the I love you’s, the kisses in the rain, the few soft moments were enough for you. You loved him, no matter what. You loved him on his good days and on his bad days. He can’t do the same for you. He can’t love you, not the way you love him. 

He walks back into his house, not caring about the rain that soaked through his clothes, making it cling to his skin uncomfortably. He feels awful, he felt that way all night after you walked away from him. It was the first Friday night without you and it felt.. wrong. You always stayed over on weekends, his bedroom felt empty and lonely without you. 

After kicking his wet shoes off and throwing the soaked jacket on the ground, he drags himself upstairs and towards his bedroom. He eyes his bed, the one he slept with you in, the one he kissed you in, the one he held you in. The picture on his nightstand makes the ache even worse– you in your cheer uniform and him in his basketball uniform after a game, his arm is wrapped around your waist, you are both looking at each other with big smiles on your faces. Your green scrunchie is laying on his nightstand, along with a bottle of your favorite perfume. Your clothes are in his closet, your magazines and favorite books are laying around. 

Where does Nancy fit into all of this? 

This is so wrong, so so wrong but Steve doesn’t realize it fully yet. 

For a moment, he lets himself feel. He sits down on his bed with a heavy sigh, he reaches for your scrunchie, holding it in the palm of his hand, he stares at it. He remembers the night you stayed over at his place for the first time, when you just started dating. You were nervous and shy as though it was the first time alone with him– it wasn’t. You have known each other since you were little kids, your mom’s have been friends since their days at high school, they have even gone to summer camps together and are friends to this day. You and Steve have been around each other since, well, always. Whenever your mom’s would have ‘girls nights’, the two of you would hang out in yours or his room, listening to music or watching movies together. You were friends before you became more than that. He has yet to realize what he actually lost. 

The first time you stayed over, he walked into his room after giving you privacy to get changed. You were sitting on his bed when he walked back in, in nothing but one of his big shirts, your hair was open, your face free of any makeup. You looked so beautiful, he remembers the way his breath got caught in his throat, the way you blushed when he stared at you for a long time before speaking up. He remembers the way he sat down behind you and gathered your hair with his hands and pulled it into a low ponytail before he kissed your neck softly. 

He doesn’t feel the smile tugging at his lips at that memory. 

He looks at the picture on his nightstand, he reaches for it. The smile on your face so different from the look on your face he saw earlier– the tears in your eyes, the quivering lips, the sadness and the pain in your features. Steve stops breathing for a moment, a sinking feeling takes place in his chest and stomach. 

What did he do? 

He looks up and looks around his room with a weird feeling in his chest. The energy in his room is off, he can feel it now. He looks at his desk, books and papers are laying messily on the table. He remembers studying for a science test with you on his lap, for every right answer he got a kiss from you. He looks over to his bathroom, the door is wide open, he stares at the sink and thinks about the way you used to brush your teeth together in the mornings after you had stayed over.  

The moment those memories start to flood back, he shuts them out. He throws the scrunchie on his bed and gets up, he leaves the room and comes back with an empty box, moments later. He fills it with all the things that belong to you, everything that you have left behind goes into that box, which then goes into the back of his closet. He can’t get rid of it but he can’t give these things back to you either. It’s over but he just can’t give it back. 

He can’t let go. 

He can’t let you go, not yet. 

Not even when he ends up calling her after putting your things into the very back of his closet. Not even when he takes her out on their first date later that night. Not even when he kisses her when he drops her off again– ignoring the way it feels so wrong to feel someone else’s lips on his, ignoring the way it feels like he is betraying you.

-

Sunday morning. No arms are wrapped around you, no kisses are left on your shoulder, no ‘good morning’ whispers. You wake up to an empty bed, goosebumps arise on your skin when the cold wind touches your bare arms, you left the window open for him but he didn’t come, of course he didn't, what were you thinking? That he would climb through your window, apologize for what he did and beg for forgiveness? Did you really think that he would do that? You didn’t but you had hoped that he would. 

You lay in your cold bed, beneath the sheets that do nothing to comfort you. You look around your messy room, it feels so lonely. The house feels lonely without him here. Your mom is rarely ever home, too many shifts at the station keep her out of the house most of the time but Sunday mornings are always spent at home. 

The weather matches your mood, it’s raining harder than the day before and thunder rumbles in the sky. Tears well up in your eyes when your mind takes you back to him. How will you keep going? Your life turned upside down in the span of a few days, you lost him– not only your boyfriend but also your childhood friend. You lost both. He threw it all away, he threw you away like you never meant anything to him. 

A sob rises up in your throat, the ache in your chest is so fresh and it hurts so bad. It makes you want to rip your heart out of your chest to get rid of all this pain. 

You hear dishes clattering in the kitchen. You’re excited to see her so despite the pain and the sadness in your chest, you sit up and drag yourself out of your bed, using the bathroom and freshening up before you make your way downstairs. The smell of coffee lingers in the air, bringing a sense of comfort to you. The radio is on, if you leave me now is playing– how ironic. You roll your eyes and bite back your tears as you walk into the kitchen. Your mom is standing in front of the window, a cup of steaming hot coffee in her hand and a magazine in the other. She is wearing her workout clothes, she must have been on her morning run already.

You swallow, blinking a few times to make your eyes look less glassy. 

“Good morning, mom.” 

You quickly turn towards the coffee pot before she turns around, reaching for the orange mug. You miss the look of surprise on her face when she sees you up so early. 

“Good morning, sweetie.” 

She places her magazine on the counter, leaning against it, she presses the mug to her chest and watches you. You pour some sugar and milk into your coffee, stirring it slowly with the silver spoon, not glancing at her just yet. 

“What are you doing up so early?” 

Is it early? You didn’t even check the time when you got up. A glance at the clock on the wall tells you that it’s 8am. Great. You only slept for two hours. 

“I went to sleep early last night,” you lie and take a sip of your coffee. You turn your back to her and walk towards the kitchen table. You can feel her eyes on you. Maybe it was a mistake to come downstairs already, you are not ready to tell her about what happened. 

She grabs the magazine again and joins you at the table. 

“No date night last night?” She teases you, not knowing that this is enough for you to tear up again, “is Steve still sleeping? I bought those bagels he likes so much.”

Your bottom lip quivers and your eyes well up with tears. 

You and Steve always spent Sunday mornings sitting at the kitchen table with your mom, eating breakfast, drinking coffee and talking for hours. Sometimes Steve’s mom, Lauren would come over as well– now it’s all over. 

You shake your head slowly, staring at the dark liquid inside your favorite mug, “n-no.” 

She doesn’t have to look at your face to know that something is off, the way you are sitting with your shoulders slumped is more than enough for her to figure out that you are not feeling well. She furrows her brows and leans forward. 

“What happened, y/n?” 

You press your lips together, blinking rapidly, as though it will stop the tears from falling. You look up at her through your bangs, tears continuing to well up. Your hands are shaking and it takes everything in you not to break down.

Her eyes flash with realization, she raises her brows and sighs. Her gaze softens and she instantly reaches out to grab your hand, “oh y/n.” 

She doesn’t need words or an explanation to know what happened. The look on your face, the tears in your eyes are enough. She knows it all too well. 

You break down in front of her, not caring about holding the tears in any longer. She hugs you tightly, runs her fingers through your hair and comforts you as best as she can but it does little to make you feel better. The pain is just too fresh. 

How will you keep going? You ask yourself again. Steve had been there all your life, ever since you were little kids, he was there. He was always there and now you just have to accept that he is gone? That you have lost your boyfriend and your best friend? That he fell for another girl and left you for her? That you weren’t enough? That he never loved you when he said he did? 

What if you never crossed that line with him? What if you just stayed friends? What if you saw through him from the start? 

There are so many what if’s running through your mind, so many questions, though you don’t have any answers for them. 

There are so many things that you don’t understand. How could he say I love you when he never meant it? I love you under the moonlight, I love you between kisses, I love you during classes, I love you before he hung up the phone, I love you before going to bed, before leaving your house, before parting ways at school. So many I love you’s, so many lies. How could he touch you and still sleep with you when she was already on his mind? Did he think about her when he was with you? 

You hope he didn’t but that hope dies when you see him a day later, walking down the hallway with a smile on his face, hand in hand with another girl. After only two days of being without you, he is already with her, looking happier than ever. It tears a gasp out of you, it makes you stare at him in shock and with tears in your eyes as he looks right at you. 

Curious eyes, shocked faces and hushed whispers.

Steve swallows nervously, he puts on a brave face. He can see the look in your eyes, the tears, the pain, the shock when your eyes move over to her. Nancy Wheeler. She is holding his hand tightly, looking around shyly when she notices all the stares. Her hand feels different from yours. 

All eyes are on the new couple but his eyes are on you. He watches the way your face goes from shock to pain to betrayal to disappointment. Questions run through your mind, he can tell by the look on your face. He can tell by the way your eyes flash with confusion when they meet his again. How could you? You were mine last week and now you are already hers? Were you ever mine? 

Uncertainty fills him the longer he stares at you.

This was the right decision, right? 

You stare at him for what feels like forever. Time slows and it’s just the two of you in this hallway. He forgets about all the people staring at him, he forgets about her. For a moment, it’s only you and him. Tears that he would have kissed away in other circumstances threaten to fall down your cheeks but you don’t let them. You force them away and blink rapidly. You are suffering because of him. He knows it and it makes his heart sink to his stomach. 

He forces himself to look away from you. He forces himself to look at her. Though his eyes itch to glance at you when he hears your locker shutting and your footsteps echoing through the crowded hallway as you hurry out of the school. You brush past him, the smell of your perfume invades his senses. 

He wants to turn around but he doesn’t. 

-

You knew this would happen, you knew you would break down the moment you would see him. The mention of his name was enough to make you cry but seeing him with her after he just broke up with you was too much. 

You didn’t want to run away, you didn’t want to break down but you couldn’t help it. The moment you saw him with her, a wave of nausea fell over you, you had to get out so you ran out of the school with your backpack in hand and your jacket in the other. You ran to the back of the school, the place where all the stoners– no one is here now, you are grateful for that. 

You throw your backpack on the ground and sit down, leaning your back against the wall, you pull your knees up to your chest, still biting back a sob as tears begin to fall down your cheeks. You are supposed to meet up with Heather and Chrissy at the library but you don’t feel like going back in there and quite frankly, you don’t want to see the pitiful looks in their eyes. 

You lean your elbows on your knees and cup your cheeks as you stare into blank space. 

You don’t understand, how can he be with her after not even a week? 

Was he with her all this time already?

Did he cheat on you? He must have.

The smell of smoke fills the air and the sound of footsteps follow but you don’t bother looking up, hoping that it’s just some random student. Luck isn’t on your side though, it never is. 

You see his boots first, glancing up a little, you see the denim jacket and smell his cologne. The usual eye roll that he would get from you is missing. He doesn’t say anything, instead he blows smoke into the air and sits down next to you. 

You sniffle quietly, hiding your face by looking down. 

“Do you want me to kick his ass?” Billy asks, “cause you know I will.” 

You shake your head. 

He sighs, placing the cigarette between his lips, he turns his head to look at you. Tears roll down your cheeks, the wind blows through your hair, exposing your face a little. You are quiet as you let yourself cry, in front of him. You never thought that you would ever cry in front of Billy, out of all people but right now, you couldn't care less.

“You know, I always thought you were too good for him.” 

You want to scoff and roll your eyes but you don’t have the energy to, not today. 

“That’s bullshit,” you mumble. You know what type of man Billy is, he is just like Steve– if not worse. 

“No, it’s not,” he chuckles, “I might not be the guy you want to hear this from but you deserve better than fucking King Steve. There’s plenty of other guys for a pretty girl like you.”

“That’s not helping,” you mumble. Raising your head to look at him, you expect him to stare at you with a smirk on his face or amusement in his eyes but you find neither. His face is straight, his eyes are filled with– you don’t know what his eyes are filled with, he is hard to read. You don’t see any pity and that’s good enough for you. 

He shrugs and continues to smoke his cigarette. 

You turn away from him again and lean your head against the wall. You look up at the sky and watch the clouds move. 

“I saw them together two weeks ago.” 

You look back at him, watching him through your blurry vision, “w-where?” 

He takes his last drag of the cigarette before he throws it on the ground, he blows the smoke out into the air and turns back to you. 

“At the diner, they were in his car and,” he pauses when he sees the fresh tears in your eyes. 

“And?” You ask. 

Your heart is racing, fear settles in the pit of your stomach. Does it even matter anymore, what he did with her? He left you for her already, it shouldn’t matter anymore but it does. 

He blinks, looking away, he feels a sense of pity for you. Billy doesn’t know what it’s like to get his heart broken this way but he knows what it’s like to be left. 

“They kissed.”

Despite everything that happened, despite the things he told you already. These words still feel like a stab to your heart. Your eyes drop, your shoulders slump and a heavy sigh falls from your lips. 

“Oh..” 

Two weeks ago. He called you after he went to the diner to ‘study’ with her to say goodnight the way he always did but that night was the first time he hung up without saying I love you.

You want to run again. You blink rapidly, wanting the tears to be gone. You get up and grab your stuff, ignoring the weight of his eyes on you. You want to run and get away from everything including yourself.

“Where are you going?” 

You shrug. 

Where are you going? You don't know where you should go.

Billy gets up as well, reaching for your wrist to keep you from running away. You look down at his hand before you look up and into his eyes with a frown on your face. He holds his car keys up, “wanna get out of here?” 

Billy is not someone you want to spend the day with but Steve is now the last person you want to see. You are desperate to get away and you would leave with just about anyone if that means that it will keep you away from him and her.

“Okay.” 

-

Who could’ve ever prepared you for such pain? Absolutely no one– not the many heartbreaking books you’ve read, not the relationships you have watched falling apart, not even your mother’s heartbreak when your father left could have prepared you for the pain that you have been going through since he left you. It should be getting better by now, right? But it doesn’t, if anything, it keeps getting worse and worse. 

Everywhere you go, you see him, everywhere you look, you get reminded of him, memories follow you every way you turn to. He cursed you with love, pain and heartbreak and you despise him for it, you despise the way he shattered your fragile little heart, the way he broke every promise he ever made, the way he never loved you when he told you he did. 

‘I-I’m not even sure if I ever loved you, y/n. I wouldn’t have fallen for her if I did love you, right?’ Those words haunt you, they haunt you day and night, when you wake up in the bed you used to sleep with him in, when you get ready in the bathroom, staring at your reflection, thinking about a time when he would come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, when you walk down the stairs only to think about all the times he would walk through the front door with freshly picked flowers, your favorite ones. Those words haunt you at school, when every place you turn to is nothing but a reminder of him, when you see him with her. They even haunt you in your sleep and there is nothing you can do about it. 

Curious and confused glances were thrown your and Steve’s way after the breakup, whispers in the locker rooms, bathrooms and hallways– you heard them all. You weren’t the only one shocked about Steve’s actions, everyone else was too. 

A month of torture had passed and you know that it’s far from over. No matter what you do, no matter who you are with, you can’t stop thinking about him, you can’t stop hurting, you can’t stop crying every time you think of him, you can’t stop tearing up every time you see him. This morning you had walked in on them kissing in the bathroom, her back was pressed against the wall, his hands were on her waist, he was kissing her hungrily. Neither of them saw you, you left just as quick as you came. It ruined your day before it even started. 

Will this ever end? This pain, this heartbreak? 

Your knees are pulled to your chest, your eyes are closed, your chin resting on your knees. You should be at cheer practice, instead you are crying your eyes out on the cold bathroom floor. 

The door opens and two different voices fill the silence in the bathroom, ones you instantly recognize. 

“I just don’t get why you’re so mad–”

“You promised that we’d leave together but you just ditched me because you wanted to lose your stupid virginity to King Steve, who’s by the way, a huge asshole,” Barb grumbles, “I bet it wasn’t even worth it.”

“I-It was! And he’s not an asshole!” You hear Nancy exclaim, “he’s sweet a-and it was.. nice. And it’s not like something happened to you, you got home safe, didn’t you?” 

Your eyes snap open, you place your hand over your lips. Your heart leaps to your throat and your stomach clenches uncomfortably. 

So he didn’t sleep with her while he was still with you. It does little to comfort you, it still makes you feel sick to know that he is with her, that he is so happy while you still cry yourself to sleep every night. 

Does he hold her afterwards? He never held you after you had sex– maybe once or twice on nights where you had felt sad, he traced your skin, drawing stars around the scars that only he got to see. Does he kiss her afterwards? He never kissed you, most of the time he only pecked your forehead and then he would turn away from you. Does he fall asleep afterwards or does he actually bother to take care of her the way he never took care of you? 

“Right,” Barb scoffs, “well, don’t be surprised when he leaves you for another virgin.”

Virgin. Is that what he wanted? Another virgin, another notch on his belt? A new thing to brag about? 

“Why are you so mean?” Nancy mumbles. 

“I’m not mean, I’m just telling the truth, he seems to be moving on quickly– he was just dating y/n and now he’s with you, like he wasn’t in a long term relationship.” 

You hear Nancy shuffling around the bathroom, placing her bag on the floor, followed by a loud sigh. 

“I mean, it wasn’t love.” 

You raise your eyebrows and clench your jaw. Anger fills you and pain tugs at your heart. You know it wasn’t love for him but it still hurts you to hear those words. Does he talk to her about you? Does he laugh about what he once knew love to be now that he has her, the girl he actually loves? 

“It wasn’t love?” Barb asks, laughing at her friend's words, “I don’t know about you but they seemed pretty in love to me.” 

“Well, he wasn’t in love with her– I mean, he dated her because that was expected of him, right? She’s the popular cheerleader, the pretty rich girl,” she says mockingly, “those have nothing in their brains and they’re pretty boring too so.. It was all just for show, I-I mean, do you really think he wanted her for her? I’m pretty sure that she’s already onto the next guy anyway, girls like her are–”

“Whoa that’s mean, Nance.” 

Yeah, these words are mean for someone who looks so sweet and innocent. You don’t know whether to laugh or to walk out and slam her stupid face into the mirror. You have been holding yourself back from confrontations, not wanting to reveal how hurt and angry you really are about the breakup and about her stealing from you. 

“It’s the truth! Steve told me that Billy Hargrove was after her since he moved here this summer.”

“What does that have to do with her being ‘easy’? He’s after her? So? Half of the school would die for a chance with her, that doesn’t make her easy, it’s not like she’s after them– besides, even if she was, she’s single and free to do whatever she wants. She wasn’t the one who went after other people while she was still in a relationship unlike your boyfriend. The only easy one here is Steve– seriously, stop being so mean, you got what you wanted, what else do you want?” 

That’s what you ask yourself as well, what else does she want?

You push yourself up and smooth down your skirt but before you can leave the stall and make your presence known to them, their footsteps echo through the bathroom, the door opens and they leave without realizing that you were there. 

Sighing, you slump against the wall and look up at the ceiling. You never really cared about Nancy Wheeler, you never had anything to do with her. You didn’t mind her, not even when you saw the way she looked at Steve while he was still yours, her big and innocent eyes trained on the King. She always batted her eyelashes at him, giggled at his stupid jokes and it drove him crazy, he loved it, the attention he got from another girl. She wasn’t the first one who looked at him that way, who touched his arm and giggled at his jokes but she was the first one who managed to steal his attention away from you. 

She was the first one who made him doubt his feelings for you. 

And he let it all happen and it angers you because you feel like a fool for loving him despite the things he put you through. He will never be yours again and you will never be his again, you know it and yet it’s still such a hard thing to grasp. It’s only been a few weeks without him, yet it feels like a lifetime.

You know you have to let him go. 

You kept holding onto him, hoping that he would come back because you thought you knew that he would come back but he won’t and he never will. He looks happy with her, happier than he ever looked with you and no matter how much it hurts, you let him go and you get rid of every part of him that you kept holding onto.

The sweater that he left behind in your bedroom, the collection of polaroids in the shoebox under your bed. The necklace he gave you on your sixteenth birthday. The bottle of cologne that he left on your dresser. The ring he put on your finger– a promise ring. You throw it all away, not letting the memories get to you this time. You push them all out, you force them all out of your mind. 

You let him go. 

-

Steve Harrington stopped existing in your life. Days and weeks have passed since the day he left you and it’s as though he became a ghost in your life. You stopped looking at him, you stopped acknowledging his presence– whenever you walk past him in the hallways, you pretend to not see him, when you’re in the same class, you never spare a single glance at him, not even when you have to walk past him to get to your seat, when you’re both at basketball games and you have to cheer him and his team on, you look at everyone but at him and it bothers him. It bothers him to see you acting like he doesn’t exist to you, like he’s not even there, like he’s invisible. 

He doesn’t understand what the feeling in his chest is every time he sees you– odd. It feels odd to see you walk past him without stopping by his locker to steal a kiss– he did this, he caused this. He didn’t want you anymore. He wanted her and now he has her but why does he feel like the worst person alive? Why does he feel so unhappy when he finally has what he wants? 

“Steve?” 

You stop in front of your locker, opening it, you look at yourself in the tiny mirror you put into your locker– you look beautiful, the way you always do. Your hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, you’ve got your cheer uniform on like always, a cardigan that looks way too big on you hangs loosely on your form, it reminds him of the way his big sweaters would look on you. 

He wonders if you still think about him. He wonders if you still hate him for what he did to you almost two months back. He wonders if you would curse him out if he came over to talk. He wonders if–

“Steve!” 

Nancy tugs on his hand and says his name a little louder, pulling him out of his thoughts and forcing him to tear his eyes away from you. He blinks, furrowing his brows as he looks down at her. 

“Yeah, what is it?” 

“Are you… okay?” She asks, giving him a small smile. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles as he looks back at you again, “yeah, I’m okay.” 

“What are you doing tonight?” Nancy asks.

He shrugs, “I don’t know, I thought we could watch a movie or something.”

“Oh uh, about that,” Nancy starts, looking around, she doesn’t even notice the way he looks at you, “I have this thing–”

Steve frowns, though it’s not because of his girlfriend’s words but because of the man approaching you. 

“Thing?” Steve mumbles. 

“Yeah, I’m working on this project with Jonathan and we gotta get it done before christmas break, so..” 

“Oh, yeah that’s fine,” Steve says without really thinking about her words. His attention is elsewhere. 

Billy Hargrove. 

Steve had always hated him. He moved here this summer and left an amazing impression the first time he met him. Billy had set his eyes on you the moment he stepped into Hawkins. 

Every party you and Steve had gone to together, ended with you arguing because of Billy Hargrove– well more so because of himself and his jealousy, because he couldn’t contain it, because he was too insecure, because he saw the way he looked at you, like he knew that he would get you eventually, like he knew that he would get you to leave him. 

Maybe that’s where it all went wrong.

Maybe his insecurities got the best of him. 

Maybe things would have been different if he wasn’t so jealous all the time. 

“Hey uh– I’m meeting Barb at the library, I gotta go,” Nancy says before she grabs his chin and pulls him in for a short kiss. 

Steve forces a smile onto his face and pecks her lips once more before he lets her go. He watches her leave and waves at her when she turns around to flash him another smile. When she is gone, he turns back to you. 

Billy’s hand is resting on the locker next to yours, the usual smirk on his face is wide as he eyes you up and down. You don’t seem too happy about his presence though, rolling your eyes at whatever he is saying to you. Billy leans even closer to you and you don’t hesitate to push him away from you, you sigh, he can tell by the way your lips part and the way your chest rises. You press your fingertips against his chest to keep him away from you, saying something to him that Steve can’t make out from afar before you turn around and leave. Billy doesn’t even look fazed, if anything, he smirks even more and tilts his head, licking his lips as he stares at your legs. 

Steve rolls his eyes, still hating the way Billy looks at you. He shuts his locker and walks into the same direction you walked to. It’s the last class of the day, the one he shares with you; English class. 

You are already in your seat when Steve walks into the classroom. The seat next to yours is empty, it still is ever since he moved. You are looking down at your notebook, a pencil tugged between your lips as your other hand is propped against your cheek. He looks away and makes his way over to his new usual seat when he realizes that it’s already taken by Tommy Hagan who looks at him with a smirk on his face. His girlfriend, Carol is chewing her gum obnoxiously as she sports the same smirk as her boyfriend. Steve clenches his jaw in anger, irritation sparks inside of him. 

These two have been making his school days more unbearable than before ever since his fallout with Tommy. 

“There’s a free seat,” Carol smirks as she points to the seat next to yours, “the queen looks pretty lonely without her king, don’t you think?” 

Tommy chuckles, “yeah, don’t worry we won’t tell your mistress.” 

Steve scoffs at their words, rolling his eyes, he looks around the classroom. The seat next to yours is indeed the only free one. Fuck. He shakes his head and turns away, begrudgingly making his way over to his old seat. He glances at you when he throws his books on the table. 

You don’t acknowledge his presence but you freeze when he sits down next to you. You pause what you are doing, clenching your hand into a fist and taking deep breaths. Steve notices it all– he wonders if you are angry or nervous. 

He leans back in his seat and turns around to look at his old friends who are already giggling. He glares at them and turns back around, hoping that this lesson will go by quickly. 

He tries to keep his eyes off of you but he keeps glancing at you every few seconds or so. He notices something, it’s a small detail but he notices it, the eyeshadow on your eyelids has been replaced by black eyeliner, that must make your eyes look brighter– if you just looked at him, he would know. 

His mom asks about you all the time, he felt bad when he had to tell her that he broke up with you, he felt even worse when he had to tell her about his new girlfriend. She wasn’t too excited to meet her. His mom adores you. He doesn’t remember the last time she saw you. He doesn’t even remember the last time he saw you out of school. You started skipping cheer practice, you stopped coming to games even though it is your job to do so as the cheer captain, you have slowly started to give that title over to your friend, Chrissy. Some days you even came to school with your regular clothes, ditching the cheer outfit for a pair of jeans and a sweater. 

He wonders how you are feeling. 

He wonders what you do in your free time now. 

He wonders if you still listen to the same music. 

He wonders if–

“You’ll be working on this assignment in pairs.”

“Do we get to choose our partner?” Carol asks with a smirk on her face. 

Panic fills Steve’s chest when he stares at the teacher. He missed the whole class because he was staring at you.

“No,” Mrs. Jones says with a straight face, “not after the last time. You work with your seat partner. You got a little over a week, so–” she pauses as she takes a look at the calendar on her wall, “you will get to finish it just in time before Christmas break.” 

Steve drowns out the rest of her words, he swallows nervously as he looks over at you. His palms get sweaty and his heart begins to race in his chest. 

You are not giving any reactions, you pretend to be unbothered by this whole situation. When the bell rings and everyone gets up to leave the classroom, you get up and gather your books. 

Steve runs his hand through his hair and looks around before his eyes find you again. He speaks your name with uncertainty in his voice. 

“Don’t bother, Harrington. I’ll write the assignment myself, not that you’d be much of a help anyways,” you mumble, coldly. 

This is the first time you have said anything to him in weeks, you didn’t even bother to look at him. You didn’t even bother to wait for him to say something. You turned around and left without sparing a single glance. 

“Y/n!” He calls out to you but you are already gone. 

Sighing, he slumps back into his seat, not caring about the many eyes on him. 

“Aw,” Carol coos with a smug look on her face, “cute, the lovers will reunite again. Isn’t that how you met Nancy?” 

Tommy chuckles, throwing his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder, he looks down at Steve, “yeah,” he nods, “don’t think that King Steve will get his queen back though,” he chuckles. 

Carol’s eyes flash with amusement, “right, last time I checked she was screwing around with Billy,” she says. Giggling when she sees the shocked look on Steve’s face, “oops, you didn’t know?” 

She pouts at him, “guess your fear was valid after all, I mean that’s what you were always afraid of, right? That he would steal your girl?” 

Steve swallows harshly, he feels like he has been punched. You are sleeping with Billy? The guy you always told him not to worry about? The guy that caused all his jealousy?

“Don’t worry, Steve,” Tommy laughs, “it’s just sex, damaged girls like her just wanna be fucked," he says before he turns around with a chuckle, he and Carol leave before Steve gets to say anything back.

A bitter taste lays on his tongue, he leans back in his seat, staring down at the hair tie around his wrist.

He can't believe it, he can't believe you.

-

Again, I only do taglists for my friends and mutuals! You can follow my sideblog and turn on notifications so you don't miss new fics and updates! @andvyswritingss

@corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @mysticmunson @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @corrodedseraphine @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628

[howling-goldendemon]

How I'm starting to believe in Greek gods

I just wanted to share my story, including some doubts because I'm not sure about some things. I have never been a really religious person, as growing up in a very religious family, i think even having some connection to Christianity when it comes to a town near where I live.

Anyways, as I was saying, I have never been that much about beliefs, always wondering about what else could be out there waiting for me.

After all, my family said that the most important part of being human is worshipping a greater deity, specially god; I decided to try to take that in mind while searching for a religion where I could feel kind of comfortable.

Despite the taboo that it is, i started with Satanism, my reason behind it being "I'm not comfortable in what surrounds me, maybe if I try the opposite...?".

I moved on to try atheism, it didn't feel right, something was missing.

Then I tried believing in Greek gods, this being the reason because of a famous musical based on The Odyssey.

I don't know why, but this one really felt like it called me, something in Greek gods drew my attention and respect.

I tried then making my first prayer, being it to Poseidon, I still don't know if I did it right or if I chose the wrong god to start, but my ask was for clear skies on the weekend in exchange of being able to make it rain as hard as he wanted on my 18th birthday, the reason for the ask was that there was going to be a camp; in the end, the camp was moved to next week, but it did rain in my birthday and the weekend was clear skies.

I am a little ashamed of this but I ended up asking again 2 times, this time to Zeus too, as the camp was moved to another date 3 times, this time i tried my best to not be disrespectful and I promised I'd try to make something in return.

The day of the camp, I made a quick prayer to Gaea, asking for a safe travel and general safety during said camp.

As soon as I got back to school, I got cherry incense, I am still new to this and today I lit up one of the incenses.

I was going to try Aztec gods, but I ended up feeling more comfortable in Greek mythology.

I am willing to make a tiny altar for Gaea, Poseidon and Zeus, As I feel like I still need to make a proper offering to all of them, I would've thought it was coincidence and I know it's not 100% true or reliable, but the weather forecast for those weekends I asked were written with a high probability of heavy rain.

It may have been coincidence, but I like to think it was a way to receive me with open arms in this religion.

Now for the questions:

Do I need to make separate altars for each god? I don't have much space, and I don't know what my family would thing of it if I made an altar they could see, I could fit one in my closet or a tiny table in my room.

What would I do with offerings? specifically food, I cannot leave it to rot, that feels kind of wrong, but eating or throwing it out feels too disrespectful, what is the common practice when it comes to food offerings?

Am I praying correctly? I tend to pray in this way: Treat the gods like I would treat a Teacher I respect a lot, with a lot of respect and trying to not ask for too much.

Is there a guide on what to pray to which god? I just wanna show respect by believing in every Greek god, regardless of if I ask for something or not, I wanna keep doing this.

Thank you so much for reading until the end.

[temozarela]

-> miss you already

GETO X READER MDNI, smut, slow burn, fluff, angst, soft geto, comfort, mutual pining

geto finds you after his defection to say goodbye

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

inspiration (@ayyy-pee)

part 2

ao3 version

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The beginnings of dusk settled over the mountains, soft lavender clouds blushing as the amber sun settled behind them. You were settled at your desk, pen loose in your grip as you stared out of your window. The breeze was cool on your cheeks and you knew that it was probably time to pull the windows closed since the remnants of Summer were scarce, only obvious through the very last of the green leaves, of which were tinged red at the very tips. You could see the main courtyard of Jujutsu Tech from your room, meaning that you often knew who was present and where they were. Previously that day, you had watched Geto leave at 7am, then Nanami at 2pm, and Shoko and Gojo- presumably to the bar- at 5pm. You didn’t get offended about the lack of invite, after all, you often said no these days. Since Geto didn’t choose to go out much, you often chose to stay back with him instead. It was nicer than the sweaty noisiness of the bar Shoko liked. It was her special discovery in second year- a bar that didn’t ask for ID. The others quickly adopted it too, and despite them now being of age, they never grew out of it. You guessed they were emotionally attached to it now, despite the poor quality of the drinks. Geto and you often read together on those quieter nights, or you watched shitty horror movies. You had a tendency to be shyer around bigger groups, so being able to have time alone with Geto was nice, and you felt a lot closer to him because of it. You weren’t an idiot though, you knew he got a lot of female attention. It wasn’t uncommon for you to get glared at when you went out together, and there were occasions where girls had come up to you for permission to ask him out. Truthfully, these girls were often stunning, and part of you even resented Geto for being the one who got their attention, especially since he always politely apologised with a bow- or on his lazier days, he gave them Gojo’s number instead. What a waste.

You had been expecting Geto back at 4pm, but you hadn’t seen him come back yet. In an act of desperate boredom, you’d even checked his room, the training areas, the vending machines, and even the classrooms. Nope. No Geto in sight. It was a shame that he wasn’t there for a ‘just us two’ evening, but that concern was long gone by 6pm. Where was he? You had tried texting and calling him. No response. You had even texted Gojo about whether he’d contacted them.

Nah but u sure he isn’t stuck in the toilet or smth? xoxo

And Shoko.

nope.

not since tues soz

So there you were, sat at your desk, anxiously watching the school entrance. For a second, you had wondered about reporting him missing, however you shook it off. What could the police do that a special grade sorcerer couldn’t?

By the time it was dark, your back ached and you hadn’t made any progress on your homework for at least 3 hours. 9pm. Something was definitely wrong. You tried not to fret, you had noticed how tired he’d been lately- maybe he had chosen to stay in the city for a while to get his mind off things. You groaned, burying your head in your arms. You really missed him, and the worst part was that you were the only one.

See, Shoko and Gojo had the mindset of ‘if it was something he couldn’t handle, it’d be all over the news’, and you were more sensitive than them- you knew that- but it hadn’t stopped you from turning the news on anyway, letting it drone on in the background. Just in case. However, after a while, the hours of constant murmuring about war, murders, a girl being kidnapped, and heavy rain forecast for the next few days wasn’t doing much for your emotional state, so now you finally reached for the remote, turning it off, and by consequence, plunging yourself into deafening silence.

It was late and you were still in your uniform, you noted. You were tired too.

With a hefty sigh, you collapsed onto your bed, staring at your ceiling. The wind whispered, lowly outside, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. You idly chided yourself for forgetting to close the window, but you couldn’t find the energy to do anything about it.

Finally, after a few deep breaths, you found solace in sleep.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You narrowed your eyebrows as you felt your body being jolted, large hands gripping your face, and then your shoulders. Groaning softly, you turned in your sleep, trying to make sense of the voice fading in and out of your brain. It didn’t sound like it was from your dream… It was hushed… low… soft…

It sounded like your name.

Cold hands touched your face again, turning your head. In response, your eyelashes fluttered open. You were surprised, in your groggy state, that you couldn’t see your room. Was something blocking your view? Then, regretfully, you noted that your uniform was sticking to your skin, and that you never did change.

Also, it was freezing.

“Hey.”

You jumped.

“What the fuck.” You croaked, squinting upwards. “Geto?”

“Yeah-”

“Finally.”

“Look-”

“You fucking stink.”

“Ok, just-”

“No seriously, it’s rancid. Hang on, let me get the light…” You mumbled, blinking sleepily.

“Wait, first I should tell you-” Your numb fingers found the light switch, and you flicked it on.

“Ok, ok,” You paused, eyes widening as his figure was illuminated, and suddenly you were very awake. “What the fuck.”

Geto was dripping with blood. His face, his shirt, his trousers- drenched. You studied his face, head cocked. He thinned his lips, looking… mildly unimpressed.

“As I was trying to say,” He started, “I’m leaving.”

“You… just got here.” You muttered, squinting at him.

“No, I-” Geto sighed, running his dirtied fingers through his loose hair, “I’m leaving Jujutsu Tech.”

“Why?”

“I want to create a world of only Jujutsu sorcerers.” He swallowed, hands clenched by his sides. You stilled, mind buzzing.

“How…” You rubbed your temples, looking around, “How… did you get in here?”

Geto stared at you, dubiously. “That’s what you want to ask?”

You nodded. “I have other questions too, but I lock my door at night and now I have safety concerns.”

“Your window was open.”

“Oh yeah.” You mumbled, running a hand over your face. “Fuck.”

“I’m tired of the higher-ups avoiding the root of the problem, so I’m leaving.” Geto continued, carefully.

“Oh.” You said, struggling to find words. “Right now?”

Geto looked at you strangely, then nodded.

“Do the others know?”

Geto shook his head.

You stared at him for a second, eyebrows furrowed, a pensive frown fixed on your face.

“Holy shit!” You sat up, eyes wide with realisation. “Whose blood is that?” You raised your voice, gesturing at his shirt. You were so used to seeing gore as a sorcerer, it hadn’t even occurred to you that the blood on his clothes was anything strange at all.

“Don’t be so loud.” Geto hissed, “It’s just from some non-sorcerers.”

With a raise of your eyebrows, you scrutinised him, “Just some non-sorcerers’?” You scoffed. “Just? How many?”

He swallowed, “112.”

You blinked at him.

“Just… 112… innocent people?” You replied, slowly.

Geto breathed, deeply, “I had to.”

“What would’ve happened if you didn’t?” Your voice climbed as you gestured frantically.

“I wouldn’t have solidified my resolve.” Geto’s shoulders tensed.

You almost wanted to laugh.

“It’s always you and your fucking resolve, isn’t it?” You muttered, dryly. Geto watched you, uncomfortably, his arms hanging uselessly by his sides. A heavy silence hung in the air like a toppled vase, microseconds away from shattering on the floor.

You sighed heavily, crossing your legs, “So… what now?”

“Come with me.”

“Excuse me?”

Geto crouched to your level, hands reaching for yours, “I don’t care if you hate what I do, just come with me.”

You froze, fingers twitching between his clammy hands.

“You’ll have a home, an allowance, I’ll try to give you the best life possible. I don’t want to leave you here to work 50 hours a week and then to die at 26.”

He had a point.

It was a good offer.

Your eyes darted between Geto’s dark ones. “Why me? Shouldn’t you take Gojo?”

“I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.” Geto squeezed your hands tightly. “Satoru enjoys it- fighting with the higher ups and spending his free time exorcising curses. It’s who he is. It’s not who you are, though.”

“It’s not.” You agreed, softly.

Geto moved to perch on your bed, but you swatted his shoulder, silently gesturing at his bloody clothing. He nodded, an amused glint in his eyes, as he moved to politely kneel on the floor. You climbed out of your bed to sit next to him, shivering slightly at the iciness of the wooden floorboards. Stretching your legs in front of you, you slowly exhaled.

At least he was safe, right?

To be honest, you still didn’t really know what to think of it. It’s not something you had even thought to prepare yourself for. You’d miss him if he left, you knew that. He knew that you didn’t enjoy being a sorcerer, and you were a little pissed that he had used it against you, but he wasn’t wrong. Being a curse user with him didn’t sound half bad, either. It wasn’t an easy decision to make though and he had to understand that.

“We need to get you out of those clothes.” You murmured.

Geto looked at you, “Do you even have anything I can change into?”

You shook your head, “I can stop by your room, I’ll get a bath running.”

“We can’t.” He replied, “I don’t want to be seen.”

“It’s 2am, Geto.” You said shortly after sparing a glance at your clock, “We’ll be fine.”

Geto looked hesitant as you stood up, offering him a hand.

The walk to the bathroom was silent as you snuck past the dorms. Gojo and Shoko were long asleep, so being caught wasn’t too much of a concern. After retrieving a few bits from Geto’s room, you crept into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. The tiles were cold under your bare feet, but you paid it no mind as you turned the bath tap on, waiting for the water to run hot. Behind you, Geto changed out of his ruined uniform, and you willed yourself not to look. Silence settled over the two of you again, but you knew this time it was because you were deep in thought. Once the tub was full, you turned the tap off, stepping back to allow Geto to climb in. He thanked you softly before stepping in, but your eyes were fixed on the floor as your cheeks heated. When you looked up again, you saw that he was mostly submerged by the water, the ends of his inky hair soaked and curling as it floated in the crystalline water. He watched you expectantly, his gaze sweet and warm, like honey, as you rolled your sleeves up.

Carefully, you poured some of the water over his hair using a cup. You then reached for the shampoo. After pouring a dollop onto your palms, you massaged it onto his scalp. He leaned back, sighing softly as you washed his hair, fingernails gently scratching his skull.

“Where are you going next?” You started, continuing to wash his hair.

Geto hummed pensively, “Who knows… Where do you want to go?”

Your hands froze in place. “I never said I’d go.”

“Right,” Geto said, “but you will, won’t you?”

“No.” You replied, defensively.

“No?” He sounded amused.

“Nope.”

“In that case, maybe I’ll go abroad…”

You swallowed, “How far?”

“Maybe somewhere pretty like Croatia.”

“…That’s far.”

“It is.” Geto agreed.

“Can I convince you to stay?”

“Nope.”

“Ok.” You frowned, resuming the movement of your fingers in his hair. After a moment you stopped again, “What if I promised to join you later?”

Geto sat up.

“I have too many loose ends,” You added, “I don’t want to regret this.”

“How long?”

You exhaled, slowly, “Maybe a year or two?”

Geto looked at you over his shoulder, his stare dark, “That’s long.”

“Well,” Meeting his gaze, you raised an eyebrow, “I hope you’re willing to wait for me, then.”

“I am.” His response was quick, maybe even too quick as it took you off guard.

“Ok.” You nodded slowly, “That works.”

The rest of the bath was quiet, the two of you in contemplating the decisions being made. Only the lulling waves of the water, lapping against the white porcelain tub, alongside both of your soft breaths filled the otherwise silent room. Geto’s hair was silky as you ran your fingers through it. In the light of the bathroom, you noticed how the finer strands looked more chocolate than black, notes of hazel glittering amongst the glistening, dark locks. You squeezed the excess water out of his hair, then dried your hands on your trousers. Afterwards, you moved to stand in front of the bath so that you could see his face. He looked elegant. It seemed that he had either lost, or chosen not to wear his gauges as his gaping earlobes hung, empty. You realised then that you had never seen him without them before. It was different. Previously, you had brushed his hair away from his face, allowing you to see him without obstruction, and you thanked yourself for it now. His face was chiselled, everything about him seeming so sharp from his cheekbones, to his jawline. There seemed to be more colour behind his tanned skin, at least more than there used to be. The purple blotching under his brooding eyes was still there from months of exhaustion, but his facial expressions no longer held that lingering fatigue anymore. He looked healthier, happier even, than he had for a while. Geto’s thin eyebrows were raised as he stared at you, no doubt because you were staring at him. You couldn’t help it though, the way droplets tumbled down his broad shoulders was hypnotising and you almost wanted to condemn the water for concealing the rest of his body under a thick layer of bubbles.

“Are you done?” Geto drawled, sounding equal parts charmed and bored.

You cocked your head, furrowing your eyebrows, “No, not quite.” You muttered, absentmindedly.

He really was beautiful.

In that moment you understood every girl who had given you death glares for standing with him, and every girl who had boldly asked for his number. God knows, you’d be too scared to. You pitied that they were never able to see him like this. Every girl deserved this at least once, you thought, it was definitely more therapeutic than anything a psychiatrist could offer you.

Lethargically, you stretched your arms above your head, yawning. “Ok, yeah I’m done.”

For a second, it seemed that Geto was trying to glare at you, but starting with the slight twitch of his mouth, he broke into soft, flustered laughter.

“Fuck,” He ran a hand over his face. “You really are something, aren’t you?”

Suddenly unsure of how to respond, you looked at him, wide-eyed, your cheeks burning.

Geto smiled at you affectionately, “Just pass me my towel, please.”

You nodded, reaching for the white, fluffy towel you had left out for him. When Geto made a move to get out, you covered your eyes.

“I was meaning to ask,” His voice sounded somewhere behind you, “how come you’re still wearing your uniform?”

Oh yeah.

“I didn’t exactly intend to fall asleep like this, you know.” Your hand moved from your face to pull at the creased fabric, self-consciously. “I was kinda distracted yesterday.”

“Oh?” The rustling of Geto’s clothing paused. “How come?”

You scoffed, “Because you went missing? I had the news on and everything.”

“You did?” He cooed, teasingly, pulling a shirt over his head, judging from what you could hear.

“…Yes.” You scowled.

The way he said your name after that was far softer than you had ever heard it before. It made you feel warm in every nook and cranny of your body, like fire spreading from your cheeks, and flickering inwards to consume your beating heart. When you felt his hand land on your shoulder, you tensed, chewing on the inside of your cheek with anticipation.

“I’m sorry.” He said, voice low and smooth.

You turned to see him changed into a white t-shirt and grey joggers. “Really?”

Geto nodded, “I didn’t realise that you’d worry.”

“Of course I would.” You looked up at him, carefully studying his face.

“I know it’s selfish but… I’m glad you did.”

His confession made you smile warmly.

“Stay the night.” It wasn’t a question, you knew that he wouldn’t be able to find a hotel room at this time.

Geto shook his head, “You know I can’t, my room is directly next to Satoru’s. It’s too risky.”

You rolled your eyes, fondly, “Stay in mine, then. Shoko won’t wake up until 3 in the afternoon.”

He opened his mouth to protest.

“This is non-negotiable, by the way.” You added.

His mouth closed.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

By the time Geto had tucked himself into your bed, you had changed into pyjamas. It was cute seeing him snuggled next to your plushies, it just seemed so… right. You climbed in next to him, unable to close the gap between you, despite yourself. Admittedly, you had been expecting some kind of argument over who would take the bed and who would offer to sleep on the floor but end up taking the bed anyway, but much to your relief, Geto seemed too exhausted to care. You weren’t going to complain. For a while, you just watched each other, wordlessly, eyes half-lidded.

“Will you be gone when I wake up?”

You knew the answer, but you asked anyway.

Geto shifted under the covers, brushing his hand against yours. “Probably.”

“Shame.”

He watched you for a moment, moving his hand to cup your cheek. Like many times that night, you met his gentle gaze, leaning into his touch, gingerly.

“A year is a long time.” Geto murmured.

You agreed.

“It’s a long time to wait to do something I’ve been wanting to do for months.”

Fuck anything you had said before about being tired, you were wide awake.

“Excuse me?”

Geto smiled at you, lopsidedly, “Sorry if I read you wrong but… I like you. I really do.”

“And…” You swallowed.

“I want to say goodbye to you… properly.”

Fuck.

“I’d like that, Geto.” You whispered.

Before you knew it, he was on top of you, muscular thighs hugging your hips. You sat up, hands reaching to pull him down by his collar. When your lips crashed into his, you felt euphoric. As his warm lips moved against yours, your hands moved to his hips, slipping under his t-shirt to trace the ridges of his abs. You felt his muscles tense as you touched them, paired with a low ‘fuck’, whispered into your mouth. When Geto leaned back to peel his shirt off, you instantly missed his body, but the sight of his torso in full was… jaw-dropping. Without doubt, you knew that he was the kind of man that the Ancient Greeks erected temples for. Everything about him was beautiful, from the dusky areola which orbited his nipples, to the trail of hair below his navel. You swallowed, running your hands up his torso. In response, Geto leaned down, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

Next to go was your shirt, which ended up on your floor next to his. Geto’s hands were quick to cup your breasts, fingers brushing the sensitive nubs as he gently squeezed them. You whimpered, softly, looking up at his focused face.

“Please…” You arched your back, pushing your chest towards him. He swore under his breath before pushing you down so you were horizontal. In an act of fleeting tenderness, he brushed your hair from your face, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, before attacking your neck with bites and kisses. You gasped as his hands roamed downwards, grazing over your stomach before his fingers strayed under your waistband. He paused his work on your neck to look up at you, silently checking on you with a sweet smile. You nodded, slipping one of your hands into his damp hair as you guided his head back to your neck. Without hesitation, he started pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin, no doubt leaving a myriad of marks. When his hand breached your pyjama bottoms, cupping your cunt with excruciating affection, your stomach erupted with butterflies.

“How- do you- want- me?” He asked you between kisses, nose buried in the crook of your neck.

You swore, hips uselessly pushing against his touch, “I’m really not picky.” You rushed, becoming more and more desperate for his touch.

Geto snorted, pressing a gentle kiss against the column of your throat, “That’s not very helpful, sweetheart.”

“Just- touch me!” You whined, impatiently, your grip on his hair tightening. As you tugged, Geto made a low noise at the back of his throat.

“Whore.” You laughed breathlessly as he playfully bit down on your neck, his fingers finally slipping between your folds.

Geto smirked into your neck and you could feel it. “I wouldn’t be getting so cocky, if I were you.” He warned, circling your clit with his fingertip.

“Do your worst.” You grinned, pulling his face back to yours to make out with him again. When you pulled his hair again, he moaned against your lips oh-so prettily, fuelling the burning lust inside of you. You were hyper-aware of every graze of his skin against you, somehow his fingers against you felt 10 times better than you own and it made you insatiable. You could feel the coil in your lower stomach begin to snap as Geto’s tongue fucked your mouth, shamelessly moaning against your tongue. You were so close, soso close…

Geto pulled away, watching you with a grin. “Sorry, sweetheart.” He kissed your cheek, apologetically, “I’m impatient, and I really fucking need you right now.”

Despite your initial frustration, his words set your heart alite as you whined. He grunted as he lifted his hips, enabling you to kick your pyjama bottoms off, hastily. When you spread your legs for him, he sat back, using his middle and index finger to spread your dripping folds.

“Fuck.” He breathed, pressing his thumb against your entrance, “You’re soaked.”

Your hips involuntarily jutted into his touch, desperately searching for more.

“Geto, please.” You begged, hands clenching your sheets. His eyes flickered up to yours, his gaze dark.

“Suguru.” He muttered, starting to palm himself through his joggers, “Please. Call me Suguru.”

In the moonlight, the outline of his cock looked more impressive than any Renaissance painting you’d ever seen. You needed him so badly it hurt.

“Fuck, Suguru…” You pressed your thighs together, needily, as you watched him pull his joggers down, his cock hard and heavy, springing to stand against his lower stomach.

He was big.

No fuck that, he was massive.

You knew you had never even tried anything that big in your life, but maybe it was the way his precum dribbled down his thick shaft, you didn’t feel nervous at all.

Geto leaned in to kiss you softly, uttering gentle praise as he pressed his leaking tip to your entrance. Your fingers found purchase around his neck, fingernails digging in at the ache of the intrusion.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Geto groaned against your lips, “Fuck, you feel so good, so fucking wet for me…”

Once he was halfway in, he slowed to kiss your cheek. “Such a good fucking girl.”

Impatiently, you rocked your hips against him, making him slide in further. You moaned, gasping at the feeling of being so full.

Geto wasn’t faring so well either, letting low whines slip as he inched in a little more until his hips were flush with yours.

His eyes met yours desperately, “You ok?” He swallowed, watching you carefully as you adjusted.

“Mhm.” You uttered, weakly, “You can move.”

Geto nodded, cheeks flushed, as he experimentally fucked into you, the steady slapping of your skin speeding up as you begged him for more. With a groan, he buried his head in your neck, releasing soft pants and grunts against your bruised skin. You cried out, nails raking down his back as his pace bordered on lethal as he pounded into you, forcing your body up and down your bed.

“Mhmm, ‘Sugu!” You whined, arching your back as he pressed inside of you. Geto nipped your neck, hands securing your hips as he changed his angle, hitting that sweet spot inside of you that made you drool.

“Right there- right there- please-“

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he abused your cunt, the wetness soaking the insides of your thighs and no doubt Geto’s crotch as well.

“Right there?” He teased, but his voice was husky and it was clear he was approaching his peak from the way he grunted after. One of his hands moved from its position on your hips, instead pressing down on your lower stomach. You wailed, thrashing against him as the burning pressure in your lower stomach climbed. You were so close.

“Fuck, please- Suguru I need you-” You were cut off by Geto’s lips as his hand moved to where you needed it the most, his fingers rubbing your sensitive clit. His pace sped up as he chased his own orgasm, the heat of your core irresistible to him.

“Fuck.” Geto groaned, “Can I?”

Your thighs tightened around his waist against your will. “Fuck no.” You hissed between kisses.

“Shit.”

It was too good, you didn’t want him to pull out, and you knew sure as hell that he didn’t either. You couldn’t risk it though.

With a final pinch of your swollen clit, you came, legs shaking and fingers tugging at his hair as you cried out. Geto wasn’t far behind, swearing as he pulled out despite your legs trapping him in.

With a few final tugs of his length, he came on your stomach, panting as he watched his spend dripped down your thighs.

“Fuck.”

“…Yeah…”

You closed your eyes, basking in the sleepiness of the aftermath. Somewhere next to you, Geto moved, leaning over you before you felt soft fabric on your lower stomach, cleaning up his mess on your body and your own mess between your thighs.

“Thanks.” You muttered, sleepily.

When Geto finally lay down next to you, he pulled you into his arms, kissing your forehead tenderly.

“I’ll see you again one day.” He whispered against your skin.

“You will.” You murmured, ignoring the lump in your throat, “One day.”

Geto released a content hum which vibrated in his chest and throat.

“I miss you already.”

[arlestial]

❝trick me once, trick me twice❞

synopsis : "A lie can destroy a relationship in a second", they’ve said. Isagi would be the first to agree, if he wasn’t lying to you so frequently.

pairing : Isagi Yoichi x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : Fluff (mentions of reader wearing a dress)

word count : ~ 3800 words

author-note : Hi !! It’s been a while I haven’t written for my favorite 🫶🏻 I came back from my vacations in Austria (it’s probably the prettiest country I have ever visited, by the way) and I’m glad to write for y’all again ! Thank you for all your likes and reblogs on my last post, I was very touched :( <3 Not proofread, I’ve been writing this while my car was getting fixed 😭 Reblogs are very appreciated !! Anyways, take care of yourselves ♡

ISAGI YOICHI’s parents had always told him not to lie. And when he was a kid, he agreed; lying was a bad thing. "It could hurt people around you," his mum said once. While growing-up, he obviously disobeyed, and lied; but he tried to stick to this old mantra of his, avoiding it at all costs. Telling the truth was far more beneficial, after all. Lying would only lead to complications, fights, and an overall loss of trust. And he didn’t want that, of course. Nobody would.

When ISAGI YOICHI and you got together, he quickly became a version of himself he feared to be, a version of himself he promised to stay away from. It was surprising how easily he was lying to you, and how trustful you were, believing everything he’d say. It was utterly frustrating — not because of you being too credulous about his words — but because he wasn’t feeling any guilt at all. Why ? Since lying turned into the most beneficial, advantageous and the quickest way to obtain what he wanted. People can’t be hurt about things they aren’t aware of, right ?

ISAGI YOICHI started his scheming with the weather. At first, he tried to convince himself it wasn’t too perverse, but he quickly realized it was. When you asked him to check the weather to see if it was hot enough outside this evening to wear a dress for your date, he replied yes without even looking. He knew it’ll be chilly when you’ll both get out of the restaurant. But he lied.

You shivered when the breeze hit the bare skin of your arms, goosebumps forming immediately after Isagi opened the door of the restaurant for you to walk out. You turned to look at him.

"It’s colder than what I expected. You said it would be hot, right ?"

Isagi approached you, a frown displayed on his features — he delicately ran his hand on your arm, feeling the soft skin under his palms.

"Yeah, I thought so too. The weather app’s forecasts were wrong, I guess."

You sighed, and at this very moment, he knew you had believed him. He smiled to himself, and took off his coat, draping you with it.

"Here. I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, would I, baby ?"

You hummed softly, thanking him; he even got a kiss from you as a reward for his kindness. Well, now, he could see you in his clothes and in a dress at the same time, which was definitely a success. He didn’t even have to ask you to wear his stuff anymore — everything was already planned, even when you were coming over.

"I was sure I left one of my shirts in your drawer, though."

"It’s not a big deal, babe. I have plenty I can lend you."

And now he had you, in his bed, curled up against him while you were both watching a movie, wearing his shirt. What you obviously didn’t know, was that you did have a shirt in his drawer. Such a coincidence it was under all of his…

ISAGI YOICHI’s lies didn’t stop at the weather. No, now that he was assured you believed him, he could continue his shenanigans without the fear of getting caught. You are going to eat something warm ? Wait ! You shouldn’t, you could singe your tongue. Let him take the first bite first, just to make sure it’s riskless for you to eat.

"Can I taste it ?"

"You already took a bite earlier," You replied with a lifted eye-brow, perplexed by his demand.

"Yeah, but I didn’t really enjoy the taste, you know. I was too busy wondering if it’d burn you."

"Fine. But don’t take a big bite, I’m still hungry."

"Of course, darling. I’d never."

He carefully took a bite of your food, with your fork — or chopsticks, depending on the plate — humming as he felt the sweet savour you were experiencing just before on his own tongue.

"It’s not bad."

"Right ? I love it."

He killed two birds with the same stone. Sure, he appreciated to eat, but it was irrelevant here. He ate from the same fork as you — so you two kissed indirectly. He was a bit ashamed to lie about not remembering the taste of your food. He did, but he wanted to kiss you. But who could blame him ? He just wanted to be as close as possible with you, and he couldn’t touch you directly all the time. It was a tad embarrassing to ask for kisses, too.

ISAGI YOICHI also helps you when you want to wear several necklaces at the same time. It’s plain frustrating when you try to fasten them without tying a chain to the wrong one. But don’t worry, Isagi has your back. He wouldn’t let you struggle by yourself when he has the opportunity to do it for you.

"They’re tangled, darling."

"They are ? I swear to god—", you groaned, ready to fight with the pendants around your neck.

"Turn around for me," He told you, and you did. Of course. He brushed your hair to the side, allowing himself to look at the ties of the necklaces. They weren’t tangled at all. But it wouldn’t be fun if they weren’t. He removed each one of your perfectly tied chains, before carefully fastening them again — his hands lingering on your skin longer than necessary.

"Here you go, babe," He finally muttered, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, earning a smile from you. His favorite reward.

If lying was that bad, why did it feel so good ?

[quasi-normalcy]

Actually, you know what? Ever since I learned that Ira Steven Behr signed that grossly unfair letter against Jonathan Glazer, I've been forced to kind of reevaluate some of my interpretations of things in Deep Space Nine.

Like Section 31. I was willing to suppose that it was always and only intended to be villainous. But knowing as I do now that the showrunner who included it is perfectly willing to turn a blind eye to genocide, I'm forced to wonder...was it critical? Was it?

Like, let's consider canon here. In "Statistical Probabilities", Bashir and the other augments calculate, in no uncertain terms, that the Federation can't win its war with the Dominion. Their model even accurately forecasts things that happen later in the series: the Romulans declaring war on the Dominion; a full-scale revolt on Cardassia Prime. The end of the episode kind of pooh-poohs their model, like, "Well you couldn't even forecast what Serena would do in this room" but like...(1) the premise is basically lifted from Asimov's psychohistory concept, which works on populations rather than individuals, and (2) there's even a line of dialogue in the episode saying that the models become *less* uncertain the further you go in time. And indeed, the Federation ultimately wins the war not because any of their assumptions were wrong, but because there was another factor that they weren't aware of: the Changeling plague. The plague that had, of course, been engineered by Section 31 to exterminate the Changelings.

So again you have to ask: *was* this critical? Or was the real message that a black ops division willing to commit genocide is necessary to preserve a "utopian" society, no matter how squeamish it makes a naïve idealist like Bashir? And yeah, the war is ultimately won by an act of compassion, but only *after* Bashir sinks to S31's level by kidnapping Sloane and invading his mind with illicit technology. So...is this really a win for idealism?

And then we have the Jem'Hadar. They're a race of slave soldiers, genetically engineered to require a compound that only the Changelings can give them. By any reasonable standard, they're victims. And yet, the series goes out of its way, especially in "The Abandoned", to establish that they're irredeemable. You can't save them. Victims of colonialism they may be, but your only choice is to kill them, or else they--preternaturally violent almost from the moment that they're born--*will* kill you. And of course, I've long assumed that this was just a really unfortunate attempt to subvert what had become the standard "I, Borg" style Star Trek trope where your enemies become less scary once you get to know them, but like. I would say that there's pretty close to a one-to-one correspondence between this premise and the ideology excusing the mass murder of children in Gaza.

Or the Maquis. There's this line at the start of "For the Uniform" where Sisko tells Eddington that he regards the refugees in the Demilitarized Zone as being "Victims of the Maquis", because they've kept alive the forlorn hope that they would ever be allowed to return to their homes and...Jesus, when I write it out like that, Hello, Palestinian Right of Return. [The episode of course ends with Sisko bombing a Maquis colony with chemical weapons, though it is somewhat less objectionable in practice than I'm making it sound here].

And you know what...I get that DS9 is a show that's intended to have moral complexity, and to be kind of ambiguous in a lot places, and not to give you simple answers and so on. And I'm *not* trying to do the standard JK Rowling/ Joss Whedon/ Justin Roiland thing where a creator falls from grace for whatever reason and people comb through their oeuvre to show that they were always wicked and fans were stupid for not seeing it earlier or whatever. But I will say that these things hit different when you know that the series was show-run for five seasons, comprising every episode that I've just named, by a man who would go on to sign his name to a letter maliciously quoting Jonathan Glazer out of context to drag him for condemning an active genocide. And given that I've been a fan of DS9 for basically my entire life, this is deeply unsettling to me.

[lizardaggro]

on the flip side (twst bully!au) pt 3

here we are, the long-awaited (it was literally like 1 day) part 3!! i wanted to declare on one of the actual chapters since those get seen by the most people that I DID NOT MAKE THIS AU, credit i believe goes to @azulsluver. i swear i don't hate you guys, leaving everything on a cliffhanger, but the good news is i have a lot of time on my hands due to chronic illness so i can update super often. also i gave up on the purple theme on posts bc tumblr hates me and always leaves the end of the word count black.

part 1 part 2

genre: gn reader, angst trigger warnings: bullying, mild yandere (will be escalating throughout the series, but no non-con) word count: 1246

You couldn’t really afford to space out and think about it though, not when he was right in front of you. Riddle tapped his foot impatiently, clearly irate at your lack of response. “Well?” He asked. “Do you not even have anything to say in your defense?”

Oh dear. However were you supposed to get rid of him when he was so intent on getting some sort of answer out of you? You had no idea what he wanted! He was more difficult to threaten, too, since you’d made up your mind that you didn’t want to be like your tormentors and completely ruin others’ lives. No, your end goal was just to make them leave you alone. After everything you’d been through, you really didn’t want to see them again.

It might seem strange to some people, that you weren’t dead set on destroying any semblance of normalcy they once had. You had all the ammunition you needed, of course. The Overblot victims would be the easiest to topple, considering what they’d done in and leading up to that state. But you didn’t think you were a particularly vengeful person; at least, you didn’t want to be. Crowley had always said that you must’ve been sent here to get his precious students to work together, so clearly you weren’t like them.

“I never asked for this, Riddle. Any of this. So if you think somewhere in your fucked-up mentality that you’re doing me some sort of favor, you’re dead wrong,” you intoned. Indeed, even though you just wanted them gone, you missed the days when you were all friends. Back when you thought everyone had your back no matter what. Oh, if only you knew what they’d do for you. It wouldn’t be hard at all to push some of the more unstable students over the edge. Those who felt they didn’t have anyone else. Much like a certain dragon fae who never did seem to get invited to things.

Riddle looked like he was about to say something, but before he could, he was drenched by a great torrential rain. Where did that come from? Didn’t the forecast say it was supposed to be clear skies and sunny for the rest of the week? Your question was soon answered, as you had two more visitors.

“Silver? Sebek? What brings you here?” You inquired, not at all amused. When those two showed up at the same time, it could only mean one thing, and it wasn’t good. Riddle looked like he had caught on as well, since he stepped in front of you, as if that would do any good.

“LORD MALLEUS REQUESTS YOUR PRESENCE!!” Sebek boomed. You’d made progress on his volume in the past, so you were sure he did it just to annoy you. Silver just stared. He always stared, you felt like. Sometimes you swore you could feel his eyes on you even when he was nowhere to be found.

“Oh, gee, I wonder what that’s about,” you snarked. “Poor little princey-poo doesn’t want his embarrassing little secrets getting out? Well you can tell him to fuck off.” You must’ve been feeling especially brave, since normally you knew that defying Malleus Draconia was as good as a death sentence. He wasn’t even that bad, compared to some of the others. He just… locked you in his room and made you listen to him talk, with no room to get a word in edgewise. He’d go on and on about one thing or another for HOURS, with no regard for your schedule or your bodily needs. Clearly fae had a different sense of time than most.

It was the loss of control over your own life that you hated; that, and that if he really still considered you a friend, he never bothered to do anything about your bullies. You knew he was more than capable; you’d witnessed his strength firsthand on multiple occasions. You didn’t know what his endgame was, and frankly you were too scared to find out. He could trap you there forever and you wouldn’t be able to do a single thing about it.

Sebek was not amused. He raised an arm, likely to strike you, but Silver placed a hand on it, effectively stopping him. “Don’t. You wouldn’t want Lord Malleus to see a bruise on them,” he reasoned. You didn’t get it. Since when would he care? Sebek roughly shoved Riddle out of the way, despite all his objections, and nonchalantly slung you over his shoulder.

“What the hell?!” You screeched, pounding your fists on his back. “Put me down! I’m not going!” You weren’t sure why you were objecting so vehemently; this time wasn’t any different than the others. But something about the dark gray clouds pouring rain on what should’ve been a lovely day just told you that this was not going to be good.

But alas, your plight was ignored. The three of you made your way to Diasomnia in silence. No one bothered to stop and stare in the halls, as you being carried off by people was somewhat of a normal occurrence. You could swear Savannahclaw and Diasomnia even had some sort of twisted capture-the-flag game going, for whatever reason.

When you entered the gothic-style castle, you were greeted by none other than Lilia. Much like Malleus, he’d never bothered you too terribly, only engaging in less-than-welcome pranks. You knew he was far older than he let on, so you supposed he didn’t see the point in such childish endeavors. There was, however, one thing you feared about the man: his cooking, which he tried to shove down your throat at every opportunity. How Silver grew up healthy you’d never know.

And so, of course, you were greeted by a plate of… well, goop, to put it nicely. “Here, have a seat, dear, I made lasagna,” Lilia offered with what you assumed was supposed to be a warm smile. To you in that moment, with the fumes starting to reach your nose, it looked like a shit-eating grin.

“I’ll pass, thanks. That is to say, I’d rather die than eat that shit, because it looks and smells like it’ll send me straight to hell,” you deadpanned. Sebek let out an unholy screech and started ranting about how dare you refuse Lord Lilia, even though you knew he wouldn’t want to eat it either. You did your best to tune him out. Silver looked relieved, surprisingly enough. You supposed he was able to empathize since he grew up eating the stuff.

Luckily for you, Lilia just sighed and walked off, taking his culinary abomination with him. The three of you who remained shared a look. “How are you still alive after all these years?” You asked Silver. He shrugged. If even he didn’t know, you’d just call it a miracle.

“SILVER, QUIT FRATERNIZING WITH THE ENEMY! LORD MALLEUS IS WAITING!” Sebek practically screamed in your ear. You really wished he would stop doing that. But you had more important things to worry about, like your impending death by dragon fae. Once you arrived at Malleus’s room, Sebek set you down and pushed you inside. You heard the lock click behind you. You gulped, feeling the pressure of being alone in a room with a presumably angry and very powerful mage. You looked up to see a pair of emerald eyes staring you down. Oh boy, this was not going to be fun.

taglist: @twistedcece @slxt4h1m @teawhere @pleasehugmeaether @reivelmin @aoiyx

[chan-skz]

Makeup - Bang Chan

His fingers were delicate. He was so close to you, you weren't used to such closeness. You prayed he couldn't notice the growing blush on your cheeks, as his gaze was focused on your makeup. You made the mistake of leaving your house without an umbrella, not having bothered to check the weather forecast, thus finding yourself stuck in the rain, ruining completely your hair and makeup.

"You're so stupid." Chan said slightly coldly, tearing his gaze away from you for a short moment to change accessories. You pouted, crossing your arms. He wasn't wrong, you should have thought better.

You decided to ignore his comment, watching him cleverly place a bit of the concealer against the back of his hand and lightly tap your beauty blender against it. At least you had the decency to bring your makeup bag with you. “I didn’t know you knew how to put on makeup.” Speaking of makeup, you didn't even know that he was an expert on that either.

"Don’t judge me, but I watched several videos just in case my girl friends needed help. And also I sometimes had to retouch my own makeup behind the scenes during concerts." He added calmly with a small grin on his face. But his expression quickly returned to focus as he began to apply the cosmetic on your skin. "So yes, I can manage to do it. I'm telling you all that because by the look on your face, you look rather surprised."

The sweet smile he gave you made your heart race. But you pushed all feelings aside, you had no chance. Not only was he your friend, but also an extremely coveted man. After all, how could such a perfect man be attracted to someone like you? So many girls would dream of being in your shoes right now. He could easily get girls much more beautiful and experienced than you in a snap of a finger.

"Are you okay?" He snapped you out of your thoughts, his gaze boring into yours. You nodded slightly, smiling softly at him. “From the way you look, you’re clearly not okay.”

You tried to reassure him but he cut you off directly. “Do you want me to make you feel better?” You stare at him, not knowing what his next move. Before you could even retort, his face moved closer to yours. "Can I?" His gaze was fixed on your lips. You didn't know what to say. Your face was red like a tomato, you slowly nodded it. This was the last thing you would’ve expect from him.

His lips were soft and delicious. Kissing your own friend had never been on your bingo of the year, but here you are, sharing a soft kiss that he himself had requested. Quickly, the makeup was forgotten and the kiss became more intense. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his hands came to grip your hips.

Suddenly he withdrew. "I forgot you had makeup on. Sorry I didn’t want to ruin it for you again." It was clear he didn't mean it. Seeing your lipstick ruined turned him on so much, but was he even going to admit it to you?

You laughed, knowing that this heated exchange had already done it. "You're telling me that when it already happened. Look at yourself in the mirror, your lips and the area around your mouth are completely stained." You wanted to kiss him again when you saw that it was his turn to be flustered by your comment. You took this opportunity to tease him even more.

“You know, you can ruin my makeup however you want and even further.” You smirked lewdly, gently sliding your hand down his chest to his crotch, clearly insinuating your desire for more than a kiss. In a flash he took your hand and pulled you towards another room. It all happened so quickly that your brain only registered the fact that you were now on his bed, him leaning against you.

“Say that again?” Now you were the one being humbled. You didn't expect this turnaround, even less from him. He had always been the shy type, although sometimes he could be bold. It was all part of his personality, but right now the person you were facing wasn't the same Chan you knew.

Suddenly you lost your voice, you didn't dare look at him, feeling ashamed.

Before you could even open your mouth, you felt his lips exploring your neck. A small moan escaped your lips when he coincidentally found your sensitive spot. You couldn’t help but wrap your legs around his hips and arms around his shoulders, pulling him as close to you as possible. Doing so, you could feel his bulge against your core.

“Fuck don’t do that, baby. If you keep provoking me I won’t be able to hold back any longer.” He said in a deep voice in your ear. His tone gave you chills and he felt it. You were going to retaliate, but before you could even get a word out of your mouth he pulled away from you and knelt between your legs. His hands firmly grabbed your panties and a dirty smirk crowned his face. "Silly me, I completely forgot that you gave me permission to ruin your beautiful makeup. I’ll be happy to do so and honey, forget my words, I’m not going to hold back on you.”

[ithinkabouttzu]

141 + König’s reaction to you changing in front of them! (18+)

Genre! Smut

Warnings! Swearing; sexual content MDNI

Description! 141 squad and König’s reaction to you (who is also apart of the 141) changing in front of them! (with exception to soaps bc his is a little different)

(fem! reader)

König: He needed to use the bathroom, bad. He had been holding it since you’d been in the shower and didn’t want to disturb you, but he was getting a little impatient now. Finally after 10 long minutes of hearing the shower turn off, he thought you were finally out. He was of course, wrong. When he opened the door all he could see was you in a small shirt changing into your panties. He quickly shut the door before hearing you sigh in embarrassment from the other side of the door. “I’m sorry Mein Schatz, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He says slightly knocking on the door. He felt bad, but a small part of him was hoping to get a glimpse of your bare pussy again. It was cute, and oh so perfect. His stomach was bubbling with some sort of excitement, or maybe was it happiness? Either way he’d take any other chance from now on to see that pretty cunt of yours.

John Price: When you walked into the room not saying a word, he didn’t think anything of it. Maybe you just wanted some alone time, or peace and quiet from the other guys. He sits quietly with you as he does his paperwork, waiting for you to say something until he hears rustling behind him. He turns his head out of instinct to see you, changing out of your shirt. Revealing your red laced bra to him, exposing almost all of your skin. He takes a big breath in, trying to erase the immediate dirty thoughts of ripping off that little bra of yours and sucking on those gorgeous tits, out of his brain. “What are you doing, love?” He asks, his voice deep and low. “Oh just changing out of my old shirt, sorry it got soaked in the rain earlier.” You laugh, quickly changing into your shirt. You knew exactly what you were doing. He smiles back as you leave before returning to his work, although the hard-on in his pants kept him from focusing on anything for the rest of the day. Except for day-dreaming about bending you over on his desk and having his way with you all day long.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick : He was walking into the barracks after a long day, looking for you. He needed to ask you a question, it was something about the last mission you guys were on. He walks in the room to find you in it. Naked in only your bra and panties. He forgets where he is for a second, and he goes temporarily brain dead when he sees how nicely your panties hug your ass. He has to aggressively blink himself out of his trance and clear his throat to gain your attention. “Ah! You scared me, Gaz, what’s up?” You asked him. Making his stomach twist at the nickname. “Oh u-uh nothing, sorry for bothering you” He says quickly. Leaving before you can say anything back to him. Blood rushing immediately to his cock after the image of you practically naked popped up in his head. For the rest of the day he’d replay the memory of you in your undergarments, and quickly having to dismiss the thoughts before getting a boner.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish: You and him had both decided to go for a morning run earlier last night. It was a nice switch up from the usual sleeping late. Also staying fit was always a priority for your line of work. It was supposed to be a sunny out. At least that’s what the forecast said, until dark clouds rolled in out of nowhere and you two were being completely soaked by the wicked rain. It was rough, wet, and most of all absolutely unfortunate because you were wearing a completely see-through white shirt that exposed your whole top half to him. He was shocked to say the least. The way your shirt stuck to you, the dips between your chest, the way it sculpted your waist perfectly, it was almost hard for him not to look. “Uhm, let’s try to find some shelter” He said politely, trying his best not to look anywhere he shouldn’t. “I guess we should go on rainy runs more often.” He muttered softly under his breath.

Simon “Ghost” Riley: He was just meaning to grab his gloves before he left. He was also supposed to get you before you guys had to leave to a new mission. “Where is she, she’s taking forever.” Gaz sighed under his breath. All of them were waiting for your arrival. Ghost walked to the barracks in hopes of finding you somewhere in there. He walked straight into your room and stopped immediately. He found you. There you were, shirtless with your tits out for him to see completely. “fuck” He muttered under his breath. A familiar feeling started racing straight to his cock. The same reaction he got whenever he thinks of you like this. You’re like a deer caught in headlights. Frozen, staring up at him with your big doe eyes. He had to stop himself from walking over and helping you put your clothes on himself. “We’ve got to be out in 5” He says in a low voice, almost hard to hear, before pushing himself out of the room. The image of your pretty tits would be replaying in his brain whenever he thinks of you. Quickly having to think of something else before he got a raging hard-on.

Sorry if this was inaccurate or not so good, it’s my first mw post tho!!! Anyway, hope you all enjoy. If so like or reblog if you want :)