#ily. have i told u that lately

[deklo]

i’m wearing high top converse for the first time in years and i cannot believe i used to do PE in these. i used to run the mile in these stupit things

[ghost-proofbaby]

Just turned my friends to read all of the shire is burning and got them into so mordor it is… all we are thinking about!! Cant wait for the next update 😍

oh that’s so damn adorable 😭 it’s good to form that support system now before the nonstop angst train arrives

i mean, what? who said that? psh, not me.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but everything worked out in the end.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

like a sleepy puppy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: ???? okok 😭 you: im omw ig??

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

satoru notices you first.

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

”hey, guys.”

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

and there he is. 

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

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

and when your eyes meet his, he lights up.

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

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

(gosh, he’s cute.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

a moment passes. the stars burn in silence.

satoru blinks.

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

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

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

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

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

”take care of him, alright?”

”i will. you guys have fun!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”— and i have you.”

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

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

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

”my angel.” 

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

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

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

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

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

(you’re so, so pretty.)

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

— he boops your nose.

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

silence. you look up at him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

so you settle for the second best option.

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

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

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

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

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

but you have other plans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but it’s so overwhelming. 

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

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

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

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

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

but you say his name with such warmth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

a moment passes.

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

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

marry.

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

(but suguru says it with such tenderness.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

i love you, too.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

slacker.

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

asshole.

(c’mon. you said you loved me, right?

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

idiots.

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

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

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

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

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

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

suguru blinks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

in your throat, your breath hitches.

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

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

you pause. 

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

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

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

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

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

he’s your dork, though.

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

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

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

everything finally feels just right.

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

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

and wow, is that a heavy word. forever. 

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

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

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

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

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

it means forever.

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

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

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

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

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

all he can think of is forever.)

[ssahotchnerr]

hello my sweet! been reading your stuff a lot lately and the way you write aaron is so beautiful and real but anyway i’ll stop gushing - imagine just EXISTING with aaron. like the both of you doing your evening routines and just being happy and safe in each others prescence like UNF I NEED HIM BIBLICALLY

also also imagine him using his height to tease u like knowing you always use a particular mug so he likes putting it on the top shelf so he can tower over you and press himself against your back under the pretense of “helping” like aaron you little slut we know what you’re trying to do and its mean😠 (do it again)

anyway ily lots and i hope you’ve had a good day n stuff

- Gem💙

routine and a tease

thank you so much my sweet ily!! hehe here's a thing including alllll of that cw; suggestiveness, allusions to sex, mentions of food, aaron being a lil shit <3 wc; 1k

aaron's alarm goes off at seven, yours at seven thirty.

you're notorious for hitting snooze, several times, while aaron promptly rises at the first ring. half the time, you're convinced he even beats his alarm most days.

aaron's finished showering by the time you drag yourself out of bed. steam's still coating the bathroom mirror, the air's a bit thick with the lingering heat, and it fogs into your bedroom. as you enter, he exits, but not without giving you your first kiss of the morning. you hop in the shower next, while aaron dresses and trails out.

being the first awake, aaron has the awakening the apartment duties. he pulls the curtains open, allowing the morning light to flood in. he grabs jack's backpack off the chair at the dining room table, quickly double checks that homework was completed, and that the papers in his folder are orderly and within easy access, according to jack's lesson schedule - science is first, then math, language arts, so on - and back into his backpack it goes. he then double checks to make sure his briefcase and go-bag has everything he needs, he'll retrieve his gun and badge when he heads out later.

aaron sets both by the door, as well as your bag. he knows everything is already prepared and ready to go - you won't go to bed the night prior if it's not. you've told him many times, as not an early riser, why add a reason to rush in the morning if you can help it?

being the first awake also has its advantages, especially when it comes to a certain game aaron is fond of playing. he'll never deny himself the opportunity to poke affectionate fun at you.

and he does so for the other benefit; it does tend you rile you up.

even this, is routine.

you enter the kitchen with a yawn - you passed aaron in the hallway, where he gave you your second kiss of the day, off to jack's room to get him up and at 'em.

aaron's already brewed the coffee, and your creamer is on the counter waiting for you. all you need to do is open the cabinet to retrieve your favorite cup.

it's a mug jack painted you, at one of those pottery and art studios in the city. it was one of your birthday surprises this past year, and it's the only mug you plan on using for the rest of time. you even have a matching plate, aaron's own doing when he accompanied jack at the studio.

no matter how many times aaron pulls the stunt, your reaction is always the same. your brows crumble at the absence - at the empty spot amongst the other mugs. where you had left it the night before after unloading the dishwasher, it's no longer there. and as expected it's on the very top shelf, way out of your reach.

"aaron," you whine, loudly enough it trails out of the kitchen and down the hall.

a moment later aaron enters, a mischievous, knowing glint in his eyes. he knows that whine, but doesn't address it, naturally. "good morning darling. sleep well?"

you narrow your eyes, playfully glaring at him as your arms crossed in front of you. despite your ministrations, a smile tugs at your lips, "i did. you?"

"mhmm." he presses his lips to yours. his eyes quickly flick up to the open cabinet, right to where your mug stands, but remains purposefully oblivious.

you continue to play along. "busy day ahead?"

aaron shrugs, grabbing his mug and pouring his helping. "nothing out of the ordinary. budget meeting, there's a few reports i have to finish, the usual."

you hum in response, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

aaron takes a sip of coffee, only to hide his itching smile. "is there something wrong?"

"is there?" you mock his cheeky tone, and your eyes narrow again. "somehow, my mug isn't where i left it."

"that's strange," aaron feigns confusion, his brows furrowing as his gaze moved upward. "all the way up there? wonder how that happened."

you scoff lightly, turning back to the cupboard. you leaned up on your tiptoes as you attempted to reach for it, anticipating his next move. "yeah, i wonder."

as you expected, aaron's front is suddenly flush against your back, fully crowding you, his mouth at your ear. "lemme help." his voice is low as he reaches up, retrieving your mug with ease. his other hand lands on the spot right above your ass, daring to move lower, and causing your breath to catch in your throat.

but, aaron withdrawals his hand the second he hears the soft breath escape you, grabbing the pot of coffee and pouring it into your mug himself.

mission successful, once again.

you exhale, deeply yet gently, heat filling your cheeks. it's days like these, you'll opt for iced coffee.

some rare mornings though, with jack at jess's and neither you or aaron have anywhere to be, his actions don't stop there. more often than not, the two of you don't even bother to leave the kitchen.

aaron leans up against the counter, silently watching you prepare your coffee to your liking, rather unenthusiastically at that. after your first sip, and another amused glare directed at him, you start pulling out the cereal for breakfast. aaron falls alongside you, beginning to pack jack's lunch - grabbing an uncrustable from the freezer, filling a ziploc of carrots, another of veggie straws.

again, your shared, usual routine.

you're the one to finally break the silence. "one of these days, i'm buying a step stool."

"no you won't," a laugh bursts from him as he grabs a juice box from the fridge, the loudness of it making you grin instantly. he straightens his posture as he stands back upright, a half smile, half smirk plastered on his face. "you enjoy this just as much as i do. even more."

he has you there, and from the expression your face pulls in response, he knows it. a laugh leaves him once more as he crowds you, backing you against the counter and pressing his lips to yours.

"this is the best part of the morning,'' aaron mumbles into your lips. "is it not?"

[eloriis]

TRAITOR - carlos sainz

- inspired by traitor | olivia rodrigo

in which . . y/n struggle with the pain of betrayal after a breakup when carlos quickly moves on with someone else, leaving her questioning their entire relationship and the promises he broke.

warnings : a lowkey toxic relationship if u squint ur eyes at a few sentences, ntg else i think?

notes : second fully written work! ‘heather’ didn’t really do as well as i hoped it would tbh :( but i hope this one does better 🤞🏼 and lexi, i’m sorry if i made you cry but ily my hype girl 🫶🏼

and for a person who usually hates angst, i seem to write them the best 😓

plsplspls don’t ask for a part 2 for fics that do not have any info about them being a series.

type : written ⋆ word count : 1.2k

brown guilty eyes and little white lies, yeah i played dumb, but i always knew

that you talked to her, maybe did even worse

i kept quiet so i could keep you

carlos’ big brown eyes were one of the prettiest ones i had ever seen in her entire life. no matter how common brown eyes were, his eyes would always be the ones i would look for in the crowd. i didn’t know the exact day when the eyes she knew she could always find comfort in suddenly became the ones i started avoiding. it all started with little white lies like “i can’t make it to the date tonight, i have to stay late for practice” or “i’m meeting with the boys tonight! don’t stay up late waiting for me”.

those texts never sat right in my heart; they sounded too fake, too scripted. i could never manage to go too deep into her own thoughts about what he actually might be doing with her while i was waiting for him to come back home.

and ain’t it funny

how you ran to her

the second we called it quits?

i could almost laugh through the pain while reading the new article about you and her being spotted by the paparazzi the day after we called finally ended all those years of being each other’s one and only.

and ain’t it funny

how you said you were friends?

now it sure as hell don’t look like it

he always said that they were just friends, that they were close due to a mutual friend. that’s what he told everyone who asked him about her. but all these recent pictures online don’t really make a good argument against them being a couple.

you betrayed me

and i know that you'll never feel sorry

for the way i hurt, yeah

you’d talk to her

when we were together

loved you at your worst

but that didn't matter

feeling betrayed wasn’t an emotion i was well versed in or had been anticipating to be in this life, clearly fate had other plans.

i kept hoping that i would maybe get a text from you, an apology for all those years of my life wasted on making sure you were okay when you were at your lowest and worst point of your life.

all those years wasted. all because you decided halfway that you wanted her and not me.

it took you two weeks

to go off and date her

guess you didn't cheat

but you're still a traitor

two weeks. that was all it took for you to move on from a relationship that lasted for years. everyone says that you guys look so cute together, maybe if you heard that enough before, you would have ended up with her earlier and not have been labelled a traitor in my heart.

now you bring her around

just to shut me down

show her off like she's a new trophy

we finally ran into each other at a bar almost three months after the breakup. the second you saw me, you pulled her by her waist and kissed her right in front of me, showing her off like she was a new trophy.

and i know if you were true

there’s no damn way that you

could fall in love with somebody that quickly

if you were as true to us as you claimed you were, i’m damn sure that there’s no way you could have actually been able to move on so quickly and fall in love with someone else.

ain��t it funny

all the twisted games

all the questions you used to avoid?

was whatever we had just some sick twisted game to you? one that you oh so badly had to play? all those questions that you always seemed to be too busy to answer suddenly came back to me, they seemed harmless at that time, if only i knew.

ain’t it funny?

remember i brought her up

and you told me i was paranoid

remember that one time i brought her name up during a conversation? how you called me paranoid and sick because of how i was villainising her, i had just asked you if she had to stay with us when she came to visit even though she has friends who live here.

you betrayed me

and i know that you'll never feel sorry

for the way i hurt, yeah

you’d talk to her

when we were together

loved you at your worst

but that didn't matter

you left my life without a second thought, and i know that you will never understand the pain of being the one to be left alone while the other moved on like none of it ever existed. you always wanted her in your life, even when i was right there. i stood by you through everything, through your lowest points, but it didn’t change anything in the end.

it took you two weeks

to go off and date her

guess you didn't cheat

but you're still a traitor

you really wasted no time jumping into her arms, as if what we had didn’t mean anything. maybe you weren’t unfaithful, but seeing the way you moved on so fast hurts the same.

god, I wish that you had thought this through

before i went and fell in love with you

when she's sleeping in the bed we made

don’t you dare forget about the way

i just wish that you had thought about what i would do after you decided that you were bored of me, atleast before i fell in love with you.

i want you to remember how we cuddled, cried, laughed, loved and cared in the same bed that she is now sleeping in.

you betrayed me

'cause i know that you'll never feel sorry

for the way i hurt, yeah

you’d talk to her

when we were together

you gave me your word

but that didn't matter

i realize now that you’ll never take responsibility for breaking my heart. you left me behind without a hint of remorse, as if my feelings were never real to you. even when you promised me forever, she was always there, lurking in the background. your words meant nothing in the end, just empty promises that you broke without a second glance.

it took you two weeks

to go off and date her

guess you didn't cheat

but you're still

you’re still a traitor

yeah, you're still a traitor

two weeks was all it took for you to forget us, to move on like i was nothing. you didn’t break the rules, but you broke my trust, and that’s just as cruel. no matter how much time passes, the sting of betrayal lingers. you might think you’re innocent, but deep down, we both know what you did.

god, i wish that you had thought this through

before i went and fell in love with you

if only you had thought this stupid thing throughout, maybe i wouldn’t be in my bed crying over how much loving you and your beautiful brown eyes had taken from me.

[papaya-twinks]

coffee - l.n - p.2

Warnings: None!

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: Based off of “Coffee” by beabadoobee

Face Claim: beabadoobee

@urstepdaughter

part 1

landonorris

Caption: kidnapped in the back of my van 🚐 liked by y/n, carlossainz55, ciscanorris, maxverstappen1

y/n: why are you like this?

-> landonorris: accept me for who I am 💔

-> y/n: a freak?

-> landonorris: 👍

user1: are y’all even dating tho

-> landonorris: not yet 🙂‍↕️

maxverstappen1: you don’t even have a van though…

-> landonorris: or. do i?

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

y/n

Caption: strapped ‘n’ safe! 😵‍💫 liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, maxverstappen1, maxfewtrell

user1: love how she just has a shit ton of f1 drivers and rich people out of nowhere in her comments

landonorris: how many times did you make me take this 🥰

-> y/n: stfu 🥰

user2: wait so is this the talking stage or what?

-> landonorris: the “we’ve gone on a few dates but it’s been well established she’s MINE” stage

-> user3: ok possessive 💅

user4: “the green in your eyes” to a new level 😍

maxverstappen1: lando norris does not have any respect for safety

-> landonorris: or. do i?

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

y/n

Caption: trying to make an album cover 💿 liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, maxfewtrell

landonorris: just use me as ur album cover

-> y/n: im good 👍

user1: queen always serves omg

user2: oh ma god use Lando as the cover trust

-> y/n: Lando get off ur burner account

-> landonorris: FUCK YOU

maxverstappen1: Lando has no rizz, confirmed

-> landonorris: or. do i?

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

landonorris

Caption: neowwwww ✈️ liked by y/n, maxverstappen1, maxfewtrell, carlossainz55, charlesleclerc

user1: WHERE R U TAKING OUR QUEEN

-> landonorris: none ur beeswax

y/n: neowwww ✈️

-> landonorris: neowwwww ✈️ ❤️

-> user3: IS THE HEART FOR HER OR THE PLANEEEEEE

ciscanorris: u best keep that young lady safe, young man

alexandrasaintmleux: omg omg why am I just finding out about y/n?!

-> landonorris: ur late asf to this party, get out

maxverstappen1: Lando Norris does not have a baddie

-> landonorris: or. do i?

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

maxverstappen1

Caption: I told Lando if he said ‘or. do i?’ one more time, I’ll post this. liked by landonorris, y/n, kellypiquet, carlossainz55

landonorris: BITCH

-> maxverstappen1: I prefer cats

y/n: THATS NOT ME 🫨

-> landonorris: DONT MAKE ME OUT TO BE A CHEATER

-> y/n: I’m sorry 😞

user1: *sigh* but at least queen ate

user2: QUEENS 👑 NEVER 👑 CRY 👑 but I just cried, our queen’s taken ☹️

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

y/n

Caption: neowwww 🧡🏎️ liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux

user1: YES. QUEEN.

y/n: 🧡

-> landonorris: 🧡

landonorris: ily 💋

-> y/n: 💋

lilymhe: beauty omg 😙

-> y/n: SAYS YOU 🥹🪞

user2: who bagged the baddie, him or her? 👀

user3: *sigh* for the red bull fans

maxverstappen1: lando norris has 0 fans

-> landonorris: or. do i?

-> maxverstappen: you’re so young, Lando

-> landonorris: what.

-> maxverstappen1: such a bright future…shame it must end

-> landonorris: WHAT 😨

-> landonorris: Y/N SAVE ME

-> y/n: no, u had it coming

-> landonorris: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO 😥😥😥😥

[insidefantasy]

he could never be trouble, she thinks to herself. he'd been far too good of a friend, far too good of a person for her to ever think he would be and she's almost certain her family all thinks the same. "you know...." she mumbles almost absentmindedly as a hand reaches out to the collar of his new jacket, fingers gently folding it until it's laying flat against itself. "it would be our pleasure for you to be there. you can be our guest of honor tonight." a wink of her own is shot in his direction, her pink lips forming into a smile as she steps back to look at him expectantly.

All the guys will no doubt be jealous when they see his new item of clothing, and he can't wait to show it off to them back at the lodging house. Anyone tries to steal it too, he'll give them a soaking. He'll share most things, he will, but this? This is solely his, and he's not about to let just about anybody start wearing it on him, especially not when it was a gift.

"You sure? I's wouldn't want to be no trouble." A proper dinner is incredibly tempting, especially since he'd given up his dinner last night (and his breakfast this morning) to the little ones to make sure they all had enough. They're babies, they need it more than he does, and he can go without it better than them.

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Parents Basement - Chris Sturniolo

Summary: chris came to meet your parents but he got turned on in the middle of our pool match in your parents basement

Warnings: Smut, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t try at home!!) degradation, mouth covering (?), dom!chris, Sub!fem!reader, use of Y/N, slight choking (lemme know if i missed anything!

A/N: I HOPE U GUYS ENJOY THIS AND HAVE A BEAUTIFUL DAY/NIGHT/EVENING!! ILY ALL!!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chris and I have been dating for about 6 months now, i recently just told my mom and dad about him and she INSISTED on having him over to meet them, I was nervous as HELL, i’ve brought over one of my past boyfriends home ONCE, my dad hated him, absolutely DESPISED him, i mean he did cheat on me in the end but im just scared my parents won’t like chris, i mean he’s sweet, he’s kind, he actually cares for me, and he’s incredibly sexy.

“ma” chris softly rubs my shoulder as im sitting in the couch thinking of every way things can go wrong. “you ready?” he kisses my cheek softly handing me my keys since i can drive and he refuses to get his license at 20 years old.

“mhm” i hummed trying to put on a ‘convincing chris im okay but in reality im shitting myself because i’m so scared’ smile hoping he won’t catch on.

“nu uh Y/N stop right there i know that smile, what’s wrong love” his gaze softens as he holds my shoulders trying to get me to open up.

i sigh before answering chris “you’re the second boy i’ve ever brought home and im scared they won’t like you, i mean i don’t care if they don’t it’s just i want them to like you so they can see what i see in you, and why i want to get married to you someday and have little mini chris’ running around and i jus-“ he cuts me off.

“woah woah hang on, i know we’ve only been together 6 months and we’ve never actually had the ‘where do we see each other in the future’ talk but i didn’t know you felt that way?” he pulls me into a tight embrace “well i can only hope they love me” he kisses the top of my head “i love you Y/N, but i hope you know you’re kinda stuck with me now” he smiles down at me

“you’ve been stuck with me since the day u took me on that date with ur brothers cause you insisted on picking me up” i smiled back at him getting on my tip toes to give him a peck on the lips “now let’s go we’re gonna be late” i sat dragging his hand out the door and getting in the car.

the entire car ride wasn’t silent, Chris and i were talking about OUR future together and what we wanted for us, how many kids we wanted, if i would be okay with twins or triplets, you know the little stuff. what felt like forever we finally arrived at my parents home. i get out of the car waiting for chris as he steps out of the car and grabs my hand we began walking to the front door.

as we got to the front door, i knocked and my mom immediately answered the door with the biggest smile on her face “OH Y/N MY LOVE YOUVE GOTTEN SO MUCH MORE BEAUTIFUL THEN THE LAST TIME I SAW YOU” she hugs me quickly before pulling away smiling

“mom, this is chris, my boyfriend” i say looking at chris smiling at him

“so you’re the handsome boy my daughter tells me so much about hm?” my mom says smirking at me.

chris’ smile brightens and holds his hand out for her “yes ma’am, you can call me christopher if you would like too mrs.Y/L/N”

“oh chris is fine by me, and it’s just Nora please, the mrs makes me feel far too old” she smiles shaking his hand “come on in you guys, your father is far too excited to meet him”

we both walk in holding hands again. “RICHARD, YOUR DAUGHTER AND FUTURE SON IN LAW ARE HERE TURN YOURE HOCKY OFF AND COME JOIN US” my mother yells from the bottom of the staircase.

chris pulls me to the side to whisper in my ear “you didn’t tell me your dad likes hockey??” he smiles at me with an amused expression on his face

“how do you think i got a love for hockey chris?” i laugh slightly at his comment.

“oh i’ve got this in the bag ma” he shoots me his signature smirk before looking back up at my mom.

“come in the dining room, i’ve got you’re favorite casserole waiting on you love” my mom leads chris and i into the dining room sitting us down at the table across from where my mom and dad normally sit.

my dad comes downstairs and sits next to my mom and chris automatically stands up and puts his hand out “im christopher Mr.Y/L/N, thank you for allowing me into your home” he smiles as my dad shakes his hand and shoots me a proud smile. “call me Richard please” he smiles softly at chris before sitting down.

“so chris did you play any sports in high school?” my mother questions as she serves chris and i’s plate

“um yes ma’am i did, i played hockey and lacrosse with my brothers throughout high school” he says softly.

“oh Y/N, i love him already, please keep this one around dear” my dad smiling at me “what position did you play in hockey?” my dad looks at chris

“oh me and my brother were left and right defensemen” he smiles at my dad

“so you were the people beating people up hm?” he jokes

“yes sir i was” chris chuckles and looks over at me who’s too worried and just stuffing food in my face the whole conversation

“well before richard talks your ears off about hockey, how did you meet Y/N? she never told me the entire story about it” my mother smiles at chris.

i have my reason for not telling her, chris and i met at Tara’s party a little over a year ago, i got too drunk, chris was half hammered and we hooked up in a public bathroom nearby, so chris and i discussed that we wouldn’t tell his or my family that story just because well for obvious reasons we were underage drinking, and we hooked up, so we decided we’d them a different PG-13 version of the story.

“we had a mutual friend who was having a friends birthday, you know nothing too big, and i thought she was pretty and i asked for her number and we became friends and now here we are” he smiled at me before looking back up at me who had already nervously finished my food.

“oh Chris that’s so sweet” my mother says with a smile at both of us.

the rest of dinner went great, no problems, my dad and chris bonded over their love for hockey, my mom and i were talking about how well my dad loves chris and other little stuff catching up with each other.

“Y/N your father just put in a pool table in the basement if you and chris wanted to try it out, him and i have been working a lot and haven’t gotten the chance to so if you two would like go right ahead baby” my mom smiles at me.

i look over at chris “you want to see my amazing pools skills?” i smirk

“oh you’re on Y/N” chris says as i stand up leading him and i to the basement.

walking down to the basement which had been completely remodeled since i had moved out of the house chris had this glare in his eyes, he had something planned i just couldn’t put my finger on it.

chris and i grabbed a pool stick and we started to play a round of pool. halfway through me whooping his ass in pool he came up behind me and placed his hands over mine trying to “fix my stance”

“remember to keep you’re hands here ma” he says at a low tone in my ear causing shivers to go down my spine and his body getting closer to mine pressing his hard-on against my ass.

“chris” i whisper “we can’t do this here” i roll my eyes and turn around to look at him and his eyes were now filled with lust as he bites his lower lip.

“yeah? why not? you can be a good girl and be quiet for me yeah?” he places his hand on my cheek rubbing my cheek up and down caressing it.

i groan softly “fuck it, but if you get us caught-“ he cuts me off by kissing my lips softly “then i guess you’re gonna have to hush that filthy mouth of yours” he says smirking.

he presses his lips into mine once again this time with more force and hunger than last time using his tongue and fighting for dominance playing with the top of my jeans.

he picked me up and turns me around so i’m bent over the pool table ripping my jeans down to my ankles tapping my legs giving me the hint to step out of them and bending down so he’s at eye level with my soaping wet pussy.

using his finger to spread his juices around on my pussy causing a groan to escape his lips and a soft moan out of mine. “you’re so fucking wet” he stands up pulling his pants down stepping out of them and reaching his hand to my mouth “spit” i obeyed “good fucking girl” he uses his spit to spread on his cock.

he took his cock in his hand and lines himself up with my entrance and pushing just the tip in in letting a whimper out of my lips. he takes his hand to cover my mouth. “as much as i love the nasty shit you say with my cock buried in your pussy you gotta be quiet baby” he groans in my ear before bottoming out biting his lower lip stopping his groan from escaping from his lips throwing his head back and starts slowly thrusting in me.

“fuck ma, you’re so fucking tight” he whispers picking up his pace with a small whimper leaving my lips and my eyes rolling back to my head trying to use his arm that’s now around my throat to hold on to in order to keep my balance.

“chris” i whimper in almost a cry

“am i making you feel good baby? you like this?” he growls in my ear

“y-yes” i softly cry out trying not to moan so loudly as he is repeatedly kissing my cervix with his tip at almost an ungodly speed.

my walls tighten around him signaling i was getting closer “someone’s close hm? you gonna cum all over my cock yeah?” he grunts holding his arm around my neck for his balance still trusting behind me.

“mh-mhm yes” i nod vigorously biting my lip canceling out my moans.

“do it, cum all over my cock baby” he growls in my ear kissing my neck sending me over the edge as my legs began to shake and i release all over his cock.

his thrust get sloppy as he buried his head in my neck biting my shoulder as he releases in me softly pulling out kissing my cheek.

“you did so good baby” he says softly helping me get my pants back on “we can shower when we get back to my house” he smiles at me.

“then let’s go say our goodbyes because i have to drive, and my legs hurt baby” i say smiling back at him placing a kiss on his lips heading back upstairs to my parents which is just my mom considering my dads back upstairs watching hockey probably asleep.

“i’m sorry guys but we gotta get going, thank you for inviting us over” i say kissing my moms cheek pulling her into a hug.

“thank you for inviting me over Nora” he smiled over at my mom holding his hand out.

“no no i give hugs chris” my mother says pulling chris into a hug “i expect to see you around more” she smiles pulling away “and ill make sure to tell richard you guys left, he really likes him Y/N” she smiles at me.

“i’m glad, bye mom!” i say exiting my parents house and stepping into my car with chris in the passenger seat.

“well that went better then i expected” i say starting the car and pulling out of the driveway.

“you had nothing to be worried about ma, i have a way with parents” he winks at me smiling at me causing me to giggle.

“thank you chris” i say smiling at him before turning my focus back on the road

“anytime princess, thank you for letting me meet your parents, now you gotta meet mine, cause my mom already loves you and she’s never even met you” he chuckles.

“how much do you talk about me to your mom chris” i laugh back at him.

“focus on the road Y/N” chris says in his attempt to change the subject.

“i’d love to meet your mom chris” i say looking softly at chris as we make our way back to his shared home with his brothers.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N pt 2 IDK HOW TO FEEL AB THIS I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY THIS!! 🩷

XOXO

gabs 💋

[worldlxvlys]

heyy an, i miss u sm so i got a request!! what if u start a sturniolo little sister thing (c.ai doesn't feed me enough) basically the plot i wrote on c.ai is reader (she has a name on c.ai but just go with y/n ig) is about to leave to go to a party in a sort of "revealing" outfit (it's not actually that revealing the triplets are just overprotective as shit in my plot) and they notice a few she's been wearing more revealing outfits these days and they lowkey wonder why. (that's not actually what happens in my plot but i'm gatekeeping it bc it's my comfort c.ai bot) and then you can go from here i guess!! in my plot, reader is a very whiny, easily annoying and whimpery girl, ykwim? like she's so easily hurt / upset. that's one of her main traits so hope it helps the development of the fic! ilysm🫶🏻

stand out

sturniolo triplets x sister! reader

warnings: cursing, mention of shitty ex

a/n: kind of got carried away, hopefully you like it tho

ily <33

“you’re not leaving in that” chris stated for about the fifth time that night. i was starting to get annoyed.

i’ll admit that my shorts were on the shorter side, but everything was covered.

“why chris? why do you care about what i put on my body?”

his jaw clenched as he let out a heavy sigh.

catching onto the annoyance that was written all over chris’s face, matt stepped in.

“look, what you decide to wear is completely up to you, we aren’t going to tell you what you can and can’t wear.” he placed his hand on my shoulder gently.

“we’ve just noticed that your outfits have been a little more on the revealing side lately-“ i cut him off, already knowing where this conversation was heading.

“ we? so you guys talk about how i dress when i’m not here?” his mouth opened and closed like a fish as my question caught him off guard.

nick then pitched in, “look, we’re genuinely just worried about you. we want to make sure you’re safe”

“i’m fine guys, seriously. i mean, everybody wants to stand out, right?” i watched as all of their faces dropped as they began to catch on.

matt tilted his head at me, “is this about your ex?” i let out a sigh at this.

he knows me too well.

when i broke up with my ex, matt was the person i leaned on. chris and nick were there for me, of course, but matt was the person who took me for late night drives to cheer me up. so, naturally, i spoke to him the most about my feelings.

when i was dumped, my ex told me i was just like every other girl and i tried too hard to fit in. while i tried to act like his words held no affect on me, they hurt me deeply.

they rang through my head constantly, no mater what i did. but, i didn’t want to completely change just because a man decided to use my biggest insecurity against me. so, instead, i decided to switch up my style.

what i failed to realize, however, was that my brothers were able to read me like a book.

and while the change in clothing choice was cute, it wasn’t me. it was uncomfortable.

“i hate that he still has so much power over me. it’s like no matter what i do, i can always hear his comments about me in my head.” i finally spoke.

“what did he say to you?” chris asked, growing concerned.

i looked down at this, feeling tears start to prick at the corner of my eyes.

“pretty much that there was nothing special about me and that i’m boring” i shrugged my shoulders, swallowing the lump that began to form in my throat.

“well he’s just flat-out wrong” chris stated, as though it was the most obvious thing he’s ever said.

i furrowed my eyebrows as i stared at him in confusion.

“um, hello? you’re literally the most insane person i’ve ever met”

i looked at him crazily, “is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“you’re the only person i’ve ever met that goes running for fun. that is borderline psychotic” i narrowed my eyes at him. “trust me, you’re not like any other girl” he finished.

i playfully rolled my eyes at him.

“plus” matt began, “isn’t this the same dude that thought that googled why he had a headache and was fully convinced he was dying?” i couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

nick then joined in, “besides, that motherfucker talks like he’s reading from a script written by the ginny and georgia writers, i promise you’re not missing out”

this sent the three of us into laughing messes. chris reached out for something to hold onto as he started to fall and, seeing as i was standing right next to him, that happened to be me.

chris clutched onto my shoulders as he began to bring me down with him, and the four of us doubled over in laughter.

——————

masterlist

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[hellfiremunsonn]

Behave. Joseph Quinn x Reader

Behave.

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: bratting at your dom boyfriend at a public event... How do you think that’s going to end?

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, sub/brat!reader, dom!Joseph, dom and sub relationship, established relationship, swearing, dirty talk I guess? suggestive. (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

AN: thank u to @eddieschains for reading this through for me to make sure it wasn’t booty (ily and am kissing u on the mouth)

Wordcount: 1k

It's a fancy dinner party neither of you wanted to be at. Last minute, outside on a lovely patio and all though the view was beautiful you couldn't help but groan at the heat and humidity that clung to your skin, but Joseph promised he'd be there and he absolutely was not going to go without you. With his abrupt rise in the industry you'd gotten used to the events, and appearances, but you were still human, and sometimes you had to be a brat to get the attention you wanted from your boyfriend.

Joe loved it just as much as it drove him up the wall, but he'd never want anyone else. He loved seeing you go from that ridged and wound up bratty little shit to his soft, and pliable good girl who'd sit at his feet if he asked.

"Do we have to stay long?" You ask, not even ten minutes after arriving.

"Not too late, just a couple hours" he said while leading you to one of the small tables where Wes had waved him over.

You groan and roll your eyes, leaning into Joesphs hand on the small of your back, letting him basically push you forward to keep walking.

"Don't start with the attitude my love, I thought you were gunna be good for me tonight huh?" he said quietly as you approached the table. His side glance to you made your stomach flip, you did tell him you were going to be good... But you never said for how long.

You were good for most of the party, but after a few fruity cocktails you started to get a bit more bold, and a lot more whiney. After a fourth trip to the bar you returned to Josephs side, his arm instantly coming to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him.

"Where'd you run off to pretty girl?" he said into the skin of your temple, placing a small kiss there. You hummed, leaning up to give him a lazy smile, the alcohol making you feel warm and fuzzy, light with electricity.

Instead of verbally answering him you just hold up your cup to him with a smile, before setting it down onto the table. Except you didn't set it down, you placed it just on the edge, not enough to keep it balanced and it fell onto the floor with a splash and a crash. You flinch at the noise, along with the people around you, who look you up and down and then at who you're with before returning to their own conversations.

You pout looking down at your feet and huff your strappy heels no longer a good idea as the beverage now coats your feet. "My feet are going to get all sticky" You look up to see Joseph staring at you, the vein in his neck is bulging and you know you've started to get on his nerves. You felt a slight sense of accomplishment because thats exactly what you wanted but not how you wanted to get it.

"M'sorry Joe, I'll go fine someone to clean it up" you said turning to go find the first serve you could find, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Don't" he said with a firm grip on your arm while he pulled you back to him.

You furrowed your brows. "there's glass everywhere Joey someone could get hurt-"

"Should have thought about that before you decided to drink too much, breaking a rule like that when you told me you'd be good?" he tuts staring down at you.

It wasn't a hard rule, but a rule nonetheless. To not over drink, in fear of doing anything to jeopardizes your career, let alone Josephs. You didn't want some tabloid spewing lies about you or Joseph all because you drank a little too much.

"Joseph I'm fine" You roll your eyes. "I misjudged the distance of the table and I dropped the cup, I'm sorry, now let go of me so I can find a server"

"Behave" he warned again, letting you go.

"Yeah, yeah I heard you the first time" You rolled your eyes again before searching to find someone to take care of the glass. You heard Wes come back to the table and snicker at your response while you walked away.

Instead of returning to Joseph right away like you knew you should have, you went out front of the fancy venue, opting for a calm moment away from the party to have a smoke. You pulled out the packet of cigarettes from your small red purse, holding it between your lips before lighting it with the engraved metal lighter Joseph had gifted to you. You smiled fondly looking down at it in the palm of your hand, swiping your thumb across the embedded words.

"You supposed to wander off on your own?" Josephs voice was low in your ear making you jump and sputter on the smoke in your lungs. You go to turn but he holds you too him tightly by your hips, keeping your back to to his chest.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" you exclaimed, attempting to bring your cigarette back to your mouth when Josephs quick hand snatched it out of yours and into his own. Placing it between his lips and inhaling deeply, cheeks hollowing and his stomach concaving, instantly making you miss its warmth against your back.

"If you didn't keep on breaking my rules maybe I wouldn't have to" He exhaled, dropping the cigarette onto the ground next to you and crushing it under his shoe.

"I've not broken a single rule tonight and you know it" you said squirming slightly.

"No? Not a single rule?" He laughed, but it was humourless. "How many times have you rolled your eyes at me tonight hm? How many times did you talk back? How many drinks did we agree on you having?"

"Shit" you muttered. You really didn't think you had broken that many rules tonight, maybe a little bit excessive on the eye rolls, but you were needy and he couldn't give you the attention you wanted.

"I should bring you back in there, bend you over the nearest table and spank you in front of all those people" His hands slide up and down the sides of your body, causing goosebumps to cascade across every inch of your skin. "Show everyone how much of a bad girl you are, and how good you get for me" he snickered.

"Bet you'd like that though wouldn't you? Having everyone see who you belong to, who you let control you like this?"

You shuddered when his hand reached your jaw, tilting it sideways to catch a glimpse at your glassy eyes, just how he knew they'd be.

"You want your punishment here or do you want to wait till we're home?" he asked softly. As mean as he could be when you wanted him to it never stopped him from checking in.

"H-home please, wanna be good for you, only you, no one else, they don't get to see me like that, only you. Please?" You were begging, begging for a punishment in your shared home. Begging to prove to him that you were still his good girl, because that's all you wanted to be.

"Please can we go home now daddy?"

When your voice wobbled all soft and sickly sweet, he grabbed your hand and lead you to the car that was already waiting for you out front.

[l0v3tast3]

I LOVED THE PERVY NEIGHBOR!TOJI HEADCANON OMG 🥵 Thoughts on him bringing his good friend Nanami Kento over to “meet” reader? 🤔

oh my god. oh my god this literally made my thoughts stop working for several seconds your brain is a blessing (; ω ; ) also thank u sm ily anon uwu

✎ tags: mdni!, smut, pervy neighbor!toji x female reader x pervy friend!nanami, dubious consent, age gap (reader is college age, toji is late-30's, nanami is early 30's), pet names, spitroasting, toji's a little meaner in this one, size kink

✎ word count: 2.2k (not proofread oopsies)

masterlist | requests

♡ toji fushiguro is a territorial man at heart. he doesn't have much to his name, but what he does have he holds onto with a tight grip. you included. but when his "good friend" nanami kento asked what had caused toji to be in such a good mood lately, he couldn't help but start bragging about his new girl.

♡ nanami liked to act like he was better than him and all the rest, but toji saw how he shifted in his seat, he saw his pants tighten. it inspired a wonderful idea in the black-haired man.

♡ he brings it up while he's fucking you from behind, slow and deep with a hand around your throat to hold you tight against his chest. "got a friend i want ya to meet, baby. wanna show him how much of a good girl you are for me, what d'ya think? no, wouldn't let him fuck you, princess. maybe your mouth. this pussy's mine though, don't fuckin' forget." of course you could never forget, not with how he was pulling out until just his tip was left inside you and then slamming back in.

♡ needless to say, you end up agreeing to it. how could you not when he whispers such nice things? "just wanna show ya off, you're so good for me. my friend just wants to see how pretty you are, princess, just wants to appreciate you like i do." you're right on the edge, so close to cumming, but he slows down his thrusts instead, the arm wrapped around your waist tightening to stop you from squirming.

♡ "won't let him touch ya if you don't want him to. you'll let me fuck you in front of him though, right baby?" you give him a meek "m'kay, toji," finally, and his smile stretches so wide as he starts fucking you faster again. you trust him, you know in your sweet little heart that he wouldn't ever let anyone hurt you, much less touch you. toji fucks you for hours after that, rewarding you with his cum over and over as he tells you how much of a good girl you are for him.

♡ you almost forget about the whole thing after that, thinking it was just another one of toji's lewd fantasies that he confesses when he fucks you (there are quite a lot, he just keeps coming up with more). until the next time your mom goes on a work trip.

♡ there's a knock at the door later into the evening while he's pressing your back into an arch on the living room couch, fucking into you harshly and leaving red handprints on your ass (he had seemed hellbent on marking you the last few days; more hickies and bruises shaped like his fingers and bitemarks than any amount of concealer could ever cover). you don't even hear it but he's pulling away from you, petting your hair and saying he'll be right back while he pulls on his sweatpants. even though you're confused, your fuzzy brain just takes the opportunity to breathe evenly for a few moments.

♡ "-got started without ya, couldn't help it. see? she's just so cute," toji says as he walks back in. behind him is a handsome blonde man in a suit, younger than toji but still plenty older than you. he looks at you with what looks like indifference, staring down at you through his glasses.

♡ toji notices your apprehension and comes back to the couch, sitting beside you and picking you up to set you on his lap, your back pressed to his chest so you faced the man still watching you. calloused hands work over your body to relax you, one finding it's way to start circling your clit. "you remember when i told you about my friend, right princess? this is nanami, my friend. told him all about how sweet my baby is and he wanted to see for himself. gonna help me show him, okay? yeah? aww, that's my girl."

♡ he tells nanami to take a seat and he does, sitting down in one of the chairs across the room. toji's already pushing his sweatpants down again, lining you up to sink you back onto his still-wet cock. you're whimpering and gasping quietly, trying to cover your breasts in embarrassment; you could hardly handle toji's teasing, and now there was a very quiet man watching toji use you like a toy.

♡ "don't do that now, c'mon, you're missin' the whole point! is my dick dumbing ya down again? show him how good ya look riding me, you can do it pretty girl." he holds your hands together against your stomach, helping your hips move up and down with his other hand. you can't help but let out your moans as he fills you up again and again. you can't see it, but he stares at nanami over your shoulder with hooded eyes and a grin that speaks loud enough for his arrogance. he can see the blonde man shifting in his seat again, he can see the bulge growing in his pants and how his hands grip the armrests of his chair. nanami wants you, wants to have you like toji is having you. but he can't, and toji thinks it really doesn't get better than this.

♡ "isn't she gorgeous, nanami?" the man responds with a nod and toji scoffs. "then say it, jackass," he spits, suddenly glaring at the younger man until he spoke. "she is beautiful," nanami says. his voice is deep and he talks slowly, carefully. toji laughs and sighs out a moan when he feels your cunt tighten around him even more. "she fuckin' liked that!"

♡ you start melting back into him, grabbing hold of his arm instead of weakly trying to break out of his grasp. he smiled into your shoulder, continuing to make nanami compliment you. "yeah, she's so sweet once i get my dick inside her. isn't she a sweetheart, nanami? heh, it's a damn miracle i can even fit my cock in this tiny pussy. and don't get me fuckin' started on her mouth. she's got the prettiest little mouth, doesn't she? see, even my fingers look huge in her mouth- no, keep fuckin' riding me, c'mon, you can do it yourself. you like her mouth, nanami? ya wanna fuck it? what'd'ya think, baby, you gonna suck his dick?"

♡ you were a complete mess on toji's lap. any brainpower you had left was going into shakily riding him and sucking on the two fingers he'd shoved in your mouth. you could barely even process toji talking about you like you weren't even there, but the question he urged in your ear didn't go unnoticed. part of you says you shouldn't, that he's not toji, but the other part needed to keep hearing toji call you a good girl. and nanami had been "nice", so far.

♡ so you squeak a little "mhm" around toji's fingers and he laughs, squeezing his arm a little tighter around you and giving you a quick bite on your neck in one of the few spots left unmarked, hushing you when you whine. before you can register it, he moves you forward onto your hands and knees on the couch, pulling your head back by your hair.

♡ "ya wanna fuck her mouth, right, nanami? she wants you to. c'mon princess, help me convince him. show him how nice ya beg." you take a second too long to start talking and he brings his hand down on your ass again, fucking into you harshly. "i said beg him."

♡ "ah-a! ple- please nanami, can i suck your dick? please- nngh!" toji spanks you again and chastises you, saying he's heard you do better than that, but nanami is already walking over and unbuckling his belt. he kneels with one leg on the couch so that his bulge is right in front of you, and you reach out to grab onto his pants for support as toji continues to fuck you.

♡ nanami's hand replaces toji's in your hair and the man behind you uses the new freedom to dig his hands into your hips. the man in front of you tells you to open your mouth, and when you do he slides his thumb in and presses down on your tongue, letting out a deep breath when you suck on it. he trades his thumb with his dick, his hand going down to wrap around you throat. nanami wasn't as big as toji, nearly as long but not as thick. you could still tell it would be difficult as he pressed his tip against your swollen lips.

♡ toji stops pistoning in and out of you for a few moments while you start suckling on the head of nanami's cock, the man's slender hands urging you down further slowly. "don't ya remember all that training we've been doin' on your throat, baby? yeah ya do, good girl."

♡ he picks back up suddenly, fucking you even harder now, enough to push your body forward and nanami's cock further into your mouth. he's curling over you, his grip on your throat and hair tightening a little when he feels you moaning around him. you're trying your best not to gag while toji continues to push you more and more, eyes rolling back because you're just so full and they're everywhere and it's all you can feel and see.

♡ "shit-" nanami swears under his breath, as if he's still trying not to lose his formality. toji laughs, both at him and you. he's relishing in how tight you get whenever you choke on nanami's cock, and finally getting to see the blonde man lose his composure. the power trip was like no other; toji didn't even mind sharing you if it meant he got to witness this.

♡ "tell her how good she's doin' nanami, don't be fuckin' rude now." nanami shoots a glare at toji before focusing back on you, the hand in your hair starting to run it's fingers through the strands comfortingly.

♡ "you're doing so- fuck, so good, little girl. hah, your mouth is so soft around me, you're taking us both so well- fuck!" he throws his head back when you moan against him again and start sucking harder, drooling as nanami's voice pushed you so close to cumming.

♡ toji was hammering into you now, pressing his hand down on your back again, forcing it into as much of an arch he could so he could batter your walls at a better angle. "aw, are you gonna cum, princess? be good and make nanami cum first, he's our guest, right?" with that, toji started slowing down, bringing his hand down again on your cherry-red ass when you whine and mewl in protest.

♡ you take nanami's dick until tears prick your ears, so desperate to make him cum so that toji would finally fuck you again. it was all you could think about, just pleasing toji and his friend. besides, nanami was being so sweet, petting your hair and helping you bob your head up and down by your neck. he never pressed hard enough to hurt you (he was afraid toji would hurt him), and his words were all so nice.

♡ "i'm gonna- fuck!" was all the warning you got before his cum was pouring down your throat, your grip on his pants tightening as you swallowed it all, just like toji had taught you. he stayed hunched over you, struggling not to tighten the grip of his hands too much as he came, his hips twitching the longer he remained with you like that. once he started relaxing, toji practically tore you off of him and pushed the younger man away.

♡ while nanami was still reeling, toji muttered a quick "now get the fuck out," before he turned his attention entirely back to you, sitting upright with your back against his chest once again. he kept you still as you tried to catch your breath, his cock bottomed out in you while he smoothed his rough hands over your body and praised you.

♡ "how did i find such a good girl like you, hm? ya did so good, looked so pretty chokin' on his cock. not nearly as much as when ya do on mine, though. you still like my dick better, right baby? yeah, heh, of course ya do, cause you were made for me, pretty girl. now, you want me to make ya cum still, don't ya?"

♡ he spares a quick glance at the door as it shuts behind nanami, smiling wide as he basks in the newfound power he holds over the man. he let him have a taste of you, but only that, and now he'll get to see that jealousy in the younger man's eyes every time he mentions you.

♡ meanwhile, you're grinding down on toji, all thoughts zeroing back in on the giant trapping you against him. you didn't care that he had just used you basically to make a point to his "friend", you didn't even really realize it yet, not with all the honeyed words that toji filled your head with. all you care about is how good the pressure of his dick pressed against your cervix felt. all you care about is being good so he'll make you cum again.

♡ "alright, sweet girl, don't worry, i'll make ya cum lots tonight," he whispers when you start whining his name. "make ya forget ya ever even met him. make sure ya remember that you're mine still."

[withonly-sweetheart]

Reap What You Sow

part one

You've been reaped, and your partner is not the man you want to be spending a bloodbath with. But what if he's nothing like what you expected?

a/n: for the anon that's waited SO patiently for it... im still working on figuring out ur identity but im a bit slow... so.... i hope u like it i had to reread the book for this and WEUIORWPDOSWEIOR i have trauma from thg trust me

tw: major character deaths (if you can guess who ily <3) mentions of blood, gore, illnesses, blah blah all that stuff yk

wc: 7.8k

part two here!!

legacy, what is a legacy?

planting seeds in a garden,

one you’ll never get to see.

Autumn always brought the whispering winds, a tapestry of gold and crimson spinning through the forest, leaves dancing down from their lofty trees, becoming carpets of color rustling with ease.

Everyone sleeps in late today, wanting to spend as much time huddled with their family before the threat looming over you finally comes back to bite you.

The air grows crisp, a bite of cool delight, as you trudge through the fresh foliage, feet shuffling through the leaves fluttering onto your hunting boots. The last thing you need is to scare away potential game with your loud footsteps.

In the woods is the one place where your facade can fall, where you can shout all your frustrations at the lake below you, calming down as you stare down at it, blurred by your dangling legs. The ledge has always been precariously unstable, but anything to kill time before the Reaping.

Leaning back on your palms, you glance up at the sun searing your face, burning through your dark tunics that help camouflage you during hunts. You can’t consider yourself a good hunter, but at least what you bring in keeps your family from starving.

You strip the nearby bushes of their leaves, their raspberries, the leaves that you had once cultivated with your mother when she was still around. Although it wasn’t allowed, you both made a habit of sneaking into the forest after all the Peacekeepers had finished their patrols to check on your garden. 

You never told her, but you could never resist plucking a few unripe berries from their steadily growing stems, now grown wild and untamed. The taste of the young, still growing fruit from your childhood still lingers in your mind, and over six years later, make it near impossible for you to enjoy the sweetness of the ripe raspberries now.

A melodious chirp breaks through your thoughts, and you twist over your shoulder to see a familiar mockingjay approaching. Its vibrant blue and gray feathers shimmer in the dappled sunlight as it hops closer, a curious glint in its round, beady eyes. With a gentle nudge, you offer it a ripe berry, watching as it eagerly pecks at the fruit, savoring the succulent juices with delicate precision.

“You’re chipper today, aren’t you?” you ask it, keeping your voice light. Just as you expect, the muttation tweets back in the same tone, as if repeating your words back to you.

Only, coming from such a free, unshackled spirit, it means nothing.

<><><><>

The nicer part of your district is in the area shadowed by the forest, where none of the residents dare to step foot into what they deem unsafe. If only they knew the danger of hunger.

You pass the bakery, catching the eye of the baker’s son, uninterested, casting shadows on his face as he glances down at his mother’s feet. Her shouts are audible through the thin glass showcasing the elegantly decorated cakes.

You don’t know the boy, but you feel pity for him. Not once in the years following your mother’s death has your father raised his voice at you. He has resigned to heavy sighs of disappointment, which sting more than angry words, you’ll admit.

You stand before the same house in the Victor’s Village, the nicest houses of the entire district, crammed into one courtyard. Most of the houses are empty due to there only being two Victors in the history of the Games; Haymitch Abernathy, a drunken man you don’t socialize with, and Leon’s older brother, whose name you aren’t bothered or inclined to learn.

You raise your hand to knock but pause, praying he doesn't answer, that he’s not home, and that his mother, a much kinder, forgiving woman, comes to the door. After an agonizing moment, the door creaks open and, just your luck, his imposing form fills the frame above.

The first thing you notice is the red, blaring welt resting calmly on his face. You faintly wonder what happened before realizing that you don’t care. Neither does he, apparently.

“Back to grovel, little bird?” he sneers. 

“Actually, maybe I’ll just head to Haymitch,” you reply, making a show of the flimsy basket holding multiple, freshly snared rabbits. “He might have a use for fresh meat.”

You don’t miss the way Leon immediately clears his throat, leaning against the doorframe. “I suppose we could make a deal.”

Eventually you’re satisfied with the amount of money in your hands, and Leon looks equally ravished as he nods to you politely before closing the door in your face. You catch his eyes darting to your lips just as it creaks shut fully.

Whatever’s wrong with him shouldn’t bother you, right?

So why does it?

<><><><>

Chris raises an eyebrow at the offering. You nudge it towards him, and a smile slowly spreads across his face, overtaking his expression.

“It’s taken quite a while, huh?” he teases.

“You know how much it means to me,” you cheese. “And I want you to have it, just in case…”

“You’re not getting reaped,” he says, as if he’s already predicted who will be safe, like he knows. “Your name isn’t even in there that many times.”

You nod, face warm. "Just in case."

His grin fades. "Don't say that. Your name is drawn just a few times."

"Still a chance," you mutter grimly. "24 slips is 24 too many."

Chris takes your hands in his. "Listen to me. I survived, didn't I? You're stronger than any tribute here. You'll come back and we'll hunt together, I promise it."

His steady gaze gives you strength. You force a smile. "Okay. And may the odds..."

Your hunting partner, close friend, embraces you. "The odds don't matter. You do. Stay strong - I'll see you after."

Of course, the odds seem to be planting themselves directly against you. But you don’t mention that as you walk to the square, shoulder to shoulder, trusting Chris enough to watch your siblings as your father makes low conversation with the other miners.

<><><><>

The odds definitely hate you.

When they call your name, no one moves. You can feel the girl next to you stiffen, as if sensing your breath cut short, hand brushing against yours as you weave your way through the perfectly aligned rows of sixteen year old kids, kids that you went to school with.

If it were any other reaping, you would’ve looked down at them with scorn, glaring at them with a scowl, because no one wants to die, but no one volunteered for you. But the Quarter Quell brings with it new surprises, one being that the tributes reaped may not be replaced.

You suppose you should be glad it isn’t one of your siblings, because where you stand a chance, they would die immediately. Admitting this to yourself is how you temper your own fate. On the other hand, the other twist the Quell brings is that if you die in the Games, guess who also suffers?

Your family is publicly executed. You wish a slow and painful death to whoever thought of that, to President Snow, for picking it. Watching the competitions every year was something you could never stomach, choosing instead to cower in the other room, hands planted against your ears to block out the sickening screams of the dying tributes on screen.

"May the odds be ever in your favor," Effie says with a grin far too jovial for the situation, and you know that its her job to encourage you, but they ring hollow given what lies ahead. 

As you walk toward the stage, your breathing comes quick and shallow. A boy with dark hair catches your gaze, his expression as grim as yours. "It will be over soon," he murmurs, though you're not sure if he means the reaping or your life.

Reaching the steps, you turn to face the crowd, fists clenched. The escort swirls the strips of paper in the empty fish bowl, as if this is simply a game to her. She pinches one between her fingers and drags it out slowly before unfurling it and reading aloud the name.

“Leon Kennedy,” she declares. 

Of course getting reaped isn’t the last of your misfortunes. Although you don’t directly know him, you know what he’s capable of. He climbs on stage beside you, jaw working as if chewing over angry words. 

"No use raging at them now," you mutter under your breath.

Leon barks a short, bitter laugh. "I guess you're right. Small comfort, that." 

You don’t speak after that, settling into tense silence as your escort waits for the applause that never comes. The depressing gazes of all your loved ones, the people you know, and the people who don’t know you exist, proves to be too much, so you shift your eyes to the ground, pointed at your toes.

There is one more pair of eyes that land on you, eyes that you don’t wish to meet. But when Effie requests for the “lucky kids” to shake hands, you force yourself to drag your gaze from the ground, up his slender legs, the tendon that stretches when he looks down at you, challenging you silently, to his fingertips outstretched, waiting for your hand.

And when you finally shake on it, you remember just who he is to you.

Leon.

<><><><><>

You freeze in your movements, cradling the assortment of berries closer to your chest, the handkerchief tickling your chin. Pale, icy eyes trail down your body, sizing you up, searing everywhere they grace.

You know him, but he doesn’t know you. You’ve seen him, one of the nicer looking kids at your school, always well groomed, arriving to class on time and getting only the best grades.

But no one is perfect, and his flaws are in his arrogance, which doesn’t get any better when all the girls fawn over him, tripping over one another to catch even a flit of his eyes. What would they think now, of him watching you, a poor, peasant girl. You have to hold back a smile at the faint thought passing your mind.  

“Well,” he remarks, unable to hold back the smirk that tugs at his lips, “looks like I’ve finally caught the little bird pecking at my garden, hm?” You flush madly. So he has noticed the previous times you’ve snuck through the fence, collecting his family’s plants. 

"I…I meant no harm," you say meekly, lowering your gaze. "I was only gathering bits of food to help feed my poor family." Playing the pity card is a new low, even for you, but the consequences of mistakes ring through the square often, burned in your eyes, the whine of a leather whip, the sound it makes when it meets tender flesh.

"Hmm, is that so?" he considers, stroking his chin, grinning. "Maybe I’ll let it go, just this once. But you’ll have to pay up."

“I have no money,” you say quietly. “I… cannot pay you, at least not right now. Please, just two weeks-”

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand, eyes fixing on your trembling lips. "A kiss, sweet bird, and I'll let your theft go. What do you say?”

Perhaps you’ll suffice to get whipped. Anything over that.

“No,” you say firmly, stepping away, further into the sanctuary of the forest. “I won’t do that.”

“So you won’t mind if I tell the Peacekeepers?” he muses.

“I only took a little!” you plead.

“And I’m not asking for much in return, am I?”

You hesitate, torn between duty and danger. But survival demands sacrifice. Holding back a troubled, irritated groan, you allow him to step closer, lift your chin and capture your mouth with his own, firm but fleeting.

"Now fly home to your nest, little birdie,” he taunts as he breaks away from him, wiping your lips frantically, trying to get rid of the sweet taste of fresh bread and butter that mingled from his tongue to yours.

Does he kiss everyone like this? So hard, fast, as if he’s trying to consume you whole? You feel pity for all the girls he’s left behind with broken hearts, like lost puppies following him everywhere. 

The last thing you expect is to be longing for it again, reaching for the feeling of being held like that, of being wanted, desirable. And you find that nowhere else but with him.

Of course, that feeling only dims slightly when the Peacekeepers knock at your door the next day, pretending to lecture you about theft, but there are no consequences, surprisingly. You suspect it must be because half of your best customers are the officials, the ones meant to enforce the rules, since everyone in the area is desperate for meat.

You did what he asked.

He ratted you out, either way.

So why can’t you stop thinking about him?

<><><><>

Your father’s weary face is what greets you first in the velvet setting of the Justice Building, before flurrying footsteps escape the guard’s clutches and long, thin arms wrap around you, tears immediately staining the flimsy fabric of your tunic.

“I’m so sorry, dear,” he whispers to you, and as the twins reluctantly pull away so he can gather you in his arms, embracing you to what, horrifyingly, feels like the last time you’ll inhale his musty, familiar coal scent that lingers everywhere in the house.

“Chris will bring you food,” you instruct as soon as he meets your eyes, stepping away. “Don’t turn it down. When I get back-”

“When?” he muses, a sad light twinkling in his aged eyes. “You’re this confident?”

“You heard them!” you hiss, exasperated. “I have to come back. They’ll kill you if I don’t.”

“Don’t worry about us,” he insists. “I’ve already planned everything out.”

“What does that even mean?” If it were anyone else, you would’ve missed the subtle flit of his eyes to the Peacekeepers standing to attention behind you, listening in to your conversation. You realize there is something he cannot say with them here.

So you soften your face, cradle the twins into one last hug and use that as an excuse to pull him back in. Your father’s voice is so soft you can barely make out what he’s saying over the twins’ sobbing.

“District 13, we’re going to find them.”

“They’re dead,” you murmur. 

“If you come back, you know where to find us,” he says, adorning a sweet, solemn smile on his face as he withdraws, adjusting the collar of your tunic where it slants to one side. “Do you understand?”

The way he’s speaking makes it clear that he could be talking about anything now, so you attempt to match his expression, keeping your tone light. “Yes, Father. I’ll try my best.”

He pats your shoulder, nodding. “I know you will, my girl.”

When they call that time’s up, you ignore the twins’ protests and kiss them both on their cheeks, waving goodbye to their tear streaked, chubby faces, trying to imprint the image in your head forever.

The next person that comes in is someone you don’t expect. It’s Claire, the younger Redfield sibling; your hunting partner rarely discusses his little sister, so you don’t know her aside from seeing her during classes.

She offers no meager response, no subtle greeting, only grips your hands tightly, entwining your fingers with her own, pulling you closer. “Well? What’s your strategy?”

“I’m sorry?”

“For the Games?”

“I mean, I have to train hard-”

“No.”

“No?” You frown at her command, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“There’s only one thing that you have to do,” she explains. “It’s how Leon’s brother won the Games way back when.”

“And that is…?” you prompt.

Her eyes are steely, unforgiving. “Keep Leon alive. The rest will come later.”

You’re frozen into a shock for about a second before you harshly release her hands, rough with years of hard labor, stepping away from her. “Excuse me?”

“You have to fool him into believing that you want an alliance!” she grumbles. “And I don’t think I can take any more of Chris’s groveling if you die.”

“Chris doesn’t grovel.” A corner of her lip quirks up.

“You don’t live with him,” she retorts, albeit gently. “Listen, don’t get yourself killed out there. You’re a smart girl. I know you can win.”

And she’s grinning and gone, a shitload of emotions dumped onto you, and a new outlook on the Games, and your potential partner. You’ve seen that method multiple times from the Victors, however convincing, and you nod to yourself.

You've got a winning shot if you have him, you know that.

You let a lazy smile overtake your face.

Well, at least until you kill him.

<><><><>

Of all the people in the Capitol, your stylist, by far, has been your favorite.

Your hands tremble as Cinna leads you to your prep team. Effie assured you this is his first year as a stylist, and he has "big ideas" to make an impression.

"Everything will be alright," he says gently, meeting your fearful eyes in the mirror. His deft hands make quick work of transforming you into someone else, someone you don’t recognize.

As your raw nerves are plucked and primed, Cinna talks soothingly of his plans. "The fire theme is overdone. I want to show you not as a beast to fear, but as a symbol of hope that cannot be extinguished."

Looking in the mirror, you gasp - you’re swathed elegantly in a flowing carbon-fiber gown that resembles burning coal embers. Wings of delicate gold wire sprout from your shoulder blades like a phoenix rising.

"Cinna, it's...incredible," you breathe.

He smiles warmly. "Panem will remember you, but not as a killer. You’re going to be our dream."

Your old fear returns as you reach the chariot. But seeing Cinna’s admiring grin from across the stable, you stand tall, finding courage in his vision.

And then Leon approaches, flanked by his stylist and prep team. They beam at you, drinking in your matching outfits, which you don’t remember agreeing to. But even you can’t disagree that you stand out from the starkly contrasting duos of tributes. 

Your heart pounds as the chariot ride nears. Catching you tense up, your panicked expression, Cinna tilts your head up with his finger. 

"Chin up, girl on fire.” He exhales. “Own who you are."

You climb up the ivory steps, paintings of flames licking the side of the chariot, spreading onto the horses’ flanks, matching the design on your perfectly trimmed, crescent shaped nails.

“Girl on fire, hm?” Leon says jokingly, although his voice is quiet. Neither of you have interacted since the Reaping, and it feels strange to be talking to a man that once held your life in his beautiful, beautiful hands.

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” you mutter as the chariot lurches forward, unused to the sudden jolt of movement that doesn’t require you to use your legs.

“Seriously?” You lift your head just enough to catch Leon giving you a concerned look, just as the new day’s rays hit his face, bathing his skin in an ethereal glow. You don’t expect him to tug you upright as the crowd gets a glimpse of you, entwining your fingers tight with his.

The way he clutches your hand makes you smile, drunk on a feeling you shouldn’t have, so you use your free hand to wave. The roar shakes you to your core - but it's not hatred, it's adoration. You’ve stunned them all. You beam at the cheering colors.

You test out blowing a kiss to one part of the crowd, where you see a little girl jump and scream for your attention, and everyone reaches out as if they can grab it, holding it close to their chests, as if there’s something caught in the space between their fingers and palm.

It gives you a sense of unmatched power, knowing that everyone is looking at you, that the Careers are definitely glaring at you, because they are so used to getting all the attention that now that you are captivating everything with the golden, flaming arches unfurling from your back, they aren’t pleased.

For once, you’re glad that you have Leon to grip, eyes flickering from the firelight of your wings, dancing down his simple, elegant suit that seems to blend with the darkness and reflect the flames.

You realize that his hand has gone white, so you move to release your grip, but he pulls you back, a pleading look mingling with the fireflies blinking in his waning eyes.

“Please,” he whispers. “I might fall off.”

You laugh softly, but the cameras don’t miss anything. You both have been getting a significant amount of screen time compared to the other tributes, so when you finish your rounds, waving up at President Snow, the distaste curling your tongue disappears when Leon hops down and offers you his hand.

You accept it gratefully, cameras lingering on you both before switching to another duo. While Cinna gently removes the flaming wings, smiling proudly, Leon twists to grin at you, so genuine you could fool yourself into thinking that everything that comes out of his mouth is true.

“You’re pretty cute when you’re on fire,” he says simply. “You should wear gold more often.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you say before you can stop yourself. And then you remind yourself of what Claire said - he’ll be planning to kill you. You have to kill him before he can get to you.

So because whatever you sow, you must reap, you lean closer, knowing all the tributes are glowering at you, the attention undoubtedly set directly on you, distributed unevenly. You cup his cheek gently, deliberately, enjoying the flash of confusion rushing through his eyes.

And you peck a soft kiss to his jawline.

<><><><>

Just like the opening ceremonies, your training uniforms correlate with one another’s perfectly - looking out of place with everyone else wearing totally different things.

"Remember, these next days will determine your survival," Haymitch says as we enter the Training Center.

You steel yourself, knowing the horrors that await below. But seeing Leon’s steady, calm gaze as you descend among the other tributes, sizing each other up like prey, you realize that there’s nothing to doubt.

Rather than cower, you both stand tall and match strides, sticking with each other through every station. Of course, there are things that Leon is better at than you lack in, and vice versa. But instead of tripping you up, he helps you through it, just as you return the favor by explaining how to properly tie a knot, identify edible plants and start a fire.

No one will doubt your alliance. If anything, you wish for people to join your team, however temporary. But there is only a shadow trailing you everywhere, a boy that reminds you of your little brother, with his square, soft jawline and wide, innocent eyes.

He can’t be older than nine, so you take pity on him and keep your voice louder so he can overhear. Against all odds, you don’t want him to die.

Just like you don’t want Leon to die. You catch yourself watching him more and more, oftentimes keeping an eye on him while he stretches, admiring the tight coils of his body, so perfectly sculpted, like a statue from marble.

He must feel you looking, because he cranes his neck to spot you peering at him, then chuckles as you rush to finish your double knot from rope.

Leon doesn’t miss any chances to make snarky comments, whether it be during spear throwing, or the twenty minutes spared for lunch. 

But you never underestimate how dangerous he can be. Glimmer gives you the barest definition of a sneer, and within moments, with just a flick of his wrist, a knife sails past the tribute's throat. 

Her expression, plastered with shock, shows her thoughts.

Message received.

Slowly but surely, day by day, you earn everyone’s respect, however hesitant or however grudgingly, but you never miss the way they whisper as you stroll past, conversing with one another about which activity you’re going to excel at today.

“So, tell me.” Haymitch leans back in the dinner chair, hands resting on his stomach as the hazy look in his eyes fades away, the effects of the wine he had thirty minutes ago wearing off. “What can you do?”

“She’s the hunter.” Leon shrugs. “I can’t do much.”

“You carry around all that coal,” you point out. You’ve watched him from the forest, where he wheels the barrows filled with heavy, dusty blocks of coal back and forth, a fine layer of coal dust settling over his skin.

“Of course. My greatest weapon,” he deadpans. “Coal.”

“I meant your strength,” you grumble. “Be optimistic, can you?”

“You’re telling me.” Leon chuckles.

“Enough bickering,” Haymitch groans. “So, hunter, what’s your special gift?”

“I can… uh… well…”

“You’re not making this easy for me, are you?” Haymitch shakes his head, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Can’t you use a bow?”

You shake your head.

“Knives? Daggers? Spears?”

“Leon can use a knife,” you add. 

���Real helpful,” Haymitch drones. “Okay, here’s what’s about to happen. Leon, you’re going to teach her how to use a knife. And she’ll teach you to hunt. Deal?”

You’re pretty sure that’s what you’ve been doing, but for the last day of training, you agree to at least try your mentor’s advice.

Which is how you find yourself in this situation.

You sneak a glance back at Leon, who seems occupied, so you turn your attention back to the knife, gingerly picking it up and trying to mime a stabbing motion on an invisible target. Your face flushes crimson when you hear some restrained laughter behind you.

"Shut up!" you cross your arms and pout, turning away from him. "You’re supposed to be teaching me, not laughing at me."

You hear footsteps behind you, and before you can look over your shoulder, he's crossed the room and is standing against you, his arms encasing yours and fingers gracefully planting themselves against the hilt of the knife.

You glance up at him, but he clicks his tongue.

"Eyes down here, birdie," he says, and his low voice in your ear sends flames shooting from where his fingers meet yours and up your spine, straight to your head. Your chest twists as you suddenly have a name for the fire that ignites in the pit of your stomach, unmistakable and blunt against everything else fighting for a spot in your head. "Hold it like this."

"Got it," you mumble, your voice coming out even quieter than expected. Your pulse thrums under his, blond hair brushing the side of your cheek, azure eyes darting from you to the knife.

Leon abruptly pulls away, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. He takes an edged breath, and your heart slows. You palm the knife in your hand, turning to face him and twisting it through your fingers slowly.

"Careful," he murmurs. "You might cut yourself."

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you attempt dryly. 

Neither of you laugh.

<><><><><>

It irks you, to say the least, that none of the Gamemakers are paying attention to you. They’d rather make small talk about how divine the feast spread out in front of them is, or what they’ll be doing over the weekend, and it pisses you off.

So you reckon that to get their attention, you’ll need to show them you’re worth watching.

Their obliviousness makes you smile inwardly as you will your heartbeat to slow as you stalk towards the jovial crowd, drawing closer with each steady breath. Under cover of noise and distracted chatter, you were gaining.

The group is joking about how no one has impressed them yet. You’re about to change that. You crawl the final length on hands and knees, careful touch mapping the terrain so each advancement felt natural. Upwind, you find cover behind a silk curtain draped over a table and readied yourself. When laughter rises loudest, you strike.

Your arms wrap tight around a target, not quite caring who it is, twisted in an inescapable hold, your other hand covering their mouth to muffle their cries. The rest of the Gamemakers gape at you as you release the woman in your grasp.

She stumbles away, collapsing to her knees, gasping for air. The other examiners stare in both amazement and fear, searching your eyes soundlessly. 

“Thank you for your consideration? May I be excused?” Without waiting for an answer, you bow slightly.

And you take a step back, letting the shadows accentuate your face, saluting with a grin before melting back into the shadows, feeling worse about yourself than you were before.

You don’t expect the smile on Haymitch’s face, nor the slight amusement on Effie’s when they exchange a look as you explain your story.

“Well,” Leon says with a huff. “Now mine sounds boring.”

“You let your anger get the best of you,” Haymitch deduces, nodding. “Good. We can use some spirit.”

“But you said I needed to compose myself.”

“You’re forgetting something.”

“What?”

Haymitch leans back, a faraway look coming over him as if recalling another time, another Games. "We’re both still human. It’s in our nature to best those looking down on us.”

There seems to be an underlying meaning to what he says, but you don’t bother trying to figure out what it is. Instead, you tilt your head at Leon, gesturing for him to continue.

“How’d you do?” you ask politely.

“Not bad,” he admits. “Nothing showy like you. I just did what I did to Glimmer.”

“Immediate 12,” you say, shaking your head in fake remorse. “You exposed yourself to her, too.”

“But she’s pretty dumb,” Leon argues. “I think she’ll be out quick.”

He’s not wrong, you can say that much. There’s definitely competition, you know that, but there are certain tributes you know you don't need to stress over.

Leon admitting to his inferior performance startles you. He's changing, adapting to the game of puppetry they're slowly starting to implement onto you, preparing you for the games.

And you keep your eyes forward.

<><><><><>

In the room, stylists twist Leon's hair into elaborate patterns that fall over his eyes, casting shadows over his pale blue irises. He gives you a crooked smile with the side of his face as a makeup artist dabs his cheekbones with powder.

Leon's wearing a sweater that matches yours, except unlike you, he looks like he's been attending private school over the summer, spending his days playing polo and betting on horse races, a luxury only District 1 has.

You don't understand why Leon needs makeup. He already looks fine, but you suppose "fine" won't suffice for the Capitol’s games. You realize you’re glaring at him and quickly look away.

"Alright, let's go over this," Haymitch drawls, standing near the edge of the couch you’re sitting on. "You need to make it seem like you've been close friends with him, kept in touch for a long time."

"Got it," you say, slightly bitter. "Why couldn't you do this?"

"Because I’m not your mother."

"Aren’t you mentoring us?”

"That depends on how today goes," Haymitch says, but a small smile has crept onto his face. He shakes his head and glances down at you, eyes flitting to the complex camera system. "Do what you need to. Remember what's at stake here."

You nod and mimic the action before he walks away. Someone shoos all of Leon's artists away, sending them scrambling like a school of fish. And they’ve called your names, the district interviews being set with both tributes. In what world they assumed this would help the kids about to die to open up, you couldn’t imagine.

You see none of this confusion reflected in the preppy interviewer, Caesar Flickerman who is sitting near you, smiling eerily.

"So, you two, you look cozy over there," he says, waggling his eyebrows in a way that makes you want to throw up. "Let’s hear a little about you two, huh?" He turns, wide eyes boring into you.

Your intro is somewhat unsteady, the way he’s worded the question throwing you off. "Well, uh… we’re…”

"We've been friends for a long time," Leon finishes for you, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs. It sends warning bells ringing in your head, the informal posture, but you only hear the crowd swooning, so maybe it has something to do with his charming personality. He smiles warmly at the camera and the interviewer's own only grows.

"You’ve been friends since your childhood, yes?” he asks, directing a pen towards the both of you.

"Uh..." Leon's eyes cut to you.

"Yes," you say for him. "We've pretty much known each other for our entire lives."

"Mhm, yup," Leon affirms.

"Now, here's the biggest question on everyone's mind," he says, leaning forward in her seat. "Your story, from what I can tell, has its rocky start, but from what we can see on the cameras, something is blossoming between you. I mean, you both got an 11! Something doesn’t seem quite right.” As if on cue, scripted, the audience laughs. Caesar waggles his eyebrows cartoonishly. “Care to explain?" He lets out a boyish giggle.

"I'm... sorry?" Leon tilts his head, and by the confused look in his eyes you see he doesn't understand the full length of what the man said.

"I understand what you're implying," you begin, “but-”

"Wait, what, you do?" Leon turns to you, raising an eyebrow. "What does he mean?"

"Go ahead. Tell him what I mean," he says, long, curved eyelashes fluttering. He waves the camera over and you feel the gazes of what feels like the entirety of Panem on you.

It's Leon. He'll laugh at the implication and wave it off. He’s just some guy. You don’t care what he thinks, do you?

"He, along with the rest of whoever 'everyone' is, thinks we're together." The room holds its breath, Leon's expression unchanging. Then he smiles.

"Are we?"

"No, stupid."

"Women," he says, scoffing and turning to look at the other side. The camera zooms in on his face, and you can see a smile creep onto the side of his face.

"Leon has very readable emotions," you say, immediately getting his attention. He snaps back to you, eyes meeting yours in a challenging glare. You sit forward and he copies your movements, his glare cast downward as yours is cast upward. Your faces are so close that your noses could be touching.

"My lovely partner, as you can see, has visible reactions to everything I do. I guess I'm just too handsome for her to leave alone," he says smugly, a smirk curving his lips.

"Fuck off, you self-absorbed prick."

Leon leans forward. "Wow, are we giving them something to talk about?"

You meet his gaze without flinching. "No.”

He smiles strangely. "Your readable reaction says otherwise."

Your temper flashes. "Don't flatter yourself. I couldn't care less.”

“So, you two, hm?” Caesar Flickerman interrupts, glancing at you both, raising an eyebrow inquisitively, most likely trying to change the subject. “I didn’t expect that, now did I?”

“Neither did I,” Leon mumbles, trying to make it seem like a joke with a quirk of his mouth. “But here we are.”

Since you’re not responding, the interviewer keeps the questions to Leon, who responds with as much wit as he can muster.

“You should be proud to call such a…” Caesar struggles to grasp the right word for your personality. “Fierce young lady, your partner.”

“She isn’t my partner,” Leon replies casually.

“Then who does she belong to?” Caesar leans in, propping his head on his elbow. The fact you’re being objectified by this man, while you sit right in front of him, makes you want to lean over and punch him, crack that chiseled jaw, but Leon just scoffs.

“No one. She’s her own girl.”

You stare up at Leon, who looks back down at you from the side of his eye, slanting to meet your height. Something about that comment feels both complementary and insulting, as if he can’t decide on his opinion of you.

Maybe he’s trying to make up for what he said earlier. Or maybe he doesn’t care. You’ll admit that it bothers you slightly, the fact that he’s so unbothered by everything and that anything he says doesn’t pass you.

Then, finally, your interview is over, the buzzer ringing in your ears.

“That seems about all the time we have, folks.”

You don't know what to expect, but it's not the roar of protests that greet you as you stand and exit the stage, seething but as formal as you can manage.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Haymitch doesn't look any happier than you feel, but you dismiss it with a shrug.

“They could perceive it as…” Cinna shakes his head. “Trouble in paradise?”

“What part of this situation is even close to paradise?” You blanch. 

“The food?” Flavius suggests, voice as close to a helpful chirp during a quiet hunt, doing nothing to quash the anger that sears the back of your neck.

“Wait, seriously, listen to me-”

“The last thing I’m doing is listening to you, Leon,” you hiss. You turn back to your mentor, hands brushing.

"You both are excused," Haymitch mutters at your expression.

<><><><>

But something doesn’t sit right with you, so you storm over to Leon’s room, knocking rapidly.

A loose white shirt hangs low beneath his hips, covering his thighs and presumably shorts. He opens the door with blurry eyes, rubbing them, blinking down at you, tilting his head in confusion. “Need something, sweetheart?”

You scowl at the pet name and push your way past him. He gets the idea and closes the door behind you, locking it before turning to face you. His fingers tangle his already tousled mess of golden hair as he exhales slowly.

“What… happened back there?” you ask tentatively. 

“Haymitch… he wants us to play the romance card.”

A beat of silence passes. “Even if not one, but both of us die?”

“I guess it brings in more sponsors?” Leon shrugs helplessly, yawning, mouth stretching into an ‘o’. “Is that all you have to say?”

“What you said back there, did you mean it?” Leon arches an eyebrow. “About me… being… my own person?”

“I mean, yeah?” He cups the back of his neck and stretches, flexing his bicep. “It’s not like we’re complete strangers.”

“Of course not,” you mumble. “How could I ever forget?”

Leon chuckles. “Don’t tell me you still haven’t gotten over that.”

“Might be simple to you,” you say, “but I could’ve died.”

“Because I kissed you?”

“Because you ratted me out!”

Leon shakes his head. “That’s where you messed up. I didn’t say anything.”

You pause. Everything that you’ve assumed about him over the past six years, judging his character because of the strong belief he put your life in danger, seems to vanish. “You didn’t?”

“That was my brother. He saw us.”

“He did?” you exclaim.

“You didn’t think you were the only one to suffer the consequences, did you?” He attempts to keep his tone airy, but there’s something heavy behind it. Immediately, your mind goes to the morning of the Reaping, to the red on his face, to the close bond between the baker’s wife and Leon’s mother, and you make the connection.

“Oh, shit, Leon,” you murmur. “I’m so sorry.”

“Still want to be coached separately?”

Your lips twist into a grimace. “That’s not what this is about.”

The only response you receive is a small shrug. “Anyways, there’s nothing you could’ve done about it.” His eyes sparkle with unshed tears, but he keeps his voice steady. “I hope you know that even if you hadn’t… you know, kissed me, I wouldn’t have said anything.”

He ducks his head, not wanting to see your hesitant nod.

“I’m not a bad guy,” he says quietly, as if trying to convince himself. “It’s just… all anyone would talk to me about was my brother, the second Victor of District 12. There was no one for me.

“And you came into my life, just… there, and you were separate from the life that I had, all adoration for my brother. You gave me attention.”

“But what are we?” you press, more insistent. “I can’t play a game with you like that. I need to hear it straight.”

"You know what we are," Leon says, meeting your gaze. His eyes, however much they've darkened over the years, are still his, full of confusion. There's something different now, though. There's something guarding them, some kind of emotional barrier to keep from showing too much. Something he’s keeping.

"I used to think I did," you say. "But I don't think I do anymore."

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means.”

"I don't know." Leon mumbles. "How am I supposed to know? You don't fucking tell me anything, and it’s been almost a decade." His feet shuffle on the floor.

"A decade?" You laugh dryly. "Well, we are getting pretty damn close to that milestone, aren't we?"

Leon’s eyes flash dangerously. “You know it isn't that simple.”

“But it is,” you retort. "You don’t care.”

Leon leans in closer, voice dropping to a fierce whisper. “If you think I don't care, then you’re more naive than I thought. You have no idea what was really at stake.”

You match his tone, eyes glittering. “Enlighten me then. Go on, tell me how much you care."

"Why can't you just-

You lift your chin defiantly. “Just what, Leon?”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Get out.”

“You know what?” You brush past him, feeling his eyes linger on your back as you open the door. You don’t spare him another glance. “I think I will.”

<><><><>

The gong sounds and you launch from your metal circle, sprinting toward the Cornucopia with the others. Adrenaline surges through my veins as you spot a backpack and dagger nearby.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see one of the boys tackle another to the ground. A sickening crunch and the cannon fires - the first death in mere seconds.

Grabbing the supplies you were eyeing, you spin to flee but freeze in horror. Two Careers have Leon pinned, knives flashing as he fights like a cornered animal. Without thought, you whip your new dagger at the nearest attacker. It sinks hilt-deep in their neck with a wet thunk.

There is only a moment of shock before Leon retaliates, slashing at the second boy. Before long, they’re both crumpled on the ground as Leon picks through their freshly deceased bodies.

Your eyes meet amid the screams and clashing steel. For an instant, understanding passes between you blood-soaked survivors. Then you nod, turn, and run as fast as you can from the massacre, finding safety from the pounding of boots.

You rush into the thickening forest as more cannons boom, signaling the end of the initial slaughter. None pursue you further into the shadows of the trees. You slump against a trunk, chest heaving.

And yet your thoughts wander to how Leon is faring, to the crestfallen look on his face that surely must adorn his expression, because you could’ve allied with one another.

But you know it’s best this way.

There can only be one winner, after all.

<><><><>

You’ve had your eye on her since you woke up. She’s too loud to miss, like a clumsy deer separated from its family. She crashes into everything, making a racket, and she risks giving away your location, too.

So you track her.

Your footsteps are light, albeit not completely quiet. Still, your victim, the girl from District 5, has not noticed, and you adapt to the shadows, moving as one with them, as if you’re truly just back on a hunt in District 12.

How proud would Chris be of you? He would finally accept your hunting tread, finally praise you, stop teasing you for scaring away potential game. You long for his comforting presence here, but he is not here, and the one person who is…

Well, the person who just happens to be one of your next targets.

But for now, you watch the girl that stalks towards another clearing. She waits, cautiously glancing around every two seconds, wasting precious time. You’re just about to take another step towards her when you notice the subtle change, unmissable to your trained eyes; the shift of colors in one specific area.

The leaves are brighter, less natural, as if placed there intentionally. You do not say a word as the girl fails to see the thin strings glinting sunlight in her way, sharp and silent, waiting for her. One at her feet trips her, and before she can catch herself, the strings slice into her skin. She lies there, whimpering, held up by the threads, before the one pressing at her stomach finally cuts through.

She tumbles down, dripping crimson. A moan passes her lips, pained, like an injured animal, but somehow, she manages to take a breath and twist her body around, craning her neck to assess the damage.

For a second, it seems as though all is okay. And then the lower half of her body slips down, and crumples a few inches away from her. Her entire digestive system, coated in glistening blood, splays out in front of her, slumping into the dead leaves.

From this angle, you can see her open her mouth to scream, but only a gurgle comes out as her mouth fills with blood. She catches sight of her bow, the one she wore to the interview, the one you had noticed her clutching dearly to her chest, lying on near her fingertips, and she strains to grab it.

Something snaps in her neck and she twitches for a moment before going still. Everything goes silent, as if nature itself is witnessing this moment.

The beautiful girl whose clumsiness was her downfall, whose name I never knew lies on the ground, a horrible, gruesome sight left of the woman who was once a daughter, a sister, a friend. She does not move again.

But the shadows around her do. And from those same shadows I hide in emerge the Careers, brutish, beefy boys that I had not paid much attention to at training, because you were too busy looking at that little brat.

You wonder which one of them has the brains to set up such a complicated, subtle trap, so cleverly placed that you might’ve missed it if she hadn’t already died. Just as you resolve to watch them cackle at the poor, dead girl, you notice another figure slip from the shadows.

And once they step into the sunlight, dappling their face in aligned patterns, you almost drop your knife onto the ground.

The boy standing there is someone you don't expect.

Leon.

[ultrone]

✶ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 ꒱

synopsis. u steal ur girlfriend's sweatshirt

cw. no pronouns, just fluff & amber being moody

wc. 1.2k

Amber woke up to her alarm ringing, and as she rubbed her sleepy eyes, she realized it was Monday morning. She let out a deep sigh, knowing that it would be a long day at school. As she exited her bed, she glanced at her closet, searching for her favourite sweatshirt. But to her dismay, it wasn't there.

"Where the fuck is it?" Amber muttered to herself.

She had to find it, she just had to. It was the one that you had given her as a present, and ever since you told her how much you loved it on her, it had become her absolute favourite. She searched through her closet again, hoping that it would magically appear. She even checked her drawers, under her bed, and in her laundry basket, but still no luck. Amber felt a wave of frustration building inside her as she realized that she might have to go to school without it.

"Ugh, why does this always happen to me?" Amber groaned as she pulled out a plain black hoodie from her closet. It wasn't the end of the world, she reminded herself. It was just a sweatshirt. But it was the one you gave her, damn it, and she wanted to wear it.

She checked the time on her phone and realized that she was already running late. With a resigned sigh, Amber slipped on the black hoodie and headed out the door.

Amber found herself struggling to concentrate in class, feeling bored and disinterested. To make matters worse, she had already started her morning off on the wrong foot, and the only thing that could improve her mood was seeing you — though she knew she wouldn't be able to until third block. As she zoned out, she barely registered when Wes leaned over to talk to her.

"Hey, Amber, you look grumpier than usual today," Wes said, trying to be funny.

Amber snapped back, "Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Wes. Maybe if this class wasn't so mind-numbingly boring, I'd have a reason to smile."

Wes raised his hands in surrender, realizing he had touched a nerve. The class continued in silence until Amber's phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out to see a text from her girlfriend, causing a soft smile to spread across her face.

Seeing her sudden change in demeanour, Chad, who was sitting at the same table, piped up, "What got you so smiley, Amber? Did y/n text you?"

Wes and Chad chuckled, but it was clear they were just teasing her. Amber rolled her eyes and told them to shut up before she started typing a reply to her girlfriend.

y/n: can’t wait to see u later, i miss u :(

amber: i miss u too babe, can’t wait to get outta here and see ur beautiful face

y/n: awww ily ambs <33 i want it to be third block already

amber: i know, me too. i'm so bored in this stupid math class. wes is being annoying as usual.

y/n: lmaooo what's he doing now?

amber: just making dumb jokes with chad

y/n: well, just ignore them and think about how we're gonna have so much fun in PE later 😛

amber: oh yeah, so much fun in PE. just what i always look forward to, sweating my ass off and smelling like a gym locker.

amber: but hey, at least i get to stare at your tits, they bounce so nicely when you run ;)

y/n: LMAOO stfu ihy 😭

amber: 😙

As the minutes ticked by, both you and Amber continued to exchange messages, eagerly counting down the moments until you could be together again. Amber was so lost in conversation that she barely noticed the bell ringing, signalling the end of class. With a start, she realized that she needed to hurry to make it to the gym on time for PE. Quickly gathering her things, she rushed out of the classroom and made her way toward the gym, feeling her heart race with excitement at the thought of seeing you again.

As Amber made her way to the gym, her mind drifted back to the missing sweatshirt. She always wore it to PE, and now she was left without it. But worse than that, she knew that you would notice it was missing, and she felt bad for losing something that you had given her.

As she walked in, she saw her classmates getting ready for the class. They were all laughing and chatting, but Amber didn't feel like joining in. As Amber scanned the gym, she noticed that you were nowhere to be seen. Disappointed, she walked toward the lockers to get changed, hoping to see you there.

As Amber arrived at the lockers, she realized that you weren't there either. She quickly texted you asking where you were, but didn't receive a reply. She decided to get dressed and closed her locker, ready to head out to the gym.

Just as she was about to leave the locker room, you suddenly appeared from behind her and scared her.

"Jesus! What the fuck?" she exclaimed, jumping slightly. But as soon as she saw it was you, she relaxed and let out a laugh.

You immediately jumped into her arms, planting kisses all over her face, making her blush.

As Amber hugged you tightly, you continued to pepper her face with kisses, making her giggle uncontrollably. She then leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on the lips, savoring the feeling of your soft lips against hers.

But then, Amber's eyes fell on your sweatshirt, and she furrowed her brows in confusion. "Wait a minute," she said, mock-anger creeping into her voice. "Isn't that my sweatshirt?"

You looked down at the sweatshirt you were wearing and grinned sheepishly. "Uh, yeah. You left it at my place yesterday and I didn't want to say anything because it smells like you." You gave her your best puppy-dog eyes, hoping to win her over.

Amber looked at you with a mock stern expression before rolling her eyes and smiling. "I was looking for that all morning, you know," she teased. "But I guess now it'll smell like you too, so I'm okay with it." She leaned in to give you a sweet kiss on the lips. "But you better give it back to me after class or I’ll kill you," she said, her tone lighthearted and teasing. She didn't mind that you were wearing her hoodie; in fact, she found it endearing. But she couldn't resist a chance to tease you.

"Of course, of course," you said, grinning at her. "I wouldn't dare keep it from you. You know how much I value my life." You playfully crossed your heart with your fingers, pretending to be scared. "But can I at least wear it until the end of the day? It's so cozy, and it smells like you." You leaned in and nuzzled your nose against her neck, taking a deep breath to inhale the sweet scent of her hair.

"Mmm, sure. I suppose I can allow that for now," Amber said with a playful smirk. "But don't get too comfortable, because I'm coming for my sweatshirt after school." She ran her fingers through your hair and gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead before taking your hand and leading you towards the gym.

[skriblee-ksk]

The girls became victims of my designer Brain just casual outfits

OH MDMYYGGGYYH GODDF. IM SOOO OOSO HAPPY WTF. JANJAN. OKAY. SORRY FOR SEEING THIS SO LATE HORLLFY FCRSP.

Jan have i ever told u. u are literally godly at designing. like wow. okay. damn. wow. IDK I JUST DREW THE GIRLS REACTING TO IT AND YUYA’S THERE TO RECIEVE IT. JUST BC.

THE CLOTEHS SUIT CYNTHIA AND ADELIA’S PERSONALITY SO WELL???? THE CONSTANT REOCCURING STARS ON CYNTHIA’S OUTFIT IS SO SO CUTE

that and i rlly especially liked the frill on kiyuu’s pants it’s actually so perfect for her even if i couldn’t draw it here.

kalmia being insufferable as always. thank goodness yuya’s there so u can receive your proper thank you 🫶🫶

ANYWAYS YES. THANK YOU SM FOR DESIGNING THESE. ILY 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🙏🙏🙏‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️💥

[eeunoia]

Clingy and Yandere sunoo step brother plsss💕

warnings: yandere themes.

i hope you enjoy this! thanks for this requests. ily

“I’ll see you later, okay? Wait for me here.” Sunoo, your step brother says and gently placed a kiss on your left cheek before walking away.

You waved at him one last time and smiled watching your brother’s back. You failed to notice the pair of eyes watching you with a hint of judgment.

“I know you two are close, but don’t you think he’s too much for you?” your friend blurted the moment you two starts walking inside your building.

Your brows folds as you try to process what she just said. A little muddled by her odd question, your mind starts to wander off.

Sunoo and you were just kids when your Mother decided to re-marry to Sunoo’s Father. You’ve been wanting an older brother ever since so when he was introduced to you, you’re beyond delighted. Even if you two are not blood related, the love and affection he shows towards you are unmeasurable. He’s supportive, loving, caring and sure is protective of you.

There’s really nothing you can ask for.

“What do you mean?” you ask lightly and you two settled down at your chairs inside the lecture room. Thankfully, the professor for this class seems to be late once again.

She sighs and rolled her eyes.

“Him. His acts towards you are sometimes over the line. He’s so strict of you! We can’t even hang out without him knowing or tailing us everywhere.”

“He’s just really protective. And besides, don’t you enjoy his company?”

Your bestfriend rolls her eyes again because you’re missing out her point. It’s been a while since she started to watch Sunoo’s actions closely. It is given that you two grew up as siblings and your bond can be really tight, but she started to find it a bit bothering.

Sometimes she can see how he stares at you and that’s definitely not how older brothers look at their younger sisters.

“That’s not the point, y/n. He’s so clingy and touchy even! He gets upset whenever you get close to another guy and obviously gets jealous of them. He’s possessive of you which is totally a redflag. If I don’t know you two are siblings, I will mistook you two as a couple.”

Her words suddenly started to sink into you. She was right to everything she mentioned. Normally, older brothers loves to pick on their little sisters. Tease them nonstop and all. Sunoo’s total opposite. He’s so clingy towards you too. Have his arm wrapped over your shoulder or hands holding yours. Kisses on the cheeks or forehead. Frequent hugs. Before, they’re just innocent brotherly acts for you but after what your friend said, you hate how it suddenly felt awkward for you.

You are occupied the whole day of classes and you have nothing in mind but that topic. In the end, you thought to yourself that you will open this up to him and for sure you two can work things out together like usual.

“Y/n!” Sunoo waves happily while waiting for you.

Once glance at your friend and she’s already giving you that knowing look. You gulped and walked towards your brother after sending goodbye to your friend. The moment you were reachable enough for Sunoo, he quickly pulled you into an embrace.

Feeling a bit bothered because of what your friend told you, you’re the first one to break off the hug. He didn’t seem mind it and just decided to carry your things for you. When you two are finally alone inside his car, you cleared your throat.

“Oppa?” you called his attention and reached over your seatbelt.

“Hm?” he looked over you smiling. His sweet smile made you feel guilty of thinking such things towards him. His hand stretches and steals the handle of the seatbelt from you to do it himself.

“U-Uhm,” you started feeling slightly worried.

“What is it?” he asks softly raising both of his eyebrows, waiting patiently for what you’re about to say.

You heaved a sigh and decided to go for it.

“I think you should take it easy on being touchy towards me in public.” finally, you said it.

He was silent after hearing what you said.

“Y-You know, haha, because people may misunderstand it. (friend’s name) said sometimes we look like couples instead of siblings and it starts bothering me.”

The emotions in his eyes drained and you instantly felt fear. That was the first time you’ve seen him like that. You gulped nervously and can almost hear your heart beating frantically. You only felt relieve the moment he smiles again.

“Sure! No problem, y/n. If that’s what you want.” and you smiled brightly before hugging him slightly then thanked him for being understandable.

You went back on being talkative after that topic and shrugs it off. Sunoo’s smiling while listening to your stories, but something’s forming in his mind. A plan.

“O-Oppa...” your face were filled with tears as you choke on your own salive from crying too much.

Things aren’t totally sinking unto you. It happened to fast. You felt like you are floating and time stopped. You can feel nothing but pain over your chest. This isn’t the first time you’ve felt like this. The feeling of losing someone sure is unforgettable.

“Shh, I know baby.” Sunoo whispered and caged you inside his embrace, comforting his sweet little y/n.

You looked so small and vulnerable between his arms, crying and mourning for your bestfriend. It’s just 8 am in the morning when you received a call from her mother saying that she passed away. It said that its self exit, but you couldn’t understand any of it. She was completely okay yesterday when you two part ways.

You can feel yourself suffocating as you tighten your embrace to Sunoo. He moved away slightly and the fear of being left alone occured you.

“Don’t leave me oppa!” you exclaimed, crying louder.

Sunoo placed a kiss on top of your head and a smirk plays over his lips. “I will never leave you.” he whispered as he continued whispering comforting words.

He was ‘surprised’ when you suddenly walked inside his bedroom in tears saying that your bestfriend passed away. He didn’t waste any time and opens his arms for you. For his y/n, his sweet little angel. He will do everything for you. He will always be beside you and you will not need someone else besides him.

He tried his best comforting you, despite still feeling a little sleepy. After all, he stays up late paying your best friend a short visit.

“I’m here for you. I love you.” he whispers.

[lehguru]

SATURDAY NIGHTS + NAGI SEISHIRO

'cause i care, i care about you

there's nowhere i'd rather be

than right here right around you

i care, i care about you

nagi loves to play games until late during his break, but he loves you more

word count: 803

warnings: thank u @mars-yknow for beta reading! ily bby ♡♡; gender neutral reader, slight best friends to lovers, nagi is a lil simp + requests are open ! check pinned post for requesting rules

‘you up?’

the text lit up his phone screen and made a loud ping echo through the speaker. his dark eyes switched quickly from the game in front of him to the device, your contact name making him want to grab the phone immediately. the game turned red, his teammates complaining about his death. after muting himself and taking his headphones off, seishiro opened up your text. as nonchalantly as he could, he typed back.

‘yea. u good?’

he noticed the time. 2AM. if you were texting him, something bad must’ve happened. he came back to playing, but his eyes often flicked to his phone again, anxiety building up in his chest. at the exact moment he won the match and the player of the game started to appear, you replied:

‘i’m good. had a nightmare tho’

that was everything he needed to hear. he got up from his pink chair – chosen by you – and picked up his coat, running from his bedroom and into the living room. while he was putting on his shoes, he texted you that he was coming to your house.

and he did.

less than ten minutes after he last texted and saw your messages, the white haired male was in front of your door, knocking softly on the wood. you opened it, your sleepy eyes meeting his own; as you allowed him inside your home, you murmured.

“you didn’t have to come.” he let out a soft hum while taking off his shoes. “i didn’t want to disturb your gaming, i know you missed it.”

he wanted to tell you that you were more important than any videogame. he wanted to tell you that you were more important than his job as a professional soccer player. he wanted to tell you that he would leave anything and anyone for you, but everything that came out of his mouth was a weak “‘s cool”.

as if it was almost automatic, from the many many times he went to your place, his feet dragged him to your bedroom, you following him close behind. when he entered your room, a soft smile appeared on his lips. one of his hoodies was thrown on your bed – he assumed you were wearing it before he came – and the perfume you wear daily entered his nostrils; it was relaxing and he adored the soft scent. he threw his body on your chair, making you chuckle while you sat down on your bed.

“do you wanna talk ‘bout your nightmare?” he asked you, his black eyes scanning your expression. you blinked at him, your eyes heavy and slightly puffy, and shook your head. “aight. move over.”

he got up and kicked your leg with his foot, to emphasize his words. you moved to the side, expecting him to just sit down on your bed with you, but the boy pulled you to lay down with him. his arms quickly wrapped around your body, holding you close; he threw his leg over your hips as soon as you tried to squirm away from his grasp. even if he felt his heart racing at the thought of you that close, nagi managed to remain calm on the outside, his face looking at you with his usual neutral expression.

“sleep.” he murmured, his lips a little too close to your ear. you put your face against his neck, feeling the smell of his soap and his cologne slowly put you to sleep again.

you tried to deny it; you recalled reo saying that you and seishiro would get married in a couple of years, but you played it off as just a joke. you two were just really good friends. the way he looked at you told you something else.

his hand softly rubbing your back brought you back to reality. his fingertips softly traced your spine on top of the shirt you wore, rubbing circles when he got tired of the up and down movement. giggling, you whispered against his skin:

“what are you doing?"

with a chuckle of his own, seishiro answered: "what are ya doin'? sleep.”

you didn’t even know what got into you, but the words went past your lips before you could stop them.

“why did you come?” a sigh left your mouth and you pulled away from his neck. “‘m very grateful you’re here, but… we could’ve stayed texting. why did you come here?”

he looked into your eyes, an unreadable expression on his face. even if you couldn’t predict what he was thinking, there was something inside his raven irises that deeply shook you; your hand instinctively came up to hold his face and nagi leaned into your touch, closing his eyes.

“i will be here for anything you need. anytime.” with a soft yawn, he finished “i love you.”

2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used on them belong to their respective creators!!