#it was worth it to see him happy and excited and eating like a normal person

[thethespacecoyote]

ford eats like a bird most of the time, even on the stan o war, but when they make a stop at the boardwalk from their childhood ford goes CRAZY over all the sweets. he literally tries everything and stops stan every couple of minutes to get something new and even though stan knows he's gonna have a helluva stomachache later he can't bring himself to tell ford he shouldn't

also stan would 100% know the tricks behind the rigged carnival games and between that and ford's scarily quick reflexes they can basically win any prize they want

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

THE THINGS YOU DO FOR LOVE... ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru begs you to wear the frilly maid dress he bought. against your better judgement, you indulge him.

word count; 7.0k (this was supposed to be short but i miss him terribly)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly sweet, literally just satoru being down horrendous, lots and lots of petnames (he is embarrassing), he’s ur biggest hypeman, reader is a lil grumpy, satoru gojo is the most insufferable man on earth <3

a/n; this is just a silly lil wip i found in my drafts…. i dont remember what possessed me to write this i just think satoru would cry and fall to his knees and throw up blood if he saw u in a frilly dress

”— no.”

the word rolls off your tongue, instantaneous, with a decisive kind of sterness. leaving no room for hesitation, doubt or indecision; not a single gap for his argument to fit through, no loophole he could take advantage of to persuade you into giving in.

but despite all that, satoru just won’t back down.

”come on, baby, please?” he pleads, voice coaxing and sugary sweet. you can almost see those puppy dog eyes of his from behind the black glass of his shades. ”i already bought it and everything!”

”i don’t care,” you spit. a halfhearted attempt at appearing annoyed, in hopes it’ll distract him from the strawberry flush of your cheeks. ”i’m not wearing it. you shouldn’t have bought it, in the first place.”

”but sweetheart,” he drawls, tinged with a sadness he knows tugs at your heartstrings. ”it’s so cute. you’ll look so adorable.”

”not happening.”

”but —”

”— no. i’m seriously not wearing it, satoru.”

it’s harsh, the flow of your words, sharp and firm; but that’s your only option when he gets like this. your only slim chance at survival, being almost painfully direct. that doesn’t stop your resolve from weakening pitifully when satoru’s posture wilts, though, obviously exaggerated but still somehow effective. you debase yourself for being so weak for him. 

but giving in just isn’t an option, this time. 

under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t take too long for him to persuade you. satoru can be annoying, extremely so — but when he’s being so stubborn about something, there’s usually a good reason for it, even if it’s just that whatever he wants you to do will make him happy. to you, it’ll do.

(his happiness is your priority, after all.)

but in this case, there’s just no way. absolutely no way in hell.

he’s still holding that thing up, like he genuinely thinks it’ll support his argument, swaying it lightly side to side. it really, really doesn’t. it does the complete opposite, in fact.

”but angel,” he tries, again. you wonder if he’s eventually going to run out of petnames, or if he’ll just keep cycling through them until he runs out of air to breathe. ”don’t you wanna see how it’ll look on you?”

a sharp scoff flows from your lips. 

he can’t be serious. 

you really, really, really don’t. if anything, you want everything in the world except for that. you’d rather smash a glass bottle into little pieces and eat them one by one. you’d rather sit on satoru’s lap in a room full of other people. you’d rather jump in front of a moving train with explosives tied to your back.

— it’s so frilly. 

you almost couldn’t believe it, yourself. when he barged into the room, cardboard box in hand, fresh from the mail; all while wearing an excited grin, foreboding, but you were too mesmerized by it to even notice. 

it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, so you didn’t think much of it. satoru buying you gifts is not in any way unusual, even and especially if you tell him not to — and usually, it’d be a sweet occasion. the kind of moment you can soak in, drink up, and then recall fondly for the rest of the week. 

every single detail is worth cherishing. how excitedly he always opens it up, eager for your reaction, and how you always thank him, no matter what it is. sincerely, because satoru can be awkward with his affection, but his love bleeds through in moments like these.

from expensive, well-kept bouquets to little flowers on the side of the road; from thought-out gifts to little trinkets; no matter what it is, the sentiment remains the same.

(this made me think of you. i want you to have it. 

i remembered you mentioning this brand. i love you.)

a way for satoru to show his love, without overwhelming himself or you. a way of easing him into it, when everything is still just so new to him. 

buying you whatever catches his eye is the perfect solution, according to satoru. and it exasperates you, sometimes, when you come home to five amazon packages right outside your doorstep — but deep down you know it’s more for him than you. because it makes him happy, to be able to, allowed to show his love for you in ways like this. in normal ways, easy ways, that say more than his words ever could. 

(being granted the luxury of making you happy. of loving you, even if satoru doesn’t think he’s very good at that, just yet. but he is good at impulse buying things he knows you’d like; so that’ll have to do, for now.)

which is why you couldn’t help but let his infectious joy seep into your bloodstream, trickling its way through your veins with a sweet kind of fervour. couldn’t help but smile, a tender curl of your lips, in tandem with his cute little grin. couldn’t help but grow a little bit excited, as he opened the package — 

to reveal a cutesy, frilly, maid outfit.

— and then your mind screeched to a halt. 

the look on your face must have been something special, horrified and flustered in equal measure. almost in disbelief, as he immediately began to gush about the outfit in his hands. look at the bows, isn’t it cute? god, you’re going to look so pretty. i mean, you always do, obviously, but —

you weren’t really listening. all your mind could do was spin in circles, trying to get some read on the situation, but it was just no good. he genuinely, thoroughly, truly and sincerely expected you to put on a goddamn maid outfit. 

if he had bought it for himself, then maybe you would've been at least a little bit excited. you’re sure he'd look good in it; with those big blue eyes of his, that cute, happy grin. so good that your heart would probably combust, a little. melt through the floorboards. 

but no — he wanted you to wear it. 

and despite your instant, firm protests, he just will not give it up. your boyfriend is a stubborn man, so it’s no surprise, but it’s still enough to irk you.

”satoru, for real. no! i’m not wearing it!”

”but you’d look so good,” he whines, loud and grating as he inches closer to you. still holding the dress up like a prize; you back away, instinctively, like it’ll burn if you touch it.

”i don’t care! it’s a maid outfit! why the hell would i ever wear it?” 

sunglasses seated at the bridge of his nose, satoru allows you to catch a glimmer of his eyes — an effective method of persuasion. he definitely knows their power, and he’s definitely flaunting them for the sole purpose of making you falter. that manipulative scumbag.

the fact that it actually works makes you even angrier, though.

a sharp turn of your head, and your gaze falls on the windowpane, lingering there as you grumble under your breath. he’s so annoying. you’re growing more and more flustered by the minute, too. 

”— because you love me?” 

satoru tilts his head, white locks of hair following the movement. soft and silky, nice to run your fingers through, but you chase the thought away as soon as it enters your subconscious. he looks almost hypnotizing under the sunlight, with the golden rays illuminating his features, smoothing over the contours of his face — as if the sun was made solely to shine on his skin.

and ah, you think, there we go. satoru’s classic tactic; using your love for him as a bargaining chip, pouting down at you like a kicked puppy. you like to picture his eyes all watery and glassy, everytime he tries it, as if he’s some rejected cartoon-mascot. so silly. 

valiantly, you fight off the temptation to smile, gracing him with another little scoff instead. shooting him an unimpressed look, a tiny raise of your eyebrow. ”that won’t work on me.”

”aww, come on,” he almost coos, inching closer still. ”don’t you love me? my sweetiepie? my cute lil’ mochi?” 

(he’s getting bolder with the petnames, you note. as if that’d change anything. they’re so cheesy it makes you recoil.)

”obviously.” you deadpan, trying your best not to let affection seep into the words. but you see satoru’s lips curl up, anyway. ”i’m still not wearing it, though. sorry.”

satoru sighs. heavy, exasperated — dare you say defeated? for a second, you delude yourself into thinking he might actually give in, for once, spare you both the trouble — 

until he falls to the floor, knees hitting the soft flooring with a loud thud. awfully dramatic. he clasps his hands together as if to beg and plead, a starved dog at your feet, and gazes up at you with newfound determination.

”please, baby — i’m begging you,” he groans, voice sad and pained, agonized, like you just threatened to break up with him. silly, silly man.

”don’t grovel.” a sigh drops from your lips as the pads of your fingers go to massage your temples. soothing what you’re almost sure is an incoming headache.

and he makes a certain noise, almost a whimper, like you just kicked him in the gut. you glance down at him as if to signal really? with your eyes, lips parting to speak — 

but your breath only hitches in your throat, and no sound comes out.

satoru’s eyes are almost teary. peeking out from behind his shades, big and glassy, eyelashes dewy with what you know are just crocodile tears. he’s far too skilled at it for his own good, though — maybe you should be supporting his acting career, instead of the weird teacher-slash-sorcerer thing he’s got going on.

and you’re weak, you realize, terribly so. because something deep within your chest constricts, at those sad eyes, heart squeezed painfully, and when you speak you note that your voice sounds a lot softer. 

”satoru,” you sigh, again; more resigned this time, a little fatigued. missing the way his eyes glint at the sound, as if sensing an opportunity. ”really. i’m sorry i wasted your money, but it’s just… not happening. okay?” 

attempting to sound delicate, your voice settles on a soothing tilt, like an adult speaking to a tantrum-throwing child. hoping it’ll be enough to make him falter even slightly. 

it isn’t, of course; if anything, his determination only grows. 

”even just for a short while?” he tries, voice sweet and pliant. all daisies and sunbeams, tailormade to tug at your heartstrings. ”just an hour or so! then i’ll be satisfied.”

”an hour? no way!” you scoff.

and this time, you don’t miss it. from behind those shades, a certain glimmer of something flickers through his irises — something keen and observant. a certain dread crawls its way down your spine.

”so it’s fine if it’s less?” he grins, changing tactics, smooth and decisive. ”half an hour. that’s as low as i’ll go.”

”oh my god.” an exhale, drawn out and exhausted, from the very depths of your chest. ”satoru. toru. no. i’m not wearing it at all. this isn’t an auction.”

”but it could be,” he purrs, still on his knees. it makes him look a little bit disturbed. ”c’mon. why are you getting so shy? guess what — i’ll even settle for twenty minutes. just for you.”

oh, he’s just awful. you want so badly to be mad at him, and that teasing, smug, shit-eating little smirk of his — but you can’t. 

not when he looks so effortlessly pretty, bathed in the light of the sun, surrounded by a mellow glow so tender it makes him look something like an angel. not when he’s acting so characteristically himself, so stubborn and infuriating and entirely impossible not to love. 

another sigh. you’re a little surprised you have enough air left in your lungs to breathe it out, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re beginning to grow just a bit tired of the back and forth. ”i’m not shy,” you huff. ”i just don’t want to. it won’t look good on me, anyway.”

satoru blinks. genuine surprise shines in his eyes, for a second, like you caught him off guard. ”huh? of course it will. why wouldn’t it?”

a pause. gnawing at your bottom lip, you avert your gaze, trying to find the words. ”it’s just… tacky,” you settle on. ”it’ll look weird.”

”it won’t! you’ll look so cute!”

another huff, as your dispassionate, bored gaze meets his. ”and how do you know that?”

satoru's answer is instantaneous. ”you always look cute. just wanna see how you look in this,” he chirps, brandishing the outfit with barely contained excitement. thoroughly giddy. ”when i saw it, i knew it’d look adorable on you. and i’m never wrong!”

a soft pout plays at your lips, in the wake of his eager sincerity. barely noticeable, just a little embarrassed, but it’s there. and satoru’s seen it, finally — the road to victory. he knows he can win this, if he’s smart about it.

”i just wanna see you in it. just for a second. please? pretty please?” he tilts his head, tantalizing, showing off the blue of his eyes and the curl of his lips. ”then i’ll never ask you for anything again. promise!”

”okay, that’s a lie and we both know it.”

the grin that blooms on your lips is a mistake, you quickly realize, because satoru interprets any sign of joy on your face as positive approval. his determination grows.

”yeah, yeah… but i mean it! i won’t bother you if you just wear it once. just once!” he puts a single finger up, to emphasize the point. ”just wanna see my precious baby all frilly and cute. won’t you indulge me, oh my dearest?”

he’s grinning, now, all soft and teasing. it’s more breathtaking than he’ll ever understand. he’ll never even come close to understanding how gorgeous he is, like this — when there’s no one around to perform for, when he can just be himself. when it’s just you, and satoru, and the feeling of having all the time in the world.

(even if you don’t.)

and you know your face must be flushed, a soft cherry red, as your gaze falls to the floor. the heat on your cheeks and neck, the pitter patter of your heartbeat; you feel it all. 

and it’s embarrassing, to find yourself so fervently twisted around someone’s finger — to find that you don’t even really mind. being wrapped around satoru’s finger isn’t so awful, all things considered. it’s a scary thought, for sure, but he’d never abuse the privilege. probably.

— a sigh. 

you still don’t want to wear it. you really don’t. it’s just awful. tacky, and embarrassing, and overall unpleasant. 

… but if it’ll get him to stop nagging you like this… 

and if it’s just for a short while…

silence, only silence, spilling into the sunkissed air. outside your apartment, the sky melts into a buttery orange hue. an intense contemplation is etched into your eyes, and satoru takes note of it; opting to put the final nail in the coffin. his very last bid.

”fifteen minutes. then you’re —”

”ten minutes,” you cut him off. sounding just a tad exhausted — resigned to your fate. 

and satoru doesn’t even bother trying to hide his excitement. suddenly beaming, he shoots up to his feet, and it causes you to jolt. ”perfect,” he grins, holding the dress out toward you. a little too eager for your liking.

”— but seriously. i’m only wearing it once. never again,” you tilt your head. ”got it?” satoru just nods, happily, so excited he’s practically jumping up and down — and despite everything, you still can’t find it in you to be angry. 

he looks so earnestly giddy.

eyes brimming with suspicion and weariness, your hands reach out to take it into your arms; the puffy dress, the frilly headwear, and the black thigh highs. you’re surprised he didn’t invest in a pair of shoes, while he was at it. just to complete the set.

(you decide not to comment on it, knowing he’d have some poor, overworked shoemaker on the phone within seconds.)

”need my help putting it on?” he purrs, face suddenly very close to yours — and the sudden stutter of your heartbeat sparks a hitch of your throat. desperate to cover it up, you shoot him a hefty glare.

”oh, shut up,” you hiss, but satoru only grins wider. soft little giggles flowing from his lips, like a schoolgirl teasing her upperclassman. silly.

a heavy hesitance rests on your features, as you give the outfit another chance. judgemental eyes trailing over the bows and frills, giving it a thorough look, until your lips curl down into a soft frown. it’s not that bad, but…

”it’s kinda ugly,” you lie, decisively.

”really? i think it’s cute, though.” 

”yeah, ’cause you have no taste.” a click of your tongue. ”what’s so great about maid outfits, anyway? i don’t see the appeal.”

satoru smiles. carefree, amused — still very much teasing. ”well, we’re about to find out,” he chirps.

you give him a look, eventually giving way to a soft exhale. ”fine — but only ten minutes. at most.” a pause, as you stop to think. what else? ”oh, and no taking pictures.”

”— i’m taking pictures.”

…

the exasperated look you send his way doesn’t seem to phase satoru even in the slightest. he continues to smile at you, unbothered, soft around the edges, and you know you’re not winning this one either.

”… fine,” you sigh. ”but — not too many, okay? and you aren’t allowed to show anyone, either.”

”of course not,” he scoffs, almost offended. ”as if i’d let anyone else see you like that.”

stuck between feeling relieved and put off, you settle on simply letting it go. and satoru continues to speak, reassuringly, glossy lips shining in the sunlight as they part.

”rest assured, baby,” he hums, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. ”this stays between us. i swear on my honour.”

you snort. ”like you’ve got any of that.”

”mean. anyway — c’mon. i can’t wait any longer.” before you can think to protest, he’s ushering you away in the direction of the bathroom, big hands heavy on your shoulders as they push you. still hesitant, you make no move to resist.

(what have you gotten yourself into?)

with one final sigh, your fingers curl around the doorknob, outfit hanging off your arm. not before sending one final glance back at satoru, reinstating your conditions. ”just this once. then you’re selling it. or burning it.”

”yes, yes — you have my word,” he promises. before you can narrow your eyes, he pushes you forward, gently; bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. ”go on, i’m waiting!”

”yeah, yeah…”

the door closes behind you with a soft thud, and the reality of the situation begins to finally dawn on you. the maid outfit weighs heavy on your heart, but light in your arms — you gaze down at it with pure contempt. it’s not like you have a choice, though. satoru won’t let you wriggle away from this one. and maybe, just maybe, a part of you wants to indulge him, after all.

(his smile shone so brightly, in the light of the sun.)

and it’s almost cautious, the way you begin to dress yourself; first the thigh highs, black and silky, then the outfit itself. pulling it over your head, your arms sneaking through the openings. 

it’s a perfect fit. 

a second passes. you stop to think, brows furrowing in suspicion — did the little bastard measure you? just to make sure he got it exactly right? he has been rummaging through your closet more than usual, recently, but you didn’t think much of it. over the years, you’ve conditioned yourself not to question the things that he does. that sneaky, sneaky man.

after putting on the headwear, you finally lift your gaze, tentative and slow — to take a peek at your own reflection. the flush on your face stands out, a contrast to the black and white colour scheme of the outfit. 

and you can’t help but exhale, a little exasperated.

it’s so… frilly. there are frills on the sleeves, on the shoulderpads, on the skirt, on the hems… everywhere. little bows litter the surface of the smooth fabric, a big one attached to the collar, and several smaller ones across the sleeves. 

and as much as you loath to admit it — it is kind of cute. 

still, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re only embarrassing yourself. it’s hard not to think, when a maid outfit is staring into your soul through the mirror — and you just so happen to be wearing it.

(what the hell are you even doing?)

a low groan slips from your lips, and you crouch down, to bury your face in your knees. the flush of your cheeks is beginning to spread towards the tips of your ears, growing hotter by the minute. satoru’s about to see you like this, of all people. how on earth will he react?

(what if he thinks it looks weird, too?) 

”i’m still waiting!” a voice suddenly exclaims, sing-songy and sweet, and closer than you realized. has he just been standing there and waiting in silence, this whole time? of course he has.

”just —” you croak out, words a little strangled. ”just… give me a minute.”

satoru lets out a high-pitched whine, cheek pressed against the cold wood of the door. ”but i’ve been waiting so long already!” he complains, pouting, the urge to see you growing unbearable. impatience tugging at his heart, so excited he can barely pull himself together.

(all he can think of is you, you, you.)

curling up into a little ball, you attempt to swallow the bundle of nerves in the back of your throat — but that jittery, feather-light feeling of your heartbeat just won’t go away. it makes you feel a little paralyzed.

you're actually, genuinely, sincerely about to go show off a goddamn maid outfit. what the hell.

when you finally grasp control over your vocal cords and part your lips to speak, the voice that spills out into the air sounds more than a little meek. but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, overcome by a heart-tingling nervosity and the heat of your skin.

 ”… i don’t want to.”

satoru pauses. 

he can picture you, in his mind’s eye; the way you must look, right now. clad in frills and a cute little skirt, face flushed red and embarrassed, as you shift from foot to foot. and it takes concentrated effort, to bite back the coo that threatens to crawl up his throat — but he knows it’s still not too late for you to change your mind. if he wants to see you, he needs to be careful. so he tactfully opts not to tease you.

”come on, angel,” he soothes, instead. voice smooth like honey, like coffee with cream and too much sweetener. ”don’t be embarrassed.”

you stay silent, still attempting to suffocate the tinge of humiliation in the depths of your chest. so satoru continues. ”just come on out, hm? might as well get it over with. then you won’t have to think of it again.”

a moment passes.

”… do i have to?”

the corners of his lips curl up.

ah, you’re so cute. all embarrassed, almost childish, in the way you’re still trying to be difficult; and satoru just indulges you, all too eager to get you to show yourself to him. ”yes, you do,” he coos. ”be good f' me and come on out, okay?”

a couple moments pass. eerily silent, growing second by second. the only sound that fills the air is that of satoru’s soft breathing, the distant whirring of the ceiling fan.

until finally, he hears the squeak of the bathroom floor. you stand up, turning to glance at your reflection in the mirror one last time, before hesitantly reaching for the doorknob.

it’s slow, the way you open the door, agonizingly so — pushing at it slightly and dragging the movement out. and you can feel satoru’s presence, right behind it, as he takes a step back to give you space. when you finally step over the threshold, you adamantly refuse to meet his gaze.

(satoru’s breath hitches in his throat.)

there you stand, gaze stubbornly averted, expression flustered and mildly annoyed. cheeks dusted a dark cherry-red, that crawls towards the tips of your ears as you fidget with your frilly, oversized sleeves. they’re dressed in little bows, awfully cute, and so is the skirt — short, but not enough to expose the skin of your thighs above the thigh highs. you still squirm a little, thighs pressed together. 

and then, of course, the big bow on your collar to complete the look. pink in colour, a stark contrast to the whites and blacks of the remaining outfit.

after a moment passes with nothing but pure silence, your lips part to speak. doing anything you can to stop yourself from looking over at the man in front of you, afraid of what you’ll see. ”i don’t think it suits me,” is muttered, a tiny huff. ”… and i still don’t see the appeal, by the way.”

— but satoru doesn’t answer. 

he just stares. uncharacteristically silent, in a way you’re wholly unaccustomed to. enough so that you find yourself gnawing at your bottom lip, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt, hoping the smooth texture will soothe your nerves a little. the beating of your heart resounds in your ears, sending blood flowing through your veins with excited pumps.

the silence festers, and all you can do is let it grow, your nervosity thickening with it — until it’s just too much to bear. 

(ahh, you knew it. it really does look weird, doesn’t it? that’s to be expected. 

still, you can’t help but feel just slightly dejected.) 

”… why aren’t you saying anything?” 

the little mumble comes out sounding embarrassed, and maybe just a little defeated, too. but satoru doesn’t hear it. as your gaze falls on the man in question, slowly, you take in his expression with a frown on your face — and realize that he isn’t just keeping quiet. 

he’s completely stunned. 

no matter how hard you stare, you can’t seem to get a good read on his expression. he’s just standing there, face completely blank, eyes entirely obscured by the black of his shades. the light streaming in through the glass of the windows has shifted its course, falling away from the two of you — but you still see the vague, red tinge crawling up his neck. 

and as soon as you spot it, satoru begins his descent.

crouching down to the floor, silently, he brings his hands up to cover his face. feet against the ground with his knees folded, pressed against his chest, stilling as he inhales sharply. shades seated on top of his head, pushed up by his hands when he buried his face in them. a groan drops from his lips, muffled by the skin of his palms — but you can hear it clear as day.

”hold on, just… give me a minute…” he finally croaks out, words somehow tiny. almost shy. 

upon closer inspection, you realize your eyes weren’t deceiving you — there really is a red hue to his neck, one you aren’t used to seeing on him. strawberry-tinged dust, staining his smooth skin, the tips of his burning ears. satoru actually looks flustered, for once. and your heart can’t help but flutter.

— he thinks he might actually, genuinely die.

it’s a wonder, he thinks, that he managed not to fall to his knees the very moment he laid eyes on you. all dolled up; frilly and cute, in his own words, though they don’t come even close to properly describing how adorable you look right now. with your flushed face, shy eyes, and all those little frills and bows adorning your dress. rendering him speechless, clogging up his throat with pure unbridled love. a mouthful of honey, too sweet for even him to swallow.

god. god. he really, really needs to pull himself together.

crouched down like this, face hidden behind his hands, he can physically feel himself grow more and more flustered. senses invaded by the sound of his heartbeat, deep and visceral, until it’s all he can hear — he knew you were going to look cute, obviously, but he was seriously underestimating you. your cuteness is lethal. 

even just the sight makes him weak in the knees. even just the thought of you makes him feel a little like his heart is attempting to break out of his chest. hurling itself at his ribcage with ferocious resolve, like he could keel over and die of heart failure at any given moment. he’s pleasantly surprised that he’s managed to suppress the loud squeal his body keeps trying to let out, honestly.

and while satoru struggles with his deep, internal turmoil, all you can do is watch. looking down at him with wide eyes, as his skin flushes a bright pink, like little chrysanthemums blooming from his neck up to his ears. 

yeah, you think, there’s no doubt about it. satoru is flustered. it’s not a side of him you get to see very often, so you can’t help but be just slightly caught off guard. staring at him silently, until you snap out of it, eyes simmering with something soft and delighted.

he’s so cute.

(and maybe, just maybe — it makes you want to tease him, a little bit.)

so you crouch down, facing him with your knees against your chest, jaw resting on your crossed forearms as you gaze at him. he’s still not looking at you, face hidden behind his palms, shying away from your view.

and then you sigh. the sound catches his attention, soft — and just a little bit dejected.

”… you’re the one who wanted me to wear it,” your lips curl down into a pout, ”and now you won’t even look at me?”

satoru stiffens. 

(you sound sad. you sound disappointed.)

slowly, he parts his fingers, desperate to soothe you — blue eyes peeking out through the gaps, as if the sight of you could blind him. he then proceeds to move his hands, tentative, laboured, like he’s dragging heavy weights off his body. like it’s a struggle. 

with his face finally exposed, all flushed and pretty, bright azure eyes stare at you; brimming with pure adoration. 

satoru exhales, almost shaky. he has to take another moment to simply look at you, as if drinking in every inch of your expression. memorizing every corner of the face he’s grown to love so much.

a moment passes. then two.

then, he practically pounces on you — engulfing you like a tidal wave, trapping you in his big arms as they go to curl around your waist. shades falling off at the impact, hitting the floor with a soft thunk.

”you’re killing me,” he whines, loud and right by your ear. nuzzling into you, squeezing you like he’s a puppy with a chew toy. ”you’re so, so, so cute. d’you want me to have a heart attack?”

a hitch of your breath. that’s all you can manage, utterly failing to keep up with him as he presses you up against his chest. rocking you back and forth in his embrace, smearing open mouthed kisses across your skin; whining and murmuring about how adorable you look. 

a flurry of warmth, of love, of something a little too precious for words. something distinctly satoru, that makes you forget about everything else — as if the world stops spinning somewhere outside of his arms. as if that’s where you belong.

all you can do is indulge him. maybe you’re spoiling him a little too much, but it feels nice; letting him drown you in his overwhelming affection. the thought of creasing the dress doesn’t even seem to cross his mind, as he squeezes the life out of you.

evidently, satoru suffers from an acute case of cuteness aggression. 

”so adorable,” he murmurs, leaving wet kisses on your cheeks. his exaggerated mwahs make you feel just a tad shy. ”my little sweetheart. all dressed up for me.” 

squirming in his hold, he only brings you closer, smothering you in his warm embrace. the slightly erratic beating of his heart is all you can hear, with your cheek squished against his chest. arms keeping you nice and still, lips lingering over that one ticklish spot behind your ear. 

a little giggle slips from your lips, and satoru feels himself smile; wide and giddy, boyish and adoring. nuzzling into the comfort of your chest, soft fabric brushing against his skin, a low whine escapes his throat. ”can't take it. wanna put you in my pocket.”

”your pocket?” a grin blooms on your lips, words dripping with honeyed amusement. satoru grins right back.

”my pocket,” he hums, approvingly. ”you’re just so cute and small. gotta keep you close, so i don’t lose you.”

a huff, lighthearted. 

suddenly, the grip around your midriff tightens — and you’re hoisted up, stumbling a little as satoru lets go of you. still holding onto you by your wrists, softly, delicately, as if you’re made of glass. when you lift your head, all you can see is his satisfied little grin, and the twinkle of his eyes.

your heart flutters. 

satoru gazes at you, silently, still drinking you in. every second spent staring into the brightness of your eyes fills his heart up just a little more; colourful, heart-shaped candies, scooped up and poured into the hole in his chest. patching it right back up, so effortlessly sweet that it makes him want to pluck every star from the sky and offer them at your feet. 

”alright,” he breathes, taking a step back. breaking the delicate silence, a little dance between him and time. fingers still curled around your wrist. ”do a twirl for me.”

a humoured scoff. ”hell no.”

”aw, come on! you gotta pose for the photo, baby.”

before you know it, satoru’s got his phone out — and it’s aimed right at you. by the time you notice it, you’re fairly certain he’s already managed to snap a couple pictures. so all you can do is sigh, in faux exasperation.

”c’mon, c’mon,” he coos. ”give me a smile, pretty.”

a roll of your eyes, as you bite your lip to muffle a soft bout of laughter. it doesn’t really work. ”i’m good.”

satoru seems unaffected by your words, pulling back from your touch reluctantly; just so he can make a show out of playing the cameraman, switching between elaborate positions and taking pictures from angle after angle. somehow, you get the feeling he’s forgotten your request to keep the pictures to a minimum.

(he looks like he’s having fun, though. so you let it slide. just this once.)

”god. you’re way too cute for your own good, you know that?” he murmurs, leaning down to take another picture. and it flusters you, how smoothly the words slip from his lips, how it seems like he barely even has to think about them at all. 

it’s a little embarrassing, in a heart-fluttering kind of way. but you do your best to hide it.

”you’re a sap,” is all you say, soft smile playing at your lips. 

”and you’re adorable,” satoru grins. 

then he slips his phone into his back pocket, satisfied with the collection, and grabs your hand.

his fingers curl around yours, softly — and then he lifts it up. bringing it to his lips. they’re warm, as he kisses across your knuckles, the tips of your fingers. soft as a feather, tickling your skin. 

(as if he’s whispering psalms under his breath. as if he’s worshipping you.)

then he tilts his head, eyes gazing at you sweetly. sweeter than fresh mandarin slices, splotches of marmalade, his favorite caramel fudge. and his eyes crinkle, crow’s feet and dimples peeking out as he smiles, an easygoing kind of joy blooming on that pretty face of his — youthful, boyish. it suits him more than anything.

his voice comes out smooth, awfully coaxing. so very easy to give in to, paired with that breathtaking grin. 

”one tiny twirl?” he asks, politely.

he’s so annoying. 

(but you’re far too in love to say no.)

so with a single roll of your eyes, and a soft little scoff, you relent. indulging him once more, just one more time. just one little twirl.

satoru feels his heart squeeze painfully, deep within his chest, as he watches you spin around. skirt and frills ruffled by the movement. just once, a soft little twirl with your fingers intertwined. far too precious for his heart to take.

when you stop, just a tiny bit dizzy, he leans in, and the kiss he leaves on your forehead is soft. chaste, but it still pulls a blissful sigh from the back of your throat. satoru’s lips curl up against your skin, before he pulls back — eyes almost overflowing with affection.

”cutie.”

you blink. 

averting your gaze, flustering a little under the weight of his love-filled eyes, all you can do is emit a soft little huff. embarrassed, as it flows from your lips. but it only makes satoru’s smile grow further.

”okay, okay. you’ve had your fun.” you clear your throat. ”time’s up.”

suddenly, satoru’s eyes fill with something akin to dread — nose crinkling, just barely, a sign of his displeasure. ”noooo,” he whines, draping his arms around you. tugging you close. ”just a little more? please? pretty please?”

”nope! we said ten minutes. no take backs.”

”can’t i have an extension? since i’m your favorite?” satoru pouts, puppy dog eyes in full force. only this time, they don’t work as well as he’d hoped.

”nope,” you repeat, popping the p. ”sorry.” another whine buzzes right by your ear, and you smile. 

”and then we’re burning it.”

”noooo!” 

”sorry, but it’s gotta go.” you bite back a soft grin. satoru sounds agonized, voice dripping with grief, and it makes your heart dance with barely contained laughter.

”but then you can’t wear it anymore, baby…”

”that’s kinda the point, toru.”

”but you’re so cute in it,” he pouts, bringing you closer still. squeezing at your waist and rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. ”it’d be such a waste if you never wore it again, don’tcha think?”

he’s trying his best, you can tell — attempting to make you falter, coax you into wearing it just a little longer. but for today, you’re done indulging him.

”well, too bad.” nuzzling into his neck, your tone settles on a firm tilt; decisive, as you nip at his skin. just a little teasing. ”i said i’d never wear it again, and i meant it.”

a moment passes. maybe it’s the warmth of your lips on his skin, or maybe he can tell you aren’t budging — whatever the case, satoru finally seems to relent. an exhale tumbles from his tongue, deep and drawn out. ”fineee,” he drawls. ”i’ll just buy you a new one.”

”i won’t wear it. i’ll just get angry.”

”at lil’ old me? really?”

”really really,” you click your tongue. ”if you love maid outfits so much, why don’t you wear one yourself?” a beat. ”it’d look good on you.”

satoru perks up, suddenly. pulling away so his eyes can meet yours, bright and teasing, glazed over with something excited. ”oh?” he purrs. ”you wanna see me in one, huh? so bold, baby.”

a scoff slips from your lips, sharp but tinged with laughter. ”well, it’s only fair, right?” grinning up at him, your hand reaches out to smooth away his bangs. fingertips trailing across the expanse of skin, touch so very tender that his eyes flutter shut. ”i think you’d pull it off better than i ever could, anyway.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, seconds ticking by slowly; a dance with him and time. an attempt to prolong the softness of the moment.

”hmm… well, i’ll consider it.” just barely holding back a smile, he leans into your touch. ”you gotta wear it with me, though. we can buy a matching set!”

”that makes no sense,” you huff, with a raise of your brow. ”i’ve already worn it once, so next time, it’s gotta be all you.”

”sorry, baby, but you need to do it too.” he cradles you close, smoothing a palm down your spine, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. chest rumbling with the smooth timbre of his voice, words rich with teasing fondness. ”i’m too shy to do it by myself.”

and you really, really wish you could be angry with him — but it’s just impossible. 

satoru is just way too lovable, smile far too sunny and warm for you not to melt under. and his caress says more than words ever could, light and doting, careful and loving; like how a believer cups a handful of holy water. as if you could slip from his grasp at any moment, so he has to keep you extra close.

in the end, all protests and complaints die on your tongue. you only laugh, soft and breathy, filling the air with a fondness so palpable you can almost taste it. bordering on something close to a scoff, but never quite getting there. 

eventually, satoru does — begrudgingly — let you change out of the outfit. whining a little, sulking a tad, before brightening right back up again. like clockwork, the sun peeking out after a rain shower, the calm after the storm. always that same happy smile, wrapping you around his little finger.

satoru, in all his glory; your very own pocket of sunshine. annoying, stubborn, thoughtful — 

and yours, wholly and thoroughly.

(while you’re busy gazing at him adoringly, satoru grumbles under his breath. contemplation painted on his features, as his mind spins in circles. frills, bows, lace…

what kind of design would make him look the prettiest for you?)

[lateatnewyork]

Hi lovely! First of all: your writing is amazing. You have a huge potential, keep up your good work! I'm proud of you. Listen, of courseee now that I've flattered you I need to request something xD

SO! I was thinking maybe fluff prompt 11 with Azriel. Like it would be their first pregnancy together and Azriel took some time off from missions to spend time with you? He's being super protective and all, always having a protective hand over the reader's belly- you get the idea. And like they would be laying on the couch and he would just randomly whiff of the reader's scent filled with her pregnancy hormones and be like, delighted with the scent? It was just an idea I had: I figured you would be able to make it into beautiful words. Like always.

Take care!

Babies

Azriel x Rhysand sister!reader

Warnings: pregnancy, fluff, suggestive

Prompts: N/A

Summary: It’s your first pregnancy and Az is being an overprotective mate. But you love it.

a/n dude i literally love @azsazz for all her dad!azriel fics also i don’t think ultrasound pictures are a thing in acotar so bare with me, i hope you don’t mind i didn’t include prompt 11 i just didn’t think it fit into the story.

“You’re pregnant,” Madja’s voice rang through my ears.

“Pregnant, that can’t be” I whisper. “Y/N my dear it turns out you are really fertile, more so than normal fae females,”

“I’m having a baby,” I mumble out, “I need to tel Azriel, when should I see you next?”

It wasn’t as if Azriel and I hadn’t talked about children. Fuck we had come up with baby names before all of this. So why was I so nervous as I waited for Az to come home.

Madja had given me a picture of the babe. I had it laid on a table with a cake that said “You’re gonna be a dad”.

The time seemed to pass slower, the clock’s ticking dimmed. I could hear the songs of the birds returning for the night, see the sunset pour into the room.

The door clicked, and I practically jumped out of my seat and rushed to the open it. I think I gave Azriel a heart attack with how quickly, I opened the door and pounced on him. He reciprocated my actions with a searing kiss.

“Hi,” I whisper against his lips, he chuckles and shuts the door, making sure to lock it. “What’s gotten you so excited?” he asks.

“I have a surprise for you in the kitchen,” I murmur my mind still hazy from the kiss.

“Oh you do?” he smirks. Rolling my eyes, I jump off and grab his hand, “It’s not that kind of surprise,”.

Guiding him by his arm, I drag him towards the kitchen. Standing on my tippy toes, my hand goes to cover his eyes right before we enter the kitchen.

I look around at the swirls of black surrounding both Az and I’s torsos. Leaning down, I whisper “Don’t tell him anything,”.

As if they hear me they frantically move up and down as if saying yes.

Taking a deep breath in, we walk into the kitchen. Reluctantly pulling my hand away from his face, I look at him in anticipation of his reaction.

His eyes flutter open, taking in his surroundings, he looks at the picture of the babe in my stomach, then his eyes wonder to the cake. He takes in the words written on the cake.

Turning around he gapes at me.

“We’re having a- you’re not joking right?” he says frantically. Unable to form words I shake my head as a no.

Within seconds, he’s picked me up and he’s twirling me around in the air.

I shriek at first but then it dies down into a soft smile as I see how happy he is. Once he’s put me down on the ground, he kneels and pulls up my shirt.

“Mummy and Daddy love you so much” he kisses my belly.

Halfway through my pregnancy, Azriel forced Rhysand to let him off until the babe was born. He spent every waking moment with me, making sure I was drinking enough water, eating enough food and stuff like that.

The pregnancy made him more protective, he growled at every single male he saw, that looked at me. But seeing the fearsome spymaster, on his knees kissing my belly or holding my belly from behind to relieve me of some of the pain was all worth it.

He had cried the day the babe’s scent finally came. He had promised me that he would be the best father ever. Not that I had any doubt about it.

I stayed at home mostly, to satisfy Azriel and also because no one wants to walk around a lot when you’re so close to your due date.

That’s why I was currently lying on top of Azriel, my back pressed against his chest as he read me one of the books Nesta had given me.

But all I could focus on was his voice. A rich melody filling the room like a sweet song. I shuffled against him.

He took a deep breathe, taking in the scent of the babe. And my pregnancy hormones. The second they hit his senses, he let out a deep growl that went straight down my spine to my heated core.

I carefully twisted around so I could kiss him. His soft lips pressed against mine, sent me into a frenzy. The way his arms grazed up my shorts and down the arms of my sleeveless top.

“Az,” I whine against his mouth, “Don’t be a tease,”.

“I would never dream of it my love,” he says grinning.

My hormones swapped out for a droopy feeling. I yawned against his chest. He chuckled and kissed my head. Going back to reading, he drew mindless circles on my exposed shoulder. And finally for the first time in days the babe had finally let me sleep.

“You and our daughter are my heart, darling” and that’s the last thing.

Cassian had barged into the living room of the couple’s new house. “How’s my favourite sister in la-”.

Azriel tells him to shut up as he motions to the sleeping figure on top of him. “Sorry,” Cassian winces.

Just seconds later Rhysand stomps into the room, “Where’s my sister?” he asks as he looks over at Cassian. “Don’t be too loud you’re going to wake the demon,” he whispers pointing over at Azriel and I. Lifting up my middle finger, I aim it towards Cassian and then mutter out a “Fuck you” loud enough for them to hear.

“Althea doesn’t like you, Rhys” I say, giggling.

“Oh and how would you know that sister dear?” He says with a roll of his eyes.

Just as I’m about to answer, I get interrupted.

“Althea is such a pretty name,” Cassian squeals.

“Yes we know, now get out” Azriel sighs exasperatedly.

They start protesting but I cut them off, “Either get out or bring me some cake,”.

As they walk out Cassian mutters under his breath, “Demon,”

“I heard that!”

a/n hope you liked this anon! dad!az just holds a special place in my heart 🫶🏻

[raplinesmoon]

Breaking The Ice (KNJ x F!Reader) - teaser

pairing: hockeyplayer!namjoon x f. reader

genre/au: ice hockey au, college au, roommates au / smut, fluff, slow burn

rating: explicit/18+

summary: after last season, namjoon knows he can’t afford anymore mishaps. when you show up on namjoon’s doorstep looking to share his apartment, he thinks it couldn’t be more perfect. medical school has you even busier than he is, but what happens when what used to be the perfect arrangement turns into a bigger distraction than either of you bargained for?

word count: 911 for this teaser

warnings: clumsy Joon, injuries, lots of swearing, Joon gets a boner, OC is pretty and way too nice

a/n: *taps mic* is this thing on? happy Joon day! (i hope i made the deadline). I remembered I had this sitting on the bench (get it lol) as a scene from my wip for the 🏒on ice: for the boys collab that was announced a long time ago! I decided to spruce up this little scene and publish it, even though the final fic is nowhere near complete. This can probably even be read as a standalone (a cute moment between roomies)! I hope you enjoy this piece and happy bday again to Joonie! credits for the banner go to @joheunsaram!

You okay, Namjoon-ah?

Namjoon wants to deck Kim Seokjin and his stupid pretty boy smile into the boards just for asking, when that motherfucker knows he’s at fault for Namjoon’s current state. He feels a painful twinge in his side, sucking in a sharp breath. Practice had barely ended before Namjoon was hobbling out of the arena, the rough-housing that normally accompanied Bangtan’s practice going a little too far today.

When he sees the steps of his building come into view, he nearly wants to sob with relief. Cursing, he stumbles up them, skipping two at a time in the hopes that it’ll get him up and able to faceplant into the couch faster. Knowing his luck though, he’d probably eat his words and end up with his face straight into the ugly grey shag carpet instead.

As he limps down the hallway, he’s struck by dueling aromas – the earthy, nutty mellowness of freshly brewed coffee, and the warm, spicy cinnamon scent of cinnamon. Both coming from his door, propped open slightly, where he can hear the faint lilt of classical music escape. 

Anatomy must have been whooping your ass again.

Namjoon takes special care to slip inside quietly, wincing when he puts weight on his knee. He glances down to see that it’s swelled to an alarming size. Fucking Seokjin.

He knew he should have probably gotten it checked out by the team medic. Yoongi’s nagging is already echoing in the back of his mind, reminding Namjoon that if he wanted to be clumsy, he had to stay on top of his injuries. For the sake of his team.

But somehow getting his limbs checked by a crusty old guy who was past the retirement age didn’t seem nearly as exciting when there was you. 

You who always wore the comfiest sweats, ones he was half-tempted to steal from your closet. You and your penchant for always looking for a pen, when you always had one tucked behind your ear or in your hoodie pocket. You and your stress baking, winning the adoration of his teammates (Stupid Seokjin and his flirting), but most of all him. Your damn cinammon rolls were worth every extra minute he had to spend in the weight room keeping them off.

“Hey Joon, I was just finishing up the cinnamon rolls, they’re on the cooling rack— what happened?” Your smile falls when you take him in, knee as red as his jersey, and a nasty cut under his eyebrow, skin turning purplish underneath.

Namjoon thinks he might pass out, either from the pain or from the way your face falls in disappointment, and the plush cushions of the couch seem like a great place to bury his head into right now.

He’s given a few quiet moments to stew before he feels a soft tap on his shoulder. Lifting his head up, he swears when your face nearly collides with his, noses bumping with such force that you have to take a step back, rubbing gingerly at the bridge.

Great fucking impression you’re making on your pretty roommate, Namjoon. She’s totally into getting clocked in the face. The little devil on his shoulder must be having a ball right now.

“Fuck, ___, I’m so sorry, fuck–”

“It’s okay, Joon, I know you didn’t mean to. But we only have the resources for one injured party in this apartment, yeah?”

Namjoon feels his face heat, not sure if he’s just embarrassed or you’re too close close to him. His eyes nearly bulge out of his head when you pick up his knee, studying it with a furrow in your brow.

What a day to decide to wear grey sweatpants. His dick-print was so happy with him right now, and he silently prays that your eyes remain downwards.

“We need to wrap this up. Give me a sec and I’ll help you.” 

Is he dreaming, or does your face look a little flushed? If you notice his boner, he’s happy you don’t say anything, humming softly s you disappear into the hallway, rummaging around in the closet for the first-aid kit.

You re-appear moments later, a roll full of medical tape in your hand, and you’re back to prodding at his knee again. Namjoon sinks into the couch, body relaxing at your gentle touch.

Only to jolt a few seconds later when he feels something cold hit his aching joints, nearly whacking you a second time. God, he had to be more careful.

“Shhh,” you put a finger to his lips, and Namjoon’s breath catches in his throat. “Gotta put some ice on it.”

“You should really increase your fees, doc. I’m pretty sure at-home care isn’t included in the job description.”

Is he flirting? Fuck, okay he’s flirting. He’s doing this.

“Maybe I like knowing I’ll always have a patient who keeps me in business,” you wink, fingers lingering longer than necessary on his knee when you finish wrapping it. Your hands move next to the cut underneath his brow.

“Now what are we gonna do with you?”

Oh fuck, abort, abort mission! Namjoon shoots straight up, grimacing at your shocked gasp.

“YouknowIjustrememberedIhaveanassignmentdueatmidnighttoday! I should really go work on that!”

You say nothing as he limps into his room, smiling widely at him the whole time. Namjoon collapses on his bed, groaning into the pillows.

Maybe getting banged up wasn’t so bad after all. Not when he always had you around to patch him up.

a/n pt. 2: As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3

[sparkle-fiend]

Steve loves Valentine’s Day.

It’s a holiday celebrating love and romance; the whole point is to shower someone with affection (and hopefully get laid at the end of the night). What’s not to like about that?

With girls, Valentine’s was easy. Big box of chocolates, a dozen red roses, dinner at a fancy restaurant (and maybe a little jewelry or something - depending on how much he likes her). A sweet card, for sure.

Now that he’s dating Eddie, Valentine’s Day presents more of a… challenge. 

“Ugh, what am I gonna do Rob? We walked through the greeting card aisle at Melvald’s and he pretended to puke. He doesn’t want flowers or chocolate or anything.”

He knows he’s whining. He’s slumped dramatically in the single office chair in the Family Video breakroom, spinning slowly (like a pathetic little rotisserie chicken, according to Robin). He’s probably got about five more minutes before Robin snaps.

“Why do you have to do anything? You know Valentine’s Day isn’t even a real holiday – it’s just an excuse to get people to spend money on crap they don’t need…”

“Oh my god, stop! You sound just like Eddie. Valentine's isn't about spending money, it's about... showing people that you love them. Making them feel happy and appreciated and special. It’s about celebrating love.”

Robin tilts her head and her face goes a little soft, the way it does when he says something she wasn't expecting (but in a good way, not like when he says something so dumb that her body collapses and she says he's obliterated her will to live). 

"That’s actually surprisingly sweet Steve. Okay….” she sighs and looks up at the ceiling as she thinks. “Maybe... you could try making something? He liked those cookies you baked for movie night." 

“Those cookies were terrible.” Practically inedible. Eddie was the only person that ate more than one. (Which was either a true declaration of love in and of itself, or proof that Eddie will eat literally anything when he's stoned.) 

"I don't know, Eddie is pretty easy to please. You could give him like... a cool rock, and he would probably love it." 

Steve sits upright so fast he nearly overturns the chair. "Robin, you're a genius!!" 

She blinks at him. "Clearly. But also, why exactly?" 

Eddie is like a crow. He's forever picking up little odds and ends - cool rocks, stickers, shiny bits of paper. At Christmas, he collected the bows off of everyone's presents. Sometimes, he incorporates the stuff he finds into little props and models for his D&D games, but other times he just keeps it. He's got a whole drawer devoted to his little 'hoard', as he calls it. 

Steve explains all this to Robin, who just shakes her head in bemusement. "He is so weird," she says fondly. 

"Yeah," Steve agrees. He would have recoiled from that oddity in high school - would have been worried what other people would think. Scared they would judge him for associating with someone like that. 

He doesn’t give a shit, these days. He sees the way Eddie lights up with happiness at the smallest things, so full of excitement and passion, and it just makes him smile. He feels grateful that he gets to bask in that reflected joy, like a flower soaking up the sun.

Valentines is two weeks away, which gives Steve plenty of time to collect a bounty of little treasures. He hits the pawn shop, the thrift store - he even drives out to the weird antique shop about an hour out of town, which looks like a normal house on the outside and is crammed to the rafters with knick-knacks and bric-a-brac when you walk inside. 

He also trawls the quarry, the lake, and the woods behind his house. It's tough, because usually Eddie's little treasures just look like trash to Steve. He's not a very creative person himself, but he tries hard to see the world the way his boyfriend would. 

If that means Steve finds himself debating for over half an hour on which rock is more appealing, well – it will all be worth it in the end.

———

Steve stays over at Eddie's, the night before Valentines. (At this point, he spends more time at the Munson's house than he does at his own.) 

He wakes up early, slipping out of bed with slow, careful movements. As usual, Eddie rolls over with a faint grumble, bundling himself into a burrito of blankets to compensate for the void of warmth left by Steve's absence. 

He moves down the hall, avoiding each creaky board like it's a booby trap in the Temple of Doom, until he reaches the kitchen - which is where Steve breaks routine. He sneaks out the back door and races across the driveway in his boxers, hopping and cursing as the frigid gravel stings his bare feet. 

His carefully cultivated stash of gifts is in the glove compartment of the BMW. He already has a plan for which one will be first, so he grabs it and closes the door (slowly, slowly - the sound of Steve moving around the house is familiar, but a car door slamming in the driveway at this time of morning would wake Eddie for sure). 

The first gift is a blue jay feather he found in the woods, perfect and clean with vivid blue and black stripes. He tucks it carefully under the edge of the ash tray that sits on the porch railing, before slipping back inside to start breakfast.

Thirty minutes later Eddie appears, drawn by the warm smell of coffee and the sound of bacon popping in the pan. 

He drapes himself over Steve's back and murmurs, "G'mornin," sleepily into the shell of his ear, the way he does every morning after Steve spends the night. This time, Steve balances his spatula on the edge of the pan and turns so that he can wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. 

He presses a cheerful kiss to the corner of Eddie's mouth and says, "Happy Valentine’s Day." 

Eddie groans dramatically and throws his head back, the rest of his bodyweight following. If Steve didn't have a firm grip around his waist, he would have toppled over backward; the move turns into an awkward backbend instead. 

"Stevie please, it's too early for that crap. Wait until I've had my coffee at least." 

Steve grins. He releases his hold just long enough for Eddie to yelp and scrabble for balance before catching him and pulling him close again. 

"Jesus Christ," Eddie gasps. 

"Careful," Steve says with a smug grin, laughing when Eddie shoves him in the chest and pulls away.

They eat breakfast together, and then Steve follows Eddie outside for his morning cigarette. 

"Holy shit, look at this!" Eddie turns to Steve with the blue jay feather pinched between his fingers, grinning with delight. He hasn't brushed his hair yet and he's got a smear of bacon grease on his cheek, but he's so beautiful in that moment - so full of joy it shines out of him, like a lighthouse.

Just because he found a feather. Steve smiles back, helplessly besotted. "Pretty cool." 

Eddie twirls the feather between his fingers before tucking it behind his ear. “That’s a sign that today is gonna be a good day.”

Steve presses his mouth to the edge of his coffee cup to hide his expression. “Yeah, I think so too.”

———

Eddie rolls into the Family Video parking lot around 2 in the afternoon to visit before his band practice. He strolls inside and leans against the counter, plonking a silver wrapped Hershey kiss down in front of Steve. 

“Kiss for a kiss?” he says, with a smarmy grin. Steve rolls his eyes, but he checks to make sure they’re alone in the store before swooping forward for a quick peck on the lips.

“I got you something too,” he says.

“Oh?” Eddie raises one eyebrow, managing to look both curious and skeptical. “Please tell me it’s not a cheesy greeting card.”

Steve flips him the bird before reaching into his pocket. He pulls the keychain out and lets it dangle from one finger in front of Eddie’s face.

His boyfriend’s immediate reaction is to wrinkle his nose in disgust. The keychain is a garish red plastic heart, definitely the antithesis of Eddie’s usual metalhead vibe.

But it’s also sparkly. 

Steve’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk as Eddie takes the keychain from him, reluctantly admiring the way light sparks off the flakes of holographic glitter embedded in the plastic. The cheap little thing shimmers like a ruby in the afternoon sun.

“Some kid dropped it. They never came back, so it’s yours if you want it.” (That’s technically true, although Steve has been holding on to it for nearly a month now, waiting for today.)

“Oh, well then.” Eddie stuffs the keychain into his pocket. “Finders keepers, losers weepers!” He sticks his tongue out, eyes wide and exaggerated – then leans across the counter and licks Steve’s nose.

“Gross!” Steve sputters with laughter. He scrubs at his face and looks up just in time to see Eddie wave jauntily on his way out the door, a second Hershey kiss left sitting on the counter in his wake.

———

After Steve's shift is over, he runs home for a quick shower and a change of clothes before meeting Eddie at the diner. 

He did his best to talk his boyfriend into going on a proper date, but the most he could get Eddie to agree to was milkshakes and a movie (my choice Stevie, not some lame romance).

Steve walks into the diner and spots Eddie at the back booth. He saunters over and sets the third present onto the sticky Formica table with a click. It's a small golden gear, nearly paper-thin. 

"Check it out. Found this in the parking lot." 

(That's a lie. Steve carefully picked apart a broken old watch from the thrift shop in order to extract a handful of the little gears.)

"Hey, cool! I bet I could use this in the model I'm working on." Eddie pulls the pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and drops the gear inside for safe keeping. 

"What's the model for?" Steve asks.

Eddie launches into an animated explanation of the character he's creating for a new Hellfire campaign - a sun-worshiping priest that intends to trick the party into becoming a ritual sacrifice. 

"... and that gear thing would look pretty good on the top of his staff." 

Steve doesn't understand much of what Eddie's saying, but he loves the way his boyfriend talks with his whole body, moving his hands and shoulders and head along with the words. He rests his chin in his hand and lets Eddie ramble until the milkshakes arrive, smiling like a dope the whole time.

Eddie has no concept of time, so Steve is in charge of making sure they finish their milkshakes and leave the diner in time to make it to the movie. As Eddie slides into the passenger seat of the BMW, he says, “Hey – you think we have enough time to stop by the Circle K?”

Steve turns in his seat as he reverses out of the parking lot. "What do you need at the Circle K?" 

"Snacks! You can't go to a movie without provisions Stevie! And don't say we can buy some at the concessions stand, because the prices they charge are ridiculous."

“Well if we stop now, we’ll be late – but I’ve got some Milk Duds and trail mix…” Steve doesn’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. Eddie pops open the glove compartment in his search for snacks, revealing Steve’s little stash of gifts. 

Eddie frowns in confusion. “What the hell?” He rifles through the pile as Steve groans.

“Shit. You weren’t supposed to see those yet.”

“What��is all this?” Eddie picks up a ring, turning it over in his hands. It's a bulky silver biker ring, like the ones Eddie wears every day - only this one is shaped like a bat with tiny ruby eyes. Steve is particularly proud of that one, discovered in a box of assorted rings at the pawn shop.

Steve gnaws at his lip and runs a hand through his hair, ruining all his careful styling. "I know you hate Valentines, but I wanted to do something. Just… to show you how much I love you. So instead of the cards and flowers and stuff, I tried to find little things you might actually like. For your, you know… your 'dragon hoard' or whatever you call it."

"So the keychain and the gear..."

"And the feather."

Eddie's eyebrow twitches. He stares at the contents of the glove compartment; at the water smoothed stone from the lake and the multicolored twist of ribbon, the vivid green marble and the tiny mother of pearl locket. He looks down at the ring still clutched in his hand, and blinks rapidly. 

Steve glances nervously between Eddie and the road, hands tight on the steering wheel. He's disappointed that the surprise has been ruined, but more concerned about Eddie's reaction. He'd expected the other boy to laugh or tease him, not this... whatever this is. 

Finally, Eddie clears his throat roughly and speaks. "Actually, can we just head back to my place? I've got something I wanna show you, and I don't think I can wait through the movie." 

“Uh… sure.”

Steve's brain is buzzing as he takes a left instead of a right at the intersection. He's worked himself into a bit of a panic by the time they pull into the Munson's driveway. "Eddie, I..." 

Eddie interrupts him, practically throwing himself across the center console as he drags Steve into a fierce kiss. By the time Eddie lets him go, Steve is panting. "Wha...?" 

"Wait here," Eddie says with a wild grin. He presses Steve back into the seat for emphasis. "Don't move." 

He takes the steps up the porch two at a time and fumbles with his key to get inside as Steve watches in a daze. He has no idea what's going on. 

After a few minutes, Eddie returns to the door. He's pulled on a t-shirt with a faux tuxedo printed on the front, and he's standing straight backed in the doorway with a towel over his arm, like some kind of maître d’. He waves grandly toward Steve, beckoning him toward the house. 

Steve snorts with laughter as he climbs out of the BMW. “What are you doing?” 

"This way sir," Eddie replies in a terrible attempt at a posh English accent. Steve shakes his head, thoroughly bewildered and increasingly amused. 

He walks past Eddie through the doorway and freezes in surprise.

The living room has been transformed. Eddie set up the gaming table in the middle of the room – set with a crisp white tablecloth, the Munson’s best dishes, and a vase full of red roses sitting in the center of the table, flanked by two candles. More candles twinkle softly from the coffee table, the end tables - even on top of the tv. 

"Eddie..." Steve whispers in awe. "What is this?" 

"Well, ah... I kind of jumped the gun a little. It’s supposed to be a candlelight dinner. If we'd gone to the movie, Wayne would have had time to get all the food set up. But it won’t take long, I already cooked everything. Just gotta heat it up."

Steve’s vision goes watery, smearing the candlelight into one big blur as tears fill his eyes. He blinks hard to clear them. “I thought you hated all this stuff.”

Eddie shrugs and rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Well, yeah I do. But you love it. So I wanted to surprise you.”

Steve grips his boyfriend by the front of his ridiculous t-shirt and pulls him into a bone-cracking hug, before pulling back just far enough to kiss the breath from him. 

In a pause between kisses, Steve rests his forehead against Eddie’s and laughs a little breathlessly. “What made you change your mind about the movie?”

Eddie bites his lips, already swollen from kisses. Steve can’t tear his eyes away.

“I don’t know. When I saw all that stuff you collected for me…” he clears his throat, staring at Steve with wide dark eyes. “I’m… I know I’m weird. I’ve known that my whole life. I never thought I would find anyone that would tolerate me, let alone… celebrate me like that.”

He kisses Steve again, sweet and soft. “I couldn’t sit and wait for two hours after that. I had to get you home and show you how much I love you.”

“I love you too.” Steve smiles against Eddie’s mouth. “You know… I’m not really hungry yet.”

“Oh yeah?”

Steve trails his hands down Eddie’s chest, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and tugging. “Mm-hmm. I think we need to work up an appetite first.”

Eddie laughs in delight. “Sounds like a good idea. You know how much I like dessert before dinner.”

A happy Valentine’s Day indeed.

[oinkinpigprince]

My friends(hostages) and I (tied them down and forced them to) watched the Texas chainsaw massacre one and two(I held them at gun point and kept wiggling happily) and I had silly little thoughts about my favorite little spleens :33(I love them so much it physically hurts)

I bet playing hide and seek w/ them would be a special kind of fun! Ik I have a lot of request for smiling friends and I pinky promise to get them done rlly soon this is just a little self indulgence

Hide and seek with the sawyer family!!!!!! Yeah!!!

Bubba

They are so bad at it, it hurts. Listen, they are so big and bulky and too excited to play, they can’t hide anywhere and they aren’t that creative.

Cabinets are a no go, under the bed is laughable, I think they’d be the type to try and hide under a bunch of stuffies

They’re most likely to be hiding in closets and maybe the bathroom, probably behind the couch is a good place to look

Although you can easily find them cause if he sees or hears you getting closer they might start to giggle, it’s just so much fun!!!!

But when you do find them, the chase is fucking on. They may not look it but they are quick, bubba just has a hard time rounding corners quickly so that’s where they have trouble :((

When you do finally tag them, they’ll squeal and grab you, spinning you around. THAT WAS SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!!! You two may get told off but it’s worth it

Bubba finding you is a pretty similar story. They are very observant but they’re still pretty giggly. Also with their loud ass stomps you can hear them coming and quickly change spots

When they do find you, oh fuck it’s over, doesn’t even think just quickly grabs you and hugs you tight. THEY WON!! It’s a lot of fun but low key scary when you can hear their foot steps approaching.

Nubbins

Loudest person you’ve ever met, how hard could it be? Once that game starts and you finish counting that boy is GONE

Although nubbins is pretty tall at a generous 6’2 he is skinny and loves small spaces so he quickly finds the smallish space he can cram himself in

A space you’d never think of looking and he is silent, it’s like he disappeared off the face of the fucking earth. He’s happy too, he doesn’t get bored which is surprising.

Nubbins will just lay there happily day dreaming til someone else unintentionally finds him and he cusses them out. Then you find him

Nubbins doesn’t care for the chase as much as the hiding so you easily tag him, he just can’t wait to find you :o))))))

You can also hear nubbins, but his is more, taunting. He likes to pretend he’s hunting you, and oh boy, it feels like he’s threatening you. You can hear him from the hall “heeeeeere kitty kitty k-kitty kitty kitty, where are you?” Your blood runs cold

Sitting in your hiding space steadying your breathing praying he doesn’t find you, there no hell you’d be able to out run a man who spends all day racing cars to scrap dead animal corpses off hot pavement!

When it goes quiet and you think you’re in the clear. You peak out and don’t see anything, so you swallow your fear and quickly stalk out to go and change hiding spaces. Then BAM!! He got you! Ha! You should see your space

He howls as you scream curling his body around yours, he eats up your terrified screams. He just hugs you tight and lays on the ground as you squirm trying to get away, he’ll pepper the side of your face with kisses as he pinches your cheeks. You’re so cute when you’re scared!

Choptop

Oh Robby rob, oh dear Robert bobert, you asked him to play hide and seek, for fun! What’s the harm that could happen! You know this man a little eccentric, but you had zero clue what you got yourself into. Playing hide and seek, with a VIETNAM war vet

He agrees, excited as fuck. Never have you seen him agree so quickly to something. Before you finish saying the words he’s making you count to ten.

First round goes fine, it’s completely normal and not weird. He hit under a bed and then chased you around the house when he found you. Fun!

Next round, you looked around giddily, looking where trying to find him. You searched the whole house trying to find that man for 20 minutes. That’s when you stood in the living room and felt, something went drip onto your forehead. You looked up, HE WAS ON THE FUCKING CEILING AND HE SPAT ON YOU!!!

Laughed as you tried to tag him, taunting you and spat on you some more until you got a step stool and he just dropped, landed on all fours and scrambled away faster than god

You had to have nubbins AND bubba help you catch him. That man was unstoppable. He only relented after a while cause he wanted to have his turn seeking.

Waiting patiently for footsteps and you heard none. You figured maybe he was at the other side of the house. That’s when you glanced slightly and saw, a glimpse of a smiling man in your peripheral. Two inches away from your face.

Screaming you dashed for the exit with him hot on your trail. Chop was toying with you the entire time. Laughing, he was always just behind you. He could have caught you easily but just wanted to see you run from him

Have you seen where he was chasing stretch and he just leaped onto the bridge and climbed on. Yeah he did that to you, that man was not messing around

As soon as it started it ended with you cornered and panting, he didn’t even break a sweat. He just gently pats your face and says “got ya!” Before shouting ‘nam worl’ loudly and cheering.

He’s the whole reason I made these head canons, I don’t want to play hide and seek w/ him

Drayton

The biggest fucking party pooper. Every time you ask he always says “I’m too old for that kiddy shit.” Or “are ya trying to kill me? I ain’t spending my afternoon chasing you around”

His favorite is “how about I go hide in the living room with the tv and you go find a damn to give me.” Dick >:((((

If in the one is a TRILLION chance he says fine, to shut you up it’s a pretty normal game to be honest

He isn’t one for running around so he doesn’t put much of a fight. Just sorta “oh ya got me! Happy now?” Yeah, you are, now it’s his turn

Is a really good seeker he just doesn’t like to run. If you try and make him chase you he’ll just give up cursing “I have other shit to do than play CHILDRENS game” like down chill out

Okay listen, deep down he does find it, a LITTLE fun and likes seeing you and his brothers play but don’t play with him. He doesn’t have time for that shit 😭😭💅💅

[andromeda-nova-writing]

Made with Love

Fem!ReaderWords:2200

Summary: The Sweater Curse. A superstition in knitting about a relationship ending due to reevaluating a relationship due to the hard work in making a sweater. It was something Thoma didn't put too much thought into. At least he didn't before.

AN: This is actually really fluffy fic. Don't let the summary make you think it's angst. I learned knitting for this. It's hard. Also happy early birthday @milkstore! All my Thoma fics are basically for you but this one is even more so. 🩵🩵🩵

It was two months until Thoma’s first anniversary with Y/N. There were so many times that she had been cold around him to the point of borrowing his jacket or sweater. Y/N borrowing a sweater he had made for himself was the catalyst for the two of them getting together. Which means he knew exactly what would make a perfect gift.

He had spent the last month keeping track of what colors Y/N wore the most and the style of her clothing. Using what he had gained he had gone to pick up all the yarn he needed and he couldn’t be more excited to begin the project.

He sat outside in the garden of the Kamisato Estate, his project bag filled with yarn at his side, knitting needles in hand. The cast-on felt easy to him, as he had done it countless times. With a needle in his right hand, he wrapped the yarn around his thumb before sending the needle underneath the yarn creating a loop. 

He had taken measurements off of a sweater that Y/N would wear regularly. He had to be a bit sneaky to get it and he also got caught but it was worth it. He had already done a gauge swatch of the yarn earlier to figure out how many stitches he needed in order to make the body of the sweater. Thoma was so determined to get this right that he remembered to do the gauge swatch!

The last of summer’s warmth wrapped around him as he worked into the stitches letting himself get lost in the project. He had noticed the one sweater of his that Y/N stole the most was built with only knit stitches which made his work easier. No pattern to work about and every row would be the same. It would be easy to build it up fast and he could let himself get lost in the project.

But not too lost. He still had a date to go on later.

-

“Why don’t we just go to the fabric store and find a new button to fix up your bag?” Thoma offered getting up off the floor after looking for the lost button from Y/N’s bag.

“We don’t have to do that. I’ll just switch bags at home. I think I have a spare there anyway.” She spoke as she leaned against the wall of the estate. “Let’s just go already. I think we should still go to Ritou instead of Inazuma City anyway. It's been a while since we've gone there.”

“We were there last week together.”

“I know. I just found myself enjoying Ritou more recently.”

It wasn’t something to overthink. Just a change in date location. It was good nothing was set in stone.

“We could go for a walk on the beach there. Could be fun to collect seashells.”

“Okay. Then that's what we will do.” it was a bit different than what Y/N would normally suggest but it's not like what she suggested was a bad idea. Plus they could still go out to eat after. All he really wanted was to spend time together anyway.

-

Thoma had been working on the sweater for at least two weeks now. Progress was going well. He was working on it faster than he thought he would. He had even finished two whole balls of yarn. He sat inside the common area of the estate near a window, listening to the rain.

“How’s the sweater going?” Ayaka asked after walking up to him. “You said that’s for Y/N right?”

“It is. Does it look good?” Thoma asked pausing the row he was working on to hold up the sweater for Ayaka to see.

“It’s very pretty. I see her wearing that color all the time.” She examined the fabric. “Oh! That looks a lot like the sweater she borrows from you.”

“That’s the point.” He went back to working on the sweater as he talked. “It’s for our anniversary. I just wanted to make something I knew she would like and use.”

“Awww. That’s really sweet of you. Not to pry but I thought you two had a date today.”

“Raincheck. It’s fine though. It's not the best weather for a date anyway. There’s always next week anyway.” He shrugged it off.

“That’s true. I guess this makes it a bad time to ask to learn then.”

Thoma thought about it for a second. “Well, I could use teaching you as a way for me to start the back panel. Let me go grab some things. I’ll be right back.”

-

It had been a month of working on the sweater. The front panel had been completed and the back panel was a little over halfway done. He was supposed to be starting the sleeves already. He didn’t slow down from taking time to try to teach Ayaka. He actually got a lot done while showing her what to do.

He was stressed out. Dates were canceled, cut short, or plans were completely thrown out into something different. Normally this wouldn’t bother him too badly. People get busy and that’s okay. This was different though.

There had been one day last week when he had run into her on a trip to Inazuma City. It was like she was trying to avoid him once he had yelled out her name. Perhaps she was already trying to avoid him. It wasn’t like he had done anything wrong. He had done nothing but treat her with the love and respect that she deserved.

Was it wrong to question her when she had done the same? Had. That's the word he kept getting stuck on as of late. He never even got an explanation of why she was so busy as of late.

Maybe that’s what made him so concerned. It didn’t help she kept turning down any trips to go to any fabric stores together. He could have sworn he saw her leave one the other day. She left with Itto of all people. It didn’t make sense to him. They didn’t talk or hang out before from what he knew.

Were they friends and he just didn’t know? But she would have told him. She would always happily tell him of the things she did with her friends. Thoma really didn’t want to think the worst. Y/N was his girlfriend for almost a year. Someone who he trusted so much. To think that she would betray him in such a way felt too harsh.

Thoma stopped his stitching and looked down at the back panel of this sweater he had been working on. Oh no. Had he caused this?

When he was first learning knitting he was told how it was a bad idea to make a sweater for your partner. The sweater curse is what it was called. A superstition he thought could be easily avoided by waiting for the right person and knowing he was secure in the relationship. Thoma wasn’t one to believe in curses of the paranormal or rational kind.

But this was a rational curse. Maybe he should have taken it more seriously. Were there signs she wanted the relationship that he hadn’t noticed? If there was he hadn’t noticed. 

“Is everything alright?” Ayato asked the question bringing him out of his internal worries.

“I’m not too sure.”

-

This was wrong. So many levels of wrong. Why did he take his lord’s offer to track his own girlfriend down with the Shuumatsuban? This had to be an invasion of her privacy and trust.  He should just walk away before anyone notices that he is here. 

“Yo! My bro! What are you doing here?” Itto had greeted him from the entrance to the fabric shop. He had always been friendly despite the imposing figure he had. Too much care for others to purposefully cause any pain. Yet Thoma was here not knowing if his warm greeting was full of lies.

“I just came to pick something up.” It wasn’t a complete lie. He was missing a few things to finish up some projects that were just lying around. Now it would be weird if he left right away.

“We should totally go get some food first. When was the last time we had a meal together? My treat!” Itto offered placing a hand on Thoma’s back trying to lead him away from the fabric shop.

Thoma moved back away. “I need to get this done now. I have a bit of a list of things to get done today. Maybe next time.”

“Why don’t you tell me what you need and I’ll grab it for you. That would knock your list down so fast.” Itto kept trying to stand in Thoma’s way.

“I appreciate the help but I got it.”

“You know this store is kind of the worst. I think there’s a better one in Ritou. Why don’t I show you it?” Itto looked as if he was thinking off the top of his head just to keep Thoma out of the store.

Thoma forced a smile trying to stay calm but Itto’s behavior only made him more worried about what was going on. “Another day. I need to go in now.” He dogged past the oni trying to stay in his way making it into the fabric shop.

Itto followed behind with worry on his face. He tried so hard to keep Thoma out. He had one job!

Inside the shop towards the back, Y/N was sitting in the back next to Itto's Granny. She had a cloth in her hand and was moving a needle back and forth. “You know I'm still worried he won't like it.”

“With how much you improved you shouldn't doubt your skills now. I bet he'll love it just cause it's from you.” She comforted Y/N. “It's going to be a wonderful anniversary present.”

Thoma’s face went red. He shouldn't have walked in here. He started walking backwards hoping not to be noticed by either of them. He walked back into a standing filled with different buttons and threads knocking it down and falling with it as well.

The two of them stood up quickly. Itto was already getting ready to help Thoma up. Y/N looked down, frowning that her boyfriend, who normally she would have been happy to see, was in the same store as her. 

“I'm sorry. I did try.” Itto apologized as Thoma stood on his feet.

“You did your best. Let's give them some space.” His granny spoke before going outside with Itto. The shop owner shook their head before getting up to leave as well.

“You were supposed to be at the estate right now. What are you doing here?” Y/N asked before placing the quilt down on the table carefully.

“I just uh,” he bent down real quick, grabbing a button. “Needed this. I'm off to go pay for it now.”

A frown filled Y/N’s face. 

“I'm sorry. I just really got worried because you were acting differently. I thought I knitted myself into a curse and I got worried you didn't want to be with me and were starting to pull away.” He rambled. “I didn't want to believe it so I had to figure out what was going on.”

Y/N walked straight up to him and gave him a kiss shutting up his rambles. “You're cute you know that?”

His face was already red with embarrassment but felt even hotter now. “I think you've told me that.”

“I was trying to surprise you by learning how to make a quilt for you for our anniversary. You could have told me you felt neglected. I'm sorry. I never wanted to do that.” Y/N apologized as she pulled him into a hug.

“I should be the one apologizing. You were just trying to do a nice thing for me and I was thinking that you were just over m-” another kiss to shut him up. He pulled back with a smile attached to his face. “It's hard to speak when you keep doing that.”

“That's why I keep doing it. I must have been neglecting you if you keep rambling like this. If I let you go on any longer you might just tell me what you were knitting. I want it to be a surprise.”

Thoma let out a laugh. “Okay. That's understandable but I feel bad. I ruined your gift.”

“You have no clue how much I wanted to tell you. There are only so many times I can hear Itto tell me it's cool or his Granny telling me it's pretty. The compliments aren't enough unless it's from you.”

It was her turn to be shut up with a kiss. It quickly turned to Thoma peppering her face with kisses. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

Y/N laughed with each kiss tickling her face. “I love you too. You wouldn't be here if you didn't. Love makes you people do dumb things.”

Thoma thought for a second thinking about the offer Ayato gave him just to help figure out what was going on. He would tell her a little later. “Yes, it does.”

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Pregnant Cod Men

Requested: Kinda? I did a poll if I should do this or not and the answer was yeah. I’m counting it as half a request.

Warnings: Pregnancy (duh), Pre-eclampsia (Price’s), pregnancy anxiety (König’s)

Price

Good. Fucking. Luck. Price is someone who has a very tough time with the whole pregnancy thing and unlike Simon, there is no point in his pregnancy that you won’t be fighting with him to sit down and just watch the telly for a bit. It’s also made worse by the fact that he has pre-eclampsia and is told that, in no uncertain terms, is he to be exterting or stressing himself under any circumstances. And he looks at that like a challenge, constantly waddling to his office to try and get some work done. It gets to the point that you have to lock his paperwork away only to come home with his favorite biscuits just to see him digging the papers out from where you hid them, brown furrowed said he grumbles to himself about muppets. At this point you might just have to chain him to the bed, for his own sake.

Gaz

HNGGGGG!!! I’m telling you right now that Gaz is the fucking cutest when he’s pregnant. He’s constantly carrying around the weirdest little supplies like one of those belly bands that plays music. Says he needs to teach the kid what proper music is before they come out. And he spends weeks agonizing over what color to paint the nursery, torn between two very similar shades of light purple that leave you confused on what the difference even is. Insists on driving around to TEN different toy stores to find the perfect plushie that is equal parts soft and durable. Will start tearing up when he finds what he thinks is the best one, holding it close to his chest as he looks at you and asks if he can buy 5 of them because he’s afraid that just one will get lonely until the baby gets here. You don’t have the heart to tell him no when he’s looking at you like that so you do, indeed, walk out of the store with 5 of the exact same plushie and a very happy crying Gaz.

Ghost

For the first two trimesters Ghost insists that he can still do everything he normally does. Go to the gym, go on missions, stay up for days on end, brew coffee and tea in the same pot then chug the mixture. It’s a fight to get him to actually settle down and sit for any length of time. In fact it’s almost worse then when he wasn’t pregnant, like he feels that he needs to prove he can still do everything that he’s used to doing. But as SOON as that third trimester hits he is lounging around the house in nothing but a loose Diamond Head T-Shirt and his headphones, eating strawberries out of the carton, his feet propped up on the sofa arm and his head nodding along to the beat of whatever he’s listening to. Always palming his belly, never telling you when the baby moves but you can tell by the way his eyes soften just the slightest bit.

Soap

R.I.P. to your sleep because Johnny is one of those pregnant people that gets the most random cravings in the middle of the night and cannot go back to sleep until he’s eaten whatever it is he wants. Will give you the biggest saddest puppy eyes while rubbing his belly. Tells you he can go get it himself but he doesn’t want to go alone. It’s an entirely frustrating experience to lose so much sleep but it’s worth it to hear his excited giggling and watch his proud penguin waddle as he makes his way back to the car with his food. Will try and make you have a bite of whatever concoction he’s come up with. His most frequently returned to craving is marmite spread on biscuits then dipped in coffee, which he insists is the best thing he’s ever had in his life and swears that he’ll keep eating even after the baby is out.

König

König has a rather…nonchalant pregnancy? For the most part. Half the times it seems to you like he’s forgotten that he’s even pregnant. Which is partially true, and it’s so incredibly easy for him to do so because he doesn’t experience any of the usual pregnancy symptoms at all. If anything, he seems to just be more energized and ready to take on the world. He doesn’t even start showing until month 6 and reality doesn’t slap him in the face until month 7 when you both go in for an ultrasound and see that it’s triplets, in which he’s silent for a good minute before asking if it’s possible for you both to trade places. The Doctor has to leave the room due to laughing and you have half a mind to follow her. Probably would have if not the truly panicked look on König’s face as he stares at the ultrasound pictures, calling his mom to ask how big his head was when he was born, looking like he’s gonna cry when he gets his answer. Pregnancy is a mess of anxiety for him for the following months, please be sure to comfort him with many blankets and his favorite comedy movies.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

How would our favor Yan demon brothers be when seeing their lil sheep mc wearing something cute and modest for once when they have their human body back ( minus the sheep parts like her horns and fluffy tail )

Finally Barbatos has given you a more refined version of the potion and now you look like a normal human. Now you can finally get rid of all the immodest outfits they had you wearing because of your fluffy sheepy bits and horns. Finally able to wear the clothes you want to wear you proudly pose. 

“So boys? What d’ya think?”

“I’m happy for you, I’m sure you’ll delight in being taken more seriously.”

Lucifer will miss it 

just a lil’ bit

But nonetheless you are still the human he fell in love with from the beginning

And he’s not at all disappointed when he gets previews of the new (Y/n) calendar

Especially when you are willing to wear a copy of his normal outfit

“Now that you are back to normal would you like to try on this?

“Won’t get as much as those sheepy pics but this works too!” 

Mammon’s still excited 

You’re just so pretty 

He’s definitely getting outfits so expensive he’ll have to work to pay off for a lifetime

But it's worth it to see you walk by wearing what he’s got you

“Y-yeah I bought that for them! Of course, the Great Mammon has such good tastes! Y-you l-look half-descent a-at least.”

“Perfect! Now you really can be Ruri-chan! Properly this time!”

Leviathans elated

He’s been waiting for this day for far too long

He’s ready to recheck all your measurements as he preps the different cosplay he wants you to try

It is hard to style around your horns and wool without making it a part of the outfit

“Now I can properly get the (Y/n) experience!” 

“Good to know. Now I’ll be looking into making you part-cat next.”

Satan’s joking he’s not

He would often imagine what’d you’d be like without the sheepy bits

Of course, it just felt like an over-the-top censor bar 

But who is he to complain

Now you are unobstructed

“Here in the meantime, you can wear this headband and cattail. You’d look just fine.”

“Yay! Now wear this! What! This is going to make your little human butt look the  cutest!”

Asmodeus is not phased at all by the change

In fact, he was ready for it 

Already lining up the outfits in his closet that you could wear

And you are wearing it

Modest or not

After all you are a weak little human compared to the avatar of lust

“I’m ready to see all of you baby! Don’t run!”

“You don’t look like cotton candy now.”

For Beelzebub, Nothing’s changed much 

You’re still weak to him 

Still eating impossibly less than he

All he knows is that you no longer look like the carnival treat

You still look just as cute with food spilled on you

“I’ll help you clean up. It’d be a waste to not lick you this food up.”

*Yawn* “Doesn’t matter to me your just as soft.”

Belphegor feels really pleased

He always liked your more human parts

Especially your skin

He sleeps on wool and cotton all the time 

So he’s happy all of you are just you

Though he’d really prefer it if you didn’t want to wear clothes anyway

“You don’t need this, do you? Or your shorts, right? I just want us both to be comfortable before we nap.”

[luimagines]

HELLO HELLO !!!!!!!! can i request a continuation of the boys non confession angst where in the part 2 they go to their world and have to deal w their feels about not confessing before reader left? ty ty!!!!

Well yes I can! :D

Let's make it worse before it gets any better :)

Masterlist

Part one will correspond to the first half which you can read right here!

Part one will include Sky, Wind and Four.

Content under the cut!

Sky

He's been kicking himself ever since he returned.

The goodbyes between the rest of the group was less than lackluster. No one else had it in them to give long fanciful speeches about their time together or to drag out the moment longer than necessary.

He kinda wished they did though. It would have made the pain of the currently reality a little less real. He would have been able to play it off as a short time thing or get a little more closure.

Sky pulls on the rope to help set up a wall to a new house they're building on the surface. He's had to learn fast about a lot of thing it takes to survive.

Sure the surface is a lot safer than it used to be. The destruction of Demise, the sealing of the darkness, the victory over the monsters made it so there was little left to fear for the rest of his life. But he still needed to eat and there was still the weather to look out for.

Life of Skyloft was a lot easier. He was more than happy to admit that.

But something tells him that it would all be worth it.

There would be people here after him. There would be an entire kingdom and peace and adventure and love.

You love your home and your people and your friends.

It all starts with him.

So he has to make sure he gets it as perfect as physically possible. Sky has never been more afraid of failure than when that thought crosses his mind.

The older ones start to question if he's going to settle down and start a family and be the head of the tender village- but he can't bring himself to think of that kind of future.

Not when he wanted you so badly to be a part of it.

However, that would be rude. To hold onto the idea of you when you were never given a chance to respond to him was a crime onto itself. Sky knows that he's more in love with the idea of you or what you both could have been than with you as a person, even if he loves the memory of you still.

He curses himself for being a hopeless romantic. It would be easier if he could bring himself to move on. To mourn you and the life that would never be.

Zelda and Groose are worried about him. They try to get him to be excited about everything that's been developing around them- and he smiles and laughs and waves them away. He doesn't want to let them know.

But it aches. He knows you would have loved to see it too.

Sky kicks himself once more.

How can you love someone that hasn't come into existence yet? You might as well be dead.

He cuts his finger on the rope and drops the wall.

Sky flinches and goes to pick it up once more. Maybe if he held on tighter-

Wind

Getting back home after everything was strange. It felt like some unforgettable dream. It felt real but also not. He knows that he didn't have that scar before he left through the portal- but he also knows that maybe things would have been a little more different. Right?

His sister and grandma welcomed him with open arms and a homecooked meal. Tetra and the pirates and let him sail for a few week again and the island treated him as if he hadn't gone missing at all.

Then again, he supposes that they are quite used to him disappearing for weeks or months on end at this point.

He knows that the others were real, though. They all left little nick nacks. Either from when they visited prior or given right before he went through the portal. He has a little keep sake from everyone.

Except you.

Did he dream you up? He couldn't have. He wasn't that crazy?

Did he dream all of them up?

Everything goes back to normal a little too easily. When he came from his first adventure, there was no normal for months. Every day was spent keeping close to the house and trying to keep an eye on the sky and his sister at the same time.

Wind finds himself frowning constantly these days.

He can't stop thinking about you. He wants to know if you've found something cool today, or if you've gotten a new scratch. He wants to go exploring again. He wants to hold your hand as you both go through dungeons.

He wants to make you food and try your own. He wants to make bracelets with you again and play in tall enough grass where you both could hide in. He wants to take you out on his boat and show you all the little things his keep discovering in his world.

He misses you.

Even if the others saw him as a little brother, you were his equal. You trusted him to look after you just as much as you were looking after him.

Wind thought that he would have been a better at this. He knew that he would miss everyone, but he was going to be fine. He grew up. He learned from them. He got stronger. Faster. More durable. Everyone gave him something to hold dear to his heart.

Yet... if could choose one person to see again, he would pick you in a heart beat. Hands down. No questions.

He sniffles. He didn't know loving someone could hurt so much. Would it have better or worse if you knew?

It doesn't matter. He blew his one chance to find out.

Did you miss him too?

Four

Four got back to work as if nothing had happened.

After he cried his heart out by the side of the portal, the others went in as well. He's not sure about the order they all went through. He thinks that he was somewhere in the middle.

He was dropped off right outside his home. It was late. Just before dawn.

He opened the door and went right to bed. His pillows was soaked with tears when he woke up- but he felt strangely empty.

Four tried to go back to his usual routine. Word of his arrival was quick to spread and soon the commissions were rolling in faster than he could keep up with. He had to put a hold on them once more so that the customers wouldn't be waiting for long periods of time.

It was therapeutic almost, getting back into his craft. It's mind numbing to an extant. He doesn't have to think much outside of what he needs to do to bend the metal to his will. If he was being honest with himself, these were some of his greatest projects yet.

Somehow though, each project traces back to you.

How you would have reacted to this? Would you have liked this color? you mentioned that this leather was the most comfortable in your hand. Would be proud of this one? Would have used something like this? You weren't a fighter. Would it have been light enough for you to use?

Four slaps himself each tie he catches himself curving a project to fir something that you would have liked or used.

It's not as mind numbing as he would have thought.

He gives his latest project to the customer and receives the other half of his pay. He's wrapped it in a white clothe and tied it with a small red ribbon. It looks like the one you would have had on your bag.

They take it without a second thought- shattering his little flashback.

Four waits until they're out of his shop before he groans loud enough to shake the whole building and promptly slams his forehead against the front desk.

"Tough customer?"

Four winces at the voice but refuses to look up. "...Something like that..."

"Got the job done?" Zelda pokes the top of his head.

"...Yes."

"At what cost?"

Four feels bad about lying to her. He hasn't told her a thing about you. Knowing Zelda, she would pity him. And the last thing he wants is her pity. Even if she is his best friend. "Everything."

"Well that's a bit dramatic, Link." Zelda smile, albeit it's a small one. She's noticed that he's been off and she knows that he's hiding it from her. She can't figure out what went wrong though. Zelda sighs and brushes his hair away from the counter top so that it's draped over his back. "Rupee for your thoughts?"

Four bites his lip. It's been months now but he still can't bring himself to say anything specific. "....I miss them..."

"You were of the same spirit." She says gently. "It was a whole group of heroes who no doubt went through similar things that you did. I'm sure it was the most you've been understood...As much as I try..."

Another wince. He hasn't really thought about the rest of the group all that much. "I know Zelda. I appreciate you. You know I do."

Zelda sighs. "I came to see if you would be willing to have lunch with me."

Four finally lifts his head up, eyes tinged with a red ring around them. Maybe some time with Zelda would do him some good. He needs to get out his own head for once. "...I'd like that Zelda..."

Part 2

[xxsycamore]

a/n: at long last, the end of this slightly different story I did for Napoleon last year. I wanted to write about a more quiet and intimate way of spending his birthday. Contains non-explicit nsft, MDNI. part i - part ii - part iii Happy belated birthday, Napoleon!

iv. insieme finiremo per cercare un posto quieto per nasconderci

The next day Napoleon is up before noon, and there's something laughably selfish about it that MC can't quite put her finger on, but she's not complaining. Napoleon makes up something about the fresh air and the climate messing up with his sleep, but he looks too excited for the day to unfold. Both he and MC are dressed up all in white today, with his linen pant legs rolled up just a little, giving him that boyish look that perfectly compliments his messy hair. His normal cleaning up is already everyone else's day-off look, it's unbelievable that he can get any more casual than that, but voilà.

The walk down the hill and to the beach is scenic, and with just enough obstacles to prevent them from eating all the food they packed before they can even reach their destination. The sun is high up in the sky and it feels almost weird to fall out of rhythm and have breakfast at a time that normally sees everyone leaving the table after their second meal of the day, back in the mansion.

The beach lacks the way-kinder-on-the-feet fine golden sand but it's not all rough stones either - a big chunk of it is taken by a wide rock, the surface smoothened by centuries worth of high tides. The vibrant blue of the sea is even more breathtaking when contrasted with the warm gray of the stone.

Napoleon and MC lay out their little picnic there, declaring themselves a pair of lizards. They still open the parasol, of course, using its modest shade in a semi-lying position that reminds of breakfast in bed. Olive paste spread over rye bread, peppers stuffed with ricotta, figs, white grapes, by the time they're all gone Napoleon talks about being sleepy again, and MC finds it hard not to relate, especially when he offers his chest like so. It turns out to be a passing drowsiness, a gap of time they fill with more chatter before the seawater becomes too enticing with its promise of cooling them off. With a pile of white clothes left behind, Napoleon takes in the clear waters that allow him to see the seafloor and a flame is lit in his eyes - the next second he's diving down from the rock, leaving MC to shout his name in betrayal as she lags behind due to properly folding her dress.

Brushing aside wet strands that stick to his forehead, Napoleon watches her make her way down slippery rocks, her two-piece bikini out of this world but simultaneously a sight he feels like he's seen countless times before. Because that's just how easily she fits right in, in his life. By the time she swims to his embrace he's reconsidered going underwater to pull on her leg, he must kiss her right now. And so he does. And so they're done pretending they weren't waiting for this the entire time.

The moment MC rises to the tips of her toes, Napoleon's arms secure their hold on her rear and lift her up, making her wrap her legs around his torso. Clothing is being shoved aside and out of the way. Napoleon whispers something about his next birthday wish involving going in nude next time they get in the water, and he makes it so the chuckle he receives in return morphs into a moan. The sea seemed a lot more waveless before they went in, or maybe the sea has nothing to do with it at all.

Chestnut-colored hair strands dance in the waters and catch the shimmer of the sun, leaving Napoleon unusually still and quiet even for the aftermath of their lovemaking, hypnotized as he is by the beauty of it all. They remain there connected under the water, surrounded by the moment in all its pure naturalistic scenery. Like they're the last two people standing on Earth.

The wet trail of footsteps leading to their spot on the rock disappears quicker than it would do in wet sand. The waterdrops on warmed skin dry about as fast, but Napoleon is faster when he chases after their cascading down MC's back, with his lips. It's salty, but his mouth is still sweetened by the kisses the two of them shared earlier.

Napoleon has many childhood stories from around the shore, enough to fill a whole afternoon with, and he keeps prodding at MC's memory so it could be tit for that. He asks again why they didn't bring that bottle of wine with them, reminding that it's not going to be 'that early in the day' forever, you know.

They take a walk and lament the absence of seashells which prevents Napoleon from showing a game he used to play a long, long time ago, and then make do with rocks that turn out to be no less eye-catching with their translucence. They only stop when it hits them that they intended to save some daylight for reading too.

It's not that the books are not of interest, if that was the case then the one hour spent in their hosts' home library picking them would have been a waste of time. It's just that Napoleon can't stop staring, and MC can't stop staring either. After the third time it gets annoying to lose your line, so why bother at all.

He tells her to remain in position, even with the book now closed and put aside - with her on her belly, and the sun still resting on her back, Napoleon soon straddles her legs and lets his large hands roam on her back.

After spending a good time admiring the tan line left by a thin strap and how it sealed their memory, seriously rivaling his awfully temporary in comparison lovemarks, he is no longer holding a grudge against non-nudity. And he takes her again under the setting sun, right there and then.

"Would you like me to carry you on the way back?"

MC tucks a strand behind her ear, the silky smoothness of her hair now replaced by sun-dried waves that smell like the sea. They're done gathering their things but she can't shake off the feeling that they'd left something behind. Before the terribly cheesy thought of that something being a piece of themselves can creep inside her already dreamy mind, she hurries to answer him.

"No, there's no reason for that, I can still walk!"

"Then, let's make a reason."

The mouthfuls of blood that were offered to him last night, politely turned down with a recognition of her tired eyes, are now seized in a true Napoleon fashion. It's a habit with him, putting a strategy in action until he comes out triumphant and with a smirk on his face that no one can wipe off. It's less contributed by getting his fill of the euphoric essence and more by the matching expression on MC's face, caught by the last rays of the sun bleeding in shades of orange. She doesn't complain being princess-carried back home anymore. This close up, she can easily remove the blood spilled on his chin with the back of her hand and retain some of their decency. Because it surely isn't hard to imagine whatever else the two of them were up to the whole day.

Un mondo fatto per due.

Back home, there's another surprise awaiting both the birthday boy and MC. It would appear that things cannot be kept secret under this roof, too, in case they'd started missing the atmosphere of Comte's mansion too much. The table in the garden has just been laid for the whole family but Napoleon is offered the central seat, under the sounds of birthday sing-alongs. He doesn't know which gaze to return first and ends up being rendered speechless and with a bubbling warmth in his heart that gets to his face. The attention doesn't bother him at all but MC still checks with a hand laid on top of his, under the table. His smile is dazzling when he turns their hands around and gives hers a little squeeze.

It's the perfect end of a perfect day, and Napoleon makes sure to repeat it a few times more times, for good measure, in a whisper close to her ear when he falls asleep with his head on her chest that night. Together with a handful of I-love-you's. Just for good measure.

[tixdixl]

"You're so thoughtful for wanting to celebrate my birthday with me. Genuinely, I'm honored!"

Set Home: Thank you for the wishes!

Groovy: [LOCKED]

Home Transition 1: I like to think that being born on the day of the Summer Solstice wasn't a coincidence. Oh, no. I don't mean that in a righteous way or anything. I've just been told I have a "sunny" disposition.

Home Transition 2: Another trip around the sun complete! On to the next chapter of this journey!

Home Transition 3: I'm honestly really excited to see all of my friends come together in the spirit fun and sharing each other's joy. There's nothing more I could possibly want on my birthday!

Home, after Login: I'm glad you could make it!

Home Transition, Groovification: [LOCKED]

Tap Home 1: Kalim and Rook both said I'm not allowed to prepare my own birthday party. It sounds like one of them is planning a surprise, but I'm honestly not sure.

Tap Home 2: If I had my way, I would want to eat one of Trey's cakes. But I wouldn't want to put him under all that stress. He's dealing with so much already.

Tap Home 3: I have a feeling Ruggie is going to try and steal one of my gifts. Either that or my jacket. "Something something boyfriend privilege."

Tap Home 4: I'm sorry- I'm just so giddy! Seeing everyone's smiles just makes me so happy.

Tap Home 5: A birthday without friends and loved ones is a birthday to mourn.

Tap Home, Groovification: [LOCKED]

Birthday Jacket Vignette 1

Birthday Jacket Vignette 2

Birthday Jacket Vignette 3

~ ~ ~

So normally, I don't have the time to get things done for character birthdays. But somehow, I managed to get literally everything ready in time for Emil's birthday. And I'll be the first to admit, this card art actually required me to do a lot of work outside my comfort zone, and I spent a LOT of time on the graphic design aspects. For what it's worth though, I'm actually really really proud of how it all turned out!

If anyone who uses CSP wants to know which fonts I used for the date and the initial patches:

Numbers and Initials = STENCIL

Date = Old English Text MT

Also major shout out to @the-trinket-witch for that post compiling all of the fandom resources. Literally, so much time was saved because of that master post. Thank you, thank you, a million times, thank you!

Tag list: @cyanide-latte @simons-twsted-children @inmateofthemind @ramshacklerumble

@rainesol @elenauaurs @blithesharem @theleechyskrunkly

@thehollowwriter @boopshoops @starry-night-rose

LMK if you want to be added/removed!

[stoneagedevil]

Her Song | Eddie Munson x f!reader

TW/CW: slight mention of sexual activity.

You’d wondered if accepting the responsibility of opening for one of your favorite bands was worth it anymore. A choice that had initially had you choking on butterflies of excitement now left you remorseful and regretful.

Not regretful for who’ve you met and the wonderful opportunities you’ve had along the way, but regretful for who’ve you made angry. It’s not like you were there first anyways.

Chrissy was.

Chrissy Cunningham. America’s newest skinny, tan, blonde model. She had a body sculpted by the Gods, and Eddie’s sultry lyrics in his greatest hit was a constant reminder of that. Despite the fact that they broken up, you’d felt as if she never really left. The riffs to her song were ingrained in the strings of his beloved guitar, “Sweetheart,” and you’d been left wondering if you’d feel better after stealing it and replacing the strings yourself. His vocal cords and soft lips danced in harmony, performing “Midnight Blondie” night after night.

It was a song about their unbridled passion in the bedroom. All of her perfections, her taste, her eyes, her everything.

And you’d have to listen to it. You. Not a model, but a musician. Not perfect, but rough around the edges. No sleek hair, but wild and spiky. Not perfect makeup where it should be, all the sweat and emotion of performing had always left your lipstick smeared, cheeks flushed, and eye makeup running. Not a body fit for modeling, your tattoos would all be in the way. You were her opposite, and of course you were. You didn’t have a song.

But little known to Eddie, he had a million. A lot of the material you performed with your band “H/C and the Banshees” was inspired by your inability to tear your heart shaped eyes away from your rockstar boyfriend. You felt like a pathetic puppy, and your bandmates started to take notice.

“Y/N, why don’t you just talk to him? Tell him that he needs to retire that song. We’re all sick of hearing it y’know.” F/N said. At their voice, you startled, moving your somber eyes to look at your friend.

“Because. I can’t.” It had been something you’d been trying to come to terms with. “I see the comments his fans leave. They miss that good girl and bad boy vibe from Chrissy and Eddie. I came into the picture and now I wish I hadn’t.” A tear rolled down your cheek as your throat closed up and nose burned. “I-I just can’t.” You ferociously wiped your tears away, not one to normally cry. Especially not in front of others.

“Dude, it doesn’t matter what the ‘fans’ think.” They emphasized with finger quotes, “if those cretins actually support him then they’d want him to be with someone who makes him happy, and you know there’s more support than hate out there. You’re a match made in Heaven. Or Hell, whichever you prefer.” They sat beside you backstage, rubbing your back gently. The soothing gesture almost made you cry more.

“I can’t….now……but, maybe I will soon.” Is all you could really say. You couldn’t voice that you weren’t sure if you were the one that truly made him happy. Not like she did.

“You can do it. I’ve never doubted you in my life, and I’m not starting now.” They smiled warmly at you, causing the corners of your lips to pluck up a bit.

“Yeah yeah.” You rolled your eyes playfully, smiling a little wider.

But it still didn’t reach your eyes.

-

The concert was over, and after chilling in the dressing rooms backstage and getting a bite to eat at the best rated restaurant nearby, you’d have to pile into your tour bus and head to the next destination, where within another beautiful theater, you’d have to listen to that damn song you hated with your whole being.

In order to kickstart the rest of the night, you set off for your dressing room, hoping the sooner you got there, the sooner you could eat and leave another “Midnight Blondie” tainted venue. Perhaps it was a mistake to do so, as the minute you shut the door that had your name plastered on it, you broke down once more.

It’s not like you were jealous. No, jealously would imply that you had competition, and you felt you stood no chance against a literal supermodel. You kicked over your chair and plummeted onto the velvet couch sat against the wall.

The door suddenly bursted open with a palpable excitable energy.

“Hey sweets! Holy shit. It was crazy out there. Did you hear them cheering? They were louder than the last….crowd……sweets?” All at once, Eddie’s boisterous nature had left like a spirit leaving the dead. “Honey, what’s wrong?” His eyebrows morphed into that of concern, and he rushed to the couch, to you. Wrapping his arm around you, trying to comfort you, but it truly only made it feel worse.

“Yeah Eddie. I heard.” You said shortly, your voice dripping with sadness as your face dripped with tears. “You did great.” You tried to walk back the initial anger you felt. It wasn’t his fault.

“Sweetheart, tell me what’s the matter. Did you get heckled or something?” He craned his neck to meet your eyes with his. You’d began to wonder if he had some sort of superpower held within those chocolate eyes. Every gaze of concern was like a truth serum shot, and you’d give in every time.

Well almost.

“Nothing. I’m fine. I’m just, like, homesick or whatever.” That was obviously a lie. You didn’t really have a home. He looked at you with that, ‘really?’ expression. Yes. Really.

“Look, I know I’m not exactly a genius, but I think I can tell when my girlfriend is lying.” He smiled softly in an attempt to make you smile back.

Suddenly, you exploded. “Eddie. I hate that song you always sing.” Instantly, you felt rotten.

He was obviously taken aback at this. What song? Which of them didn’t you like? His fans loved a lot of them, and while he had a flop every now and then, what artist didn’t?

“Think about it.” You encouraged snidely, seeing the thoughts fizzle out.

And then the gears in his head started turning. The pieces to the puzzle started falling into place.

Ever since you guys got together and started touring, your music would get progressively more angry. Of course it always had an edge, your voice was one of the first things he fell in love with, but lately it was just different. He assumed you were just trying out a new sound, but you strained your voice as if your heart was strained just the same. You’d be happy up until the crowd’s cries for encores. And when he gave into the crowd, he’d notice that post-performance euphoria dissipate.

It was Chrissy’s song. And holy shit. He was a fucking idiot.

“I-I’m sorry! Shit. I fucked up.” He panicked, more to himself, “I fucked up bad. Y/N I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” How could he be so stupid? His current girlfriend’s band opened for his, and then she’d have to sit through his whole concert until he sang a song dedicated to his ex. More so his ex’s body. He felt slimey.

“It’s okay, I just-“

“No! It’s not! Y/N you mean so much to me. I’ve never met anyone like you before. To be honest, I’ve written like a shit ton of songs about you. About everything about you. But I never play them because I’m afraid you won’t like them. They need to be perfect because you’re so fucking perfect.” He looked absolutely desperate now.

“But I’m not her.” You looked so deeply into his eyes when you said those words, his heart felt like thin ice you were carefully walking across. He’d let you down.

“And I never want you to be. I’m with you now, and I’m with you for a reason.”

Your heart stopped for a second, you’re sure of that. “Do you really mean that? I just feel like everyone wishes you were still with her.”

“Are you kidding?! Fuck them. I don’t care what anyone thinks. Never have, never will. Well, except you.” He added, smiling, and you laughed in response. He held you tighter. “Y/N, I’m never playing that song again. It doesn’t mean anything to me. You’re worth more to me than cheers from a crowd. I’d rather hear the whole world go silent.”

Jesus. You were a sucker for Eddie Munson. And how could you not be when he said shit like that?

“You’re a dork. I love you.” You rolled your eyes, sniffling slightly. What else could you say? You were speechless. More of a singer than a talker.

“And I love you more. So guess what? I’m going to write the best fucking love song ever dedicated to you. It’ll make everyone have heart attacks with how romantic it is.” He held your shoulders in his hands, pushing you away from him in order to make eye contact, assuring that his word is truth.

And it was.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐭

Satoru Gojo & Suguru Getou

[Chapter 6] Finally Home

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader x Suguru Getou

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“There’s the woman I love.” Suguru barges into the room, mid into your night routine, with the corners of his mouth turned upside. He walks over to you, as you sit in front of your vanity, and leans down to kiss your cheek. You smile at him through the mirror.

A week after your little slipup with Satoru, things have gone back to normal. As normal as things are in your life. Your husband works for extremely long hours while you’re lonely. Isolated from the world most of the time. For the first time in a long time, he’s home at a somewhat decent time.

“Honey… It’s so nice that you’re here.” You speak, a forced smile coming to your lips. You love the man that’s behind you, yet you can’t bring yourself to feel content with his presence. You feel annoyed at the fact that he’s completely disregarded you. He’s started his affair and completely forgotten about his wife, leaving you to fend for your own needs. And while you love him, you haven’t forgiven him for that yet. You’re not sure if you will.

“Just wanted to surprise my sweet wife.” He says. That’s when you notice the not-so-little velvety black box. He places it on your vanity, and while you’re excited to see the jewelry that he got you, you’re still not finished with your nightly routine. So you put the box to the side. Plus, you want to show your husband that you’re not exactly too happy with him. His hands go to your shoulders and he begins to massage your back. “Open it, I want to see your reaction.”

“You’re going to have to wait.” You tell him as you put some of your under eye cream. You’ve formed a routine that you’re not willing to forfeit because your husband finally decided to show up. He ends up chuckling as he begins to get undressed, ready to take a shower, put on some pajamas and finally go to bed. He doesn’t have to say anything, which annoys you even more. He isn’t even trying. Your brows furrow and you clear your throat, “Aren’t you going to wait?”

“Honey, I’m tired.” He says as he takes his shirt off. You end up rolling your eyes, deciding to bite your tongue. You see a bruise on his back, and your blood begins to boil. You open the box to find the most beautiful diamond necklace that your eyes have ever come across. It looks stupid expensive. Yet you shut the box and throw it on the floor. It startles him.

“Couldn’t even make the time to buy me a decent necklace.” You mutter, side-eyeing him. You get up and begin to walk over to the bed. 

“Honey, please. I’m not in the mood to argue.” Suguru sighs. You don’t respond. You stay quiet as you get under the covers. Your lack of response makes him sigh again and that’s when he reveals why he’s here so early, “I need you to go to an event with me tomorrow night. Please collect yourself before then.”

“Take your stupid secretary. She’s more your wife than I am.”

“You can’t be serious…” Suguru pinches the bridge of his nose. He ends up shaking his head, deciding that it’s not worth arguing. You’ll calm down on your own eventually.

The next morning you’re calmer. Just as he expected, you’re level headed. Not exactly as tender as he’d like, but he can’t expect too much in eight hours. He begins to understand your reaction at noon, when he realizes how much your morning routine has changed in the past year.

Instead of having breakfast downstairs in the dining room, you choose to have it in bed. After all, your custom was to eat together, yet since Suguru is usually gone by this time, there’s no point in it. You of course didn’t change this single morning because he finally decided to stay home. The same way you wouldn’t have decided to have breakfast brought to bed because one morning he had to leave early for work.

Moreover, after breakfast you two would usually spend around an hour or so together before he decided to get ready for work. Yet this morning, you decided to work out. Another part of your routine that you refused to change for him. So he had to entertain himself for an hour, which was easy enough to do with work. He’s still busy even if he’s taking the day off.

When you finished your work out, you took a shower. He offered to join you, but you warned him about the water being extremely cold. You take cold showers in the morning now. You told him something about cold showers having great benefits. Which isn’t too bad, but he does find it weird when he recalls every time he entered the bathroom seeing the foggy mirror and the steam clouding up the bathroom. Apparently it’s rare when you take hot showers anymore, occasionally you take a lukewarm bath.

He’s noticed that you’ve taken up a couple of hobbies. At nine you meditate for around half an hour before you tend the little garden that he hadn’t noticed before. And then you proceed to do some floral arrangements. Ones that decorate the house that he lives in, yet something that he hasn’t had the time to notice. 

Finally, you got to the art studio that’s in the house. Something that’s absolutely new but he hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t checked the statements of your accounts, he just makes sure that someone pays them. He had missed the large sum of money that had been spent to make yourself an art studio, after all you’ve taken up oil painting. You do all of this before noon, before you take yet another shower, this one much shorter than your morning one.

After noticing this sudden change in your routine is when Suguru starts to understand your feelings a bit more. The tantrum that you had the previous night was justifiable. Of course he got a necklace that he knew you’d adore, so he knew it wasn’t about the jewelry itself.

So at noon he sits in the living room, waiting for you to come downstairs. You’re bound to eat eventually.

“Do you want to go out to lunch, honey?” Suguru asks when he hears your heels click against the marble floor. He raises his voice so it’s loud enough for you to hear. He knows you heard, yet, you don’t say anything in response until you’re finally downstairs and he repeats the question.

“I have to get my nails done. We’re going out tonight, aren’t we? I can’t show up looking like a mess. I also have to get my hair done.” You answer, and he ends up sighing in response. In the end he can’t expect you to drop everything for him. The same way you can’t expect him to drop everything for you. “I also have to get a dress. What color?”

“Purple would look cute. Get some french tips.” He tells you, and you end up rolling your eyes. It’s nice to see he hasn’t changed his nail design preference. You’re not getting french tips though.

“I’ll see you at five.”

“We have to leave by seven.” He informs you.

“I said I’ll see you at five.”

You end up buying the purple dress he wanted, wearing the diamond necklace he got you, and getting french tips. One way or another, Suguru gets what he wants. You’re on your way to the event, sitting in the back of a black Rolls Royce, next to your husband. Your arms are crossed and brows furrowed as you look out the window. He stares at his phone, not sure how to spark conversation when you’re still very clearly mad at him.

“I see you don’t hate the necklace as much as you claim.” Suguru ends up speaking up, which isn’t the best way to start a conversation with a wife that’s clearly not happy.  Obviously, it doesn’t gain a response from you. “We’ll stay here for around an hour or so. I doubt too many important people will be here. No one we can benefit from.”

“Then what’s the point of going?” You question, and the man purses his lips as he begins to rub his chin. He wonders so. He’s already got Satoru going, so there’s really no point. Until he remembers.

“My parents asked me to. Old friend of theirs is hosting it.” He informs you, and you huff. Although you like this better than staying home because you’re simply sick of staying home every single night. Although, in a few moments you’ll have to put up the sweet wife act which is something you’re not exactly in the mood for. Suguru looks at you, putting his phone away and grabbing your hands. “Please stop this behavior, honey. I can’t take it any longer.”

“Sorry, I’m so busy.” You sarcastically respond. He can’t help but pout. He tries to think of a way to apologize, but he doesn’t come up with anything before the chauffeur parks in front of your destination. 

Suguru exits the car and opens the door for you. He extends his hand for you to take, and you take it. You intertwine arms and walk with each other, putting on the fake smile that you’ve been practicing. You finally enter the building, and you take a deep breath before you follow your husband’s every step.

You know no one, yet you act familiar with all of them. Every single one of them is prestigious in some way– Not as prestigious as the man by your side, but they get near that level. What you love about this sort of event is that every person you end up greeting looks up at you. Your status as Suguru’s wife is unmatched, and everyone wants you on their good side.

You lose count of the amount of people you greet around thirty minutes later. No one really catches your eye until you spot Satoru. Suguru’s best friend who is doing the same thing as Suguru. You two make eye contact and as you feel your cheeks get warm, you look away.

“It’s really nice getting to talk to you again, let’s keep in contact.” Suguru says, smiling at some old couple. Neither of you care about them, but if you show your true feelings, what kind of person would that make you? They end up walking away, and you begin to drag Suguru somewhere else, hoping that you don’t cross paths with Satoru.

But Satoru has spotted you, and he’s walking over to you. And he has the upper hand, catching Suguru’s attention by yelling his name. Suguru stops, turning to see his best friend and he smiles. You feel your heartbeat speed up, and not for any good reasons.

“So nice seeing you here, Suguru.” Satoru smiles, making your husband let go of your arm to greet his best friend with a hug. Your arms are crossed as you watch the exchange, and when they let go it’s when you notice Satoru has a date with him. It’s no one extravagant so it worries you. Satoru always shows up with someone that’s fit enough to be a goddess, so the fact that the woman next to him isn’t, means she’s someone serious. Satoru acknowledges you, and gives you a subtle nod. It’s his usual greeting.

“Satoru, who’s your… friend?” Suguru asks, looking at the woman next to Satoru. Suguru is kind and smiles, and you smile as well.

“I’m happy to introduce you two to my beautiful girlfriend. Utahime.”  Satoru sounds sweet as he introduces the woman next to him, and you two introduce yourselves to her. She isn’t the most talkative, which makes sense. Opposites attract or whatever they say.

“So how are you two doing?” Satoru asks while your lips go to your husband’s ear. You feel Satoru’s eyes burn into your skin as you whisper something into your husband’s ear.

“Oh shit… Sorry, Satoru, I forgot we have something back at home so we have to get–”

“Leaving? Your parents just got here.” Satoru says, causing you to glare at him. 

“Sorry, honey.” Suguru ends up apologizing while he looks the way Satoru points, realizing that his parents are indeed here. You don’t mind your in-law’s, but you don’t want to spend another moment here. Especially with Satoru who has a mischievous smile on his face. 

“Sorry for ruining your plans.” Satoru comments, putting his hand on your shoulder, which you quickly push away.

“I’ll talk to them quickly, I’ll be back, honey.” Suguru kisses your forehead before walking away to his parents. Which leaves you awkward with Satoru and his girlfriend.

“So how’s married life treating you?” Satoru asks, knowing exactly the answer but solely asking it to make himself smile. Cruel. You roll your eyes before commenting,

“Let’s see how dating life treats you.” You mutter. You then look at his girlfriend and say, “No offense. Your boyfriend is just the biggest piece of shit to ever walk this Earth.”

“I’m sorry?” Utahime slowly blinks, before she asks, “Who do you think you are to judge him like that?”

“Excuse me?” You respond. Of course, it’s an understandable reaction from her part, but you still didn’t expect it from her.

“Don’t talk about him like you know him.” She tells you, causing you to frown. But as reality hits you, your frown goes away and a smile overtakes your lips. You know him better than she does. Way better. You chuckle, knowing that a week ago her boyfriend was on a video call, masturbating to you and telling you how he’d come over to fuck you.

“Oh, you’re so right.” You can’t stop laughing. “I don’t know him at all, honey.”

You end up walking away, leaving them to look at you. Satoru smirks, while Utahime looks confused. Absolutely lost.

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[daebraeksan]

Nagi falls asleep before you because you’re hyped up from an exciting night

Genre: fluff, domestic, established relationship 

Wc: 809

~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

You vibrate with excitement.

“Slow down,” Nagi says, as your foot gets heavier on the gas pedal as your favorite part of the song starts.

“Sorry,” you say, the normal anxiety you would get at criticism just a pinprick in the vast ocean of your joy.

“It’s okay,” he says easily. After all, he’s happy you’re happy. You think it comes few and far between. But he sees you. And he knows you. He knows you don’t have to be fake with him. It’s an honor he doesn’t take lightly. He knows how you feel happiness is hard to come by, and good memories feel few and far between. He loves seeing you like this. Duh. Of course he would hate to see you sad. But one of his favorite things about you is the expansive joy you feel from the (seemingly) littlest things. It makes life feel…larger than life. 

He also knows exactly how things are going to go down when you both get home. First, you’ll want a snack. If you don’t stop on the way home for drive through  or take out (and this time, you don’t) that means you have something in mind of what you want to eat already—probably something you’ve been thinking about for a while then, since you haven’t eaten in a bit. Far too caught up in the excitement, definitely. You’ll tell him he doesn’t have to stay up with you. You know he knows this. He knows you know. And if he’s left off at a good stopping place (if there is such a thing) in his game, he probably will stay up with you. He’s already half asleep on his feet, anyway. It’s not that he has a bedtime per se (he’s a gamer …so…) but his social battery gets used up a lot faster than yours. Also, you have a lot more energy and care so much more. He doesn’t know how you do it. But it’s all worth it of course. It always is with you.

After your snack, you’ll feel obligated to go to bed. You might even make it so far as to wriggle yourself under the covers with Nagi. By now, Nagi’s eyes will be closed and his head will be on the pillow, even if the lamp on your side of the bed is still on. If he’s not already asleep, he will be drifting into slumber. He’s only human—a very sleepy human to begin with, and now? It’s late. You both are cozy. Even if your energy is very often tangible, it’s still home to him. It’s still comforting, even if it’s electric and hyper and A Lot. You never ask him to stay up with you.  He wishes you would. He would try. He would at least cuddle with you while you watched a movie (and while he slept.) Galavanting on an adventure? At this hour? Maybe not. But hot cocoa and TV would be fine. He knows you don’t want the good days to end. He knows you never want to let go of happy feelings when you have them. He also knows that he’s always going to be there for you no matter what. You don’t have to be afraid of bad days anymore. You don’t have to be afraid of good days never coming back because they will. Nagi can’t “make” you happy—but you’re both happy together. You’re in this together and you’re here for each other. When you’re finally ready to let sleep claim you—and you will, eventually—it’s not as though it’s the night before Nagi goes abroad for a very, very long time and the scarcity mindset kicks in and isn’t technically necessarily wrong that time. That one time.

But now? Today? And tomorrow? You’ll both be here. You’ll both be together. You’ll wake up together—and we both know what that means is you will wake up first and he will wake up after—but you’ll be together, and that’s the point. 

On nights like this, sometimes Nagi falls asleep without telling you good night and that he loves you. He doesn't like doing that. He knows you know. You know. But he knows you like hearing it. He likes telling you. He knows you feel it coming off him in waves, always, enveloping you, enshrouding you, protecting you. Even if you know, it’s no excuse for him not to tell you, since he knows the doubts you’ve had in the past, with other people, and (when you first got to know each other) even with him.

So he will make it up to you in the morning, however you want. He is here for you always. He loves you so much. And that’s all there is to it. He might not always say good night, but he will be there tomorrow to say, “good morning, angel.” 

[nabateaprodigy]

Mahiru with a Male S/O that's the ultimate boxer, he is also incredibly strong as well as big, buff, and intimidating, but he's extremely pacifistic and kind, he only boxes because he likes to entertain people and see them happy, unfortunately because of his fame people challenge him to fights a lot to try and steal his spotlight (which he really don't give two dangs 'bout) and because S/O doesn't know/never learned how to hold back his strength, he normally ends up sending the people who challenge him to the E.R. on a daily basis, and because of this he thinks of himself as lucky to have a girlfriend like Mahiru, he also thinks of himself as a monster, a monster who's just better than anyone else at crushing people. (If you get the reference from the ultimate talent, and the quote at the end, you got good taste) have a good day/evening/night

Deserved to be Loved

Series: Danganronpa.

Character: Mahiru.

Genre: Angst/Comfort.

Proofread: Yes.

Reader: Male.

An Ultimate Talent something that everyone wishes to have and you were one of those lucky few. You are M/N the Ultimate Boxer and to have this Ultimate Talent was something you were extremely proud of. To be recognized for your efforts and to be known as an Ultimate was something that made you happy.

But now? It's something you hate something that you regret. 'What's the point of being an Ultimate anymore?' Thoughts like this often crossed. Other than being recognized for your efforts of becoming an Ultimate.

Happiness is what you want to bring people more than happiness and entertainment that's what meant to be a boxer to you. To see people smile to see their excitement at an upcoming match that's what you wanted most. However, even at the very start, this seemed to be difficult.

Days, months, years, this is how long you had devoted to training. But in the end, you wonder if it was even worth it. You're much taller than most students and have extraordinary muscles. To many students around school, they viewed you as scary and unapproachable.

You wanted nothing more than to make friends and make those friends through your love of boxing. But even then this didn't seem to work out well for you either. You would make rivals through boxing but they weren't the friendly type.

Challenging you challenging your title as the Ultimate Boxer is what these rivals wanted. However, each match ended the same way for you nothing but a bittersweet victory. Victories came too easily for you at first you loved but grew to hate.

Where was the challenge? How could you grow as a boxer? As you were now it didn't seem like you would get any of those.

However even with all this what you've been through all this despair...you had one spark of hope and this hope was your girlfriend Mahiru. You remember the day well when Mahiru approached you.

"Excuse me do you mind if I sit here?" Mahiru spoke as she held her tray of food. You look at her surprised anyone would approach you let alone ask to sit with you. "No, I don't mind." You replied softly.

Mahiru sat down across from you putting down her tray of food in front of her. "Honestly it's so busy in here today. You would think anyone would want to sit at a mostly empty table." Mahiru spoke causally although slightly annoyed.

"No one is sitting here because of me because of my appearance." You spoke softly playing with your food. "Is that so? I have a classmate who has a lot of muscles just like you. And unlike him, you look like you have some sense."

Mahiru spoke once more and you well you couldn't help but laugh at her response. She wasn't sure why you were laughing but she didn't care she loved your laugh. Soon after that a friendship began and sometime after that, a relationship blossomed.

Now here both of you were sitting on a bench in a park with the lovely sunny weather. It was great weather so Mahiru wanted to go out to take pictures and you were more than happy to go with her. But now you were just sitting side by side eating ice cream and you couldn't be happier.