#laying my life on the line using my real voice

[hiraethwa]

matsukawa issei is never careless. 

every action, every word is carefully thought through, turned over in his mind before it is allowed to become reality. he is quiet, but you know behind that facade of nonchalance is a man who cared far too much. 

perhaps you would be better off if you never figured him out. 

at least your heart would be safe, and still yours. 

he might have been the one to set the boundaries, but it does not mean he is not toeing the line, dangerously off balance. 

you grip the note tightly between your fingers in the pocket of your winter jacket. the thick scarf that you found folded neatly on the kitchen counter is wrapped securely around your neck, forming a makeshift hood to keep the bone-chilling wind away. 

stay warm. 

a simple reminder scrawled in his messy handwriting, left on top of the warm fabric. a present, from issei to you.

somehow he had found out that your old winter jacket leaves your head and neck exposed to the elements, and noticed the small detail despite never being out with you. 

it seemed very issei of him to do so. the act itself warming your insides far more than the actual gift does, and for a moment you wished that you might have met issei under different circumstances.

would he have seen you under a different light? not as a convenient lay but someone worth falling for?

you try not to think of your clothes taking up half his wardrobe, cleared out to make space for you without being asked, the handpainted mug that he uses to make coffee every morning even though he called it ugly, the blanket that became a permanent fixture on the back of the couch, in easy reach if you were ever cold. 

you try not to think of his shirts that have now become yours. 

you try not to think of how many girls before you who had the fortune of having him, of the pieces that stayed with them long after they were gone—because you don’t believe anyone is born without the yearning for love. 

because there must have been a version of matsukawa issei who fell irrevocably in love and stopped believing in it. 

he certainly acts like he knew how to love someone, despite his emotional distance. 

you don’t bother thinking that you could be the one who changes him. that is reserved for characters in books, and certainly not you. 

“okaeri.” his deep voice floats down the hallway as you close the door behind you. 

“tadaima.” you reply, putting your shoes into the cabinet and hanging up your outerwear. 

issei’s apartment is kept neat and clean, an astonishing discovery the first night he brought you back from a party. no shoes littering the entryway, or clothes strewn over the back of chairs, or tableware on surfaces. 

it had all been so surprising because you failed to expect this from one of the infamous seijoh four. you had imagined playfulness, charming carelessness. and somehow issei had been all of that and none of it. 

from the start, matsukawa issei had always managed to evade your expectations.  

“deadline coming up soon?” he asks between bites of yakisoba noodles. 

you snort at the sight of the normally composed man stuffing his mouth full of food, looking like a cute chipmunk. somehow he still manages to continually break your perception of him, looking so boyish, unburdened.

“our final year project, the biggest model to date.” you nod, setting down your backpack and pulling out your sketchbook, eager to put your new idea down on paper before you forget. “my neck is killing me.”

“have you eaten yet?” he questions while scooping a new plate of yakisoba. 

you give him a sheepish smile, guilty of being too absorbed in translating your architecture design into a real-life model. 

he joins you at the dining table, pushing the plate of food in front of you. “eat.” 

you look up at him, the gentle command in the word sinking into your flesh. something hot pools in your belly, sending blood rushing through your head as your eyelashes flutter up at issei. 

he crosses his arms, muscles flexing in his forearm, and you resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together. 

but he does not make an advance. no, things have been changing between you lately. 

“i’m drawing you a bath, don’t strain your neck too much.” he pads away quietly, footsteps softened by his socks on the wooden floorboards. 

you exhale, letting out the breath you didn’t know you were holding in. 

he should stop doing these things that make you feel like you have a chance. stop giving you hope that there could be a future for the two of you. 

but you are selfish, not wishing to stop feeling like he cared about you, like he could love you back. 

you flip the sketchbook close, heart heavy knowing that those pages hold evidence of finding home within someone who will never stay—designs of buildings that are so warm yet distant, intimate but cold. 

you have been trying to catch up to matsukawa issei, but it feels like he is intent on staying out of grasp. 

though you still cannot help but hope you could. 

[squwhims]

I am weeks late to the party here because it took me too long to edit this video, but I did a dramatic, literal reading for one of the Gossip Girl posts that went around a while ago. (Video length is 4 minutes)

[gh0stsp1d3r]

-GUN TO YOUR HEAD…

MDNI | DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Warnings: gun play, dark!rafe, blowjobs, gun to head, drug use (cocaine), use of the words “bitch, idiot”, dubcon

I don’t condone any of this in real life. this is PURELY a work of fiction and is not meant to be taken seriously. consent is key <3

He had been tired of your constant whining and complaining the whole day. As soon as you both stepped into the house, his eyes darkened and you could tell he was being serious when he reached into his waistband and the gun you knew was tucked in it.

You swallowed, thinking the words “rafe wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” Over and over to yourself. He glanced down at it, holding it in his hands.

“Stop your crying.” He told you with a scoff. “Get in the fucking room.” He nodded his head towards the door, you quickly nodding again, scrambling to the room as quickly as possible, tearing off your shoes as you sat on the bed, your leg bouncing up and down while you desperately tried to wipe your tears off with the back of your hand.

You swallowed again when you stood in front of him, looking down bashfully at the floor underneath you. You watched as he walked in, grabbing out something from his drawer, before hearing him snort a line on his dresser, him throwing his head back with a sigh.

“Get on your knees.” His voice was a murmur, but it was held with authority, you obeying as quickly as possible.

“Can’t take your fucking… constant nagging anymore. Rafe, I wanna go home. Rafe, this is bad. Rafe don’t do that!” He mocked you with a scoff, pacing in front of you for a moment before stopping.

He stood in front of you, you still looking at the ground. “Look at me when I talk to you!” He shouted, you jumping and flinching as the words vibrated off the walls, you looking up at him now, your eyes pleading with him.

He sighed heavily, looking at the gun in his hands. He thought for a moment, before he put it of the side of your head.

“Rafe-“.

“Shut up.”

“Rafe- I’m- I’m- I’m- sorry- I’m sorry-“ you were hyperventilating at this point.

“I said shut up!”

You continued staring up at him with fear and confusion in your eyes, not knowing what to say or do at this point.

“God- fucking idiot-“ he murmured to himself, although you heard it. “Do I need to give you step by step instructions? Suck my dick.” He said in a demeaning voice.

You listened and obeyed, your hands fumbling with his zipper, before pulling his cock out of the confines of his pants and boxers.

He sighed in relief when you finally put your mouth to the tip of his aching, red cock, the hand that was on the gun relaxing slightly. You didn’t waste a second, not wanting to anger him any more.

His other hand made its way to the back of your head, setting a faster pace. You made a noise of surprise, grabbing onto his thighs, digging your nails into them as he shoved your entire mouth down on his cock. You had spit dripping down your mouth and mascara running down your face, but he didn’t seem to care.

He chuckled harshly, “don’t cry.” He mocked with a pout, you slobbering all on his cock while he spoke down to you. “This is what happens when you’re a fucking bitch all day, baby.” He shoved you down even further, until your face was stuffed in his pubic hair, him laughing at your struggles to breathe.

He pulled you back off of his cock, giving you time for some air. You coughed and spluttered, your throat thoroughly bruised. He leaned down to speak in your ear, a chilling threat that hung in the air even when he left the room to go start a bath for you. Because despite everything, he still loved you. A sick, twisted part of him did.

“You’re lucky I don’t blow your brains out right fucking now.”

When he left, you noticed the bullets laying across the room. The gun had been empty the whole time.

[idyllic-ghost]

Title: Boyfriend Privileges Pairing: Mingyu x gn(femme presenting)!reader Genre: fluff, suggestive, established relationship Wordcount: 9.9k Rating: 18+

Synopsis: The ten times Mingyu has shown off his "boyfriend privileges"

Warnings: suggestive content not suitable for anyone under the age of 18, food mention, pet names, reader presents as feminine at one point (wearing a dress) but it still reads as gender neutral, slight angst, bathing together

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

A/N: this fic was created before i decided to leave this blog permanently, and put on queue to be posted now. this blog is still not active. read here to find out why

MDNI: Adults only. Minors are not allowed. Any minors found will be blocked.

Masterlists

You're not sure exactly when it began or what prompted it, but a few months into your relationship, Mingyu started asking you to do little tasks for him. They're always small, often tedious things. Whenever you hesitate, he flashes a charming smile and invokes "boyfriend privileges." Maybe it's the playful way he says it or the endearing look in his eyes, but you always end up giving in.

Mingyu, ever perceptive, has noticed this and teeters on the brink of abusing his "powers." But it doesn't bother you. You'd happily indulge your boyfriend's privileges.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 1. Overgrown puppy cuddles

Mingyu is a large puppy that just doesn’t understand how big he is. At least, that's how you see him. Whenever your boyfriend comes home from an especially rough day at work, he wants cuddles. It doesn't matter what you're doing, he'll pout and beg until you sit down on the couch and let him cuddle up in your lap.

"You're crushing me," you mutter.

You're sitting with your legs over the couch cushions, your back against the armrest. Mingyu's laying over your body like a human blanket—one of those electrical blankets that people use in winter. The man is warm.

"Boyfriend privileges," he mumbles, his voice muffled against your skin.

You sigh because you know he's right, you'd let him do this even if he's crushing your bones. Letting your fingers tangle in his hair, Mingyu let's out a sound of approval and nuzzles his head deeper into the crook of your neck. His arms are around your torso, making sure that you don't even try to move. Not that you would.

"Did you have a long day?" you ask softly and he hums. "My poor baby..."

You coo at him, and he whines—he's relishing in being doted on. Mingyu's arms squeeze you a little, a silent sign that he wants you to continue.

"You work so hard, don't you?" You wait for Mingyu to nod before you coo again, "My hardworking Gyu, you're doing such a good job. People love you, you know that? They appreciate your work. So do I."

Mingyu tilts his head up, his eyebrows raised as he silently asks for confirmation. "I really do," you add.

"Thank you..." He puts his forehead against your chest and sighs. "I needed this... needed you."

"I know, puppy." You smile and ruffle his hair.

Mingyu groans and lifts his upper body off of you, his arms resting on the armrest behind you. "Oh, finally! I can breathe!" you exclaim dramatically.

"Sorry," he mutters.

You cup his face in your hands. "I was kidding. I don't mind." You lean in and press a kiss on his pouty lips. "You're like my blanket... or like a Saint Bernard who's forgotten he's not a puppy anymore."

Mingyu smiles at that, before leaning in to litter your face with pecks that have you giggling and squealing.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 2. Random massages

You're in line for a ride at an amusement park when Mingyu suddenly turns to you. It's been at least five minutes since you started waiting, and you can tell he's getting impatient. His foot taps rhythmically on the ground, and he keeps glancing at his watch.

"Can you give me a massage? My shoulder's stiff," he huffs, rubbing the offending spot for emphasis.

"Again?" Your eyebrows furrow with concern. "Gyu, you should really go see a specialist..."

Mingyu pretends to ponder this suggestion, then shakes his head with a playful grin. "I don't need a specialist if I have you."

You sigh and roll your eyes, but can't help smiling at his pleading expression. His big, puppy-like eyes, the way his smile showcases his adorable canines, and his hands clasped together in a mockery of prayer make it impossible to refuse. "Sure," you mutter, already resigning yourself to his request.

The line moves a little, and you both shuffle forward a few steps. You're momentarily distracted by the imposing structure of the rollercoaster ahead, watching as the cart sends passengers hurtling through loops and dips at breakneck speed. Your reverie is interrupted by Mingyu poking your side.

"What?" you ask, looking back at him.

"Please?" he repeats, his tone even more imploring.

"Now?" You glance around at the crowd surrounding you—though no one seems to be paying attention, you feel self-conscious.

"Now," Mingyu insists, nodding earnestly.

"Babe, I can't massage you here. You know you shouldn't take off your shirt in public, right? Even if we do find somewhere private, I don't have any oils—"

"Not a big one." He interrupts, holding up his hand with his index finger and thumb inches apart. "A small one. Just on the spot on my shoulder."

"Gyu—"

"Boyfriend privileges," he pleads quietly, eyes wide and hopeful.

You can't say no to him when he gets like this. With a resigned sigh, you motion for him to turn around. He does so eagerly, bending his knees slightly to give you better access to his shoulder. Placing one hand on his neck and the other on his shoulder, you begin to work your thumb into the knot you find there.

Mingyu lets out a soft, contented sigh, only audible to your ears, as he relaxes almost immediately under your touch. The tension in his shoulder melts away, and his head drops forward slightly, eyes closing in relief. The gentle hum of the amusement park, the chatter of the crowd, and the distant screams from the rollercoaster all fade into the background as you focus on easing his discomfort.

Despite the oddity of the situation, there's something intimate and endearing about the moment. The world around you blurs, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of your own making. And as you massage Mingyu's shoulder, you can't help but feel a warm rush of affection for him and his silly, endearing ways.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 3. Sharing food

The restaurant is alive with the hum of conversations, the clinking of cutlery, and the occasional burst of laughter. However, all of this fades into a distant background as you focus intently on Chan's story. It's a rare opportunity to meet the members in person, despite your boyfriend working so closely with them, so you want to make the most of every second.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is lost in his own world. Ever since he finished his meal, he’s been zoned out—leaning back in his chair with a distant look in his eyes. You can't decide if he's impatiently waiting for Chan to finish or if he's just succumbed to a food coma. But when he casually reaches over and steals a fry from your plate, your doubts about the food coma vanish. You glance at him, and he meets your gaze with a small, mischievous smile before grabbing another fry. You let him.

A sudden gasp beside you snaps you back, and you turn to see Jun staring at you with mock jealousy from across the table. You smile and tilt your head questioningly.

"What?" you ask, bemused.

"You hit my hand when I tried to borrow a fry from you," Jun accuses, his eyes narrowed at you.

"First of all, I gently slapped it," you correct him. "Second of all, you were stealing, not borrowing. Don't try to make your crime sound better."

Jun huffs dramatically, and you can't help but grin. Meanwhile, Mingyu, taking advantage of the distraction, nabs another fry from your plate. There are almost none left now. As Jun reaches out to make another attempt, you slap his hand away with a swift motion.

"But he—" Jun starts to protest.

"Boyfriend privileges," Mingyu interjects smoothly, popping the last two fries into his mouth with a triumphant grin.

You hear a collective groan from the others at the table, but you just chuckle at Mingyu’s proud expression. "Mhm, boyfriend privileges," you repeat softly, unable to suppress a smile.

You lift a hand to gently brush the hair out of Mingyu's face, and he looks at you with a loving smile that makes your heart flutter. The warm feeling in your stomach is more than just the satisfaction from the delicious food you've eaten.

"Can I finish telling my story now?" Chan interrupts, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

You pull your gaze away from Mingyu and refocus on Chan, giving him your full attention once again. "Go on," you say, eager to hear the rest of his tale.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 4. Seeing you first thing in the morning

The feeling of someone's soft breaths feathering against your face makes you scrunch your nose in sleepy annoyance. Mingyu's warm hands travel to your waist with the familiarity of someone who’s done it a million times before. And he has. His touch is intimate and assured, sliding over your skin with practiced ease. He knows you're awake now, evident by the low hum you let out, so he presses a few tender kisses on the bare skin of your clavicle, each one like a gentle spark of warmth.

"G'morning," you mutter, your voice still heavy with sleep, the words blending into a sigh.

"Good morning," he whispers softly, his breath tickling your skin.

You recognize his morning voice—his "I just woke up" voice—so you can tell he’s been up for a while. His voice sounds clearer, more alert, like he’s had time to turn around and take a sip of the water he always leaves on his bedside table.

"Have you been awake for long?" you ask, your words barely above a whisper as his lips continue their gentle exploration, each kiss a tender reminder of his affection.

"Since eight-thirty," he answers between kisses, each one a delicate attempt to keep you as close as possible.

You glance at the clock, seeing that it's almost nine already. "Babe, you've been awake for half an hour... why didn’t you wake me up?"

Mingyu pauses his kisses to look up at you, his expression soft and affectionate, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion. Turning his head slightly, he looks over at the clock and hums thoughtfully.

"I was busy," he says with a playful glint in his eyes. He nestles his head back in the crook of your neck, his warmth enveloping you, but doesn’t resume his kisses, much to your dismay.

"Busy doing what?" you murmur, curiosity piqued, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his back.

"Looking at you," he admits with a giggle, lifting his head to meet your eyes. His gaze is filled with affection, his eyes sparkling with sincerity, and he's trying his best to hold back a big grin. "It's my boyfriend privilege. Only I get to see you like this."

"It's a privilege to see my bed head?" You snort, but Mingyu stays serious, his eyes unwavering, his hand gently stroking your cheek.

"Everyday," he replies softly, his voice a tender caress.

You feel a rush of warmth at his words, and you can't help but smile. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer for a soft, lingering kiss. His lips are warm and inviting, the kiss deepening with the love and tenderness that has grown between you over the months. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, intimate moment.

When you finally pull back, Mingyu's eyes are half-lidded, his expression content and serene. He gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek, his touch light and loving. "I love these quiet mornings with you," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your soul.

"Me too," you whisper back, your heart swelling with affection, your eyes locked with his.

You snuggle closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly. The world outside can wait a little longer as you bask in the warmth of each other's presence, the quiet intimacy of the morning making everything else fade away. Mingyu's hands continue their gentle caresses, his fingers tracing soft lines over your skin. You feel utterly cherished, each touch and kiss a testament to the love you share. The gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his body against yours create a cocoon of contentment that you never want to leave.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 5. Showing you off

"Gyu!" you shout from the bathroom, "What time is it?"

The sound of his long steps come closer and closer until the bathroom door pushes open. Mingyu's head peeks through the gap in the door, and smiles as soon as he sees you. You're wearing the new dress he bought you, the cute sundress that couldn't help himself from buying when he saw you looking at it.

"You're pretty," he murmurs and slinks into the bathroom.

He wraps his arms around you, your back relaxing into his chest. "Mingyu," you repeat.

"What?" He pulls his eyes away from the dress to meet your eyes.

"What time is it?" you ask again with a teasing smile.

"Oh, it's around three-thirty." His hands find your waist. "We should leave in half an hour."

You nod and start packing up your make up. "Good, I think I'm done anyway... do you think I look okay?"

Mingyu lets go of you, spinning you around to face him. You can only grin while he studies you carefully with his lips pursed and his eyebrows furrowed in focus. After a few seconds, he nods—satisfied with what he's seen.

"Perfect." He puts his hand right below your jaw, careful not to disturb the make up on your face. "You look perfect, baby."

His smile remains radiant as you arrive at his family's get-together, a constant beam of joy that lights up the entire evening. Mingyu keeps you close, his arm possessively yet gently wrapped around you, presenting you to the members of his family you haven't yet met. Every introduction is accompanied by a glowing remark about you, his voice brimming with pride. You feel like a movie star at a film premiere—the constant pampering, the way his eyes sparkle every time he looks at you, and the sneaky photos he snaps when he thinks you're not looking.

Mingyu can't seem to stop showering you with compliments. "This is my partner," he says, beaming, as he introduces you to yet another relative. "They're incredible, you know. Smart, kind, and absolutely stunning." He turns his head to you, trying to contain his big smile by biting down on his bottom lip.

You blush, murmuring polite responses, but his praise never ceases. It's in the way he looks at you, eyes full of adoration, and the way he never lets go of your hand, his thumb occasionally brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture.

Throughout the evening, Mingyu is a constant presence by your side, his touch grounding you amidst the whirlwind of social interactions. His family is warm and welcoming, their smiles genuine as they embrace you into their fold. The air is filled with laughter and conversation, the smell of delicious food wafting through the house, creating an atmosphere of warmth and togetherness.

Mingyu’s playful nature shines through as he snaps candid photos of you, his grin widening each time you catch him in the act. "You’re just too beautiful not to capture," he explains with a cheeky smile, earning a soft laugh from you.

As the night progresses, you find yourself growing more and more flustered under the weight of his unending compliments. Yet, there's a thrill in it—a heady mixture of embarrassment and joy at being the center of his universe. His family notices, and they tease him gently about his lovesick behavior, but it only makes him hold you closer, whispering sweet nothings in your ear that make your heart flutter.

By the time the evening winds down, you’re overwhelmed with affection, feeling cherished and adored in a way that leaves you breathless. The warmth of Mingyu’s family, combined with his constant praise and tender glances, has wrapped you in a cocoon of love and contentment. As you prepare to leave, Mingyu wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close for a tender kiss on your temple, his lips lingering just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Thank you for coming with me tonight," he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with genuine gratitude. "You made everything perfect."

You smile, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your own. "Thank you for taking me along... I don't think I've seen you like this before," you admit, your voice a gentle whisper in the quiet of the night.

"What do you mean?" He cocks his head, his eyes curious and endearing, making you laugh softly at his obliviousness.

"You were trying to show me off all night," you explain, a playful note in your voice. Seeing his slightly worried expression, you quickly add, "It was sweet, Gyu. Really, it was."

Relief floods his features, and he leans in to press a kiss on your lips. The kiss is soft, lingering a second longer than it should, filling you with a warmth that spreads through your entire body. "It's my boyfriend privilege to get to show you off," he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection.

You groan playfully, rolling your eyes at his words as he starts giggling, the sound infectious and heartwarming. Taking your hand in his, he leads you to the cab he's ordered to take you home. The night air is cool and refreshing, a gentle breeze rustling through the trees, but Mingyu's hand in yours keeps you warm.

As you approach the cab, he pauses for a moment, turning to look at you with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. "You know," he says softly, brushing a stray hair from your face, "You should wear that dress more often."

"Oh yeah?"

Your breath catches in your throat at his words as he pulls you into a tight embrace. "Yeah," he whispers.

With one last lingering kiss, you both get into the cab, his arm never leaving your shoulders. As the city lights blur past the window, you lean into Mingyu, feeling his warmth envelop you.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 6. A shoulder to cry on

When you enter the apartment, none of the lights are turned on. You worked late that day, but not so late that Mingyu would've gone to sleep already. The apartment is eerily quiet, devoid of the usual warmth and liveliness. Toeing off your shoes and putting away your outerwear in their rightful places, you start to wonder if he's not home. He usually texts you when he gets home, but you haven't received any messages.

Concern etches between your brows as you walk further into the apartment. The kitchen is spotless, with no pots or pans on the stove—not that you always expect Mingyu to cook, but he had told you earlier today that he'd have something ready for you when you got home. You open the fridge, finding it just as you left it this morning. The absence of any signs of recent activity deepens your worry.

As you pass the bathroom by the guest room, you flick on the lights, casting a warm glow to see the path to your shared bedroom. By the ajar door, you notice a piece of fabric slumped together on the floor. Picking it up, you realize it's Mingyu's jacket. You drape it over your arm and continue to the bedroom, your heart pounding with unease.

He's not there, but you see that the light in your bathroom is on, a soft glow seeping through the cracks in the door. You place his jacket on the edge of the bed before approaching the bathroom door, only to find it locked.

You knock softly, pressing your ear against the door. "Mingyu, I'm home... are you okay?"

"I'm okay, baby," he replies, but his voice is thick with tears. "Sorry, I didn't have time to make you dinner... I think there's some leftovers from yesterday."

"Please, open the door." Ignoring his suggestion about dinner, you grab the door handle. "I can hear that you're not okay."

You hear him sigh, and his footsteps approach the door. Stepping back, you wait as the door swings open. The first thing you see is his bloodshot eyes and red nose. He sniffles and looks away, trying to hide his vulnerability.

"I'm..." He hesitates, torn between lying and being honest.

Before he can decide, you engulf him in a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. "Oh, baby..."

The dam breaks as a sob bubbles up Mingyu's throat, a raw, heart-wrenching sound that shatters the silence. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hot tears streaming down his cheeks and soaking into your shirt. You can feel the wet warmth of his tears spreading, a tangible sign of his anguish.

You rub his back soothingly, your hand moving in slow, comforting circles. Each sob wracks his body, causing his shoulders to tremble violently. His fingers clutch at your shirt, holding on as if he might drown without this anchor.

Minutes pass, each one heavy with his sorrow, until finally, his sobs begin to subside. His shoulders stop shaking, and his breathing slowly evens out, though occasional hiccups still break through. Only then do you loosen your embrace, though you don't fully let go. Instead, you gently take his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that cling to his skin. His eyes are red and swollen, filled with a mixture of lingering sadness and gratitude.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask softly.

"...can I tell you later? I'll start crying again if I tell you now." He lets out a choked laugh, trying to relieve the tension, but your frown remains.

"Okay. Let's get you cleaned up."

You gently wipe away Mingyu’s tears, your thumb brushing over his cheeks with tender care. His skin is warm and damp, his eyes still glistening with the remnants of his sorrow. Your touch is gentle and reassuring as you guide him to change into more comfortable clothes. You help him out of his work attire, unbuttoning his shirt with careful fingers, and replacing it with a soft, worn-in t-shirt that brings him comfort. Each movement is deliberate, designed to soothe and calm him. You then help him into a pair of loose, cozy sweatpants, ensuring he's enveloped in softness and warmth.

Once he’s settled, you guide him to the couch in the living room, your arm around his waist, supporting his slow and heavy movements. The weight of his exhaustion is impossible to miss, his shoulders slumped and his steps dragging. He collapses onto the couch with a weary sigh, sinking into the cushions as if they might absorb some of his burden.

You start to leave for the kitchen, intending to get him something to eat or drink, but he grabs your hand. His grip is firm yet desperate, his fingers curling around yours with a silent plea for you to stay.

You turn back to him, your heart aching at the sight of his vulnerable expression. Mingyu looks up at you, his eyes wide and filled with a mixture of fear and need. "Don't leave," he whispers.

"I'm going to heat up some leftovers," you explain. "You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

Mingyu shakes his head no and lets go of your hand. You feel his eyes on you as you walk around the kitchen, quickly putting something together. It's not fancy, and it's nothing like what he usually makes you, but it's enough for the two of you right now.

When you return to his side, you give him his bowl before settling down next to him. You eat in silence, letting Mingyu sit as close to you as he pleases. When you're done, you take the dishes to the kitchen. Although you want him to sit still and rest, he follows you—his arms wrapped around your waist the entire time.

It's hard to move around, but you don't complain. Soon enough, the dishes are done and you're back on the couch. Mingyu has his arms wrapped tightly around you as you lay on top of him.

"Thank you," he mutters.

"You don't have to thank me." You lean up to look him in the eye. "Me taking care of you is your boyfriend privilege."

He smiles and presses a chaste kiss on your lips before closing his eyes. The two of you end up falling asleep on the couch on accident. But your stiff body is worth it when you get to see Mingyu smiling at you the next morning.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 7. A shoulder to nap on

On the flight back home from a much-needed vacation, Mingyu booked the two of you first-class seats. It was partly because he loves spoiling you, but also so you could sleep comfortably on the way home. The plush seats and extra legroom were a perfect idea, promising a restful journey, but right now, that comfort feels like a far-off dream.

The flight was delayed by a few hours, leaving you and Mingyu stuck at the gate. The airport buzzes with the quiet hum of late-night travelers, the occasional announcement crackling over the PA system. The two of you sit in the lounge, surrounded by weary passengers slumped in their chairs, eyes glazed with fatigue. The smell of coffee and cleaning agents lingers in the air, mingling with the soft rustle of newspapers and the muted clatter of luggage wheels.

Mingyu tries to make the best of the situation, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. His warmth seeps into you, a soothing balm against the weariness. "Just a little longer," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Despite the delay, his presence is a comforting anchor in the sea of exhaustion, his voice a soft murmur that calms your racing thoughts.

You glance at the clock, the minutes ticking by slowly. The soft lighting of the lounge casts a warm glow, but it does little to chase away the tiredness settling into your bones. Mingyu's fingers trace soothing patterns on your arm, his touch gentle and reassuring, each stroke a silent promise of love and comfort.

"I can't wait to be home in my bed," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with exhaustion.

Mingyu leans his head on your shoulder, his soft hair brushing against your cheek as he closes his eyes with a contented sigh. The weight and warmth of his head against your shoulder provide an unexpected comfort, grounding you in the moment. "This is enough for me," he says softly, his breath warm and reassuring against your skin.

"My shoulder?" you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice, feeling the vibration of his chuckle through the closeness.

"Yes," he replies, his tone earnest and affectionate. His closeness feels intimate and safe, a bubble of tranquility amidst the chaos of the airport.

"And why should I let you have my shoulder?" you tease, a smile tugging at your lips as you relish the closeness.

"Boyfriend privileges," he replies matter-of-factly, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. The slight pressure of his lips against your skin sends a wave of warmth through you.

You sigh, a mixture of amusement and tenderness filling your heart. The playful banter and the sincere love in his voice make your heart swell. You tilt your head to rest against his, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. The world around you fades into a comforting blur, the distant chatter of the airport and the mechanical hum of the environment becoming mere background noise.

For a moment, it's just the two of you, wrapped in each other's warmth and love. His presence is a cocoon of safety and affection, and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax fully in his embrace. The gentle rhythm of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart, and the soft, warm pressure of his head against yours create a symphony of comfort that lulls you into a peaceful state.

Your peace is soon interrupted, however. Finally, the boarding announcement crackles through the speakers, breaking the heavy silence of anticipation and sparking a collective sigh of relief that ripples through the gate area. The weariness of the long wait begins to lift as passengers gather their belongings. Mingyu helps you gather your things, his hand never leaving yours as you make your way to the boarding line. His touch is a reassuring anchor, grounding you amidst the bustling crowd.

"Almost there," Mingyu whispers, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Thank goodness," you reply, offering him a tired smile.

The atmosphere shifts as you step onto the jet bridge, a mix of excitement and fatigue hanging in the air. The cool, conditioned air of the plane greets you as you board, offering a welcome contrast to the stuffy terminal. The flight attendants greet you with warm smiles, guiding you toward the plush sanctuary of first class.

Settling into your spacious seats, the world outside begins to fade away. The soft cushions envelop you in comfort, and the generous legroom allows you to stretch out and relax. Mingyu stows your carry-ons in the overhead compartment with ease, his movements fluid and practiced.

As he sits down beside you, the overhead lights cast a gentle glow. "This is so much better," you murmur.

Mingyu smiles, reaching over to adjust your blanket, tucking it around you with a tenderness that melts your heart. "I told you it would be worth the wait," he says softly, his eyes filled with affection.

You can't help but smile at the thought of curling up next to him, the hum of the plane's engines a soothing backdrop. "You always know how to spoil me," you whisper, leaning into his touch.

"It's my favorite thing to do," he replies, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Besides, you deserve it."

As the plane takes off, you lean into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. The world outside the window shrinks to a distant blur, and you close your eyes, surrendering to the warmth of his embrace.

"Thank you, Gyu," you murmur, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

"For what?" he asks, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"For everything. For this. For you," you whisper, your words trailing off as sleep begins to claim you.

"Always," he replies softly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your arm. "Sleep well, my love."

Wrapped in the comfort of his love and care, you drift off, the promise of restful sleep finally within reach. The gentle touch of his fingers lulls you into a peaceful slumber

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 8. Lunch boxes

When someone called out for lunchtime, the members collectively let out a big sigh of relief. With tired limbs, they make their way to the cafeteria. While everyone else lines up to buy something, Mingyu heads straight to the fridge and retrieves a carefully prepared meal. He sits down at a table, placing the metal box with a wooden lid in front of him. A pink, stretchy band adorned with tiny red strawberries holds the spoon in place. His face lights up with a smile as he spots the small note on the lid.

Hope practice is going well! I know you're working hard, so please enjoy your lunch and eat well! Can't wait for you to come home♡(>ᴗ•)

Mingyu carefully folds the pink post-it and tucks it into his phone case, a cherished reminder of your thoughtfulness. By then, people have started sitting down beside him, their eyes subtly glancing at the box in front of him. Nobody says anything—they already know what it is—until he opens it.

Inside the box is a beautifully arranged Korean lunchbox. The main compartment holds perfectly steamed white rice, topped with a sprinkling of black sesame seeds. Nestled beside it is a portion of crispy fried chicken, golden brown and glistening with a light coating of sweet and spicy sauce. The other sections are filled with a variety of colorful banchan: neatly sliced kimchi, lightly seasoned spinach, sweet and tangy pickled radish, and tender strips of stir-fried beef bulgogi. There’s even a small section of rolled omelette, its yellow hue bright and inviting.

The delicious aroma wafts up, drawing envious glances from his fellow members. The savory scent of fried chicken and the tangy hint of kimchi fill the air, making everyone's mouths water.

"Did Y/N make you another lunchbox?" Seokmin asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yeah, they were working from home yesterday, so they had some extra time on their hands," Mingyu replies, a small smile playing on his lips as he inspects the beautifully arranged food.

"It's not fair that only you get homemade lunches from Y/N!" Seungkwan whines, his tone a mix of genuine envy and playful teasing.

Mingyu responds by sticking his tongue out at Seungkwan, making the younger man groan in exasperation. "Boyfriend privileges," Mingyu states proudly, his grin widening.

As he digs in, Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, savoring the flavors and the love that went into preparing his meal. The meat is perfectly seasoned, the rice fluffy, and the banchan vibrant and flavorful. Each bite is a reminder of your care and effort, making the meal taste even better. The members watch with a mix of admiration and envy as Mingyu enjoys his lunch.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 9. Bath buddy

As you walk the last bit to the door of your apartment building, you notice a figure in the distance. A tall man, vaguely boyfriend-shaped, waving both of his arms over his head with enthusiasm. Your heart skips a beat, and your smile matches Mingyu's as you break into a run, closing the gap between you. He’s sweaty from the gym, his skin glistening in the fading light, but you don’t mind. You launch yourself into his embrace, pressing yourself as close as possible, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort of his body.

"Are you trying to squeeze me to death?" he asks jokingly, his voice vibrating against your ear.

You loosen your grip slightly, looking up at him with a soft smile. "You have no idea how much I've missed you today."

Instead of teasing you, Mingyu gently pats your head, his fingers threading through your hair with a comforting touch. He sees the weariness in your eyes and the way your hair seems to stick out in all the wrong places, evidence of a long, hard day. "Bad day, hun?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

The moment he speaks, you feel your guard drop completely. Your lips naturally fall into a pout, and your hands grip the material of his shirt a little tighter. You nod, unable to find the words to describe the exhaustion you feel. Mingyu coos at you softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment, offering silent comfort. He then guides you to the door, his hand resting on the small of your back, a steadying presence.

"Do you want to take a bath with me?" he asks as he opens the door for you, his voice gentle and soothing.

"Okay," you murmur.

Once inside, the apartment feels like a sanctuary, the chaos of the outside world fading away as the door clicks shut behind you. The familiar scent of home, mingled with Mingyu's comforting presence, immediately begins to soothe your frazzled nerves. He leads you to the bathroom, his touch a constant, reassuring anchor as he guides you down the softly lit hallway. The gentle hum of the apartment envelops you, creating a cocoon of tranquility.

In the bathroom, Mingyu starts running the bath, the sound of water filling the room like a calming symphony. You watch as he carefully adds your favorite bath salts, the granules dissolving into the warm water and releasing a soothing aroma. The scent of lavender and chamomile fills the air, creating a spa-like atmosphere that begins to unwind the knots of tension coiled within you.

Mingyu helps you undress with tender, loving movements, his touch feather-light yet filled with purpose. His fingers trace the contours of your body with a delicate touch, each gesture a silent reassurance of his love and care. The way his hands glide over your skin, unhurried and gentle, sends a wave of warmth through you, dispelling the day’s weariness.

He sheds his own clothes with practiced ease, the fabric slipping off his toned frame effortlessly. The sight of his familiar form, strong and comforting, brings a sense of security and warmth. His skin, slightly glistening from the exertion of the day, catches the soft light, highlighting the lines of his muscles and the contours of his body. There's a serene beauty in the way he moves, each action unhurried and filled with quiet confidence.

Stepping into the bath first, Mingyu eases himself into the steaming water with a sigh of contentment, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water. He settles into the tub, the water enveloping him like a warm embrace. His eyes, inviting and filled with affection, lock onto yours as he extends his hand towards you. The look in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent invitation wrapped in love and intimacy.

You take his hand, feeling the warmth and strength in his grip as he helps you into the tub. The water envelops you in a gentle embrace, its warmth soothing your tired muscles. You settle between his legs, leaning back against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting lullaby against your back.

As you relax into his embrace, Mingyu's arms wrap around you, holding you close. His hands begin to gently massage your shoulders, his fingers working out the knots of tension with skillful precision. The sensation is both relaxing and intimate, his touch a balm to your weary soul. You close your eyes, surrendering to the moment, feeling the stress of the day melt away under his tender ministrations.

The soft glow of the bathroom light casts a golden hue over everything, enhancing the sense of intimacy and warmth. Shadows dance along the walls, creating a serene and almost magical ambiance. The only sounds are the gentle sloshing of water and the occasional sigh of contentment from both of you.

"I love you," you whisper, your voice soft and content.

"I love you too," he replies, his lips brushing against your ear.

You stay like that for a while, the water lapping gently around you, the only sounds the occasional drip from the faucet and the steady rhythm of Mingyu's breathing. It’s a perfect moment of peace and connection, wrapped in the comfort and love that only he can provide.

After a few minutes, Mingyu shifts slightly behind you, his movements gentle yet purposeful. "Can you wash my hair?" he asks softly, his voice laced with a boyish charm that makes your heart flutter.

You smile, turning slightly to look at him, your eyes meeting his. "Of course," you reply, your voice warm and affectionate.

He hands you the shampoo, and you pour a generous amount into your palm. Mingyu dips his head back into the water, wetting his hair thoroughly before leaning forward to give you better access. The rich, lathering scent of his shampoo fills the air, mingling with the soothing aromas of the bath salts, creating a calming symphony of fragrances.

Your fingers work through his hair, massaging his scalp with gentle, circular motions. The silky strands slip through your fingers, and you take your time, ensuring each section of his hair is coated with the fragrant lather. Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, his eyes closing as he leans into your touch, his body visibly relaxing under your ministrations.

"This feels amazing," he murmurs, his voice a low, relaxed hum that sends shivers down your spine.

You smile, continuing your careful work. "You deserve it," you say softly. "It's your boyfriend privilege, isn't it?"

Mingyu chuckles, the sound a soft, comforting vibration against your chest. Before he can respond, you pick up the shower head, adjusting the temperature before gently rinsing out the shampoo. Tilting his head back with a gentle hand, you let the warm water cascade through his hair, washing away the suds and leaving his hair clean and soft.

He leans back against you once more, his hair damp and silky against your skin. His eyes are half-lidded with contentment, a serene smile playing on his lips. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice filled with gratitude and affection.

"Anytime," you reply, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. The warmth of the water and the intimacy of the moment create a cocoon around you, shutting out the rest of the world. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, a steady, reassuring rhythm that syncs with your own. Mingyu's hands rest gently on your arms, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin as you both bask in the tranquility of the bath.

The two of you stay like that, cocooned in warmth, the soft glow of the bathroom light casting a golden hue over everything. The sounds of the water and your synchronized breathing create a peaceful ambiance.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 10. Tie-fixer

You were already in your pajamas, nestled comfortably in bed with your book, when Mingyu walked in, still dressed in his suit but without his tie. The crisp white shirt accentuated his broad shoulders, and the slight dishevelment of his attire made him look irresistibly charming. His hair was slightly tousled, a few strands falling over his forehead, adding to his effortlessly handsome appearance. He didn't have to say anything; the moment your eyes met his, you were already putting your book to the side and swinging your legs out of bed, the anticipation of helping him a welcome routine.

"Where's your tie?" you ask, a hint of amusement in your voice, tilting your head slightly.

Mingyu pulls the piece of fabric from his pocket and hands it to you, a weary yet appreciative smile playing on his lips. The tie is cool and smooth in your hands, its silk gliding between your fingers. Rising to your feet, you step close to him, your fingers deftly slipping the tie around his neck. The familiar action feels intimate, almost like a ritual between the two of you, a small moment of connection in your busy lives.

As you slowly begin to tie it, your fingers working methodically, you glance up at him. "How long is the event?" you ask, your voice soft and caring, eyes meeting his with genuine concern.

"I probably won't be home until after two," he says with a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as the weight of his long night ahead settles in. The lines of fatigue on his face tug at your heart.

"It's okay. I want you to have fun," you murmur, focusing on the tie but feeling the sincerity of your words. "I'll be busy with dinner and my book anyway."

Mingyu watches you, his eyes softening as he takes in your familiar, comforting presence. "I wish you could come with me," he says quietly, his hands gently resting on your hips as you finish tying the knot. His touch is warm and grounding, a silent promise of his affection.

You tighten the tie and smooth it down, patting his chest gently. "You know I'd love to, but someone's got to hold down the fort here," you reply jokingly, your smile warm and reassuring.

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich, resonating in the quiet of the room. He leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin. "What would I do without you?" he murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and love.

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a warm embrace. "Let's not find out," you whisper, your cheek pressed against his, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours.

Mingyu hugs you tightly, savoring the closeness, the scent of his cologne mingling with the comforting smell of home. When he finally pulls back, he looks down at you with a mix of love and reluctance. "I really should go," he says, though he doesn't make a move to leave just yet.

"I know," you reply, your fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, tucking it back into place. "You'll be amazing, as always."

"Mm, especially with such a well-tied tie," he smiles playfully at you, his eyes twinkling with affection. "I'm so lucky for my boyfriend privilege."

You chuckle softly, resting your hands on his chest. "Yes, you're very privileged," you tease. "Just remember that when you're out there charming everyone."

Mingyu grins, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. "How could I forget? My number one fan is waiting for me at home."

You roll your eyes, but your smile is fond. "Just don't let it go to your head."

He laughs, the sound warm and rich. "No promises... I'll miss you," he says, his voice softening as he cups your face in his hands.

"I'll miss you too," you reply, covering his hands with yours.

He gives you one last lingering kiss, his lips warm and tender against yours, a promise of his return. "I'll try to be back as soon as I can," he promises, his voice filled with genuine affection, his hand squeezing yours gently.

"I'll be waiting," you say softly, watching as he finally turns to leave, the door clicking shut behind him. The room feels a little emptier without him, but you return to bed, your book waiting patiently. For a moment, you just sit there, feeling the lingering warmth of his presence and the subtle ache of his absence, already looking forward to his return.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ ... 11?

The winter chill had settled in, but the warmth of Valentine's Day wrapped the city in a blanket of love and excitement. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of snow, mingling with the fragrance of roses that seemed to bloom on every corner. Everywhere you looked, couples were bundled up in cozy scarves and gloves, holding hands, sharing tender smiles, and exchanging sweet nothings. The city streets were transformed into a romantic wonderland, with heart-shaped lights casting a soft, warm glow on the cobblestone paths, creating a dreamy ambiance that made everything feel just a little more magical.

Mingyu had planned the entire day with meticulous care, wanting to make every moment special for you. The day began with the gentle sound of his voice waking you, and when you opened your eyes, there he was, holding a tray with breakfast in bed—fluffy pancakes drizzled with syrup, topped with fresh berries, and a steaming cup of your favorite coffee. The sweet aroma filled the room, and as you shared the meal, you couldn't help but smile at how perfectly the day had started.

The afternoon was spent strolling through the city, the two of you arm in arm as you visited all your favorite spots. The streets were alive with the hustle and bustle of the holiday, but for you, time seemed to slow down, every moment stretching into something memorable. You laughed over shared memories, pointing out familiar landmarks and reliving inside jokes that only the two of you understood. The cold air bit at your cheeks, but it was no match for the warmth of Mingyu's hand holding yours, or the way his laughter seemed to melt the chill away.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft, golden light over the city, Mingyu surprised you with dinner at the restaurant where you’d had your first date. The sight of the familiar entrance made your heart skip a beat, and when you stepped inside, the ambiance was perfect—low lights that cast a gentle glow over the intimate setting, soft music playing in the background, and a table tucked away in a quiet corner just for the two of you. Mingyu looked absolutely perfect, the flickering candlelight highlighting his features, making his eyes sparkle with a warmth that mirrored the love in your heart.

He was wearing the turtleneck you had gotten him last December, the deep burgundy color standing out beautifully under his sleek black coat. The sight of him, so effortlessly handsome, made you fall in love with him all over again.

The dinner was delicious, every bite savored as you reminisced about that first date and how far you'd come since then. But as the evening went on, you noticed a certain tension in Mingyu—a subtle shift in his demeanor. He was attentive as always, but his hand gripped yours just a little tighter, and his eyes, though filled with affection, seemed to hold something more—an emotion he hadn’t yet put into words.

When dessert was finished and the check was paid, Mingyu suggested a walk through the park. The idea seemed simple, but there was something in his tone that made your heart flutter with anticipation. The park was beautifully decorated for the holiday, with twinkling fairy lights wrapped around the trees and heart-shaped lanterns swaying gently from the branches. The path was dusted with a light layer of snow, which crunched softly underfoot as you walked side by side, the sound mingling with the distant laughter of other couples enjoying the night.

The cold nipped at your nose, but Mingyu’s presence kept you warm. He walked close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours with every step, and as you made your way deeper into the park, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet he had become. His hand, warm and reassuring in yours, was steady, but there was a nervous energy beneath the surface, a sense of something important hanging in the air between you.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the world around you gradually fading into the background as you simply enjoyed being together. The park was peaceful, the night air crisp and clear, with the soft crunch of snow underfoot being the only sound between you. The distant twinkle of lights reflected off the lake's surface, casting a serene, almost magical glow over the scene. The sky above was an expanse of deep navy, dotted with stars that peeked out from behind the clouds, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

As you approached a secluded bench near the lake, Mingyu began to slow down, his footsteps becoming more deliberate. His breath was visible in the cold air, curling upward in soft, white puffs. The quietude around you seemed to intensify, amplifying the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. Mingyu stopped walking and turned to face you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the lights strung up in the trees, making them look like they were sparkling with unshed emotions.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his voice gentle, almost tender, as he pulled you closer. Without waiting for your response, he wrapped his coat around you, his touch protective and warm.

"Not with you here," you replied with a smile, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. But as you looked up at him, you noticed something different, a subtle tension in his expression. "... you're unusually quiet tonight. Is everything okay?"

Mingyu smiled, though there was a trace of nervousness in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability that made your heart skip a beat. "There's something I've been wanting to say all day," he began, his tone serious but laced with affection, each word carefully chosen. "Valentine's Day is all about celebrating love, right?"

You nodded, curiosity piqued, your gaze never leaving his. "Right..."

He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs before he released it slowly, his hands still holding yours, their warmth grounding you both. His expression softened, and the affection in his eyes deepened, becoming almost palpable. "Well, I wanted to celebrate us... You know how I've always said I'm lucky to have boyfriend privileges?" His lips curled into a small, playful smile, the familiar phrase bringing a rush of warmth to your chest. It was an inside joke that had grown between you, a phrase that had come to symbolize the depth of his love.

You laughed lightly, nodding, your heart fluttering. "You've mentioned it a time or two."

"Well," he continued, the playful edge in his voice giving way to something more serious, more profound. His grip on your hands tightened slightly, as if anchoring himself for what he was about to say. "I've been thinking a lot about what that really means. About how much I love you, and how my life has been so much better with you in it. I don't just want boyfriend privileges anymore. I want... something more."

The air around you seemed to still, the world shrinking down to just the two of you. Mingyu's words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you found yourself holding your breath, your heart pounding in anticipation.

"Mingyu... what are you saying?" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you searched his eyes, hoping for confirmation of what you suspected.

"... I want husband privileges," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. The words tumbled out like a secret he had been holding close to his heart, and as they settled between you, the weight of them was almost overwhelming.

Your heart skipped a beat as his words sank in, sending a rush of emotion through your entire being. Before you could fully process what was happening, Mingyu reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. The deep burgundy of the box stood out against the black fabric of his coat, catching the faint light from the lanterns around you. Your breath caught in your throat as he dropped to one knee, the world around you dissolving into a blur. The soft glow of the lights reflected in his eyes, making them shine with a love so intense it took your breath away.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, each word laced with raw emotion. "Will you let me spend the rest of my life loving you, taking care of you, and being your forever? I want to be your husband, not just today, not just tomorrow, but every day for the rest of our lives."

The sincerity in his voice, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly as he held the ring, and the sheer vulnerability in his gaze made tears well up in your eyes. Your hand flew to your mouth in disbelief, your heart pounding in your chest as the magnitude of the moment hit you. The world seemed to stop, the night holding its breath as you looked down at him, his expression filled with hope, love, and adoration.

"Mingyu," you whispered, your voice shaking with emotion, each word carrying the weight of your love for him. "Yes. Of course, I'll marry you!"

The tension in his shoulders melted away as his face broke into the widest smile, relief and joy flooding his features. His eyes sparkled with happiness as he carefully slipped the ring onto your finger, his touch gentle and reverent. The ring was perfect—simple, elegant, and exactly what you would have chosen. It glimmered softly in the light, a tangible symbol of the promise you had just made to each other.

Without hesitation, Mingyu stood up, wrapping you in his arms and lifting you off your feet. He spun you around in a joyful whirl, the cold air forgotten as you both laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet park. The night seemed to come alive with your happiness, the trees around you swaying gently as if to share in your joy.

When he finally set you down, his arms remained around you, pulling you into a kiss. His hands cradled your face, his thumbs gently brushing against your cheeks, his touch warm and steady. The tenderness in his grip made your heart swell, and as he leaned in, you could feel his breath mingling with yours, a soft, shared anticipation hanging in the air. When his lips finally met yours, it was as if time itself slowed. The kiss was soft at first, a delicate, reverent connection that conveyed everything words couldn’t.

But then, it deepened, his lips moving against yours with a slow, purposeful intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Each movement was deliberate, filled with a passion that burned through you, igniting every nerve. His kiss wasn’t just an expression of love—it was a promise, a vow sealed with every ounce of emotion he had been holding back. You could feel his love in the way his hands held you, not too tight, but firm enough that you knew he never wanted to let go.

As his lips molded perfectly against yours, the rest of the world faded into oblivion. The cold night air, the distant sounds of the city, even the twinkling lights around you—all of it dissolved into the background, leaving only the warmth of his kiss, the rapid beat of your heart, and the overwhelming flood of emotion between you. It was as if the two of you existed in your own universe, a moment suspended in time where nothing else mattered.

"I love you," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with reverence and devotion, as if the words were sacred.

Tears still glistening in your eyes, you smiled up at him, your heart bursting with happiness. "I love you too, Mingyu. I hope you're ready for all the husband privileges."

He laughed, the sound rich and full of joy, resonating with the happiness that radiated from him. It was a laugh that spoke of a future filled with love, laughter, and countless more moments like this. He pulled you into another embrace, his arms holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. "This is the best Valentine’s Day of my life," he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion.

"It’s just the beginning, baby," you whispered back, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw as you looked up at him, memorizing every detail of his face, every line that spoke of his love for you.

The two of you stood there in the park, wrapped in each other’s arms as the lights twinkled around you, the cold air nipping at your cheeks but failing to penetrate the warmth that enveloped you both. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a moment that felt like it would last forever.

As you walked back home, hand in hand, the silence between you was filled with contentment and the unspoken promises of what was to come. You couldn’t help but glance down at the ring on your finger. The excitement of what lay ahead filled you with warmth, and as you leaned into Mingyu, you knew that your life together would be filled with endless love, laughter, and, of course, husband privileges.

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[stellawish]

swiss roll

summary: satoru trying to help his son to learn how to roll over genre: fluff, domestic life warnings: none dad!gojo x mom!reader

“Here we go, buddy.” Sitting on the floor in Haru’s nursery, Gojo gently laid his son on his belly. The baby started to wiggle his short legs while looking at the colorful animals printed on the mattress.

Satoru began to gently massage the baby’s small back. Using rubbing motions with his hands, he drew a line from the shoulders to the lower back. In response, Haru started babbling.

The contrast between your son's small back and Gojo's large hands looked comical. Watching this, you giggled.

As first-time parents, you are always learning and seeking new information, whether from books or various websites.

Recently, you caught Satoru watching a tutorial video. "Massage helps strengthen the back muscles and aids in digestion," said the woman in the video about helping your baby learn to roll over.

Satoru continued with the same gentle movements of his thumbs, drawing lines in opposite directions as he moved lower.

When he finished, he turned the baby onto his back and said in a mock-serious voice, "Now the real training begins. This time, don’t expect any mercy."

Your 4-month-old boy showed his gummy smile, and unable to resist, Satoru kissed his son’s round cheek.

Your husband took Haru's short legs and lifted them into the air, directing them towards his tummy. Then he lowered them down and repeated the movement again.

You were lying next to them on your side, resting your hand under your head and watching the scene with a broad smile. “By the way, Toru, Megumi texted me and said they’ve arrived.”

Megumi and his friends went to summer camp for a few weeks. When he first told you about this plan, both you and Gojo were surprised, as Megumi isn’t very social and prefers spending time alone.

So, his decision to attend summer camp delighted both of you. “I’m glad he’s opening up and coming out of his shell,” you said.

“They’re good kids,” Gojo added.

“There's a great spot nearby that sells some awesome strawberry Swiss rolls. I should get him to bring some home.”

You watches him simultaneously lifting the little boy by his arms and placing him in a sitting position. Satoru read somewhere that such activities strengthen the baby’s muscles and help them learn to roll over independently.

“There you go, little one.” As he turned Haru onto his back, Satoru tickled the baby’s neck, making him wiggle.

Next, your husband, carefully supporting the baby’s side, flipped him onto his tummy and then back onto his back, repeating the action once more.

For the last time, Gojo exaggeratedly sighed and, in a playful manner, said, “Good job, buddy. You did great.” He praised his son. “Now tell me, where did you get your athleticism from, hmm?”

You giggled. “You, my little Swiss roll.” Gojo tickled the baby’s belly and blew raspberries, causing Haru to wiggle and giggle.

Satoru decided to spare the baby and pulled away with a big smile. “Okay, now which book do you want to read today?”

He flipped Haru back onto his tummy and stood up while you gently stroked the baby’s back.

Gojo chose a book and lay down on the other side of Haru. He opened the first page and placed the colorful interactive book in front of his son, encouraging him to explore it.

You stretched your left arm out and accidentally pressed a toy, which squeaked “meow.”

This distracted Haru from the book, and he turned his head toward you. Unable to find the source of the sound, he tucked his right arm underneath himself and, lifting his plump left thigh, ended up on his back.

You and Gojo looked at each other in shock, questions in your eyes. “Did you see that?” your lips stretched into identical smiles. “Oh, my baby, what a good boy. Can you do that again, hmm?” You both began to shower your chubby little one with kisses, eliciting his laughter and making his cheeks rosy.

While you all cuddled together, praising your little one, you locked eyes with Satoru. Despite the genuine joy for your son’s first victory, you saw the reflection of your own thoughts in his eyes: Don’t grow up too fast, son.

more dad!gojo HERE

all rights reserved ©stellawish. do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

[auggieblogs]

freckle kisses ֶָ֢ | MV1

Max Verstappen x fem! reader

Author's note: Hello, lovelies!!! I hope everyone is doing good. This fic has been in my drafts for a while now and I finally had the motivation to edit it today. The Max brainrot is very real, I cannot stop thinking about his little freckle. He is so beautiful🥹. Anyways, I hope you all like this piece. Happy reading<3

ALSO fun fact, I have a freckle that's right below my lower lip jshshdjdhs I don't know I think it's a sign!!! (im delusional)

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

Max was used to the routine. Before the haze of sleep fully left him every morning, he would feel the soft, warm press of her lips against the tiny freckle on his upper lip. It was her unique ritual, a habit she had never skipped, and he had come to adore.

As the sun streamed through the blinds of their bedroom, she stirred beside him, her eyes fluttering open. Without missing a beat, she leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on his freckle. Max smiled, his heart swelling with love.

"Morning, love," he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep.

"Morning, Maxie," she replied, her voice light and cheerful.

Every day followed this pattern. Whether Max was leaving for a race, taking a break between practice sessions, or they were about to make love, her lips always found that freckle. It was her little act of love, and Max never questioned it. He cherished it

One lazy Sunday afternoon, they were lounging in their living room, a movie playing in the background. She lay on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat. Max absentmindedly played with her hair, occasionally pressing soft kisses to her forehead. She sighed contentedly, snuggling closer.

Max felt her shift slightly, and there it was again. Her lips met his freckle in a gentle kiss before trailing a line of kisses up to his lips. "I love you," she mumbled softly against his skin.

"I love you too," Max replied, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

He paused momentarily, a curious look crossing his face, "Why do you always kiss my freckle?"

She looked up at him with a shy smile, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "It's silly," she said.

Max tilted her chin up gently, his eyes searching hers. "It’s not stupid if it’s something you do," he said softly. "Tell me, please."

She took a deep breath before explaining, "Well, my mom used to tell me that freckles or moles are spots where lovers used to kiss you in past lives. She said they’re like beauty marks, little reminders of love."

Max's expression softened, a tender smile spreading across his face. "That's beautiful," he said, his voice filled with genuine emotion.

She laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. "I told you it was silly."

"It's not silly," Max replied, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles gently, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's one of the sweetest things I've ever heard. And I love you for it."

Her heart swelled with love as she looked at him, feeling incredibly lucky to have someone like Max in her life. "I love you too," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight. They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, the movie long forgotten.

Max chuckled softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "So, every time you kiss that freckle, it’s like you’re saying hello to my past lovers?" he teased.

She laughed, playfully swatting his chest. "Or maybe it’s just my way of marking my territory," she quipped back.

Max laughed, the sound rich and joyful. "Well, consider it marked," he said, leaning down to capture her lips in a loving kiss.

[youreverydayfangirl]

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO

pairing: max verstappen x singer reader

summary: the one where she's gone radio silent, everyone settles down and someone begins to plot revenge

warning: online hate, mentions of cheating

a/n: i thought i should switch between real life and online so i could feed you guys more

face claim: sabrina carpenter

f1 masterlist

main masterilst

series masterlist

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm and 18 others

y/nsprivate healing with my girls

tagged: thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospamm

thatoneartgirlalex what are friends for???

-> y/nsprivate I THOUGH JUST BEING HOT TBH

keekslikestospammmm and you better get your cute but downstairs cause we're going out

-> y/nsprivate OKAYY GIVE ME TWO SECONDS

leosfather GO QUEEN

-> y/nsprivate alex is training you i see

livbereallydumb SMASH SMASH SMASH

-> y/nsprivate me whenever i see you

itssabrinaaa YOU DON'T NEED NO TINY DICK MAN AND SKANKY FRIEND

-> y/nsprivate 😭😭😭

________________

Y/n felt a small smile creep up across her face as she went to turn off her phone. She looked up at the warm sun which had begun to set, casting a golden glow along the beach infront of her. The peaceful quiet of the beach was a sharp contrast to the chaos and heartache she had left behind. Still, it had been hard to stay in the moment and she often found her mind drifting back to everything that had happened. Something that seemed to play over and over in her head. Although it seemed everyone else had moved on.

She'd barely touched her phone, forced to reinvent herself and tune out what others had kept saying about her. The whispers, the hate and the betrayal had gone with a swipe of her finger. But the sting of it lingered, a wound that refused to heal.

She quickly grabbed her stuff and shoved it in the bag which lay beside her feet as her mind went to the two girls who were currently waiting in the lobby. They had been rocks for her through this whole ordeal. The trip was supposed to be a fresh start for y/n, a place to forget, but somethings weren't so easily buried.

Y/n hadn't been able to fully trust anyone since exbsf had turned her life upside down. The breakup, the voice recording, it was all too perfect.

Revenge is what had kept circling through Y/ns mind over the past few months. A lot of people had hurt her, turned against her, but their was one person specifically that Y/n kept thinking about. Maybe she wasn’t healing just yet. Maybe she was plotting her rise.

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm and 18 others

y/nsprivate not even sad anymore guys, just really mad tbh

tagged: thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospamm

thatoneartgirlalex AND AS YOU SHOULD YOU CLOCK EM

-> y/nsprivate you know i will

keekslikestospamm NEW SONG YOU BETTER SHOW US SOON

-> y/nsprivate trust me i will

________________

Y/n found her self sitting infront of the piano for the first time since everything had come out. She hadn't wanted to, because that would mean that it was real.

But after pushing from both Alex and Kika, the girl finally felt like she was in a spot were she could poor out her feelings. But something felt different this time, she had never felt this angry before.

She sat at her desk, the sunset infront of her casted a shadow across her face. Her notebook was open, was scribbled sharply expressing her inner turmoil. She tapped her pen on her desk, staring at the page infront of her, one line sticking out specifically.

All I think about is karma.

exbsf & landonorris have posted

liked by landonorris, f1gossip and 1, 432, 749 others

exbsf 6 months with you <3

tagged: landonorris

landonorris my gorgeous girl

-> exbsf your too cute

user1 I CANT BELIEVE THEYVE BEEN TOGETHER FOR 6 MONTHS OMG

user2 parents frfr

liked by creator

user3 pov its been 5 months since y/n disappeared 😭

-> user4 GOOD RIDDANCE

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm and 18 others

y/nsprivate smiling more

tagged: thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm

thatoneartgirlalex and happy to see it

-> y/nsprivate stop i love you so much

keekslikestospammmm i can still through hands though right?

-> y/nsprivate KEEKS NO

leosfather as your honorary big brother i could not be prouder to see how much you've grown as a person

-> y/nsprivate CHARLIE STOP

livbereallydumb I JUST WANNA GIVE YOU A BIG HUG

-> y/nsprivate you saw me yesterday....

itssabrinaaa livbereallydumb wanna come to portofino with me for no specific reason

-> livbereallydumb already on the flight babes

-> y/nsprivate YOU GUYS BETTER NOT BE KIDDING RIGHT NOW ASSHHH

-> itssabrinaaa SUPRISE

-> livbereallydumb we wanted to make it a bigger thing then realised we dont really know where to go and we dont speak italian

-> itssabrinaaa didnt think that one through 100%

-> y/nsprivate 😭😭😭

TWO WEEKS LATER

________________

im trying to make the parts longer cause i feel like there too short

also do you guys like the switch i feel like i wanna give you guys more than just short SMAU chpaters

_________________

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[fancyfeathers]

Always Prey But Never A Bird

Based on the Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling series

Chapter One -> Next Chapter

“Welcome back from patrol, Miss Songbird, that’s what the press is calling you right?” your boots rang out against the metal floor of the warehouse that you and your so called group of misfits called home, all runaways, all some sort of vigilante, none of you knew each other's real names and nor did you need to, it would just bring back bad memories for most of you and for all of you it gave plausible deniability it anyone ever came looking. You spotted the one you all called Foxglove sitting on one of the couches in the warehouse, she was the one who was talking to you as you walked in. Foxglove is a young woman, your age give or take a few months, long red hair and blue eyes, she was a tall young woman, probably from around Central City from where you could place her voice, but none of that really mattered, the past did not matter, only the here and the now. “Hard night or nah?”

“Not really, I just avoided a run in with Red Robin, he almost spotted me when I was on the Madison Street bridge, I almost crashed my bike trying to avoid him this time.” You spoke to her as you took off your mask, peeling it away from the skin by your eyes. Your suits and gear were gifts from someone you had saved from a hostage situation, a wealthy businessman from Coast City, Mark Austen, he had sponsored your work with no strings attached except a friendly relationship so if you needed help just ask and vise versa with him, he came by every month or so to drop of a shipment of gear and repairs and he did know your nicknames and faces but certainly not your real names, well knew yours due to your paths crossing before but that was another life. You sat down on the couch across from Foxglove, your body falling down with a heavy thump, you would need a replacement soon, you should ask Mark on the next shipment of supplies. You cracked your neck and threw your head back on the backrest of the couch with a heavy sigh. “Also, please don’t call me that, it makes me sound like one of them and not one of us, ya know?”

“You mean like one of the bats and birds? I mean that’s fine I guess.” She groaned, laying back on the couch and crossing her legs over the armrest. She was off of patrol for the next few weeks, got shot a few days back by one of Black Mask’s men and got her foot pretty messed up, so she has been on communication links and the technical sides of things. “I don’t get why you won’t work with them at all, I mean even Clove and Nettle have sucked up to work with the Bat. It’s a personal history, I’m right aren’t I?”

“You're rarely wrong.” 

“Were you one of them? Like one of the Bat’s birds?” 

“...Kind of… I…I… wasn’t… one of them exactly.” You choked on your words as a sudden weight on your chest sparked up yet again, a weight you have not felt in a very long time. How long has it been since you left them? Three years, maybe four? You brought your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and hugging yourself close as your eyes fixed upon one of the tinted out windows of the warehouse. “I… I don’t like talking about it.”

“Oh… I didn’t mean… I’m sorry if I brought up any bad memories.” She apologized to you, her more relaxed tone falling into a deep pit of sympathy to you. There was a beeping from the laptop that sat on the coffee table between the two of you, the one that she had been using to watch the communication line, someone was calling in. She grabbed the computer and answered the line, catching your attention as you listened in. “Clove, Foxglove and Nightshade here, what’s your status?”

Right… Nightshade… that was your name now.

“Ya, Henbane and I have a bit of a situation here…” Clove’s voice cuts through the line and there was a bit of unease in her voice as she spoke to you both. “We’re down Southside, by the docks, there was supposed to be that shipment tonight… that was a front, there is a lady here who wants to meet.”

“Well Nettle is up by Gotham University at the moment and I am stuck here at base with my foot-”

“No she just wants to meet with Nightshade- or she called her Songbird anyway, says she knows her.” Clove’s words made you prick up, no one has known any of you for years, you all ran away and when you did you all became nameless. “I don’t think she is one for negotiation but I also don’t think she’ll let us leave unless Nightshade is here.”

“Can you tell us what she looks like-”

“Don’t, I know who it is, or a very good guess at least.” You stood up from the couch and grabbed your mask once again and pressed it back onto your skin as you made your way back to the warehouse garage. “Turn on my spare tracker just in case anything goes wrong, Foxglove. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“Do you think she’ll kill you?”

“She wouldn’t dare.”

________________________

You pulled your bike over in an alley as you neared the trackers that were on Clove and Henbane, tucking it behind a dumpster so no one would see it while you were away. The docks were dead this time of night, there was a drug bust last night by Batman so the docks were dead in case he was still lurking about tonight, but you knew he was not, you knew him better than that. You walked down the cement road, following it as you neared the water, according to their trackers Henbane and Clove were by the north east waterside of the docks.

“About damn time you showed up, Nightshade.” You looked up to see Clove leaning up against a warehouse wall, Henbane next to her. Clove was an innocent looking girl, she was fourteen maybe fifteen when you all started, so now she was just barely an adult if that, she looked like a terrified lamb with her short wavy brown hair and eyes, her freckles and round glasses. Henbane was not as innocent looking as his best friend, he was a big guy, six foot, five inches, curly brown hair and green eyes, and just pure muscle. They walked over to you, Clove looking a lot more terrified than her counterpart, she was normally the one on communication links. “She hasn’t said anything since we called and just has been standing there, waiting.”

You glanced behind them, and just ten yards or so away stood a silhouette of a powerful looking female frame, only the shape was visible in the darkness of the Gotham night. You took a deep breath in and out and took a step forward, pushing away Henbane’s hand when he tried to stop you, you glanced at him and Clove, not even bothering to force a smile at them, time for that sort of thing was long lost. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, just wait here.”

They nodded before you walking off, your heart pounding in your chest as you neared her, it was the first time in years that anyone has found you, you knew that your family had been searching for you since you left but they never found you, on both sides of things, with and without masks. But really you shouldn’t be surprised that she was the one who found you first, she was not a part of them exactly but she cared for you nonetheless, if you can call it caring. You came to stand next to her, looking over the still waters of the night. You saw her turn to you out of the corner of your eye, you felt her hand come up onto your cheek gently caressing your skin before reaching for the mask and peeling it away from your skin, revealing your face before both of her hands came up your face to turn your head to look at her.

“You’ve grown so much.”

“Hello Talia.” Seems like you were right about who was waiting for you, none other than the daughter of the demon, Talia Al Ghul. You would need to get in touch with Mr. Austen sooner or later and see what he could do about shutting down the media on you and your friends, you needed to stay nameless. You pushed her hands away from your face, grabbed your mask from her hands and pressed it back onto your face. “Make this quick, this is on your son’s patrol route and he’ll be here soon-”

“He is also your brother if you had forgotten.”

“And yet, you are not my mother.” You glared at her, eyes narrowing at her as she turned to look back over the moonlit waters. “I will ask you one more time, what do you want, Talia?”

“You remind me of your father.”

“Fuck this, I’m heading back to base.” Right as you turned to head back to your bike she grabbed your wrist, holding you back, you should not try to fight her, she could break every bone in your body if she wanted to, she would not do such a thing, not to you, but she certainly could. You snapped at her verbally, your voice like daggers. “What?”

“Something dangerous is brewing in Gotham, something beyond what you and your… friends can handle.” She glanced over to where Henbane and Clove were standing, just out of earshot before looking back at you. “Go back home tonight, my dear.”

“Or what?”

“If you leave me no choice, then I will wait here until my Damian arrives here on his patrol and tell him about who is behind that mask you wear.” 

she released your hand and you stepped away from her, glancing back at her after she spoke, just looking her over, she certainly was not bluffing about this. You turned away from her, walking away, back to Clove and Henbane as you called out to her. “Well I better get a headstart then.”

“You are making a mistake, dearest.”

“I have made plenty of those before and I am still alive, Talia.” You heard her sigh and you waved back towards your friends and you just knew they would be asking a million questions after your conversation but you pressed your finger to Clove’s mouth as she was about to peep. “I’ll explain later, get a hold of Foxglove and get her to tell everyone to get back to base now.”

“But Nettle is-”

“No buts, we don’t have any time to fight on this, we need to regroup and I need to fill you all in about… more than a few things.”

________________________

“So what’s this emergency meeting all about, something Nightshade got caught in?” Nettle questioned, everyone was sitting around the kitchen table, well the only proper dining table you had in the warehouse. Nettle was a short young man, you all took him in about a year ago, seventeen now, short blonde hair and green eyes, he was the one who had the most known backstory out of all of you, and that was you all knowing he was from Metropolis, you didn’t ask questions and you did not need to know. 

“More like my past coming back to haunt me.” You sighed and crossed your arms, sitting on top of the kitchen counter, feeling a need to physically distance yourself while you gathered your thoughts. “You all have been in Gotham for quite some time, but I was born here and well a few things have come to the surface.”

“What things?” 

You sighed at Henbane’s question, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone, it was a  burner from Mr. Austen because god knows you cannot have something for them to find you. You had opened up to a news article about a disappearance from a number of years ago, your disappearance. You set it in the middle of the table for all of them to read the headline at least and see the photo underneath that. “My old family, if you can call them that, knows my identity as of around three or so hours ago.”

All of them just stared at the headline for a long moment, Clove was glancing between you, the phone, and everyone else to see their reactions before her gaze fell back to rest upon you. “You’re one of Bruce Wayne’s kids?”

“Yep, I am his youngest daughter and biological child.”

“And we should be afraid of Bruce Wayne, why? He is just some rich playboy-”

“No he is not.” you cut Foxglove off and everyone’s heads turned to you. “The whole rich playboy persona is a cover up, he… he… he’s the Batman, the Dark Knight of Gotham, whatever you want to call him.”

“So wait, are your siblings like Nightwing or Robin?!”

“Wait, were you a Robin?”

“She couldn’t have been, Henbane was the one who taught her how to fight… right?”

“Is this why you don’t like the Bats?”

“I… just one at a time, please.” You asked your friends as they suddenly bombarded you with questions and statements and they all hushed at your request. “First of all, yes, those are my brothers, but I wished they weren’t. Secondly, no I was never a Robin or whatever, I didn’t want to be and even if I wanted I would not be allowed to be, I never learned how to fight, they thought they were protecting me.”

“Weren’t they?” Nettle questioned you, glancing about the table for approval from the others. 

“They did not… I… let me explain.” You jumped back onto the counter, crossing your legs and sitting down on it. You took a deep breath in and out, closing your eyes and taking a minute to calm yourself. “What I am about to tell you brings back some bad memories and it took a long time and some help from Mr. Austen to connect all the dots on this since a lot of it my mom didn’t want me to know because I was young and she wanted to protect me…” “It’s okay.” You heard Henbane’s voice tell you, like he could practically hear your heart racing. “Take as much time as you need, none of us like to think about the past.”

“I’m fine… I’ve had a long time to come to terms with this… but thank you.” You opened your eyes and smiled at your friend and his intimidating frame was not frightening to you, not anymore, actually it never was, he was the one who found you alongside Foxglove when you managed to sneak away during a charity gala, they found you in that alleyway not long after they found each other. “My mother was engaged to Bruce Wayne a long time ago, before the first Robin, Dick Grayson, even came around and when he was just starting really as the Bat. My mom loved him, but if they ever had any kids she didn’t want them to be involved or hurt by anything he got involved with, she didn't want that sort of life. So she called off their engagement and left him, and like clockwork she found out she was pregnant with me a few days later.”

“She raised you by herself?” You nodded at Clove’s question and a deep look of pity came across her face. “That must have been so hard for her.” 

“Don’t we… not gonna lie we were filthy rich, we were just fine with my mom’s own money.” That comment drew a laugh from Henbane and Foxglove along with an embarrassed chuckle from Clove. “My mom was a really great mother and an even better single parent, I was always by her side, she took me all around the world and it was just us for a really long time. Then one day we returned to Gotham for some big charity party when I was seven I think and she saw Bruce again and he saw me… I was young and naive to the dangers of the world like most other children, but then again the children in his life had been right with him fighting crime, I mean that woman at the docks, she is my half-brother’s mother, she is the daughter of the leader of the League of Assassins, Talia Al Ghul…”

“...are you serious?” There was a shocked silence in the room after you said that before Henbane spoke up and you nodded to his question, he just stared off as he leaned back into his chair. “Jesus Christ…”

“Ya, he is now the current Robin, Damian Wayne, trained by the League of Assassins- but that is another story, sorry I was rambling. Anyway he never got over my mom and now that I was around he wanted to protect us and I know my siblings may have been the ones to kind of prove his point with that. I know my oldest brother, Dick, tried to talk to my mom about that but that didn’t work and so then Tim, he… he started to look into my mom to find blackmail.”

“To blackmail your mother.”

“Right on the money, Clove. So when it was the day before we were supposed to leave and this part is actually my fault… I ran away from my nanny and I almost got kidnapped and I got saved by the Red Hood-”

“Wait, is the Red Hood also-”

“My brother? ya, he is, his name is Jason… he was actually pretty nice to hang out with, him and my sister Cass, Cassandra Cain. I remember after he rescued me, Jason took me to Wayne Manor and I met my father for the first time and I remember it was nice, until it wasn’t… I remember my fath- Bruce coming back later that night with my mom, they were going to get married and it just felt off. I knew something was wrong, I just didn’t know what until it became clear to me over the years, Damian threatening my classmates at school when I was kid when they only wanted to have lunch with me, or when I found a file upon file about me and my mom and photos of us in Tim’s room, or hell when I got a boyfriend he almost got strangled by Damian and got his life threatened, and when I punched a kid at school I got sent to Bludhaven to live with my brother, Dick, or there was the time I was… I was having sex with my boyfriend and for that I got locked in my room for over a month and then… actually I don’t like talking about that.” You sighed and let your shoulders relax, looking over your friends and gauging their shocked and disturbed reactions. “You all get the idea now, and so as of a few hours ago they know I am still here in Gotham and who I am behind the mask, thanks to Talia Al Ghul who I have an… interesting relationship with.”

“But why?”

“I refused to go home, thanks to the feed that has been shown on news she found me and well she is going to tell them, or rather she has already.” You glanced over to the evidence board that is over on the far end of the warehouse, by all of your gear and the bikes, well you and Clove were the only one with bikes, Mr. Austen was working on an armored car for the others since you can Clove were the only one to know about motorbikes, you from the times you snuck into the Batcave or when Jason brought you down to hang out while he worked or even when Kate Kane snuck you out on hers. “She told me that something dangerous is in Gotham, beyond us, but then again I do not know if she would lie about that or not… it’s been awhile since I last saw Talia… she was very fond of my mother, kind of like my dad is of my mom.” 

“So what now? If something like that is here we can’t team up with the Bats anymore, that would be crazy to risk losing one of our own.” Nettle added in looking at everyone around the room. “And plus they know we know you and where you are.”

“So we just need to be more cautious on patrols, we have a shipment from Mr. Austen coming in tonight before patrols. I can see if he will be willing to help us out, teach him the communication lines so when my foot is healed I can head out with the rest of you.” Foxglove spoke up to Nettle’s concern before she looked at you. “Then I am guessing from what you said, Mr. Austen already knows.”

“Ya, he recognized me the moment of that first delivery when I was out of my suit, he is a friend so we can trust him.”

“Mkay… wait a second…” Foxglove paused and looked at you, an idea already coming to her mind. “If they know you are still in Gotham now then you don’t have to hide anymore. I mean how many press are going to recognize you four years later and the Bats aren’t out during the day besides Signal but you aren’t in costume during the day so it’s not like he can interact with you at all unless he wants to expose himself.”

“Wait, what are you saying?”

“You can head out during the day, find allies, I mean you couldn’t before cause your family is still in Gotham and didn’t know you’re here and Nettle can’t still because he only went missing a year ago and would be too recognizable, but the rest of us can.” Foxglove grabs one of the writing pads from the table and a loose pen, waking you all over to gather ‘round as she begins scribbling down a schedule, or something along those lines. “We don’t leave the warehouse alone, groups of two or more now, the Bats will connect the dots but none of us have civilian identities anymore, I mean hell, Mr. Austen calls us the nameless, no one will know or recognize us anymore. I am stuck here for now cause of this foot, but when I am free to move, Henbane is with me on the streets and Clove is with you, Nightshade, but until then both of you are to stick with Nightshade, and then Nettle and I will hold up the fort here.”

“So then… where to now?” Clove questioned, looking at you, or more specifically, looking you up and down, clearly judging your appearance of sweatpants and a tee shirt since you have pretty much been in hiding for four years, not much need for nice clothes. “Actually some different clothes would do you some good, c’mon, I’ll lend you some of mine and we can ask Mr. Austen for some cash to go shopping when he swings by later tonight.”

“Our sugar daddy.”

“No, more like our rich wine aunt who spoils us.”

“How about we just call him our benefactor?”

“No.” 

________________________

Luckily your rich benefactor gave you more than supplies for vigilantism, but also supplied you more everyday transportation and funds for those sort of normal items, like a licenced bikes along with your armored ones for your use, along with fake ID cards, but you really did not need those anymore, you could even park in a parking garage, that felt weird to you now. You could not remember the last time you stood in a coffee shop line, maybe the last time Barbara and Dick took you out, you felt so flustered that Clove had to order for you. 

“Hey, don’t beat yourself over if, I remember the first time Foxglove and I headed out to the streets for the first time, it felt like a whole other world, it just takes time to get used to.” Henbane tried to comfort you as you walked out of the coffee shop, drinks in hand. “Clove was also a fish out of water.”

“It just feels weird to be out here, like normal.” 

“Well, we’ll get you back to normal soon enough.” Clove patted you on the back and you forced a smile before staring down at your iced coffee, this felt nice, it felt normal. “Any other place you need to stop by before heading back to the warehouse.”

“...Actually ya…” You looked up at Henbane and Clove, taking a deep breath in and out. “Call me crazy… but I want to go see my mom.”

“Your mom… wait, that means going back to Wayne Manor-”

“Clove, I haven’t seen her in four years, please.” You looked your friend dead in the eye and smiled, one of hope for a change. “They’ll respect a truce, especially with what I know from Talia, I don’t think she would have given a warning when she only wanted me to try to get me out of the way of it, besides maybe some of the leads we have for out cases connect to what’s coming and she knew and that’s why she wanted us out of the way.”

“I…fine, but we’re going in with you.” Clove responded before Henbane could and she shot a look at him when he tried to. “We’ll send word to Foxglove and Nettle along with Mr. Austen, so if anything goes south they’ll know where to find us and besides don’t they?”

“They do, but still Nightshade, we need to stay safe and this-”

“I’ll be fine, after all we do have leverage.”

“And if you’re not fine?”

“Then I’ll be safe from whatever Talia warned me about.”

________________________

Your bikes pulled up to the gate of Wayne Manor, it had been years since you saw the grounds you used to live at and none of it has changed, it has the same sprawling grounds, the same iron and brick fence, and surely the people inside have not changed much either. It took you a moment before you heard the intercom buzz next to the gate, luckily it was just audio and motion, not camera. 

“It’s… it’s me, I’m here to talk.”

You could practically hear the shocked silence from the other end of the line before the gate swung open and you could pull forward before it shut behind the three of you. By the time you pulled up to the front door and took off your helmets the door of the manor had flung open and you saw Dick as the first one standing there, staring at you, he looked like he was about to cry at the sight of you. At the sight of someone, both Clove and Henbane tensed up, ready to jump in front of you at a moment’s notice, Dick quickly caught onto their defensive behavior and his eyes narrowed at them, glancing between the two of them.

“Talia told Damian last night… Please tell me it’s not true.” As Dick spoke those words, his eyes fell on you just as you could make out the silhouettes of everyone else in the doorway, minus Duke, he must be on patrol. Damian and Tim came just next to Dick, they really didn’t look much different from how you last saw them, more tired maybe, you could spot Jason, Stephanie, and Cassandra behind them, and it felt like you could practically hear Bruce’s footsteps from inside the manor. “Please… you can’t be.”

“It is true…” The air left your throat as you saw a muscular figure push past his children and there in the doorway you make eye contact with him, your father, Bruce Wayne. His gaze left like death by a thousand cuts, but you swallowed your fear and looked him dead in the eye as it felt he was daring you to say that again. “I am not lying, after all my mother taught me better than that.”

You heard your father sigh and rub his temples with his forefinger and thumb as he walked down the stairs, he was still acting like you were a child and the life you lived for the past four years has just been a game you have been playing with your friends at recess. “Let’s get you inside and we can talk this over while Alfred gets your room ready.”

When he reached out and grabbed your wrist you felt yourself stiffen up and there was not a moment of pause before Henbane reached out for his throat, a big mistake. Without skipping a beat, you saw your father release you and reach out and grab your masculine friend’s arm and flip him onto his back and then the next thing you knew you were pushed behind Clove as she had pulled out her handgun and had it pointed at your father’s head, another mistake, but it seemed your father was more in a negotiation mood. He glared down at Clove, looking her dead in the eye behind her thick glasses. “Put the gun down.”

“No-”

“Clove, put down the gun.”

“You said this was going to be a visit! I don’t want to lose you-”

“Clove, please!” You were practically begging your friend at this point, you could practically hear her heavy breathing as she was on the point of tears and breaking down and sobbing. “Clove...”

You just watched your father grab the gun from your friend’s hands, tossing it on the ground. He looked back to your siblings in the doorway. “Dick, Jason,  get them inside and sit her down, she needs to calm down.”

“But-”

“Now!”

Dick didn’t argue any further and he walked down the front steps and ushered Clove inside, talking to her as if she was a citizen in distress, meanwhile Jason just practically picked up Henbane over his shoulder and carried him inside as if he was just a giant sack of potatoes. 

What vigilantes you all were.

You felt Bruce’s hand come to rest upon your shoulder and you looked him in the eye as he smiled at you, it should be comforting, a fatherly smile, but you just hated that look, it just always made you feel like there was a pit in the bottom of your stomach and you wanted to vomit. 

“You’re back home-”

“I’m not staying.” you cut him off and slapped his hand away. You glared at him, gritting your teeth behind your lips. “I only came because I was warned about something dangerous and because Talia’s actions have let me walk outside again. So you would be wise to not to do anything, because if me or my friends aren’t back before patrol tonight then I promise you all of Gotham will know who the Batman is along with the rest of you, and do not try me on this because I promise you I am not nor even was that helpless little girl you pictured me as.”

“...Fine, we’ll discuss this inside.”

[maskedcrawford]

You Took Her From Me

G-Dragon x Reader

Summary: A lawyer and a divorce. Can things be set right after losing your only daughter?

Warnings: Some angst, grief, fluff

A/N: I hadn't planned on a part two to this story but so many people requested it so here ya go. I hope you guys enjoy!

Requests are OPEN

Part 1

Pt2- Don't Do This To Us

The room is dead silent. He lets you walk away, giving you space for a moment before his own anger gets the better of him. You lay in bed, tears silently streaming down your face when you hear the door fly open.

“You think I don’t blame myself?” he shouts and you jump from the sudden volume change.

“Do you think you’re the only one who lost a child? Who lost one of the most precious things in their life? News flash, y/n, she was my daughter too!” he walks to the other side of the bed to face you and you just look through him.

“There’s absolutely nothing you could say to me that I haven’t said to myself!” you glance up at his eyes, the pain and anger somehow both evident at once.

“I said what I said,” you croak and he sighs.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” his voice is deflated and defeated.

“If you really want the divorce I’ll call a lawyer tomorrow.” He mumbles, he waits for a moment for a response and you stay quiet. He walks out of the room and a new river of tears flows from your eyes. How had life gotten this complicated? How had it come to this, your family was once so happy and complete. You, Jiyong, and his mini me. She was like him in many ways. Curious about the world, loved clothes, and would try to help him with his music. She was kind and compassionate, as much as a 3-year-old could be, she had a wanderlust in her eyes and a beautiful life ahead of her.

-

A few months later you’re in the lawyer’s office. Neither of you can look at one another, the tension suffocating from the last real conversation you had, which was the argument where you said you wanted this. Jiyong had been staying with a friend, letting you stay in the penthouse. He loved you with all his heart, so much that he was willing to grant you this divorce if you really wanted it.

“So in 3 days you’ll stand before a judge and, in the most basic of terms, he’ll officiate the divorce." The room is still filled with a thick silence.

“I have to say, you two are probably the easiest and quickest couple I’ve ever had,” the man tries to joke but neither of you laugh. Jiyong was willing to give you everything. The car, penthouse, even pay the bills if you wanted it. He’s still willing to take care of you, because he still loves you. He still wanted to be your husband.

“Ms. Kwon we need your signature here, and we’ll give this to the judge this afternoon.” You stare at the paper and steal a glance at your soon to be ex-husband. He’s biting his thumb nail, something you recall he had a bad habit of doing. You hesitantly pick up the pen and sign your name. The pen drops on the table with a little thud.

“You’re all set, feel free to take your time if you need it,” he gives you both a sad pursed lip smile. You both sit at the large table for a minute, not saying a word. You slowly gather yourself, picking up your bag.

“I’ve missed you,” he mumbles as you get up. You look at him. Frustration beginning to bubble.

“You’ll get used to it,” you say quietly through gritted teeth. You want to remain as civil as possible.

“Tell me what you want me to do, I’ll do anything.” He stands up and walks over in front of you, blocking your way to the door.

“What I want is for you to get your stuff out of the penthouse,” you breathe out trying not to look into his eyes. You know that if you do, you’ll see the heartbreak in his and it’ll draw you back in. It’ll keep you from moving on, something you feel you need to do.

He sighs, tears in his eyes that he tries to blink back.

“I’ll come over tomorrow,” he mumbles before making a b line for the door. You allow yourself a moment to breakdown before taking a breath and walking out after him.

-

That afternoon, you’re on the couch cuddled up with a pillow and blanket bingeing your favorite show, trying to momentarily get out of your head. You hear the door to your pent house open and shut. You freeze.

“Honey, I’m home,” Jiyong announces in a fake domesticated type of voice. You furrow your brows and throw the blanket off.

“What are you,” he walks in the living room with a suitcase and an empty box.

“I’m getting my stuff.” His answer is casual and simple. Like this was the plan the whole time.

“You said you were coming tomorrow.”

“You said till death do us part. Apparently, words mean nothing in this relationship.” He shrugs you off and walks into the bedroom collecting his clothes. You sigh. You missed having him home, missed greeting him, even when you two fought and had your issues after your little Ms. had passed, you still had his presence. Part of you, regardless of how irritating he could be, wanted to cling to the familiarity.

You walk after him into your bedroom and he’s silently picking his clothes out. You watch him for a moment.

“If you have something to say, say it.” He says without looking back at you, instead looking over a suit jacket. You stay silent, watching him go to pack it away. You notice something drop to the floor and you both look at it. He drops down to his knees and picks up the small bracelet. It fell out of the pocket. He smiles at the little token from your baby girl with a hard sigh. Tears brim his eyes for the first time since her death. He clutches it in his hands and you stare at him, waiting and watching. The room goes so silent you could hear a pen drop.

“Yah!” he lets out a blood curdling scream and the rest of his body slumps, his forehead is placed on the floor. You jump from the unexpected sound. He continues to yell into the carpet of the small walk-in closet. His eyes are shut as tight as they can go.

Jiyong’s body shakes from the violent emotions; one’s he wouldn’t let himself feel until now. He feels your arms slowly come around him for the first time in months and he leans into your touch. His screams continue and his face begins to turn red.

“Come here,” you mumble in his ear after letting him have a bit. You both slowly stand up and you embrace him fully. He continues to shake like a leaf, his emotions taking over.

“God, I miss her so much,” he sobs into your shoulder.

“I know, me too.” You let a few tears flow freely.

“Y/n,” he whimpers, “I can’t, I can’t do this.” You rub circles on his back trying to soothe him. You stand there for a few minutes allowing him to feel it, the anger, the grief, the disappointment, and self-loathing. It could have just as easily of been you who didn’t check her seat belt that day.

Truth be told, this is what you had been waiting on. It pissed you off how you never seen him grieve and you knew Jiyong well enough to know that he wasn’t doing it in secret. He never cried, he never got angry, he never expressed any emotion, and it made you slightly doubt if it was you who was stuck in grief or if it was him who wouldn’t do it at all. You feel a weight lift off you, almost like the wedge between the two of you was being removed.

“Oppa,” you whisper in his ear, he freezes for a brief moment. You hadn’t called him that in months. Always his name since the day you lost her. He pulls back from you slightly and you look up at him, smoothing some of his hair out of his face, noting the little red lines from busted capillaries under his eyes. You cup his cheek and he leans his face into your hand.

“Jagi,” his voice is barely audible. You give him a gentle smile at the nickname.

“Thank you,” you say with a slight crack in your voice.

“Thank you for grieving,” you hug him again and his grip is strong as he begins to let more tears flow. He grips on to you as if you’re the anchor in the sea of pain he’s losing himself in.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he sobs again and you shush him. The clothes he was packing are now forgotten, the day you two have had has been long.

“Why don’t you stay tonight,” you hesitantly offer, “You shouldn’t deal with this alone,” you try to reason with yourself more than with him. He pulls back and searches your eyes. He nods.

You get dinner delivered that night, both of you being exhausted. You open the take-out containers in silence.

“Do you remember when she got so excited the first time she walked, she tried to run and she wasn’t moving, just staying in place like,” he starts to imitate your daughter’s silly movements by swinging his arms with a determined look on his face. This elicits a quiet chuckle from you.

“Or when she threw,” his eyes are filling with the salty tears once again.

“She threw her plate across the room as a toddler because she wanted spaghetti,” he smiles as a tear drips from his cheek somberly.

“Yeah, I do,” you smile and for the first time you didn’t feel the overwhelming urge to cry. You could smile and remember her fondly. After you eat, you decide to watch a movie. You slowly make your way over to him on the couch, sitting in between his legs with a blanket. You lay your head on his chest and he stiffens beneath you before relaxing once he sees you’re settled there. You find his arms and put them around you. He looks down at you.

“What are you doing?” His voice is shocked, caught off guard by the sudden closeness.

“I’m cuddling with my husband,” you smile to yourself, “Is that ok?” you look up at him and he makes eye contact.

“More than ok.” He nods with his heart fluttering in his chest. A familiar closness and warmth spreads through him. It’s not long into the movie you begin to feel yourself get tired. You drift off to sleep, but your then awoken slightly by your body being lifted gently and carried. Jiyong places you in bed and covers you up.

“Wait,” you mumble grabbing onto his wrist.

“Stay,” you adjust your head on the pillow.

“I’ll be in the living room,” he motions and you whine.

“In here.” He looks beside you with another taken back expression. He gets comfortable and slides into the bed next to you anyway. You turn to face him and you both are inches from one another’s faces.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers as he takes in your features.

“I’ve missed you too,” you admit. His body floods with relief. He slowly snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

“I don’t,” he begins and sighs. You know exactly what he doesn’t want.

“Me either,” you admit the quiet truth.

“I want you back home,” you say after a beat of silence. His smile cracks and he pulls you as close as he can and snuggles into your frame with a giant hug. He hides his face in the crook of your neck.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you.” You tell him. He pulls back and for the first time in months, you both share a sweet meaningful kiss.

If you enjoyed consider buying me a coffee

Masterlist

Tags: @loveesiren @pinkpunkdynamite @pleasantgiverninja @petersasteria @sillylittlecat1 @aanaritt @tom-hollands-blog

[noir-lullaby]

Love is Blind | Terry Richmond

Summary: Falling in love without seeing each other was the easy part. But when the doors open and you finally lay eyes on Terry Richmond, you realise this isn't just an experiment anymore. It's real.

Warnings: pure fluff.

Author’s Note: Y’all, Terry Richmond on Love Is Blind was not on my bingo card, but here we are! 😭 I had so much fun writing this.

Word Count: ~2,800 words

The moment you signed up for Love Is Blind, you told yourself you weren’t going to settle. No half-hearted connections, no forcing sparks that weren’t there. You wanted something real. And yet, sitting on this couch in the pod, you found yourself falling. Hard.

His voice was deep, steady, a soothing kind of rich that made you lean in closer to the wall that separated you. There was a quiet strength to the way he spoke, an intentionality behind every word. He listened to you—not just hearing, but truly absorbing everything you said.

“So you really teach second grade?” Terry asked, a smile evident in his tone.

“Mhm, going on five years now. They keep me on my toes, but I love it. It’s beautiful seeing their minds expand, especially our little Black and brown babies. I want them to see the world as big as they want it to be.”

Terry hummed, a thoughtful pause before he responded. “That’s dope. I respect that.”

You grinned. “And you? A former Marine?”

“Yeah. Did my time, but I knew early on I wasn’t staying in forever. Too much blind loyalty, y’know? And I ain’t with all that.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “I won’t lie, I’ve always had complicated feelings about the military.”

“How so?”

You exhaled, choosing your words carefully. “I get why people serve. I really do. But it’s hard knowing how much harm our government has done, especially to people who look like us. I could never put my life on the line for a country that’s never fully protected us.”

Terry was quiet for a beat before he spoke, voice even. “I hear you. And honestly? I don’t disagree. I enlisted ‘cause I needed stability. Wanted to make sure my family was good. But the deeper I got into it, the more I saw the cracks. So I left.”

You bit your lip, thinking. “Do you regret it?”

“Nah. It made me who I am, but it don’t define me. I’m more than that.”

Something in your chest warmed at that. You liked the way he saw himself, how he wasn’t confined to one experience, one box. It made you want to know more.

Days turned into weeks, and with every conversation, the connection deepened. You spoke about everything—the best soul food spots, your love for old-school R&B, the books that changed your lives. Be still, your heart.

The laughter, the teasing, the little moments of vulnerability—it all built to this moment.

“I know this might be crazy,” Terry started, voice lower now, like he was holding his breath. “But I can’t ignore what I feel for you. I don’t need to see your face to know I wanna build something real with you.”

Your heart pounded. You had dreamed of this moment, but with him, it felt different. It felt right.

“Terry,” you whispered, emotion thick in your throat.

“Will you marry me?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, the answer already there. “Yes.”

--

The night before the reveal, you barely slept. Your mind raced with excitement, nerves, and the tiniest sliver of doubt. What if he wasn’t attracted to you? What if the chemistry fizzled when you were face to face? But deep down, you knew it wasn’t just about looks. You had fallen for his mind, his heart, the way he made you feel safe without even seeing you.

And then, the moment came.

Standing behind the doors, your hands trembled. This was it. The moment you would finally see him, no walls, no barriers. Just you and him.

The doors opened, and your breath hitched.

Terry Richmond stood there, tall and strong, blue-grey eyes locked onto you with an intensity that made your stomach flip. He was beautiful, and the way his lips parted in awe made you feel like the most radiant woman in the world.

“Damn,” he exhaled, running a hand over his goatee. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

You let out a soft laugh, stepping forward as he pulled you into his arms. The embrace was firm, secure, like home. He smelled of cedarwood and something distinctly him, and when he pulled back just enough to look at you, there was nothing but warmth in his gaze.

“We really did this, huh?” you murmured, fingers tracing the lapels of his suit.

“Yeah, we did,” he said, voice full of certainty. “And I ain’t letting go.”

Neither were you.

You couldn’t stop staring at him, drinking in every detail—his strong jawline, the faint scar on his brow, the way his hands held yours like he was afraid to let go. “I was scared,” you admitted. “That maybe this connection wouldn’t feel as real in person. But looking at you now? I’ve never been more sure.”

Terry cupped your cheek, thumb grazing your skin gently. “I know what you mean. But I felt you before I saw you. And now that I see you?” He leaned in, voice low and reverent. “I ain’t going nowhere.”

Before you could overthink it, his lips captured yours in a slow, deep kiss. The world around you faded, cameras and crew slipping into nothingness as you melted into him. His hands anchored you, fingers pressing into the small of your back as he deepened the kiss, taking his time like he wanted to memorize the way you tasted. Your arms looped around his neck, holding him close, needing him closer. It was soft and urgent all at once, a promise sealed between you.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he pressed his forehead against yours, a small smirk on his lips. “Yeah,” he murmured. “This is real.”

The first few minutes together felt like a dream. The way he held your hand, the way he whispered little reassurances—You good? You nervous?—all of it made you melt. The cameras, the producers, all faded into the background. It was just the two of you.

“So… what now, fiancée?” he teased, smirking as he twirled your fingers between his own.

You laughed, tilting your head. “I guess we get ready for the real world.”

“Think we’ll survive?” he asked, half-joking, half-serious.

You squeezed his hand. “As long as you’re in it, I’m ready.”

Terry studied you for a long moment, like he was committing every detail of your face to memory. Then, with a slow, confident nod, he smiled. “Then let’s do this, baby.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt completely, undeniably, ready too.

taglist: @nayaesworld @slvt4her @novahreign @nbanenefrmdao @kaylalb @woahthatshitfat

[gilbertscurls]

all in — matt sturniolo

Matt’s heart was pounding.

Not the normal kind of pounding, like when he was excited about a new video idea or about to win an argument with his brothers. No, this was the terrifying kind—the kind that made his chest feel too tight, his hands too shaky, his brain too loud.

He wasn’t used to feeling like this.

He was supposed to be the easygoing one, the laid-back guy who didn’t overcomplicate things. Love? That was always something he kept at arm’s length. Too messy, too unpredictable. He had seen too many people get hurt—seen too many relationships fall apart because someone cared too much and the other person not enough.

But with you?

With you, it wasn’t messy. It wasn’t complicated.

It was everything.

Which was why he was currently sitting beside you on your couch, trying not to pass out from nerves, knowing that in about thirty seconds, he was going to say something that would change everything.

He swallowed hard, rubbing his palms against his jeans.

“You good?” you asked, raising a brow.

No. He was not good. He was about to rip his heart out and hand it to you on a silver platter, hoping you wouldn’t throw it back at him.

But he nodded anyway. “Yeah. Fine.”

You gave him a skeptical look, shifting to face him. “You look like you’re about to either throw up or confess a murder.”

He huffed a laugh. “It’s not murder.”

“Okay… so throwing up, then.”

Matt rolled his eyes but took a deep breath. This was it. No backing out now.

“I—” He hesitated, then forced himself to meet your gaze. “I need to tell you something.”

Your expression softened, your full attention on him now. “Okay.”

His heart was racing in his chest, his palms sweaty in anticipation. He was laying it all on the line, leaving nothing between you. He was exposing his heart, hoping that you would take it and hold it gently.

“I don’t think I can do this casual thing anymore,” he admitted, voice quieter than he meant it to be.

Your brows furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”

Matt exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I mean… I don’t want to be just your friend. Or your almost something. I don’t want to pretend that what we have is just fun or easy because it’s not. It’s more. You’re more.”

Your lips parted slightly, but you didn’t say anything, so he kept going.

“I’ve spent my whole life thinking relationships had to be complicated, that love was supposed to be this impossible, messy thing that never lasted.” He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “But then I met you. And now I know I can’t just settle for anything less than this. Less than you.”

Silence.

Matt swore the room was spinning.

And then—

“You’re an idiot,” you murmured.

He blinked. “What—”

Before he could process what was happening, you reached out and grabbed his face, pulling him into a kiss so sudden, so right, that he forgot how to breathe.

It wasn’t fireworks or dramatic music swelling in the background. It wasn’t like the movies, where everything clicked into place in a perfect, cinematic moment.

It was better.

It was warm and soft and real.

When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, smiling. “You think I don’t want this?”

Matt exhaled shakily, eyes searching yours. “I—”

“I’ve been waiting for you to say something for weeks,” you admitted, laughing softly. “Do you know how hard it was not to kiss you every time you smiled at me?”

Matt blinked. “Wait, what?”

You rolled your eyes. “God, you’re so slow.”

“I’m slow?! You could’ve said something too, you know.”

“But this is so much more fun.”

Matt groaned, dropping his head onto your shoulder, but he couldn’t stop the smile tugging at his lips.

Because for the first time in a long time, he had everything he wanted.

And for once?

Love didn’t feel so complicated after all.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim237, @courta13, @frankdelreyy, @evansturn

[luvst4rc0r3]

LITTLE DARK BUT jinx x reader following the pregnancy but reader miscarries (maybe the zaun conditions or just overall stress idk) but yeah

OMG, I actually love this request. It was interesting to make.

"I don't want to be here anymore"

Jinx x Pregnant!Reader

WARNINGS: MISCARRIAGE!!!!!! If you do not like that then please leave.

WC: 2106

NOTE: set in Arcane Season 2, Episode 3. This is kinda a follow up from my post "Two pink lines"

PT.2

Jinx had never been good at sitting still.

She was always moving, always fidgeting—hands twitching, foot tapping, mind racing. The quiet got too loud otherwise, and she didn’t like what it had to say.

But now?

Now, she wished the world would stop moving.

She wished you would stop moving.

Your hands rested on your belly, rubbing circles into the stretched fabric of your shirt, as if you were already comforting the tiny life inside you. Jinx’s fingers twitched, her chest tightening as she sat on the edge of the bed, watching.

It still didn’t feel real.

Not the baby. Not you.

Not the way you looked at her like she wasn’t broken, like she wasn’t dangerous.

Like she was something worth loving.

You turned to her then, smiling so soft, so easy, like you weren’t carrying something that could change everything. “Jinx, baby, you’re staring again.”

Jinx blinked, realizing she had been, and forced a smirk. “Can ya blame me?” She flopped onto her side, propping her chin on her hand. “You’re all glow-y and shit. Kinda hot, not gonna lie.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, well, you’re gonna have to get used to it.” You gestured to your belly. “It’s only gonna get bigger.”

Jinx’s stomach did something weird then—something she couldn’t name, something that made her fingers tingle and her heart race.

She reached out, hesitating for half a second before laying her hand over yours.

“I like ya like this,” she murmured, voice quieter than she meant it to be. “Like… ours.”

You covered her hand with both of yours, holding tight. “We are.”

Jinx swallowed hard, something like panic rising in her throat. She covered it with a laugh, sharp and teasing. “‘Course, now I gotta make sure you don’t go gettin’ yourself in trouble. Wouldn’t want ya droppin’ my kid in some sketchy alleyway, yeah?”

“Oh, so now it’s your kid?”

Jinx grinned. “Yeah, and it’s already cooler than any kid.”

You snorted. “Jinx—”

“No, listen, it’s got me as a mom. That’s an automatic win.”

Your laughter was the best sound in the world, and Jinx clung to it like a lifeline. She didn’t tell you how scared she was.

How the idea of loving something this much terrified her.

How she wasn’t sure she could survive losing it.

ׄ   𓂂    ઇ⠀⠀⠀ ׅ  ⠀⠀⠀ ♡ ⠀⠀⠀ ׅ  ⠀⠀⠀ઉ⠀⠀𓂂   ׄ  

Jinx knew something was wrong the second the air shifted.

Her grip on your hand tightened, sharp eyes flicking up toward the vents lining the alley. She didn’t like being out here—too many people, too many ways for things to go sideways—but you had begged. Just a quick trip, you had said.

And Jinx?

She couldn’t say no to you.

She never could.

But now—

Now the air was wrong.

Then you coughed.

Jinx’s head snapped to you, eyes wide as you hunched over, gripping your stomach.

And then—

Then you collapsed.

“No—no, no, no, NO!”

Jinx was on her knees before she even realized she had moved, hands grabbing at you, gripping, shaking—too limp, too pale, too quiet—

The air smelled wrong. Thick. Chemical.

Jinx’s blood ran cold.

She knew this smell.

Shimmer.

No—no, not Shimmer. Something worse.

Something new.

Her heart pounded as she looked up, and she saw it.

Green gas, curling from the vents, creeping along the streets. People were dropping like flies, bodies hitting the pavement, gasping, choking, some not moving at all.

Jinx barely heard the orders being shouted.

The Enforcers.

She saw the uniforms. The guns. The masks.

And in front of them—

A familiar figure.

Vi.

Jinx’s stomach dropped.

Vi did this?

Something sharp and white-hot exploded in her chest, mixing with panic, with fury, with something so deeply broken she couldn’t name it.

Vi—her sister—the one who had promised to keep her safe many years ago, the one who had left—

She had done this.

Jinx barely had time to process it.

Because you?

You weren’t moving.

She snapped back to you, hands shaking as she grabbed your face, tilting it toward her. “Baby—hey, hey, stay with me, okay? Look at me, c’mon, please—”

Your eyelids fluttered. Your mouth opened, but no words came.

Then your body seized.

Jinx’s breath caught.

Her world cracked.

“No—”

She scooped you up, legs already running, ignoring the Enforcers, ignoring the gunfire—she didn’t have time for this, she didn’t have time—

She had to get you out.

Had to get you safe.

She didn’t care that she was bleeding. Didn’t care that she could hear Vi shouting something behind her.

Didn’t care that the green smoke was still in her lungs.

She ran.

ׄ   𓂂    ઇ⠀⠀⠀ ׅ  ⠀⠀⠀ ♡ ⠀⠀⠀ ׅ  ⠀⠀⠀ઉ⠀⠀𓂂   ׄ  

Jinx had never known silence could be so loud.

The room was spinning, her chest heaving, her fingers numb.

You lay in the bed beside her, so still, so pale, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

She had done everything she could—cleaned you up, wiped the sweat from your forehead, whispered frantic reassurances into your skin.

But nothing changed the fact that when you finally spoke, your voice was broken.

“Jinx…”

She was on you in an instant, hands gripping yours, her face so open, so raw with desperation. “I’m here—I’m right here, baby—”

Your fingers curled weakly around hers.

The world outside didn’t matter. The pain, the fear, the horror of what had happened—it all blurred into nothing as she kept you pressed against her, her fingers tangled in your hair, her lips whispering shaky reassurances against your skin.

She didn’t know how to fix this.

Didn’t know how to take away the fear in your eyes, the tremble in your hands, the way you kept pressing against your belly like you were waiting for something—anything—to tell you everything was okay.

But then—

You inhaled sharply.

Jinx’s grip on you tightened. “Baby?”

Your eyes widened. Your fingers twitched.

And then—

A kick.

Barely there. Faint. Soft.

But real.

Your breath caught in your throat. Tears welled in your eyes, but this time.

This time, they weren’t from fear.

Jinx sucked in a shaky breath, her hands flying to your belly, pressing down gently, waiting, praying—

And then it happened again.

A flutter.

A sign of life.

Jinx let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob, her forehead pressing against yours, her entire body shaking.

You let out a choked little giggle, covering your mouth, tears slipping down your cheeks. “They’re okay,” you whispered. “Oh my God, Jinx, they’re okay.”

Jinx could barely breathe past the lump in her throat.

She didn’t know how.

Didn’t know how to process the sheer relief, the overwhelming love, the way she had never felt more terrified and more alive all at once.

So she just kissed you.

Hard. Desperate. Like she was still trying to convince herself you were real.

When she pulled away, her voice was hoarse, her eyes burning.

“You scared the shit outta me.”

You sniffled, laughing weakly. “I scared myself.”

Jinx let out a breathy chuckle, her forehead knocking against yours. “Yeah, well… don’t do it again.”

You wrapped your arms around her, burying yourself into her warmth, into her safety.

And for the first time since the gas—

Since the panic, the pain, the unknown

It felt like maybe, just maybe—

Everything would be okay

ׄ   𓂂    ઇ⠀⠀⠀ ׅ  ⠀⠀⠀ ♡ ⠀⠀⠀ ׅ  ⠀⠀⠀ઉ⠀⠀𓂂   ׄ  

Jinx had never been good at feeling safe.

Not really.

But when you were around—when your fingers brushed through her hair, when your lips pressed against her forehead, when your hands cradled the small swell of your stomach—it felt close enough.

She could almost pretend that nothing bad would happen.

That you’d both get to be happy.

That your baby—her baby—would get to have the life neither of you had.

She let herself believe it.

Let herself dream of it.

Let herself think—just for a second—that she wasn’t cursed.

That she wasn’t meant to lose everything she loved.

ׄ   𓂂    ઇ⠀⠀⠀ ׅ  ⠀⠀⠀ ♡ ⠀⠀⠀ ׅ  ⠀⠀⠀ઉ⠀⠀𓂂   ׄ  

Jinx woke up to silence.

Not the kind that meant safety. Not the kind that came after a long day, curled up beside you, tracing patterns on your skin.

The kind that made her stomach twist.

The kind that meant something was wrong.

She reached for you—only to find the bed cold.

Her breath caught.

Then she heard it.

A sound so quiet, so broken, that it made her heart stop.

A gasp.

A choked sob.

Coming from the bathroom.

Jinx was on her feet before she even realized she was moving.

The door was locked.

“Baby?” Her voice was tight, shaking, already knowing—already knowing.

No response.

Another sob.

Jinx’s chest squeezed.

“Hey, c’mon—open up,” she tried again, knocking harder. “You’re scarin’ me.”

Still, nothing.

Just more crying.

Then—

A whimper.

So soft, so weak.

Jinx’s stomach dropped.

She kicked the door open.

And what she saw—

The world stopped.

You were on the floor, crumpled, half-clothed, knees pulled to your chest.

Your hands—covered in blood.

The floor—covered in blood.

So much of it.

So much.

Jinx’s breath hitched, her heart slamming against her ribs, her whole body locking up—

Then you looked at her.

And it broke her.

Your lips trembled. Your chin wobbled.

And then, barely above a whisper, voice cracking—

“Why is there so much blood?”

Jinx couldn’t move.

Couldn’t breathe.

You were shaking, staring down at yourself, hands smeared with red, fingers twitching like you were trying to understand—like you were still waiting to feel something move inside you.

Jinx fell to her knees.

“Baby—”

Your breath hitched.

Your body jerked forward, arms wrapping around yourself, fingers digging into your skin like you could hold yourself together if you just tried hard enough.

Then, the realization hit.

Jinx saw it happen.

The exact second your entire world broke.

Your whole body tensed.

Your lips parted.

Your eyes filled with tears.

Then—

A sob.

Loud. Choking.

You gasped, hands shaking violently as you reached down, pressing against your stomach—searching, begging, desperate to feel something.

But there was nothing.

Nothing.

And that was when you screamed.

Jinx felt something in her shatter.

You clawed at your belly, fingers curling into the blood-stained fabric of your shirt, pulling, gripping, gasping—like if you just held tight enough, you could keep what was already gone.

“No—no, no, no, no—”

Jinx grabbed you.

Held you.

Tried to make herself real.

Tried to keep you from slipping away.

But you thrashed against her, sobbing so violently that you couldn’t breathe.

“It’s gone,” you choked.

Jinx squeezed her eyes shut. “Baby, please—”

“It’s gone,” you sobbed harder, chest heaving, fists pounding against her.

She took it.

Took every hit, every cry, every shattered plea, because she deserved it.

Because it was her fault.

Because she should have stopped you from going out.

Because she should have noticed something was wrong.

Because she should have protected you.

Because she should have saved them.

Because the baby—your baby, her baby— was now gone

Your body collapsed against hers, trembling, arms wrapping around her so tight, like you were trying to crawl inside her, disappear inside her, be anywhere but here.

Jinx rocked you, held you, kissed your temple, muttering, pleading, whispering how sorry she was.

But sorry wasn’t enough.

Sorry wouldn’t bring them back.

Sorry wouldn’t stop the way you sobbed into her shirt, fingers gripping her so hard it hurt.

Sorry wouldn’t stop the way your voice broke when you whimpered,

"I don't want to be here anymore"

Jinx froze.

Her grip on you tightened, breath shuddering, heart slamming against her ribs.

“No,” she whispered, voice barely holding together.

You buried your face in her chest, crying so softly now, so defeated, like something inside you had finally given up.

Jinx pressed her lips to your forehead, eyes burning.

“No, baby,” she choked, voice cracking. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.”

But you just curled deeper into her arms, breath ragged, body wrecked with grief.

Jinx held you like she could keep you here.

Like she could stop you from slipping away.

Like she could pretend that when you finally stopped crying, when you finally fell into an exhausted, hollow sleep, that everything would go back to the way it was.

But it wouldn’t.

It never would.

Jinx knew that now.

Because the worst part?

The part she couldn’t say out loud?

She didn’t know if she had lost just the baby.

Or if she was losing you too.

not my usual content

I want food

[mononijikayu]

no. 1 party anthem — geto suguru.

“....What about my laugh?” He asks you, his cheeks flustered like cherry wine. “Is…is the sound good?” You matched his flustered cheeks. “It’s…It’s like a song.” “A song?” “My favorite song.” You admitted to him, slowly smiling as you shyly looked up to his flustered gaze. “Your voice is my favorite lullaby. But your laugh? It’s my favorite song.”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: post hidden inventory, pre-jjk 0, heavy angst, romance, falling in love, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, break up, slice of life, timeskip, depression, hurt, mourning, loneliness, trauma, pain, humor, guilt, pining, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, grief, profanity, depiction of break up, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of loneliness, mention of events post hidden inventory, mention of events in jjk 0, cursed user! suguru, jujutsu sorcerer! reader;

WORD COUNT: 7.7k words

NOTE: i've been getting into arctic monkeys again (as you can tell) and i have to say, no. 1 party anthem has done things to me these past few weeks. AM is such a good album. i really don't think that one can get any rawer in story telling about the sorrows of parting the way AM had depicted it. so i hope you listen to it one of these days, if you haven't already. anyway, i hope you all enjoy this. i love you all so much!!! see you on the next one <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

══════════════════

IT WAS A SURPRISE, TO SEE HIM TONIGHT. It had been nearly five years since you last saw Geto Suguru, but the weight of his absence still lingered in the quiet moments of your life. And it had taken your breath away, you knew that much. Because you had already resigned yourself to never seeing him again since that night.

But you can’t help but wonder about all the suffering and grief that had carved its way through those five years, shaping the person who stands here now.

The you of the present feels like a stranger sometimes, a mosaic pieced together from shattered moments, each shard reflecting a memory too painful to hold but too significant to discard.

There were nights when you lay awake, your mind replaying fragments of what once were half-formed smiles, laughter that now seemed like it belonged to someone else, and the weight of a bond that had been torn apart, leaving jagged, unclean edges that never truly healed.

You’d press your fingers against the raw places, testing their tenderness, reminding yourself that the pain was real. That he was real. But he wasn’t here anymore. He had chosen his life. He had made his bed with his reality. And so must you. 

It all felt like another lifetime, one so distant it seemed almost like a dream. The person you were then, the one who loved him, trusted him, believed in him. That person feels impossibly far away now. You’d convinced yourself you’d buried that version of you alongside the memory of him. And with time, you believed it.

You never expected to see him again.

And yet, there he was.

The sight of him felt like a blow, like the ground had shifted beneath you and left you unsteady. His presence unraveled the delicate stitches you’d used to bind your wounds, pulling them loose thread by thread. He looked both the same and different, an unsettling contradiction that left you breathless.

Time has not been kind to either of you. You knew that much. Geto Suguru was a handsome man, he always was and he always will be. But you could see things that people wouldn’t. You see everything, you know everything about him. Maybe more than himself.

If time had not been kind to him, you could only judge from afar about things that had happened to him. You could see it in the lines etched into his face, the heaviness in his gaze. But what struck you most was the familiar ache you thought you’d buried. it resurfaced all at once, sharp and unforgiving.

You told yourself you’d moved on. You told yourself he was a ghost, a memory that had no power over you anymore. But standing here now, your heart betrays you.

And for a moment, all the pain, all the nights spent grieving, all the years spent rebuilding—none of it seems to matter. For a moment, you forget the hurt and only remember how it felt to love him.

It happened on a random Friday night at a bar you frequented with your other sorcerer friends. It was a hub for sorcerers to gather after missions. With how Satoru and Shoko were also getting too busy to hang out with you, and Nanami not frequenting such a place, you had no other choice but to find yourself some new people to mingle around too when they weren’t free. Life doesn’t stop when you lose someone.

So, you ended up finding this bar. And over the years, you have become a regular. Even more so, you found new people to meddle life with. You all of course still can’t meet everyday. But it was more regular than most of your other relationships. That gets you through the day most of the time.

The bar in itself wasn’t special. It was a cozy, dimly lit spot with just enough charm to make it feel like a second home. But it was yours, a place where you could laugh, unwind, and forget the world outside. It was ironic that he of all people would show up here. Perhaps the universe had a cruel sense of humor, or maybe fate had finally decided to intervene.

Geto Suguru hadn’t been looking for you that night. Or maybe he had, in some subconscious, desperate way. His sources, mutual acquaintances, whispers from insiders had led him here, for business.

It’s why he had a special grade glamour on. But even he didn’t fully understand why he had stayed for a while. He didn’t need to. Someone else could have done this for him. 

But when he stepped into the inner corners of the bar, his purple eyes scanned the room almost out of habit. Nothing much intrigued him in this place. It was too common, too crowded. It wasn’t his fashion. It wasn’t his scene. 

But then, he looked further away and stopped.

In that moment, he knew that he saw you.

The moment froze. You didn’t notice him at first, too caught up in the warmth of your friends’ laughter. But he noticed everything. The way your smile lit up the room, the easy way you leaned into your conversation, the carefree aura you carried. 

It was a stark contrast to the image he had of you locked in his mind: the you who had walked away from him, or maybe the you he had walked away from. He couldn’t decide anymore. He never made up his mind about that. Perhaps doing so would have hurt more.

When your eyes finally met, it hit you like a tidal wave. Recognition. Shock. Something unnameable. No one else would see the cursed energy glamour the way you would. You would notice.

You would see him. All of him. Only you could do that in a way people will never know how to. No one else could tear apart Geto Suguru the way you have, the way you will for all his life.

For a heartbeat, it felt like no time had passed, like you were back in that shared moment before everything fell apart. But then reality set in, and you turned away. Too quickly, too deliberately. You excused yourself from the table, and when you returned, he was gone.

Geto Suguru had fled back to the club he’d come from, his chest tight with a cocktail of emotions he couldn’t untangle. He should’ve known better. You were no longer a part of his life. He’d lost the right to be. And yet, he couldn’t let it go. 

After downing two more drinks, the gnawing need to see you again overpowered him. He left the club and returned to the bar, heart pounding, searching. Asking the bartender if they’d seen you, scanning every corner of the room for a glimpse of your face. But you were gone.

Suguru wasn’t sure what hurt more: the hope that had flared in his chest when he saw you or the emptiness left in its place when you disappeared.

He hadn’t planned on this—on seeing you, on unraveling in public like this. Life after you had been a blur of responsibility and regret. You’d moved to Fukuoka to teach to get as far away from Tokyo as possible and he focused on his new family, his new vision. 

Geto Suguru poured himself into work, convincing himself that distance was the answer. Just as much as you had thought the same thing. Out of sight, out of mind. But you were never truly gone from his thoughts, and the years only deepened the hollow ache. And perhaps, neither was he. 

Now, both of you are back in Tokyo, perhaps even just for tonight. He was sitting alone at the bar, he stared into his glass, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped the edges. He was alone, so far away from you and your warmth, and your smiles and you who was everything.

The laughter of strangers around him was a cruel echo of the joy you’d shared with your friends just hours ago. He drank to dull the pain, but it only sharpened the edges of his misery. Each sip dragged him further into the pit he’d been clawing his way out of for years.

Suguru hated himself for the way he felt, for the way his chest still tightened at the thought of you, for the way he still longed for something he’d already destroyed. He had made his choices, he stood by them firmly. 

And yet as the night wore on, his mind spiraled further into the what-ifs and could-have-beens, until he was too far gone to remember why he started drinking in the first place, he could only think how miserable he truly was.

By the time Suguru stumbled out of the bar, the night had deepened into an eerie quiet. The streets were nearly empty, save for the faint hum of passing cars and the distant laughter of people heading home.

The cold air stung his skin, but it didn’t sober him. Nothing could cut through the fog in his mind, the haze of alcohol and regret that weighed him down.

He wandered aimlessly, his thoughts circling back to you like a cruel refrain. How could you look so happy? How had you moved on so effortlessly when he was still stuck in the wreckage of what you once shared? Part of him wanted to be angry, but the anger never came. All that remained was the bitter taste of self-loathing.

When Suguru finally stopped walking, he found himself at a familiar park; a place you’d both loved. The benches were worn, the trees towering silhouettes against the starless sky. He sank onto a bench and buried his face in his hands, the chill of the night pressing against his flushed skin.

Memories rushed in unbidden, as vivid as the night you first kissed under those very trees. He could almost hear your laughter, feel the warmth of your hand in his.

It was unbearable, the way the past clung to him like a second skin. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the sheer weight of his emotions, but his chest heaved, and he let out a strangled sob, his breath fogging in the cold air.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He had convinced himself that leaving had been the right thing to do, that the distance would save you both from the inevitable pain of being together.

But in his effort to protect you, he had only condemned himself. And now, seeing you happy, surrounded by friends, made him realize just how deeply he had failed.

Meanwhile, you ended up back at your friend’s apartment, all the laughter and enjoyment had come fading as the events of the night replayed in your mind. Seeing Geto Suguru again had been a shock you weren’t prepared for. None else noticed but you. If anything, it was as if he had wanted you to know that it was him. 

You couldn’t help but feel sick at the thought. He’d come back. But for what? Why have he come back? You’d been doing fine for the past ten years. And now in an instant, you find yourself unable to do anything about these tears that just pours out. 

You’d spent years trying to bury the memories, to build a life that didn’t revolve around the void Suguru had left behind. And for the most part, you’d succeeded. But tonight had cracked something so deep within you, like a breaking dam. It was that wound you thought had healed. A wound so deep that maybe you never noticed it never healed.

Your friends noticed your distraction and tried to coax you back into the lighthearted energy of the evening, but it was no use. When it comes to Suguru, you knew you would never be able to pull yourself back from the brink. You left early, along with your friend and retreated to the quiet of your own space in her house. 

Sitting in the dim glow of your living room, you stared at your phone, your thumb hovering over his name in your contacts. It had been years since you’d last spoken, and the silence between you was deafening. But tonight, it felt heavier, like it was begging to be broken.

Suguru, in his drunken haze, finally pulled out his phone. His fingers trembled as he stared at the empty message thread between you from all those years ago. He never changed phones. He just couldn’t. 

Not when this held so much of you, more than you could ever know. And he’d hate to part with it. He hates parting with you. The cursor blinked at him mockingly, daring him to say something, anything. But what could he say? What words could possibly bridge the chasm he had created?

You both sat in separate silences, even far away from each other. Even then, you both carry the weight of your shared history hanging in the air, stifling you both whole. Somewhere between the spaces of what was and what could never be, a thread still connected the two of you in the frayed, fragile, but unbroken echoes of life.

And for the first time in years, you both wondered what it would have been like to say hello.

══════════════════

IT WAS A LONG TIME AGO, FLASHING IN YOUR MIND SO CLEARLY. Your relationship with Geto Suguru began like a slow sunrise—gentle, almost imperceptible at first. Everyone could see something beautiful about it. You could too.

But it wasn’t something either of you could pinpoint, the exact moment it started, but before long, the light of it had crept in, filling the cracks and chasing away the cold.

At first, you were just kids, thrown together in the chaotic, unforgiving world of jujutsu sorcery. Life and death weren’t just abstract concepts; they were constant, hovering over every breath you took, lurking in the shadows of every mission. But with him, there was something different. Something softer.

It started with stolen glances in the classroom, shared smirks over jokes that only you two seemed to find funny. Then came the late-night conversations that stretched far too long, but neither of you cared. You’d sit on the temple steps, the world silent except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.

“You ever think about what we’d be doing if we weren’t... this?” he asked one night, his voice low, almost hesitant. He looked at you then, his dark eyes searching yours like he might find some hidden answer there.

“Sometimes, when I have some time. I think about it. With you, me, Satoru and Shoko.” you admitted. “But then I think... would we have ever met? If we were just ordinary people?”

He smiled, that small, almost private smile he saved just for you. “I don’t think the universe would’ve let us miss each other.”

“Even just the two of us?” You wondered at him.

“Especially the two of us.” He grinned even wider, patting your head. 

Those words lingered with you long after that night, as did the quiet weight of his presence. Suguru wasn’t just your teammate or your classmate; he became your confidant, your safe place. The one person who could make you feel human, even when the world tried to strip that away.

There was lightness in your connection, a reprieve from the heaviness that came with your lives. The warmth of his laugh, the way his shoulders relaxed when you were around. It was as if the two of you carried pieces of each other’s burdens without ever having to say it out loud. 

Everytime you were with him, you felt like everything was whole.

The world made sense when you were with him.

And you were proven right each and every single time.

He was the only one for you in this world.

It had been a long day, and exhaustion lingered in the edges of your mind, but he sat across from you, legs crossed lazily, and the smallest smile teased at his lips. You remember telling a joke.

You don’t remember it in its entirety but you knew it was something about the absurdity of the higher-ups’ newest “ingenious” strategy and for a moment, his guarded composure shattered.

He laughed.

It wasn’t just a chuckle or a polite hum. No, it was a real laugh. It was as though life had existed the first time he laughed. It was so bright, unrestrained, and utterly disarming.

The sound was pure, and for a moment, you could almost forget the weight he carried, the things he wouldn’t talk about late at night when the shadows seemed to pull closer.

“God, that laugh.” you murmured, half to yourself, but he caught it.

“What about it?” His voice held a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with curiosity.

“It’s… nice. Unexpected.” you said, and you could feel your cheeks warming under his steady gaze.

“....What about my laugh?” He asks you, his cheeks flustered like cherry wine. “Is…is the sound good?”

You matched his flustered cheeks. “It’s…It’s like a song.”

“A song?”

“My favorite song.” You admitted to him, slowly smiling as you shyly looked up to his flustered gaze. “Your voice is my favorite lullaby. But your laugh? It’s my favorite song.”

That was the beginning. That laugh became your favorite sound, a lifeline in the chaos. It became the thing you sought, the thing you tried to coax out of him in fleeting moments between missions or during those rare stretches of quiet.

You had stolen moments, the two of you. Too many to count, too many to want to forget. It was when life wasn’t pressing its cruelty upon you. Late nights stretched into early mornings, both of you lying in the grass, the stars above almost as bright as his gaze.

“You see that one?” you whispered once, pointing to a cluster of stars. “It reminds me of you.”

“Oh? How’s that?” he asked, smirking slightly, his head tilted in mock challenge.

“It burns so brightly you can’t help but stare,” you said without thinking, and the smirk faded into something softer, something almost shy.

“Careful, I might start believing you, you know?” he murmured, looking away, but not before you caught the blush dusting his cheeks.

“But aren’t I correct with what I said?”

“Ah, you’re just as cheeky as Satoru.”

You grinned at him. “But I’m better than him, aren’t I? Because I’m your favorite!”

Suguru laughed, his cheeks warm like a scarlet sunrise. “Yeah, yeah. You are my favorite.”

And then there was the kiss. It happened on an evening like any other. It was only a normal day. A day like any other. Nothing special at all.

You had been talking, your words flowing so easily it felt as if you were spinning threads of a tapestry you had both been weaving for years. Somehow, you just belonged together.

When he leaned in, his hand brushing the side of your face, it wasn’t a surprise. It felt inevitable, like the tides meeting the shore. Like destiny itself had been guiding you here. You felt like you were home as you found yourself overtaken by him.

When his lips met yours, it was as if the world stopped turning. It wasn’t fireworks or an explosion. It was just warmth that was familiar. The breeze of evening moonlight. it was a sigh, a soft release of tension you didn’t realize you had been carrying. Everything else fell away. It was just him and you.

And in that moment, you knew.

He was the one for you.

He was the love of your life.

“This feels... right, don’t you think?” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. His voice was so soft you almost didn’t hear it.

“It does. Perfect.” you whispered back. “Like it was always supposed to happen.”

You didn’t just love him. No, you recognized him. Across time, across lives, across every distance imaginable. You had found him, and you would find him again.

Every time. Every lifetime. And you would love him, fiercely, until it burned you alive. Because he wasn’t just a part of your world—he was your world.

For a while, it was perfect. Together, you built a fragile sanctuary amidst the chaos. Even as the missions grew harder and the burden of protecting the world loomed heavier, you found solace in each other.

Geto Suguru would hold you close on nights when the horrors of your work were too much to bear, whispering reassurances that tomorrow would be better.

But tomorrow wasn’t better.

The world began to crack around him. He had blamed himself for Amanai Riko. For Satoru’s brush with death. For failure of a mission that relied so much on him. And that had buried him under, even before he had come and gone to the grim reaper’s arms. 

Everything you had loved about him slowly faded, like memories of yesterday. You saw it in the way his smiles became rarer, in the way his laughter came less easily. He grew quieter, more distant, and when he came back from missions, he wouldn’t talk about them anymore.

Instead, he’d sit in silence, staring at nothing, as if the weight of what he’d seen was too much to put into words. As if nothing in this world mattered at all. As if nothing was worth living for. 

At first, you tried to pull him out of it. You were the only person that could do something like that, if Satoru couldn’t. You have tried hard. You really did.

You did as much as you could to remind him of the ideals that had driven you both to fight in the first place. Of the future that you could have together, where you could be happy. 

But Suguru wasn’t just tired of everything—he was angry.

And he didn’t want to hear anything more about those ideas.

They had failed him, as much as the adults had already done.

He wasn’t in the mind to talk anymore, he was tired of talking.

“They don’t deserve it.” he said  harshly, that one night, his voice low and simmering. “The people we save—they don’t even know what we sacrifice for them. They go about their lives while we bleed for them. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not about fairness, Suguru.” you said, reaching for his hand. “It’s about doing what’s right. They are weaker than us. They don’t know the world of such suffering. But we do. Suguru—”

But he pulled away, shaking his head at you. “Maybe what’s right is letting them fend for themselves. Maybe what’s right is taking back control.”

“Suguru, you can’t—”

“I have had enough of it. I can’t….I can’t have any more of this bullshit. Please.”

You didn’t recognize the man sitting before you. His words were sharp, edged with bitterness that scared you. You tried to argue, to bring him back to the man you had fallen in love with, but Geto Suguru was slipping through your fingers, and no matter how tightly you held on, you couldn’t stop it. The more you tried, the more he pulled away. 

The breaking point came on a mission, one you didn’t share with him. You weren’t there to see the moment he made his choice—the moment he decided that humanity was no longer worth saving.

You only heard the aftermath: Suguru Geto, once a protector, had killed. He had killed too many people. Even his own parents. He had turned his back on everything he once stood for. And all to be free. All to stop those voices in his head. All to stop being miserable.

When you confronted him that day, you were trembling. A part from anger, part from heartbreak. You looked at him, eyes so brimming with tears as he stood there with those dark purple orbs narrowing at you. 

Almost as though he couldn’t care less about it all. It was as if he didn’t carry the world on his shoulders anymore. In that moment, it was better that their suffering freed him. That’s what it looked like to you. And that broke you. More than you could even say. More than you could even understand. 

“Tell me it’s not true, Suguru.” you said, your voice cracking. “Tell me you didn’t do it.”

But Geto Suguru didn’t lie. He’s never been good at lying. If anything, you didn’t need him to say anything. You already knew the truth. You’ve seen the bodies. You’ve seen the reports. But somehow, hearing him say it. 

Perhaps that’s the only way to make it real. That’s the only way to know the truth. He looked at you with calm, unflinching purple eyes, the same eyes that used to hold so much warmth. How could such warm eyes feel so cold, so lifeless, so devoid of the will to live?

“They deserved it.” he said simply, his hands resting on his pockets. “The world needs to change. And I’m going to change it.”

You stepped back, shaking your head, tears streaming down your face. “This isn’t you, Suguru. This isn’t who you are.I know…I know who you are. Please, just…Just…”

“It’s who I’ve always been.” he said, and the certainty in his voice shattered you.

Tears fell from your eyes, to the point that you couldn’t see anymore. You let out a guttering cry, your hand covering your lips as though you know you can’t let it out anymore. You can’t stand like this in front of him. But you couldn’t move. You couldn’t stop staring at him. Where did your Suguru go? Where was he?

“I don’t know you anymore.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You sobbed, looking at the ground. “Who are you? Where’s my Suguru? Where is he?”

For a moment, just a moment, his mask slipped. You saw the guilt in his eyes, the pain he was trying so hard to bury. Not because he’s hurt others, no. But because he’s hurt you. That burns him more.

That kills him more. But then it was gone, replaced by the resolute facade he had built to shield himself. He knew he couldn't come back. He’s gone too far for him to walk away from it.

“I hope you know that….I’m sorry.” he said to you, watching you close your eyes. As though wanting to pretend that this was just a bad dream. “But this is the only way.”

You wanted to scream, to grab him and shake him until he saw reason. But you knew it wouldn’t make a difference. You always knew better than that. He was resolute. He always has been. And so, he would not turn back. Not even for you. 

The Geto Suguru you loved was gone. He was killed. He was consumed by the darkness he couldn’t escape. And you will never get him back. The last time you saw him, he was walking away, his silhouette fading into the distance. You stood there, rooted to the spot, the weight of his absence crushing you.

In the days and weeks that followed, you replayed every moment, every conversation, every sign you had missed. You blamed yourself, even though you knew, deep down, that this wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have saved him.

But that knowledge didn’t make the loss any easier. You were sure that he was the love of your life. Geto Suguru has been your love, your partner, your everything.

And now he was gone, leaving behind nothing but memories and the ghost of what could have been. And now you had to pick up what’s left from the desolation that swallowed everything whole. If not you, who will?

In the weeks that followed, life moved on around you, but you felt like you were frozen in place. The routines of being a jujutsu sorcerer continued. Day in day out, it was missions, training, meetings. But somehow,  it all felt hollow. 

Every face you saved, every curse you exorcised, felt like a mockery of what you had lost. How could you keep protecting a world that had taken Geto Suguru from you? How could you keep meeting with faces that didn’t know how to protect a child? How could you keep finding yourself living like this over and over?

But you still did it anyway.

You knew it was the right thing to do.

Suffering or not, you had to live.

You had to continue on.

Your nights were the hardest. Sleep became a distant memory, replaced by endless hours of replaying the past. You found yourself going back to the places you had shared with him.

The quiet park where you used to sit and watch the stars, the ramen shop where he’d always order extra broth, the training grounds where you’d spar until you were both breathless with laughter.

But those places were empty now, stripped of their meaning. Without him, they were just shadows of something you could never get back. Things that were just gone, forever lost in the abyss of his own making. An abyss you had sealed just as much, by continuing to live the way you have.

The news of Geto Suguru’s defection spread quickly. Whispers followed you wherever you went, people looking at you with pity, like you were some tragic figure in a story they couldn’t stop retelling.

Some were kind, offering empty condolences that only made you feel worse. Others were cruel, blaming you for not seeing the signs, for not stopping him before it was too late.

But the worst were the people who said nothing, who looked at you like you were a ticking time bomb, as if Suguru’s choices had tainted you by association. You could feel their looks, you could always hear the double entendre in their words. But you could hardly care at that point.

You tried to drown it all out, focusing on your missions, on anything that would keep your mind occupied. But no matter how hard you worked, no matter how many curses you destroyed, the weight of Suguru’s absence clung to you like a second skin.

And then, one day, you saw him again.

It was purely by accident, something you couldn’t expect.

It had only been a mere few months after he had left.

It was on a mission in a remote village, where rumors of a powerful curse had been reported. You had gone in prepared for anything—or so you thought. What you weren’t prepared for was the sight of Geto Suguru standing in the center of the chaos, his presence commanding, his expression unreadable.

Your breath caught in your throat. For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. He looked the same, and yet so different. There was an edge to him now, a coldness that hadn’t been there before. A brutish layer that protected him from the world.

“Suguru.” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He turned to you, and for a split second, something flickered in his purple eyes—recognition, maybe even regret. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the calm detachment you had come to fear.

“You shouldn’t be here.” he said, his tone almost gentle.

“You don’t get to tell me where I should be. you shot back, your voice trembling. “Not after what you’ve done.” After what you’ve done to me.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t come here to fight you. Leave, and I’ll let you go.”

“Let me go?” you echoed, anger bubbling up inside you. “You don’t get to ‘let me go’ for shit, Suguru. You left. You broke everything, and now you’re standing here like none of it matters. I should kill you right now where you stand like the kill order says.”

“It does matter. Everything I do, it matters. To me, to the world I’m building.” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “More than you’ll ever understand. That’s why I’m doing this.”

“No, Suguru. You aren’t.” you said, stepping closer to him. “You’re doing this because you gave up. Because you let the worst parts of this world consume you. And now you’re trying to justify it by pretending. And I just….I have had enough of that excuse. Even when we fought, you used that excuse.”

He flinched at your words, the only crack in his otherwise unshakable composure. For a moment, you thought you had reached him. But then his expression hardened, and he took a step back from you.

“This isn’t about us, you know that.” he said. “It’s bigger than that. Bigger than you or me.”

“It was never just about us, you idiot.” you said, your voice breaking. “But we could have fought for something better—together. Instead, you threw it all away. You threw me away.”

He didn’t respond. He knew you were right. You could see it in your eyes. He tried to open his mouth, to say something. But instead, he turned and began to walk away, his figure fading into the distance once more.

You wanted to call out to him, to beg him to stay, to fight for the man you once knew. But you didn’t. Because deep down, you knew that man was gone. You would just be lying to yourself if you tried to pretend that it would work. 

And as you stood there, watching him disappear, you realized something: this was the last time you would let him break you. Geto Suguru had chosen his path, and now it was time for you to choose yours. You had to.

Even if it meant living with the weight of his absence for the rest of your life, you would carry it. Because that was what it meant to keep going. He wasn’t willing to live with you, for you. He wasn’t willing to do that. And so, you had to. You had to do it for you. To survive. 

══════════════════

HE FELT LIKE HE WAS GOING TO THROW UP. Geto Suguru stumbled into another bar, his head swimming with alcohol and frustration. The neon lights buzzed overhead, casting garish colors onto the crowd of strangers. 

It was a different place, but it might as well have been the same. Everywhere he went, it felt the same: loud, crowded, meaningless. He was chasing something he couldn’t name, knowing full well it wouldn’t fix the hollow ache inside him.

He spotted a girl at the bar, standing alone for just a moment, and something in him shifted. It wasn't an attraction—not really. It was desperation. I may suggest there’s somewhere I might know her, he thought, smirking to himself, just to get the ball to roll. 

He approached her with a feigned air of confidence, the kind that only comes from being far beyond tipsy. His words slurred slightly as he said something about a shared connection, a vague memory he knew didn’t exist. She tilted her head, intrigued despite herself.

Suguru leaned in closer, his voice low and coaxing. “Come on, before the moment’s gone.” 

It wasn’t like he was falling in love. That wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want her heart or her promises. He just wanted her to do him no good, to help him forget for a while. The girl gave him a look—soft, inviting, a subtle tilt of her lips that sent a rush of blood through his veins. 

It turned him on more than it should have. He didn’t care about her name, her life, or her story. It was the thrill of the chase, the electric jolt of fleeting desire. But before he could take another step, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. 

“She’s with me.”

Suguru turned to see a man standing there, tall and stern, his presence like a wall between them. The girl stepped back toward her boyfriend, her gaze dropping in awkward apology. Suguru laughed bitterly, holding his hands up in mock surrender. 

“Didn’t mean to intrude.” he said, though the sting of rejection burned.

He retreated to the edge of the dance floor, his drink in hand, watching the pulsing crowd around him. The music was deafening, the lights dizzying. The club was a house of fun—or at least that’s what it was supposed to be. People were laughing, dancing, losing themselves in the moment. But for Suguru, it was a prison. A trap.

The room spun, not from the alcohol but from the crushing realization that it wasn’t enough. This place wasn’t enough. These people weren’t enough. She’s not you. No, she isn’t. She never will be. No one else can ever be like you.

No matter how many drinks he had, no matter how many strangers he flirted with, the truth was inescapable. You and he weren’t together anymore. You had been the only thing that made sense in the chaos of his life, and now, without you, everything felt hollow.

The club blurred into a mess of sound and light, but all Suguru could feel was the emptiness gnawing at him. He was trapped in this cycle of meaningless nights, trying to fill the void you left behind. And deep down, he knew it would never work. Because no matter how hard he tried, no one could be you.

Nothing here was worth staying for.

So he comes outside, the cold greeting him.

But he could barely feel it stab through him.

The alcohol in his veins dulled everything except the gnawing ache in his chest. He stumbled down the street, the neon lights of the club fading behind him, replaced by the harsh glow of streetlights. His breath came out in uneven puffs, his mind swimming with thoughts he didn’t want to face.

His phone was a familiar weight in his pocket. He pulled it out, his fingers fumbling over the screen until he found your name. He was too drunk to be a coward now. He wasn’t going to let the cursor mock him this time. Not again.

Somehow, it was muscle memory—he didn’t even have to think about it. You were still in his contacts, still in his life in the smallest, cruelest way. If anything, he memorized your phone number. He knew it too well, he’d never forget it. He stared at your name for a long moment, the cursor blinking on the call button.

The voice in his head screamed at him to stop, to put the phone away and walk home.He didn’t need to do this. Not right now. Not ever. But the alcohol silenced that voice, replacing it with raw, unfiltered need. And seeing you tonight….what more did he need to be an excuse? He had to call you. Even if it was wrong, he had to. 

Before he could stop himself, he hit the button. The phone rang. Once, twice. With every passing second, his heart raced, his breathing shallow and unsteady. He almost hung up, almost let the moment slip away, but then you answered.

“Hello?” Your voice was soft, confused. You had changed phones. But you still used the same number. He knew that. But you probably, over time, had forgotten his phone number. He had expected it. He was after all, worth forgetting. “Who is this?”

It was late, and you hadn’t expected to hear from him—hadn’t heard from him in years. If anything, you never should expect anything from him. But the sound of you made his chest tighten, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. He leaned against a lamppost, the phone pressed to his ear like it was his last lifeline.

“S’me again, babe.” he slurred finally, his voice thick with alcohol and emotion. “Suguru.”

There was a pause on your end, heavy and loaded. He could almost feel the weight of your hesitation, the way your breath hitched as you processed his call. It had been a long time. Ten long years. And now, just now, he called. 

“What do you want?” you asked, your tone cautious, guarded. It wasn’t the warmth he remembered, but it wasn’t cold either. It was somewhere in between, and that hurt more than anything.

“I don’t know, honestly.” he admitted, his voice breaking. He laughed bitterly, dragging a hand through his hair. “No, that’s a lie. I know. I just… And I just….I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop… missing you.”

“Suguru…” Your voice softened, but there was something else there too—sadness, maybe even pity. 

He hated it. He didn’t want your pity. You had known that even when you were younger. But he knew you couldn't help it. Still, just maybe, even just tonight, you’d drop it. You’d pretend, just as he was. He wanted you to tell him that you missed him too, that you still thought about him late at night, that he wasn’t the only one trapped in this endless spiral.

“I saw you tonight.” he blurted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “At that bar. Can’t remember the name, honestly. But you just….You looked so happy. Like you don’t even think about me anymore. Like I’m nothing.”

You sighed on the other end of the line, and it cut through him like a knife. “Suguru, it’s been ten years. What did you expect? I….I didn’t expect my life to be frozen, waiting for an impossibility that will never come.”

“I don’t know. I just…” he said again, his voice rising with frustration. “I thought maybe—maybe you’d feel the same. Like… like this thing between us isn’t over. Like it’s still there.”

“It’s not. And you…you know this.” you said quietly, and the finality in your tone made his knees buckle. He sank onto the curb, his head in his hands.

“It is for you, maybe…. he whispered, his voice cracking. “But not for me. It’s not over for me, and I don’t know how to let it be. Babe, I loved you. I still do. Maybe for the rest of my fucking life. But I…I don’t know what to do.”

The silence on your end was deafening, and he filled it with a broken laugh. You had the right to  your silence, you always will. After what he had done, even just last night? Why shouldn’t you just be quiet? Why shouldn’t you just hang up right now? 

But on the other side of the line, you were bitterly weeping in the quiet. Just taking in his words. Everything about your lives had been a tragedy, a tragedy that you could never forget. Both of you were living those past lives that can never come back. And you shouldn’t. You can’t. Not now, not ever.

“I’m drunk, you know?” he said, as if that excused everything, as if it would make you forget the raw, painful truth he’d just laid bare. “I shouldn’t have called. I just… I needed to hear your voice.”

“You need to go home, Suguru.” you said gently. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it was what he expected.”You have daughters to go home too, remember?”

You’d always been kind, even when you were hurting. Even to people that hurt you. He’d always known that. But somehow, he wondered if that kindness was why you’d stayed in his contacts all these years—because part of you knew he might need it someday. 

Because he knows you’d be merciful to him, no matter what he’d done. No matter what he’d caused you. You’d pick up that phone and answer him. You’d let him hear your voice, like you used to do for hours and hours when you were younger.

“Yeah, you’re right.” he said, dragging himself to his feet. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll go home.”

But as he stumbled down the street, the phone still pressed to his ear, he couldn’t help but say one last thing. “You were the best thing I ever had, you know that? The only thing that ever made sense. In all of my life. And I love you. I’ll love you forever for it.”

He heard you inhale sharply, but you didn’t respond. Not for a while. You took a moment to let out a small sob, as though trying to hold yourself together. And Suguru could imagine it. How it shatters him. Ah, he had made you cry again like this.

“You were the best of my life, Suguru.” You finally say, almost the saddest he’s ever heard you talk. You were still mourning him, he supposed. “The love of my life. You always will be, Suguru.”

The line went quiet, and then, mercifully, you hung up.

Suguru stood there for a moment, staring at the screen, the word “Disconnected” flashing at him in a cruel, mocking rhythm. His hand tightened around the phone, his knuckles turning white as the fury bubbled beneath the surface. He nodded to himself.

He wanted to scream, to hurl the phone into the street and watch it shatter into irreparable pieces, as if that would somehow undo the splintering inside him. But instead, his anger collapsed inward, folding into a hollow resignation. 

He shoved the phone into his pocket with a rough, jerking motion, his breaths shallow and uneven. He reached for a cigarette with the same hand, fingers trembling as they pulled it free. His lighter almost instantly lit the edge into a fiery smoke.

The first drag burned, the bitter smoke searing his throat and filling his lungs. It didn’t matter. He needed the distraction, needed something to keep him grounded when it felt like the world had slipped from beneath his feet. He lit the next one before the first was even finished, the acrid haze curling around him like a suffocating ghost.

He kept walking. The city stretched out before him, a labyrinth of muted lights and shadows that felt more hostile than familiar. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional distant wail of a siren or the shuffle of a stray figure in the dark. Cold wind bit at his skin, cutting through the thin jacket he hadn’t bothered to zip up.

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

This was the last time you’ll see each other.

He was going to do his plan soon enough.

And you won’t see him again, not ever again.

[semihearts]

Wait you think I’m pretty?

Pairing: Thanos x reader

Summary: Thanos and you are childhood friends and joined the game together, when he almost mess up during a game for being too high, he understands that you cant loose him… because you love him

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hope you like this one!! Feel free to leave opinions and suggestions <3

༺ ༽♡༼ ༻

When you agreed on joining some shit game Thanos was talking about all week, you could never guess that they weren’t just normal games, but actually deadly ones.

-‘’Where the fuck did you get us in Thanos? I swear I’ll kill you”. -“Senorita relax!! This first game was easy, ,we’ll make out of here alive with all that money”.

You and Thanos are friends since you can remember, and honestly you can never get used to his weird personality and he still manages to get you surprised all the time. Of course he brought with him his necklace, which is full of surprises as well, but you didn’t expect that in a place like this, his first concern was to get high as hell.

During lights out, Thanos would get in your bed and lay with you, and you knew he never slept. Maybe its the effects of the drugs, but you like to believe that he’s taking care of you - and you’re actually correct, he could never sleep knowing that there’s even crazier people then him a few steps away, who knows what they would try to do to you if he weren’t close -.

During mingle, he always made sure to grab your hand and tried to stay focused, even though he was literally seeing rainbows and unicorns - all thanks to the colored pills on his cross-. When the robotic voice said Two, he already knew who to pick. You ran first to secure a room, but once you got there… where the fuck was Thanos?

In the middle of the room, there he was. Completely still, with a confused face, and lost eyes, is he out of his mind??

-‘’Thanos!! Thanos what the hell are you doing?” You screamed his name but it seemed like he was in another world

10, 9, 8…

You ran towards him, grabbed his arm and ran, of course there was people getting in the room you secured before, as you had to leave it. Thanos was clearly off, his life was in a thin line and he had no reaction or expression. This game is about surviving, even if it means killing others, and that’s the thought you stuck to.

Using all your willpower, you managed to push those players out of the room and drag Thanos inside, locking the door.

-“Thanos!” Nothing -“Thanos!!” Nothing -“Su-bong!” His eyes were immediately on you.

Like he just woke up from a bad dream, his eyes found yours, he was awake. You never called him by his real name, which is almost dead to him, he is Thanos, that’s him now, he’s way happier being this new person.

‘’What- what just happened? Oh my God Senorita I’m literally sooo high right now-“

‘’Im tired of this, really Thanos. You could’ve died right there, all thanks to these stupid pills. But of course you never listen to me when I tell you to not use them before a game. I don’t know why out of everyone I chose to love you! You’re a complete idiot”.

“Wait did you just confess?”

“That you’re a jerk?”

“Nah fuck that, you just said that you love me girl”.

[tenjikufag]

dude im a cornball and a hornball at thr same time and i found out when i saw jiyans slutty ahh WAIST 😍 SO i humbly request for jiyan x top male reader smut 😭 maybe after a td outbreak hes all tired n stuff so reader takes care of him the whole night <33

Reward.

Jiyan x Top!Male Reader

-SMUT!, fluffy, sub(?) Jiyan etc it’s smut there’s nothing more to it ?

-THANK YOU FOR THE REQ!! I adore this man. Going from story line though ah hope that’s okay.

Jiyan groaned, his body and mind tired from the TD outbreak and having to attend the summer games almost directly afterwards. Rover was a nice change of pace to have around, made his own life easier and eased a lot of social tension present from attending while being.. well him. He’s the general, and anyone under him would feel a certain way about having him in their party.

But, none of that mattered because he wanted nothing more than to return home to you- you’d been one of the resonators to stay back to protect the city borders and while you were absolutely fine and unscathed.. he couldn’t keep you out of his thoughts the whole time.

His body craved to feel you after it all, with everything being so crazy since Rover had woken and almost seemingly set off every catalyst to the impending outbreak.. you weren’t around nearly enough for his liking.

—

Jiyan felt his feet start to drag, his ankles almost jelly when the home the two of you shared came into view. A soft smile teased his lips when he finally reached the front door.

“Ji? Is that you?”

Your voice released the tension he held in his jaw and shoulders; quickly he followed your voice, without a single second wasted his arms wrapped around your torso.

“It’s nice to see you too, love. Go get washed up and I’ll have your clothes and blankets ready on the bed..”

“Just let me hold you for a moment longer..”

Smiling, you let him squeeze you. You could feel how tense his joints were, his new scratches and bruises would surely appear within the next hours but you’d tend to them when he was clean. The male finally, but reluctantly, let go and made his way to the bathroom to shower.

You were relieved to know he was relatively okay, obviously exhausted but okay nonetheless. It was time to prep his reward, a massage!

It was routine.

—

Setting his things out on the bed, the water shut off and he slinked out of the bathroom, followed by the steam.

“Lay down, I have everything ready. Just relax.”

His long damp hair cascaded down his body, swaying with every step he took to lay down on the bed- stomach down and he cuddled into the pillows.

Squirting a bit of lotion into your hands, you warmed it up and started from his legs up.

Your partner had no real reaction aside from sighs of relief but when you started his thighs, he started to moan.

“Right there, ugh.. press deeper..”

Chuckling, you complied. The higher you went, more he moaned and whined.

His waist and back were the most sensitive.

And you loved teasing him..

Digging your thumbs into his hips, he whined and arched his back. You circled around the flesh, relishing in his shaky breathes and the way he gripped the sheets.

“Don’t get too excited Jiyan, we aren’t even half way..”

Leaning up to his ear, you whispered to him and gave him light praises.

“You did such a good job, general.. I’m so glad I get to make you feel so good~”

Gliding your thumbs up his sides, you rubbed inwards to his tacet mark.

Not many non resonators knew, but a tacet mark is incredibly sensitive. Despite needing to be exposed to be used, the marking was sensitive to the touch.

Jiyan adored when you touched it, making his body flush with arousal at the tender care you took with each pass you made at it.

The male laid huffing under you, blush evident from his ears.

“So lewd, general. I almost think you’d want something else, Hm?”

You brought your hand towards his glutes and massaged deeply into the plush flesh. Earning a breathy moan from him.

“I want my reward.. please..”

“Oh? What’s that? What does my sweet boy want?”

“It’s my reward, please.. stop messing around..”

Smiling softly, you complied. Getting off the bed and grabbing oils. Returning to the bed you kneeled behind him, his legs straddled under your own.

“I apologize, you’re right. You did so well, such a good job, and still managed to come back to me~ how lucky am I?”

Massaging the oil onto his ass, you slowly made you ways towards his entrance- lightly separating his cheeks and letting oil drip onto his hole.

The male was already moaning freely under you, twitching slightly every time you ghosted over his entrance.

“Are you ready?”

He groaned out a “yes please” and that would have to suffice for now.

Scooping more oil into your hand, you toyed around the rim and slipped a finger in. His ass clenched around your finger before relaxing, allowing you to move around.

It wasn’t long until you slipped two in, then three.

Jiyan raised his hips, almost chasing after your hand every time you pulled out.

“Such a good boy. So good for me.”

Reaching your hand around, you grabbed his hard dick- it was throbbing in your hand and all of his precum made it easy to start jerking him off.

He moved his head to the side to peak at you behind him, mouth open and gasping.

“More. Give me more.”

Pulling away your hands, you wiped them off on the towel beside your partner.

You undressed, far too slow for your partners liking. He flipped to lay on his back and raised his legs for you.

His face was flushed, a faint dribble of drool on the corner of his lips.. he was a sight to behold, truly.

You loomed over him, tip barely poking into him as you looked into his glazed eyes. Leaning down, you caught his lips and he eagerly accepted- letting your tongue explore his mouth and bite his lips.

He whimpered when you pulled away, only to quickly clasp a hand over his mouth when you finally slid into him.

“You gotta relax Ji.. your squeezin’ too hard..”

Hissing, his ass almost painfully gripped you and sucked you in deeper. You leaned down again and kissed his neck to ease his tightness. The more he moaned, the less pressure you felt around you.

When he was finally relaxed, you started thrusting into his at an even, mild, pace. Just like he liked.

This was a reward after all, he needed to be pampered and cared for.

With every thrust, he gasped and tried to grab something. Whether it was the sheets, his own hair, your arms, anything. His need to grab something always led to him pulling you close and scratching your back out of desperation.

His nails dug into your skin as he cried in pleasure. You hissed with every pass his nails made, running over the same spots over and over.

“I’m gonna..”

He came all over his stomach, eyes tightly held shut. His body tensed, letting go of you and breathing heavily.

Smiling, you licked your lips and pecked his cheek before leaning up and placing your hands on his tiny waist.

Circling your thumbs on the soft flesh, you picked up the pace. Making him gasp, putting his hands up to pull at his own hair and arching his back. He bit his lips the faster you went, abuse on his prostate made his vision hazy and almost let him choke on his drool.

The heat in your abdomen built, your own gasping mixing with the gasps from the male under you.

“Alright love, quickly.. fuck.. in or out..”

“In. Don’t you dare pull out.”

He glared up at you, as if you’d asked him the dumbest question ever before going back to being a gasping moaning mess.

Nodding, you kept up the pace and the burning became a wave of warmth as you came inside him.

Jiyan twitched under you, his last orgasm riding out with your load inside him.

He laid there, trying to catch his breathe. You smiled softly at him, giving him another kiss and peppering soft pecks around his face.

“Good boy, you did a great job. I’m proud of you.”

He only groaned, making you laugh lightly.

[dayas]

8 + elphaba & fiyero?

8 ⧽. giving them unabashed heart eyes when they do something cute and getting caught

AHHH MY FIRST FIYERABA PROMPT I AM SO EXCITED!!! I’ve been wanting to write for them since I got out of Wicked last week. Hopefully this is okay!

—

Fiyero Tigelaar isn’t exactly known for thinking. In fact, all he’s ever projected to his fellow students is that he doesn’t think, that he simply dances through life and refuses to invite further stresses and woes in with further consideration. And yet. He hasn’t been able to keep her out of his mind. Elphaba Thropp, the spirited, stunning witch he’d nearly trampled on accident in the forest. She’s the very reason he finds himself in the library of all places, a location he actively avoids. Books are mirrors just as much as they are windows into different worlds, and the last thing he wants to do is risk seeing himself reflected within the pages of some myth or legend.

She’s sitting at her favorite table, her head bent, her braids pulled back away from her face. Her finger traces a singular line a few times over before it moves on, winding itself around the ends of a few of her braids. She’s reading (no surprise there), but what catches his eye isn’t what she’s doing. It’s that she’s smiling. Fiyero doesn’t think he has ever seen Elphaba smile, not like the one she wears now. Something soft and secret, wholly hers, belonging to no one else. Unbeknownst to him, his own face mirrors her expression, a soft smile settled upon his lips. He watches her because he can’t help himself, because he’s still intrigued by her even when she’s silent.

“I can see you, you know.”

Elphaba’s eyes flicker up, catching his gaze and holding it hostage. Fiyero doesn’t flinch, only shrugs.

“I wasn’t certain you could. You’re missing your glasses today. I’m glad to know you’re so attuned to my presence, though.” Her eyes roll quickly, and that same fondness appears in his.

“Maybe in your dreams, Tigelaar.”

“So you dream about me, Thropp?”

She shakes her head, and he flashes a charming grin at her.

“What exactly happens in these dreams?”

“What do you want? You were staring rather intensely, so you must want something.”

Fiyero moves closer to her, settling a few steps away from where she is seated.

“Can’t a man admire beauty from afar?”

Elphaba frowns immediately.

“You don’t have to lie.”

He shocks himself by lowering his voice, the softness of his tone matched evenly by its authenticity.

“I’m not lying.”

Something flashes behind Elphaba’s eyes. He can’t tell what it is — she tears her gaze away from his before he is able to determine it.

When she speaks, it is barely audible.

“Why were you looking at me like that?”

Her eyes, so wide, a beautifully deep green, return to seek his out. The prince’s words are barely above a whisper, the blue of his own eyes holding hers steadily.

“You know why.”

Elphaba takes a sharp breath, biting down on her lip. She takes her book and stands abruptly, nearly running into him in her rush to leave.

“Elphaba — ” Fiyero says, confused, laying a gentle hand on her wrist to stop her. He’s thankful she does, and he uses his other hand to brush his fingers beneath her chin, turning her head so he can see her face. He’s shocked to find tears welling up in her eyes.

“You are a lot of things, Fiyero,” she whispers, her voice shaking, “but I never thought you were cruel. Not like this.”

“You don’t have to believe me.”

His own whisper is an impassioned blurt.

“You don’t have to believe me, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. That what I feel for you isn’t real.”

“It can’t be real.”

“It is.”

They are locked in a stalemate he never expected, but one he refuses to leave first. He feels it, when she begins to break down. He takes a step closer, cupping her cheek in his hand, his other holding hers.

“Tell me you don’t feel it too.”

He will leave her alone, he will, if she doesn’t. She’s close enough to him that their chests brush together with every breath they take.

“I can’t.”

The sound of heels clicking cuts through their moment.

“Meet me tonight,” Fiyero murmurs into her ear, “the woods. Eight o’clock.” Elphaba nods, and he takes off then, nearly crashing into Galinda as she puts herself in his path.

“There you are!” she chirps, as bright and bubbly as ever, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dearest.”

Fiyero lets her steer him away from the outside of the library and chatter on. He doesn’t hear a word she says; he’s too busy thinking of what will come when the sun sets and he can finally see the woman’s who’s forced him into thinking again.