#like genuinely would love to know how it feels to be that not self aware

[rosenotactuallyquartz]

i can’t be the only one who thinks rose’s flings with humans were partially self destructive

rebecca sugar often describes rose as self destructive. people self destruct in many ways.

i say this as a girl who’s been in relationships where i knew i was treated poorly but subconsciously believed it was what i deserved. if a good person who knew me well showed interest, i’d feel confused. i think you’re so good and i’m nothing like you type of thing.

(if you couldn’t already tell, i also deal with self hatred, though i’m a lot more self aware than i used to be)

rose saw the good in everyone but herself. she was naive, impulsive, & had a tendency to “worship” those around her, believing they were better than her. she was fascinated by humans but didn’t know the norms or labels of human relationships. she didn’t know or understand much about humans, period. i.e., letting a human baby climb a ferris wheel in greg the babysitter.

rose was initially drawn to humans out of fascination. she saw so much beauty in the most simple parts of humanity.

but people don’t always have the best intentions

i can’t help but wonder if some people took advantage, knowing that rose didn’t understand everything about human relationships. for some humans, i’m in no doubt that they found her intriguing & her powers were obviously beneficial for them, but they didn’t respect her or care to try & get to know her. i’m sure some humans weren’t horrible, but clearly her connections with all of them until the 90s were unremarkable. they’d be attracted to her for surface level reasons.

rose thought this was just how human connections worked. even though it would feel…bad sometimes, rose believed she deserved to feel that way. after all, she said herself that it was “a good thing” if people didn’t know her well.

she didn’t think she deserved genuine love from someone who truly knew her, someone who knew her past self. when a relationship felt good, she’d feel guilty, despite deeply & genuinely loving that person who cared for her.

that’s why she’s so surprised when a human treats her with decency in we need to talk. why she laughs when he says the word respect. why she says, “is this not how this works?”

she’s never had a relationship with a human that was caring & respectful. having conversations about respect & wanting to get to know a person are very simple things. this doesn’t make him “better” than any of the crystal gems—he’s just better than the other humans she knew.

as the next three years go by, rose continues to be self destructive. they don’t know about each other’s pasts & they have a shared coping mechanism: escapism. this is why sugar has said that they enable each other, which is unfortunate yet unsurprising because they cope in similar ways. she never opens up to him about her feelings surrounding past trauma, and he doesn’t either—even when some serious decisions are made. rose couldn’t stand herself & she didn’t feel deserving of love. the more people know about her, the less deserving she feels, which makes her avoidant & confusing in relationships.

nevertheless, she genuinely loves those around her, which is partly why she passes her life on to someone she believes deserves to live & be loved more than she does

as she said in nora’s tape in lion 4, i’m so excited for everyone who’s going to know you. from the very start, she believed that the best thing she could do for the people she loved was leave behind someone who deserved to be around them. someone who was worth loving.

with all of that said i hate the way the fandom talks about her character sometimes

[itspileofgoodthings]

Also it’s really fascinating because in a certain way Austen finds the trope of redemption through romance/good girl fixes bad boy dead but in an even realer way Henry is just the wrong candidate for it. Or, to be even more accurate, the setup of Henry and Fanny is the wrong match for it and that’s what makes it funny. The truth is that Henry objectifies her, NOT physically. His appreciation of her beauty is hands down the most romantic thing he feels for her but he objectifies her morals and her goodness, in essence: her character. He, and in a different but equally real way Mary treat Fanny like a doll and every time she does something of quality they react with surprise and delight as if a doll had done it. The fact that the surprise and delight are genuine makes it worse because it’s even more objectifying. They’re like “look at the doll speak! The doll said something incisive and profound! The doll doesn’t even know of what quality she is made because she’s so simple! Noble simplicity!” And it is objectively condescending and—not to beat a dead horse here!!!— truly objectifying. They both see and sense her superiority to the rest of Mansfield but that doesn’t mean that they treat her like a person. Henry makes much of her, refuses to listen to what she actually wants, enlists Sir Thomas against her, feels no scruple whatsoever about putting pressure on her, and doesn’t know her well enough to know that she does “know her own mind” despite not knowing her own manner. He’s also the wrong candidate for this trope because he’s too knowing and observant. He KNOWS he’s in the trope. He’s kind of like “hmmm Fanny redeeming me, Fanny changing me, wow, love to consider it from a moral aesthetic point of view, what a flower in her cap that would be and how it would stick it to the rest of the Mansfield crew” and so he’s not set up to be surprised or charmed into compassion and real love 1) because he’s self-aware of the good it would do him and 2) because he gets ahead of the good by manipulating it for his own schemes. Alleviating boredom/sticking it to Mansfield and co. being the two main ones for as far as I can tell. He even knows that if he just waits, if he just holds out that “absence, time, and distance,” as he says, will speak for him. Will clear his way. Will work on Fanny’s heart. Because it IS a powerful trope for a reason! And especially if Edmund was out of the picture re: Mary what else would there be for her to do? But that’s the thing. He SEES the truth of it and sees the inevitability of it but only because he’s thinking of this in terms of winning—winning her, but also just winning at the scheme, pulling the con. True love doesn’t do that. The absence, time, and distance of which he’s speaking would be enacted by someone with a loving heart in such a different way because it would just be the simple act of compassion and not wanting to trouble the beloved that would be the motivator. It would be Darcy going back to his normal life after the Hunsford proposal with no intention of winning Lizzy back or determination to pursue her or need to clarify anything past the letter but still with love in his heart for her. Henry doesn’t have that love and never did and so cannot be changed by it. He plays the stakes of it all like a game and because Fanny isn’t playing it at all he loses, in every possible way.

[ickypuppi3]

just interesting how the “hellcheer is ‘problematic’ because [something about ages]” people never seem to talk about karen and billy

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Do you ever read a post where someone is explaining a pokitical thing and from the way they're saying you know with absolute certainty 1) they got their info from a tumblr post and have never actually followed up on how feasible that information actually is to act upon (they may not even have checked if it was CORRECT, but when they do they have clearly not looked into how easy or hard it may be to follow those instructions with a positive outcome), and 2) you know WHICH tumblr post they're quoting because it is basically a copy/paste of it, and 3) it was YOUR goddamn post and the thing they are saying is entirely counter to the point you were making when you said it to the point that you genuinely wonder if they just like. Memory-holed the entire context once they saw that one itty bitty point.

It's like the motherfuckiny dating apps all over again. I do not want people to love my words if they are not actually willing to do the work of understanding them! Didn't your kindergarten ever make you play Telephone to teach you how heresay falls out????

[iamnotlookingidonotseeit]

sometimes I tell my parents things. often then i wonder why i even open my mouth. but when I keep it light I end up wondering why I can't seem to connect on any real kind of level. and I add another thing to the list for therapy

[homunculus-argument]

One of the most fun character concepts that I've had that I've never been able to fit into anything is The Most Appropriate Socialite Lady. Nobody dislikes her, but she is, indeed, very Appropriate, always seeming to do everything precisely to social etiquette, even according to social rules that nobody else knew were a thing. If there is a protocol to how to behave or respond in any given situation, no matter how obscure or how long ago it was that this was written down in some Refined Society Etiquette Book, she'll know it. So she is a bit old-fashioned sometimes, but not in a regressive way.

Every time there's a situation where nobody actually knows what the right way to respond would be, they quietly glance at her, because either she knows exactly how to handle this, or if the situation truly is without precedent, her educated guess of what should be done must be the right one. Someone might even write it down for a future etiquette book, of how This Most Polite Well-Mannered Lady responded to this awkward situation.

She doesn't judge people, and is never rude about people breaking Good Manner Rules on purpose (as pointing out someone doing so would be impolite), but the way she seems genuinely surprised and confused whenever someone breaks the protocol that nobody else might even been aware of makes people feel self-conscious or awkward sometimes. And she politely pretends to not notice that. She is very kind, very sweet, but also extremely Appropriate.

So even if this isn't a Victorian style gentlemanly "fine ladies are fragile and must be sheltered from the world"-style society by default, people still feel the need to behave well and be on their best formal behaviour around her, not out of fear of judgement but because she genuinely is that way and nobody wants to upset her. And if someone who doesn't give a shit about protocols upsets her on purpose by deliberately doing something that's fucking rude, they'll be discreetly moved to a different location before getting the shit beat out of them because fuck you for upsetting her.

The thing is, she's actually just autistic as hell. She originally started reading up on social etiquette as a way of masking, but it became a special interest for her, and she isn't just thrilled to teach you how to properly fold a napkin to help you better fit in to the Refined Society, but because she fucking loves infodumping. She's not trying to set herself apart, gatekeep, judge others or show off how she's better than you (like many others of her background would), she just genuinely enjoys having explicitly and clearly written rules and instructions on how to behave in society.

Also the tactful and graceful way in which she doesn't pay notice to veiled insults, or people accidentally saying something insulting to her, isn't always an act. A lot of the time she genuinely just does not notice.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

CALL MY NAME AND I'LL COME RUNNING ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru can be irritating, at times. but even if you push him away, he’ll always, always be there for you when you need him.

word count; 8.7k (this was supposed to b a short drabble but i was possessed by the devil halfway through)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, reader n toru have a fight, mild swearing (a couple fucks here n there), hurt/comfort, satoru has communication issues but he’s trying his best, depictions of stalking (reader gets followed by a random creep but satoru comes to the rescue dw), uhh implied thoughts of violence? (satoru wants to Maul said dude but doesn’t), literally just me being in love with satoru gojo for 8.7k words straight

a/n; no thoughts head empty only gojo running through the streets like a wild beast looking for u <33 im normal about him yeah.

“you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?”

satoru smiles. the sentence isn’t one he’s unaccustomed to hearing.

usually, the words are soaked in an undeniable fondness, as they spill from your lips. rich with exasperated love. one that never fails to have the corners of satoru’s lips curling up, a mellow kind of joy blossoming in his chest.

but now, that fondness is nowhere to be found. 

you sound thoroughly exasperated, and a little bit fatigued. more than anything else, there’s a vague irritation behind the tilt of your voice, something almost cold. it makes all the difference in the world. 

and yet, despite that, a certain someone chooses to pay no heed to the bad omen.

“aw, c’mon. you know you love me, baby.”

satoru is grinning. lighthearted, awfully sweet. there’s a certain smugness to it, though, one he couldn’t wash away even if he was aware of it; you wouldn’t do so even if you could. that smugness is a part of him, one that you’d usually find endearing. 

but right now, it only seeks to further your frustration.

it was a stupid fight, truthfully. completely meaningless. satoru had forgotten to pick up after himself for, like, the fourth consecutive time, and so you grew annoyed. not by a lot, but enough that you felt the need to be firm when you reminded him not to make the same mistake over and over again.

but satoru had only grinned, in that self-satisfied fashion of his, and apologized in a way you couldn’t possibly call sincere. then he did what he usually does — promises to work on it. to not do it again. he never follows through, though.

but even that thought wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you truly angry. what really began to irk you was the fact that satoru wasn’t taking you seriously, even in the slightest.

that’s how he always is, when it comes to this kind of thing. and you try to be patient, you do. you try to be understanding. sometimes you even appreciate that he keeps the atmosphere light, but other times, you just can’t help but feel irritated by it.

and the current situation happens to fall into the latter category.

you don’t care if satoru leaves a candy wrapper or two out, every once in a while. of course you don’t. it’s a silly thing to argue about. but would it hurt for him to just listen to you? to try to put himself in your shoes, for once? it’s not about the wrappers, or the undone dishes. it’s about the way he treats you when you complain about it — like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t matter. even if it obviously does, to you.

so, gradually, the topic of your little argument began to shift, into a conversation about satoru. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to talk about the things that bother you in a serious fashion. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to take you seriously.

and he just keeps proving your point, with every word that falls from his lips.

at this point, you’re genuinely beginning to feel a little angry. but satoru doesn’t see that as the warning sign it is — he just thinks it’s cute. he’s just been cooing at you, this whole time, despite your numerous attempts to actually explain how much his behavior affects you sometimes. it feels a bit like talking to a wall. satoru keeps on teasing you, even as you try to be firm about your point, and only brushes you off with empty promises to do better and more unneeded comments about how much he wants to hug you when you pout like that.

and you falter, a little. of course you do. you’re weak to satoru. weak to his words, that sweet voice of his, that pretty grin. but that only makes everything worse, because if you let yourself look even a little bit flustered at his comments, he sees that as his cue to continue.

you don’t even know if he’s doing it on purpose, at this point. is he doing it because he knows it’ll annoy you, or does he genuinely not understand that you’re upset? you’d like to think that there’s no malicious intent behind it, but can’t he see how troubled you are? you don’t get it. you don’t get him, and that frustrates you most of all. satoru can be so goddamn convoluted, sometimes.

so you simply can’t help but feel annoyed. angry, even. how long have you been arguing for, at this point? you’re not sure. but you feel the frustration inside of you grow, as the minutes tick by, into something you know will eventually explode.

a sigh falls from your lips, deep and exasperated. a little bit exhausted. “i’m serious, satoru. you’re not even listening.”

“i am!” he protests, stubbornly. childishly. “you just look so cute when you’re all mad. not my fault you’re so distracting.”

satoru smiles, voice sugar sweet, but all you can do is frown. does he really think it’s cute that you’re upset? the thought makes you somewhat sad. but you can’t show that, can’t let that part of you win — you don’t even want to think about the possibility of you crying, because of this. yeah, no way in hell. 

so instead, you channel it into anger. as the blood inside your veins comes to a boiling point, you dig your nails into the skin of your palms, gnawing at your bottom lip and shifting from one foot to another.

”satoru, i’m —” another sigh, sharp and vexed like the blade of a knife. ”i’m trying to have a serious conversation, here. can’t you see that i’m upset?”

satoru takes a moment to look at you, from behind the black glass of his shades.

he can. of course he can see that. you’re frowning, and there’s a crease between your brows, and you keep huffing and sighing every three seconds — you’re obviously, undoubtedly upset. and satoru wants to take you seriously, he does. it’s just that the part of his brain that only ever wants to coddle and tease you keeps persuading him not to.

he’s not lying, either; you do look cute. almost too cute to take seriously, when you’re pouting so sweetly, a little red in the face from all the frustration bubbling inside your chest. you look so small, glaring up at him like an angry puppy. 

satoru can’t help but smile. it’d be impossible not to.

and he will listen to you, will take you seriously. he knows you’re angry, knows you’re upset, and he intends to deal with that properly. but he doesn’t need to do it right now.

just a little more teasing, before he has to stop beating around the bush. satoru dreads it, a little bit, dreads having to genuinely be serious, be open and apologetic. it always feels so strange, so discomforting. 

all that stuff can wait until later. for now, he just wants to see you blush a little more, huff and puff at his limitless affection, that he knows you love deep down. where’s the harm?

(and therein lies the problem. satoru is observant, and typically good at seeing the line that he shouldn’t cross when it comes to you. but there are times when he slips up, times when he doesn’t realize that his words have begun to sting. times when the line becomes blurry, because he knows some part of you enjoys the way he babies you, and sometimes it blinds him to the part of you that doesn’t.)

satoru is smiling. it’s the same as always — big, bright, glazed over with honey-sweet adoration. smug and teasing. it’s such a satoru-like smile that it makes your breath hitch, sometimes, makes your heart race with wonder. but now all it does is annoy you. everything you love about satoru is annoying you, right now. 

in your eyes, that pretty smile of his seems almost taunting. like he’s trying to pick a fight with you, trying to make you even more upset. you don’t want to blow up over something like this, you really really don’t — but for some reason, you feel dangerously close to. it’s not like you at all.

you bore into his eyes with a cold glare, even though you can’t exactly see them with his shades in the way. posture straight and rigid as you try to make yourself look bigger. you must look at least a little bit menacing, like this. right?

“i’m seriously angry with you,” you say, hoping your voice sounds as austere to his ears as it does to yours. “don’t you get that?”

satoru coos, unable to hold the sound back. he doesn’t notice the flicker of hurt in your eyes, only focusing on how the sunset rays frame your figure, kissing your skin with sun-soaked fervor. you look so pretty. and that angry look on your face is too tantalizing not to tease.

“aww,” he croons, inching closer to you. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes that you can’t see, unmistakably fond. “is my little baby that upset?”

you blink. his voice sounds even more sugar-sweet now, obviously exaggerated. there’s amusement there, too — like this is just one big joke to him. you think he must be doing it to belittle you, to embarrass you. speaking to you like you’re some kind of grumpy toddler, and not a grown adult trying to have a serious conversation with their partner. your blood boils, boils, boils.

— and so the cup overflows.

“oh, go fuck yourself.”

it’s almost in a hiss that the words fall from your lips, cold and harsh; they leave the confines of your throat before you have a chance to reconsider them, sudden and sickeningly heavy. crude, too. you’d never be so crass with him under normal circumstances.

but you’re overwhelmed, thoroughly and completely, and satoru is being particularly infuriating. you genuinely feel hurt by the way he’s disregarding your feelings, and that realization stings more than anything. 

so you can’t help but say the words, louder than you meant to, before turning on your heel swiftly and walking out of the room. 

you don’t even have time to register what you’re doing, legs moving on their own before your mind can catch up. brisk and heavy steps carry you to the door, all while you furiously attempt to blink away the tears of frustration that begin to form in your eyes.

it only takes a second for you to grab your jacket — then you’re out.

satoru hears the front door close, echoing off the walls of your apartment. you don’t quite slam it shut, but you close it with more force than usual, and he can’t help but inwardly wince.

a moment passes. 

then, he flops down on the couch, lanky arms and legs dangling uncomfortably off the edges. the groan that slips from his lips is muffled by the soft cushion as he burrows his face into it, while replaying your interaction inside his mind.

satoru can’t help but feel uncomfortable, with this conclusion. a little bit irked. a vague something rests inside his chest, something he doesn’t quite want to admit to feeling. it makes him feel a little bit sick.

(”oh, go fuck yourself.”)

he can’t recall you ever raising your voice at him like that. when it comes to him, you’re usually so patient; soft, understanding, gentle. for you to have snapped in such a way — to have stormed out of the apartment in your anger — he must have pushed you pretty far.

satoru sighs.

he really pissed you off, huh?

(he can never quite seem to get this right, can he?)

it was never his intention to make you genuinely mad. he just lost sight of the line, for a second. that’s all.

and maybe he was also trying to avoid the issue, trying to avoid actually arguing with you. because he hates it. he hates it more than anything. satoru would much rather see you smile and blush than act all serious and sad. 

he just wanted to make you laugh.

was it insensitive? yeah, probably. he just can’t help but fuck this up, it seems. now he’s gone and made you angry — and as much as the sight would usually thrill him, as cute as you look when you’re irritated, a pit of anxiety settles in his gut. everything just feels wrong.

more than anything, satoru feels restless. because, right now, there’s nothing he can do. he can’t chase after you, even if just to apologize — that’d make you even angrier.

he knows he needs to give you space. you were obviously overwhelmed; some fresh air will do you good.

it irks him, though. satoru wants to fix it. he always wants to fix everything, before it even breaks. and even now, all his mind can do is spin in circles, wondering how he could possibly cheer you up.

he’ll just have to apologize, when you get back. and hope you forgive him. maybe he can get you something sweet to munch on, or a bouquet of flowers. would that make everything okay again?

satoru doesn’t know. so he just scratches his head, and tries his damndest not to think of how defeated you looked before leaving.

your steps are heavy, dragging you forward, leading you somewhere you have no knowledge of. it’s chilly out, and the sun is already setting.

everything in the world feels so wrong. like it’s tilted slightly to the left, like the earth stopped spinning around its axis. like everything suddenly lost its saturation. 

you just needed to get away from him, for a while. away from that smug smile, that patronizing tilt of his voice. you couldn’t even stand to be in the same apartment as him. it’s not often you feel that way, not often at all. 

and it only increases your growing frustration. 

you are beginning to calm down, though — you know you are. the crisp evening air and the pleasant mingle of people soothes your muddled senses, smoothing down the crease of your brow and the ache in your chest.

a heavy discomfort, and a growing guilt. that’s all you can feel, as the anger slowly seeps out of you, turning into vapour with every exhale of your breath.

you hate arguing with satoru. you hate it more than anything. the guilt clawing at your chest barely leaves any room for anger — you almost yelled at him. just the thought of doing that to satoru makes you want to cry.

because you love him, at the end of the day, even when he’s being absolutely insufferable. he’s a sweetheart, your sweet boy, always trying to lighten the mood and make you smile. maybe you should have been a bit more understanding; you know satoru’s bad at this stuff, bad with emotions and vulnerability. and deep down, you know he’d never hurt you, not on purpose.

he probably just didn’t realize that you were genuinely upset. it’s a mistake that anyone could make.

but it just makes you feel so frustrated. like he’s not even looking at you. always hiding behind those shades, never opening up. never letting you see him wear anything but a smile. you want him to take it slow, open up to you at his own pace, but that doesn’t make the wait sting any less.

it’s not like you were asking for a lot. first, you simply asked him to pick up after himself. the way you do, the way anyone does. then, you simply asked him to treat you with respect.

a sudden pang of bitterness runs through your chest. sure, you could’ve handled it all better — but he could have, too.

every step you take hits the pavement with an irritated kind of decision. whatever. whatever. for now, you don’t want to think about it — all you want is to walk around and take in the sights, enjoy the peace and quiet.

so that’s exactly what you do.

before you know it, the sun has set, and the moon has risen — shining down and painting the streets in a mesmerizing blue, ephemeral and tranquil. it’s enough to give you some peace of mind, as you lurk around familiar streets, soaking in all the open space. so different from that suffocating apartment, and the man inside it, with that shit-eating grin and those breathtaking eyes.

(he’s called you, a couple times. you haven’t been gone for long — an hour or so, you think, maybe two. some part of you wanted to answer, just to hear his voice through the phone, but the part of you that’s still awfully irritated shut that down immediately. so, stubbornly, you just let it ring.)

the streets are empty, and the sky is dark. the light of all the lampposts illuminate your way, along with the soft flicker of the moon and stars. an endless galaxy stretches out before your eyes, little pale dots of stardust shining like jewels.

an ever-lasting, never-changing sky, that continues on for infinity. limitless. all the space you could possibly want, and then some.

for a moment, you can only look at the glittering stars in wonder, soaking in the feeling of absolute solitude. 

��� it doesn’t last, though.

“you alone?”

a sudden voice calls out from behind you. close, discerningly so, enough to make you flinch. you curse yourself for not noticing anything sooner, caught up in looking at the starry sky, in angling your phone to take a picture of it.

hesitantly, you turn your gaze towards the sound — wincing under your breath when you see the man a couple steps away from you. he looks a little crazed, you think, shifting from foot to foot and hunching over. 

oh fuck no.

great, just what you needed. that’s just your luck, isn’t it? your brain can only spin in circles, trying to get your body to react, to run. to do literally anything except just stand there like a deer caught in headlights.

in your nervosity, all you manage is a painfully awkward laugh, as you stutter out a halfhearted response.

“oh — no, i’m just waiting for my boyfriend!” you smile, unconvincingly. your face must be soaked in unease. whatever he wants with you, it can’t be anything good.

at least you said that one word clearly — boyfriend. you can only hope it’s enough to scare him away.

but the man only shifts a little more, emitting a gruff kind of hum, not saying anything else. your spine tingles with apprehension. every cell in your body wants you to leave. he seems a little intoxicated, you think, and the thought only stirs the anxious feeling in your chest further.

god. why does this have to happen to you? why now?

thankfully, you’ve got your phone in hand. as your mind scrambles for solutions, your fingers tap at the screen, urgently scrolling through your contacts. in such a frightened state, your acting must be positively awful, but you make a vague attempt. not like you’re getting any oscars for this, either way.

“sorry — he’s calling me now!” you stammer out, taking a step away from the man. he doesn’t make a move to follow you, so you take your chances and press your phone to your ear, feet carrying you forward with haste.

in your fear, you don’t think twice about calling satoru — but you can’t help but internally wince at the decision, as the anxious patter of your own heart resounds in your ears.

how are you supposed to talk to him, exactly? what are you supposed to say? hey, i know i just told you to go fuck yourself, but will you hear me out? i need your help. 

and you do. you do need his help. all you want is for him to swoop in, to take you in his arms, your knight in shining armor.

satoru’s said it to you, before — that if you need anything, anything at all, you can come to him. that you can always, always lean on him, without exception. 

you know that he likes helping you. likes it when you open up to him, when you put your trust in him. when you aren’t afraid to ask for his help.

so despite everything, you hold your phone to your ear, walking away with brisk steps and praying that he’s not petty enough to ignore your call like you did to his.

back home, satoru is still resting on the couch, tapping his feet and trying to distract himself. 

he’s a little anxious. it’s dark out, and you’re not answering any of his calls. when you’re out of sight, like this, he can’t help but feel a little helpless — worried about everything that could happen to you. but it’s not like he can force you to pick up. 

you’re probably at a friend’s house, or something. telling them all about what an asshole your boyfriend is. as much as the thought stings, satoru hopes it’s true; it’s all he can comfort himself with. anything is fine as long as you aren’t out walking alone, in the cold, in the dark.

entirely caught up in his spiralling thoughts, satoru almost flinches when the phone rings. laying on the table in front of him, just within arm’s reach. it only takes a second for him to react as his gaze flits to the bright screen, and he sees the contact name, the many heart emojis littering it.

with a start, satoru jumps up. his back straightens out, and his hand flies to grab the phone — he’d feel embarrassed at his own eagerness, but right now he just can’t help it. even under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t let the phone ring more than twice, always giddy to hear your voice whenever possible. 

this time, however, he does falter slightly.

he takes a split second to simply stare at the phone in his hand, at the affectionate contact name. what is he supposed to say to you, exactly? how is he supposed to act?

satoru doesn’t know, but as if afraid that you’ll change your mind and stop the call, yourself, he opts to simply answer. he’ll just have to figure out what to say on the fly.

(unfortunately, satoru’s instinctual response to anything is either smugness or playfulness.)

“well, well. look who finally decided to pick up.”

you’re the one who called him, not the other way around — but satoru can’t be bothered with small details like that right now. he only hopes you don’t notice the faint nervosity in his voice, the stiffness as he tries to sound unbothered.

you don’t notice anything at all, mind far too muddled, too clouded by fear. all you can do is take a deep breath, desperately trying to grasp control over your wavering voice.

“— satoru?” you call out, voice meek and frail. the man in question notices it immediately, sitting up a little straighter, but before he can say anything you continue. “i’m sorry, i just — are — are you still at home?”

there’s an anxious tilt to your voice, one that’d be impossible for satoru to miss. your words are a little breathy, spoken in a fast tempo, and he feels a sudden dread crawl up his spine.

something is wrong, his senses alert him.

“yeah,” he hums, trying to hide the turmoil in his own voice. “why? is everything okay?”

the line is quiet, for a second. “it’s just —“ an exhale, as you once again attempt to steer your voice in a less nervous direction. “just… some creepy guy tried to talk to me. i told him i was waiting for my boyfriend and now i’m walking away from him but he’s still following me.” another exhale, as you worriedly sneak a glance over your shoulder. ”i just — i don’t know what to —”

“where are you?”

satoru cuts you off, voice eerily serious. his gaze turned cold the moment he heard creepy guy, legs moving him towards the coat rack by the front door as if on autopilot. 

he’s already left the apartment by the time you answer, looking around you meekly.

“i… don’t know,” you sigh. “i’m not far. i walked past that one crêpe stand by the park but then i, like… continued up that street? and now i don’t really know where i’m going.”

you continue, a little exasperated as your gaze flits around the dark street. attempting to recall your steps, a difficult task with how on edge you feel. “i’ll try to look for a sign, or something,” you gulp. “… i’m sorry. i just wanted to get away from him.”

satoru’s voice is comforting, when he speaks, eager to console you. grounding and soft. “hey, it’s okay. i’m heading there now, alright?” he smiles, hoping you’ll hear it in his voice. “i’ll be there before you know it.”

you do hear it, and his words ease a little of the anxiety in your chest, despite your fear. “okay.” 

the line grows quiet, again, and your brows furrow in worry. “can — can i keep talking to you?” you ask, uncertain. a little pitiful. ”please?”

“of course,” satoru answers, instantaneous. he’s already making his way towards the crêpe stand with decision in his steps, mentally scanning the area ahead. despite his own anxiety at the situation, he attempts to sound as secure as he can possibly manage, desperate to soothe the worry in your voice.

“try to relax for me, okay? nobody’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”

his words are absolute, as he consoles you. he sounds so sure of himself, so much that you can’t help but believe in his words. so you nod, emitting a weak hum when you remember he can’t see you.

“can you tell me what you see, baby?”

“uhh…” you look around, blindly, trying to find some sort of meaningful hint around you. “there’s like… some toy shop?” 

satoru only hums. “can you check your location on your phone?” 

you blink. 

of course. why on earth didn’t that cross your mind before? 

“oh — yeah — fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i didn’t —“ you sigh, heavy. “hold on.”

following satoru’s instructions swiftly, your gaze scans over the screen. he waits, patiently, already heading past the park and up ahead. as soon as you succeed in finding the name of the street, you echo it to him.

satoru sighs, a little relieved. “okay,” he hums. “i’m not that far away. i’ll be there soon.” he only hopes his words can soothe your fear, even a little. “is he still following you?”

you glance behind you, and meet the gaze of the stranger. just like you were afraid of, he’s still following you — if anything, he seems to have gotten a little closer. with a jolt, your heartbeat picks up.

“yeah,” you gulp. 

satoru’s chest tightens. he emits a low hum. “just hold on. i’ll hurry.”

focusing only on the tilt of satoru’s voice, you try to calm your breathing. you just want to see him. the thought of doing so is the only thing keeping your trembling ribcage intact, at this point. 

you swallow a shaky breath.

“thanks, toru.”

a sudden pang of ache sprouts in satoru’s chest, like thorny vines curling around his ribcage. his heart hurts. you sound so scared, so very small. 

this is all his fault, he thinks. all of it. he got too careless; none of this would’ve happened if he had only been more considerate. if he had just stopped you from leaving and apologized, or hadn’t upset you in the first place. then he wouldn’t have to hear that scared little voice, wouldn’t have to imagine your body shaking like a leaf in the cold night. so far away from him. 

but satoru can’t beat himself up over it, not yet. there’ll be more than enough time for that later. for now, he needs to get to you — that’s the only thing on his mind.

so he lets his feet carry him forward, running towards your location with bated breath. he’s sure you can hear it, through the phone, even though he tries to contain it.

the sound consoles you, if anything. it reminds you that satoru is there, that he’s on his way. that there’s no need to be scared. 

but you can’t help but freak out, a little, when you hear the man call out from behind you.

“hey!” he slurs, stumbling towards you with unsteady steps. his voice is loud, angry, and it sends your mind reeling into panic mode.

a flinch overtakes your body, before you stumble forward, walking even faster than before. you’re almost running now, breath hitching as you gulp. satoru hears it all — your panic, the echo of the man. his own tempo picks up.

“baby, calm down, okay?” he consoles you, voice concerned and honey-sweet. “just keep walking. i’m almost there.”

“sorry —“ you squeak out, between flurry breaths. breathing uneven, laboured and anxious. but you try your best to calm down. “‘s just scary.”

it almost feels physical, the way it irks him. satoru wants to pull you close, more than anything, but he can’t. and that just makes the calamity inside his chest grow, clawing at his ribcage as if trying to escape, to go to your side. 

(he never, ever wants to hear that kind of fear in your voice again.)

“i know,” he soothes. “you’re doing good, honey. listen — he’s not gonna touch you. i won’t let him. you have nothing to be scared of.”

you nod, even as you exhale a shaky breath. ”i know.” 

and you do. you know there’s a truth, to satoru’s words, one that’s never failed you before.

because satoru is your safe space, at the end of the day — he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and sometimes he’s bad with emotions. but he tries, you know he does. and, more than anything else, you know that he’ll always, always be there when you need him. he’ll always be there to protect you. 

and a part of you is sure that everything will be okay, as long as he’s around.

(it’s easy to forget how trustworthy satoru really is, how much he cares. how dependable he is. and how serious he can get, when he truly needs to be, despite his childishness. it’s moments like these that remind you of that.)

but it’s still scary, at the end of the day. you can’t help but feel uncomfortable, a little lost in the world. because you and satoru just fought, you just told him to go fuck himself, and yet here he is. running to your side, in the middle of the night, because you’re scared and alone and you need him.

the man continues to shout, behind you, muttering curses you can’t quite make out. you look over your shoulder nervously, steps hurried.

and satoru runs like a man possessed, through the moonlit streets, gaze scanning the area like a wild beast. his most visceral instinct is screaming at him, tugging at his flesh and bones, desperate to protect you. to comfort you. to wash all your worries away. 

as he makes a sharp turn, he momentarily stops the movement, halting to look around. he thinks he must look a little crazed, with the moonlight illuminating his eyes, but he couldn’t care less.

especially not when his gaze lands on a certain person, further down the street — small and alone.

your eyes meet his.

with the darkness of the street, it’s hard to make anything out, but the light of the lamppost helps. though even without it, satoru’s sure he’d know it was you, just from the sensation that unfurls in his chest as his gaze lands on your figure. 

an audible sigh of immense relief falls from his lips, and his tense shoulders relax, eyes softening just a tad. he hears a similar noise coming from the phone in his grasp, and he assumes that means you recognize him too. not bothering to end the call, he puts it in his pocket, walking over to you with brisk steps. 

you stumble towards him, yourself, the worried crease between your brows now smoothed away. the closer he gets, the faster you move, until you can see the blue of his eyes. two pocket-sized moons.

satoru swoops you in for a hug before either of you can say anything.

he cradles you close, awfully close, so close you can hear his heavy breathing against your ear. it tickles your neck, along with his soft hair, and you shiver. his fragrance envelops your senses, a blend between fresh laundry, strawberries and some expensive cologne. your favorite scent in the world. 

and suddenly, the world is devoid of danger. nothing can get to you while satoru’s there. all that exists is you, and him, and the soft flicker of the moon.

satoru squeezes you tightly, ensuring himself over and over again that you’re safe. he might be squeezing you a little too tight, but he can’t bring himself to think about that just yet.

finally, that growing calamity inside his chest is satiated. winding down at the feeling of you pressed up against him, the indisputable proof that you’re okay. with you in his arms, satoru feels like everything is alright, again.

the fear inside his chest, so foreign it leaves him shaken to the very core, finally begins to dissipate too. he doesn’t think there’s anything that makes him feel quite as hopeless as the thought of not being there for you when you need him. he never wants to feel that fear again. it’s suffocating. it crushes his lungs.

all he can do is hold you close, his big palm smoothing down your hair, the back of your head, your spine. warm and comforting. keeping you steady against him. he can feel your heartbeat, rapid and anxious, so fast that his heart aches. satoru is eager to soothe you, eager to make it go away.

”i’m here, baby,” he breathes, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. ”you’re safe now.”

the words are spoken softly, right by your ear, and you exhale a shaky breath. you’re bundling up his clothing with your fists, anchoring yourself to him. after a little while, you let go, opting to wrap your arms around his midriff instead. nuzzling into his broad chest, you try to blink away your tears and contain your sniffles.

you nod against him, and satoru kisses the crown of your head.

and, finally, his gaze strays. it falls farther down the street, until it lands on a certain man — shifting from one foot to another. watching you both in silence.

the calamity inside his chest rouses from its slumber, once more.

satoru makes sure to keep his hands on you, still rubbing your back with one steady palm cradling the back of your head. keeping your face hidden in his chest, safe and secure.

then he raises his head, back straight, full height on display as his eyes meet the stranger’s. he can tell they do, even with the distance, the darkness of the street.

and satoru knows he looks menacing. he knows the light of the lamppost illuminates his figure perfectly, framing his tall stature and broad shoulders. and he knows the moonlight caressing his skin illuminates his face, his cold eyes — blue and uncanny, glowing even brighter than the moon. staring daggers into the man’s soul. if looks could kill, there wouldn’t even be any remains left to find.

the man stiffens, visibly, and satoru delights in it. he doesn’t leave, though, and for a second satoru wonders if he’s really intoxicated enough to come closer — 

but, sure enough, all he does is stagger a little. then he walks away, grumbling under his breath, hands in his pockets.

and satoru isn’t satisfied, with this conclusion. not in the slightest. he wants to run up to the man, wants to hold him up by the throat, wants to tell him off. because he has the nerve to terrorize someone like that, stalk them with intentions he knows can’t be anything but revolting. the nerve to do that to you, of all the people in the world —

satoru doesn’t know if he’s hated anyone quite as much. 

and a part of him wants to make him cower. make him fear for his life, just to make sure he never does anything like this again. leave him with a fear so great it’ll linger for as long as he’s alive.

(and a more animalistic side of satoru, one he doesn’t want to acknowledge, wants to do things that are much, much worse.)

— but you come first. without question, and without exception. he refuses to leave you alone, and refuses to make you look at the man for even a second more. 

so he’ll focus on you, entirely.

he can tell you’re still shaken up, heartbeat pulsating against him, little flutters of life prickling his skin. there’s a desperation in the way you hug his waist, like he could disappear at any moment. like he’ll slip away if you don’t keep him close. the sight tugs at satoru’s heartstrings. 

his first priority is to soothe you, always and forever. so that’s exactly what he does.

satoru smiles. it’s small, in the wake of the situation, but awfully sincere. fingers reaching down to trace over your jaw, he gently urges you to look at him; when you do so, hesitant, he cups your cheek with his palm.

your teary eyes feel like daggers to his heart, an unmistakable proof of his failure. his failure to protect you, to keep you safe and happy. but at the same time, he’s glad, from the bottom of his heart — that you’d let him see you like this. even after everything.

you look very meek, blinking the tears away as you look into his eyes. they’re bright, and comforting. you wonder if he left the shades at home, if he rushed over here so hurriedly that he didn’t think to bring them with him. you’re happy, in any case — the effect they have on you is undeniable. 

you can’t bring yourself to look away, consoled by the flickers of white inside his irises, like fluffy clouds in the blue sky. ever-lasting, never-changing.

satoru tilts his head, smile sweet and understanding. ”that was scary, hm?” 

his voice is tender, somehow so mature. like he’s some older, wiser being, comforting a scared child. it’s so soothing, so very grounding.

squeezing your eyes shut, you can only bring yourself to nod, as you nuzzle back into his chest.

”you’re okay now, honey,” satoru coos, smoothing down your back as you sniffle. an immense softness seeps through his whisper. ”i’ll always be here to protect you.”

there’s a truth to the statement, heavy and pious. like an oath, a pledge, something for you to believe in unquestioningly. you allow yourself to soak in the words, knowing them to be true.

you’re safe, now. there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. satoru’s here, and he’s hugging you, pressing kisses against your shoulder.

but you just can’t stop crying.

when you speak up, your voice is weak, barely above a whisper. close to breaking apart at the seams. too tired after everything to resist the guilt inside your veins, you sniffle, and part your lips.

”i’m sorry i yelled at you.”

satoru stills.

then, his gaze softens, considerably. he hears himself coo, softly, palm smoothing down the back of your head. 

his sweet angel. apologizing to him, when he’s the one who started this whole mess. when you’re still so shaken up. because he let you leave the house angry, because he made you angry in the first place. because he didn’t see how important the discussion was to you.

(“you’re not even listening.”)

yeah. he wasn’t. he didn’t really want to.

an acute sense of shame. an intense guilt. that’s what he’s been trying to push down, all this time. that’s the unnamed something. 

it’s hard for him. to be as sincere as you, as open with his feelings and emotions. as mature. because even in a situation like this, you can swallow your pride and frustration, and apologize. even when you aren’t in the wrong. you’re always the bigger person, always the one to give in first, because he’s too stubborn to do so himself.

next time, satoru pledges, he won’t let you. next time he’ll be the one to swallow his pride.

because, yes, being vulnerable and admitting that he was in the wrong makes him feel a little like he’s being skewered alive — but you’re important to him. he loves you. and he wants you to know how much he trusts you, how special you truly are. 

if he can show you that, by being a little sincere, a little serious, then any discomfort he feels in the process is a small price to pay.

satoru’s lips meet the crown of your head, as he encircles your smaller frame, arms reaching around your neck to pull you close. he rests his jaw lightly on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. ”you have nothing to apologize for, baby.”

a pause lingers between the words he’s already said and the ones he yearns to say, but can’t seem to pull out from within his throat. it takes effort, to squeeze them out; but every time he replays your own apology in his mind, it gets a little easier. he squeezes you lightly before opening his mouth, as if to give him strenght.

“i’m sorry.”

you blink. 

for once, satoru sounds sincere when he apologizes — almost painfully so. bordering on something you think may be nervosity. you try to look up, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but he keeps you hidden in the crook of his neck.

”i was being immature,” he continues, sighing. you don’t know if you’ve ever heard satoru sound so uncomfortable. ”you know how bad i am with this stuff. but i never want to — you know.” 

he makes a gesture with one of his hands, as if that will say the words for him.

“— i didn’t mean to upset you. honestly.” satoru inhales the cold air, in hopes it’ll make him more honest. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

you listen. intently, not missing a word, not a single tilt of his voice. it all sounds so genuine, almost foreign on his tongue. satoru seems to be trying to find the right words, grumbling a little under his breath. 

he’s cute, like this. kind of awkward, but that only makes him cuter. you nuzzle closer to him, comforted by his very existence.

”… i’ll work on it,” he whispers, at last. “i’ll listen to you. i promise. i really, really will.” 

you think satoru’s voice wavers, just a little, when he says his final piece. 

“so please don’t cry.”

this time, satoru doesn’t stop you when you attempt to lift your gaze, loosening his arms around you and raising his head from where it rests on top of yours. 

your eyes meet. satoru is smiling, weakly. he tilts his head, looking at you with something you could only ever describe as love.

”okay?”

such a lovely smile. so painfully genuine. his eyes are on full display, shining in the dark of the night, like splotches of moonlight. like someone stole the moon down to earth, and carved out little pieces to put in his irises. an ethereal hue.

he’s so gorgeous. hair just a tad messy, tousled from all the running he did to get here. cheeks a little red from the cold. when he smiles, his eyes crinkle. but he looks almost pained. 

(he was so, so worried.)

blinking away the tears clinging to your lashes, you simply stare, entirely mesmerized by the sight. satoru’s thumb goes to wipe at your glassy eyes, smoothing away the drops that threaten to fall. you want to engrave his expression into your memory, so you can never forget it. but it’s just a little too much.

so you hide in his chest, once more. the word that falls from your lips is tiny. “okay.”

satoru smiles, kissing the top of your head with a relieved exhale. bathing in your presence, still reeling from his show of vulnerability. he feels a little like he just cut himself open, let you peek inside his ribcage. the night air stings his skin. 

but you’re so warm, hugging him tightly, breathing and heartbeat finally relaxed. 

(he doesn’t mind it, not if it’s you — having you look inside his chest. if you asked, he’d let you build a shelter there. right between his fourth and fifth ribs.)

now that the words are out of his throat, they don’t burn at all. satoru feels a little silly, for being so scared to say them out loud. he knows you’d never use them against him.

all you do is snuggle closer, as if silently conveying your forgiveness.

you stand there for just a little while longer, wallowing in the tender atmosphere. finally, satoru makes a move to leave, and you begin to walk back home.

“sure you’re okay now, baby?”

you nod, exhaling a flurry breath. it turns into vapour in the cold of the air, drifting up and dissipating in the expanding starry sky. “yeah. thanks for coming so quickly.”

“of course,” satoru only says, choking back a yawn. 

your hands are intertwined, and he’s halfheartedly swinging them back and forth. it soothes your anxiety, and satoru’s protective instincts. you know neither of you will slip away, like this.

you shiver a little, subconsciously inching closer to satoru to protect you from the harsh bite of the midnight breeze. he notices, giving you a glance and a tilt of his head. “you cold?” 

“just a little,” you mutter, smiling weakly as you look up at him. ”i’m fine.”

satoru huffs. did you really think he’d be dissuaded by such a weak retort? there’s no way he’s letting you walk around all cold and shivering. 

so you come to a standstill, as satoru begins to shrug off his coat. he refuses to let go of your hand for even a second, making the process slower than usual — your heart flutters a little, as his fingers curl around yours, delicately. 

when he finally gets it off him, he wastes no time in draping it over your shoulders. it’s big on you, warm and soft, shielding you from the chilly air. satoru can’t help but giggle sheepishly, as he always does at the sight — you look so cute. 

“c’mon. let’s go home,” he grins, ruffling your hair teasingly.

satoru doesn’t feel cold, not in the slightest, as he holds your hand tightly. just your presence is enough to warm his bones to the marrow.

the silence between you is comforting and soothing, as you continue to walk. hand in hand, admiring the starry sky. you’re both too tired to speak — but satoru does so, anyway.

“i meant it, y’know.” satoru sounds sleepy, but earnest. ”i really will work on it.”

he doesn’t look at you when he says it, yawning softly and stretching his free arm. gaze fixed on the morning star. 

“oh.” you pause, squirming a little. sheepish. “thank you. i’m sorry that i — i mean.” a sigh. “i probably overreacted a little.”

satoru shakes his head, waving off your guilt. “nah. you’re right. i never want you to feel like i’m not taking you seriously.”

his gaze meets yours, tentatively. his eyes shine like wedding rings. “you mean a lot to me.”

the sincere words manifest themselves as a heavy pressure to your chest, closing in on your heart as if crushing it. it’s a pleasant sensation, though, overwhelming as it is. you’re a little scared that your knees will buckle if he keeps this up, but even if they do, you wouldn’t want him to stop — satoru’s love is terrifically overwhelming when there’s nothing to hide it, when it’s just love and nothing else.

but you’d never reject it. you’d let it crush you to death with a smile on your face.

all you can do is avert your gaze, afraid that you’ll fall into the blue sea of his eyes if you don’t. heavy thumps of blood resound in your ears as your heart beats, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.

“… you mean a lot to me, too.” you echo, holding his hand just a little tighter. warmth rises to your cheeks. “i just felt really frustrated, i guess. like you were looking down on me. i know you weren’t actually, though.”

satoru chews at the inside of his cheek, almost anxiously. “i know i can be a little much sometimes,” he says, tasting the words on his tongue. “and i appreciate you for putting up with that. i’m sorry i let it go too far. i’ll be more considerate.”

your heart stutters in your chest. you’re not sure what to say — the way he forms his words makes them feel so absolute. and you believe him.

“i’ll be more considerate, too,” you echo, looking down at the pavement. “i shouldn’t have blown up like that.” a pause. you mumble, quietly, a little embarrassed. “i shouldn’t have told you to go fuck yourself.”

satoru breathes out an amused huff, chuckling lightheartedly. his eyes carry a teasing glint when they meet yours. “i probably deserved that. no worries.”

“still,” you pout. satoru giggles. 

“we’ll both work on it, then,” he hums, tilting his head to find your gaze. “right?”

you blink. a small smile breaks out across your face. “right.”

satoru swings your hands back and forth, looking awfully happy with himself. you’re proud of him. really.

“oh —“ he says, breaking the sleepy silence once again. “and i’ll stop leaving wrappers around, too.”

this time, you’re the one who huffs out an amused breath. “thank you,” you grin, looking up at him. he thinks the sight is terribly precious.

a yawn leaves your lips, drowsiness sneaking its way into your bloodstream. you’re not sure if it’s due to the dark, or if you’re just a tad exhausted after all the arguing and panicking.

satoru notices, and gets an idea.

“you tired, baby?” he coos, eyes teasing but soft around the edges. “d’you want a piggyback ride?” 

when you give him a look, sleepy and kind of exasperated, satoru grins. you huff out an amused breath, just a tad embarrassed, but it only spurs him on.

so he crouches down, one knee meeting the pavement, letting your hand slip from his. you blink, tiredly, at the loss of contact. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s wearing that lovesick, smug little grin of his. 

”c’mon. your big, strong boyfriend’ll carry you.”

satoru’s feeling playful, you can tell. that’s usually a bad sign — but you can’t deny that you’re tired. and the prospect of getting carried all the way home is eerily tempting. 

your gaze falls on his back, and his broad shoulders. silently, you walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his neck. satoru holds you up by your thighs, and then stands up, jostling you a little; he does so without a hitch, and you’re reminded of how strong he really is. his grip is secure, and you trust him not to drop you, no matter what. 

you let out a content sigh, basking in the chill of the midnight air as you nuzzle your cheek against his soft hair. satoru chuckles.

”my sleepy lil’ sweetheart,” he coos, voice a tad raspy. ”lucky thing you’ve got me, huh?”

there’s a softness to his voice, despite the teasing tilt obscuring it. you can only huff out a breath, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and cling to him tighter.

satoru will get you home safe. he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and he can be bad with emotions — but you can always, always trust him on that. 

so, with his coat shielding you from the chilly air, and his back warming you up as he carries you back to your apartment, you allow your eyes to flutter shut; enjoying the cozy feeling his presence brings you.

he’ll always be there when you need him.

[luveline]

carmy! i have a request, it’s so basic but everything you write is golden. him and r are pining coworkers, and maybe someone else yells at her or upsets her or whatever and he’s like but i’m the only one allowed to shout at you and he hugs her (because you know… arms 👀)

—Carmy tries to make you feel better after a customer upsets you. fem, 1.5k 

“Fucking asshole,” Richie mutters as the door swings closed. 

Carmy would cringe if he had the energy, or a lack of self-awareness —it’s not as though he doesn’t swear like a starved sailor every other sentence. 

“Who’s the asshole?” he asks, feeling down his side for the bump of a box of cigarettes he doesn’t find. 

He’s taken to hiding them in the office. He’d love to pretend it was an act of lent, but in actuality, he never told Ritchie that the box of cigarettes left near the burner, that gave them their C-army rating, wasn’t Richie’s at all, but Carmy’s. He isn’t ever planning on having that conversation, so he’s trying not to carry a box around and leave it somewhere stupid again. 

“Fucking– you didn’t just hear that guy?” Richie asks, scowling. 

Carmy scowls back. “Yeah, that’s why I’m asking. What the fuck do you think?” 

It’s slightly too much aggression off the cuff, but Richie brings it out of him. “Some asshole just came in here and started shouting like a motherfucker because he forgot his stupid napkins. I thought Sunshine was gonna cry her eyes out.” 

Carmy clocks back in fully. “What?” 

Sunshine is the mildly sarcastic nickname Richie gave you before Carmy ever step foot in The Beef. It’s not that you’re moody, but you’re always tired, and you give these little shy smiles out to anyone who asks how you are. I’m fine, you say every time, followed by something deflective like, I’m just tired. Lack of vitamin D from working in this place. 

“Where do scumbags get off, making girls cry like that?” 

Carmy's eyes widen. “She’s crying?” 

Richie is capable of seriousness, despite himself. “Yeah,” he says, his anger swapped out for a low remorse, “I told her to go sit in the office until she’s feeling better.” 

Carmy pauses. “Should I go look in?” he asks. 

“Duh, Carmen. You’re the only one who can make her feel better. Which I resent!” He brings a rag end from his shoulder to wipe his forehead, which is gross, but whatever. “I’m fucking excellent at being a shoulder to cry on.” 

Carmy doesn’t know what that means. Richie says it like it’s obvious, but since when is Carmy the only person who can make you feel better? You’ve known everybody here far longer than you’ve known him, and sometimes Carmy thinks you probably don’t want a thing to do with him, does anybody in the kitchen? You’re smart, and you’ve been working here as long as anybody, started when you were genuinely too young and learning everything you know from the other. You have potential, like everybody here. You just didn’t get the right training, and you’re defensive (again, like everybody here). 

Carmy’s almost positive you’re gonna tell him to fuck off when he knocks the office door. He doesn’t know why he does it, nobody knocks in this shithole, but he does. Maybe he’s buying time; you’ll be feeling better when he pushes the door fully open, and he won’t have to navigate the treacherous depths of his feelings for you while he’s so busy trying to work himself out.

You sniff, muffled, like  a sleeve is held over your face. “Hello?” you ask. 

Carmy gets a burst of energy and doesn’t ask before stepping into the room. You can’t say no if he doesn’t ask, and you don’t, looking at him from the rickety office chair with distrust, and then sheepishness. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be in here.” 

“No, no, you can come in here,” he says. He has a bad habit of pausing too long and looking too close, hands clenched in front of himself. “You can come in here. Some asshole made you cry?” 

You shake your head with tears still wet on your cheek. You’re at home in the office, all the chaos and posters and paper trails a match for you dishevelled appearance. You’ve pulled your foot onto the chair, showcasing a shoe that’s falling apart and two pairs of socks pulled to uneven heights. Your hands are a riot, none of your jewellery but a mismatch of different coloured band-aids over a multitude of wounds. And your face glows with tears, shitty light of the desk lamp casting yellow onto your teary cheeks, your lips bitten raw. 

“I’m fine,” you say. 

Carmy doesn’t know what he was expecting, but he was hoping for a better confession. “Over napkins?” 

“Said I’m s’posed to put napkins in the bag,” you say, a monotony to your voice that’s forced and weak at once. “‘Cos I’m a fucking idiot, right, who doesn’t put napkins in the bag?” You sniffle. “Whatever. Richie said he can’t come back.” 

“He can’t,” Carmy says quickly. 

He fails to follow it up. There’s an idiot in the office, for sure, and it’s not you. 

Your mouth crumples and you look away from him, something achy about you as another tear falls down your cheek to curve into the skin above your top lip, making a home at your cupid’s bow. “I’m fine.” 

“You can be upset,” he says. “This job’s… hard enough, without people making you feel like shit for shit you didn’t do.”

You respond to his warm(ish) tone with a small smile. Your tear slips down your lip. Carmy wants to wipe it off. 

“What can I do?” he asks finally.

He wishes he could make you feel better without asking, and there are parts of him that want to turn tail and run, too, but Carmy stays standing in front of the half-open door watching as tears make their way to your chin. He doesn’t know why you’re still crying. 

Maybe he does. Carmy doesn’t usually cry. He just watches things go wrong without stopping them, or keels over in the alley for long, too fast minutes as his heart pumps a bruising rhythm against his ribs. 

“I’m fine, Carmy,” you say, wiping your face roughly as you stand from the chair.  

He scratches a hand through his hair. “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” 

“You don’t have to anything.” 

“Richie said I’m the only person who can make you feel better.” 

“You’re just the only guy who ever shouts at me,” you tease, sniffling softly as you do. 

Carmy shouldn’t yell at anyone, but he does. You’ve never cried. He wouldn’t yell at anybody if he thought it would make them upset like that, it’s just that yelling’s like talking where he comes from, and the kitchen doesn’t help. 

“So what? Am I supposed to beat that guy up?” Carmy asks. 

You laugh through what he hopes to be the last of your tears, scrubbing at your cheeks ineffectually. “Like you could beat somebody up. You’re all bark and no bite, Berzatto.” 

Sure. And he’s a loser, he’s more than aware of it; Carmy knows fifty seven different ways to prepare corn for eating and he doesn’t know a single way to make girls feel better, so he tries something he saw on TV. 

“Come here,” he says, holding his arm out insistently. “C’mere.” 

He leans in to grab you. You hold your arms out, but you still when he touches you like you're shocked. He’s a little shocked too. 

“Richie knew the guy, right?” Carmy asks. 

“He said he’s banned for life.” 

“Okay, great.” Carmy feels up your back slowly. Your arms are hesitant behind him. He’s the braver one for once, feeling at the dips and slopes of you with a greedy hand.

You smell… really good. He has a good sense of smell, can pick apart a meal's ingredients by scent alone if he’s awake enough, so he can tell you’re wearing that little solid perfume you keep in your cubby, gentle enough to not bother anybody in the kitchen, ever so slightly milky and sweet. He can also smell the salt on your cheeks. So weird to be able to smell your tears. 

Carmy pats your back and leans away. Your hands fall to your side. 

He wipes your face hesitantly, pinky to your soft cheek, until your tear stains are dry and you’re looking at him steadily.

“That was really weird,” you say. 

He panics, stepping away from you, “Fuck. Fuck, sorry.” 

You shake your head. “No, I’m just kidding. Thanks, Carmy.” 

“Dick,” he says. 

You smile brightly. Okay, his heart fell into his ass when you said it was weird, but you can tease him all day if it makes you feel better. 

“I better go tell Richie I’m okay,” you say. “Don’t you have a stock to reduce?” 

“Oh, you mean your stock?” he asks. 

Your smile makes him wanna grab your wrist, and it makes him wanna chase after you. You slink out of the office, waving a quick goodbye with your fingers, and Carmy stares at the place you’d been sitting while you cried for a couple of seconds to get a grip.  

He puts his hand on his chest and feels his pulse racing. 

“Fucking asshole,” he mutters, not sure if he means the customer or himself.

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

I’m a fierce believer and defender of Smooth Brain Astarion (affectionate).

I love that, if left to his own devices, he ends up dead in a ditch. I love that this pasty menace of an elf is a walking disaster. I love that his brain produces one coherent thought per day, only to have it backfire on him later on. I love that his first choice in freedom is to unapologetically be the worst version of himself. Because it makes sense. 

That’s what abuse and trauma do to your brain—they fuck with it. 

And in Astarion’s defence, the man didn’t have to use his brain for nearly 200 years—it’s probably the very thing that kept him as alive as he can be; to survive 200 years of pure shit. 

And what use is his brain when his days and nights are dictated by someone else for as long as he can remember? When he has no say in what clothes he wears. When he doesn’t get to choose what or when to eat. When his body and mind aren’t his own, distorted by torture and hunger and self-loathing, forced to obey his vampiric master. Why use his brain when his survival depends exclusively on his abuser’s whims? 

Astarion could’ve come up with the most brilliant plan possible to escape Cazador or save a mark from their doom, but he never stood a chance of succeeding—which doesn’t mean that he didn’t get punished for trying (or even thinking about it) anyway.

Existing under Cazador was a game he couldn’t win, so why bother playing? 

And it’s only by chance that Astarion’s autonomy is returned to him literally overnight. It’s only natural that he’s overwhelmed by his newfound freedom. How is he expected to make sound decisions when he can’t even recall a time when he could do and say as he pleased? 

Of course Astarion is a walking disaster when he finds himself on that beach after the Nautiloid crash—and he’s fully aware of that! That’s why it’s so crucial for him to get on the player’s/other companion’s good side.

He’s self-aware enough to be so insecure about himself that he would rather trust a stranger’s capabilities than his own. 

Being a catastrophe of a person is part of Astarion’s character journey. Not only does he have to reclaim his personhood, he has to learn how to depend on his own brain again and I think that's such a painfully beautiful, important message Baldur’s Gate 3 sends. 

Because healing isn’t pretty. Nor is it easy.

You’re not alright the moment you’re free of whatever horrors you had to live through—and that’s ok! There’s time and room for you to adjust. 

And the moment Astarion feels more or less safe within his new environment, when he’s fed and treated like a person worthy of respect and consideration, his insights, skills and perception are crucial assets to the group.

Astarion knows his art and literature, and although his little remarks are unhinged at times, he's genuinely witty. Even his objections are, considering the circumstances, absolutely legitimate.

Personally, I love seeing Smooth Brain Astarion become more and more secure in his judgement the more Tav/other companions trust and support him.

Astarion is smart, his brain’s just been stewed for nearly 200 years.

[nyxofdemons]

i cannot get over the way that blitz screams "LET'S GO" like he WANTS to fight with him, like he's ASKING stolas to lash out at him and tell him blitz is right, stolas DOES think he's insignificant and he wants him gone if blitz doesn't accept his feelings immediately, just so blitz has a reason to keep being angry and vent out everything bottled up inside of him.

i think all of this comes back to how blitz would rather people hate him than miss him, because at least then he feels like he's getting what he deserves, and he will actively sabotage relationships to MAKE people hate him so he knows they have a good reason - like his breakup with verosika and everything he did to her. if he GIVES her a reason to hate his guts then he gets to know exactly what it is he did wrong, and it's not just because of who he is fundamentally that's so despicable. i think he's TRYING to do the same thing with stolas here - on some level his anger is justified, of course, but i don't think this is entirely that. i think he's trying to provoke stolas into lashing out at him so they can have a huge argument, and blitz can make him feel as small as he does right now, and if stolas gets angry and hates him for whatever cruel things he's going to say, then blitz gets proof that stolas doesn't really love him, gives his self-loathing monster a taste of validation by knowing he is definitely the reason that all of this fell apart, and reaffirms his own warped self-image that he is incapable of receiving love or creating a good relationship.

blitz isn't expecting stolas to take him at his word - that this is nothing more than sex, and he actually thinks of stolas as nothing more than a privileged rich asshole he HAS to put up with - he's expecting stolas to fight back so blitz can keep yelling. but stolas loves him too much to lash out (at least right now,) and he's so aware of the power imbalance between them and feels too guilty about their transactional relationship to try and argue. HE'S being entirely honest about his feelings (and he's distraught and off his meds), so he's assuming that blitz is being honest, too - he really can't stand stolas, and he's been perceiving their interactions as stolas' classism being malicious rather than simply ignorant, so of course there's no way blitz would ever want to be with him. and blitz can't grasp that stolas genuinely cares, and doesn't want to fight with him, until it's too late to backtrack.

[sleyu]

thinking about how mean!bf sirius would have a hugeee corruption kink, he just wants to ruin your mind yk

idk maybe its just me

i think mean or not, it is definite that sirius black has a corruption kink and it unquestionably couples with his possessive nature.

just imagine mean bf ! sirius meeting you for the first time. you’re a timid, but undoubtedly kind individual who is meek next to him—fully aware of sirius’ notoriety in his personality and habits. he becomes so awestruck, he has nothing to respond to your unassuming questions aside from the occasional nod or gentle murmur.

he displays a calm, relatively friendly aura until the pair of you begin to become acquainted with each other and ultimately, begin dating. it is only then, that the mean teasing and snickers begin, and his heart bursts with joy at the sound of your bashful whines and protests every time he playfully slaps your ass or tugs your skirt, laughing and pulling you close to him, muttering how his actions are all in good fun and that he’d never let anything actually hurt you.

‘so bloody sensitive. y’know i’d rather die than let someone lay a hand on you, dummy.’

and of course, sirius isn’t stupid. he’s been having lewd, perverted thoughts about you since the day he met you. in fact, it was only the same night that sirius cast a silencing charm around his bed to hide the sinful sounds of him grunting as he fisted his cock, thoughts about bending you over the classroom desk polluting his already depraved mind.

since you’ve started dating, he reckons it’s time to manifest these fantasies into life, especially after noticing how your meek gaze has begun to linger on his broad chest and widen at the sight of his bulging crotch. his inner self beams with joy and crude anticipation every time he feels you pawing at his thighs, looking up at him in despair as if you’re unsure of what you really want or why the throbbing ache in between your thighs is only getting worse.

i think mean bf ! sirius would definitely become dizzy at the sight of you on your knees, hands gripping his muscular thighs, begging him to let you suck his cock or to fill your cunt up. usually he was the one doing the begging, but here you were, pliant, obedient, and desperate for his every touch. he genuinely has to sit down and stare at you while also controlling the immoral urge of forcing his cock down your throat, watching how your eyes widen and become teary as your throat contracts and chokes around his pulsating cock.

he genuinely cannot control himself once he sees you fully submit to him, begging him to give you the exact things you were too shy about even insinuating merely a month ago. it makes him feel so accomplished knowing that he was the one that made your brain all cloudy and fuzzy—that he was the one who got your cunt hooked on the feeling of his relentless, unforgiving cock.

‘sirius—my fingers—they’re not good enough—need your cock in me—jus’ want you to ruin ‘n abuse me—please da—’ as soon as you become close to uttering the last word, he’s already lifted up your skirt and forced his cock inside your aching pussy anyways, groaning into your mouth and fucking you ten times harder than he would have any other day.

‘slut—you’ve become a little slut—oh, fuck—‘n who’s are you, huh?’

it becomes the first time that sirius loses all sense of reason and caution as it has become evident to him that he’s irreversibly corrupted you into becoming just as disgusting and perverted as him.

‘nah, not sirius’, honey, you're daddy’s, yeah?’

‘gross fuckin’ bitch loves that, huh, puppy? you like it when daddy forces himself inside you like that, hm?’

‘hogwarts newest slut, yeah? but only mine, isn’t that right? only i get to ruin—fuck—this whorish cunt—mmm,’

sirius is so mean, he doesn’t even tell you when he’s about to cum :( he makes you cum and afterward, you’re a fucked out mess because he just doesn’t stop. your eyebrows begin to furrow and you can only manage to mumble a quiet ‘sirius?’ before he groans into your neck, breath all hot and heavy, and pumps you full of his hot, sticky cum. all you can do is whine and writhe beneath him as he pushes your knees to your chest and uses your cunt to drain his massive cock.

all the while, he’s reveling in the realization that he has just cummed inside you and that if spells and birth control were forgotten, it would be no surprise if you fell pregnant with the copious amounts of cum pumped inside your spent hole.

‘my dirty girl likes when daddy breeds her, doesn’t she? oh, don’t shake your head, pup, i know you like it—can feel you clench—god—around me right now.’

sirius gets so turned on when you confess that you can’t make yourself cum without him ever since the two of you started having sex. the image of you crying out in frustration at the feeling of your own neediness and the dull throbbing in between your sore thighs—incapable of doing anything without his guidance—makes his cock harden far quicker than it should have.

‘poor thing. my dumb girl can’t do anything without me, can she? your small fingers just aren’t as daddy, hm?’ paired with a faux, mocking frown because sirius black is an asshole that is very visibly ecstatic that you’ll always have to come to him to find a release.

and nothing fuels his ego more than having you beg him to stuff you full of his cum before class begins. he loses his mind seeing the effects of ruining your perfect, angelic interior. his once smart, goody-two-shoes, good-girl has become a conniving slut, her own cunt betraying any logic or rational thinking within her mind :( seeing his shy, perfect-attendance girlfriend begging him to skip class with her to fuck in a dingy broom closet is all it takes for him to bust right then and there.

[pumpkinbxtch]

— 𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗼𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗯𝗶𝗮?｡⁠:ﾟ headcanons

are the HoO boys afraid of falling in love with you? (ft. apollo)

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☆ radiostar is playing… warrior by aurora!

who's here: percy jackson, leo valdez, frank zhang, jason grace & apollo. warnings: none, philophobia is the fear of falling in love. a/n: This is super based on their profiles according to the books, because well, let's talk honestly to others, I decided to do this, it's interesting.

percy jackson;

Percy isn’t afraid of loving or being loved. His mom raised him with a lot of affection. But, he does get scared of not being loved back or not being good enough for you. This is because of his obvious self-esteem issues. Doubting love is the only thing that makes him rethink and overthink things. So, sometimes you have to talk to him when you see he's down about something he doesn’t want to tell you. But he never hesitated when he fell for you and wanted you to know as soon as he realized it.

leo valdez;

Yes. The answer is yes, he is scared of falling in love. But he doesn’t realize it until he’s totally in love with you, and it’s too late for those feelings to stop growing. Leo isn’t fully aware of it because he likes having girls around, but it never goes beyond the surface until it did with you. He realized that imagining a future with someone isn’t something to take lightly. Is there something he can’t fix with his magical pockets?

Leo spent most of his life running away and being from nowhere, so he ends up with an avoidant attachment style. He’s working on this now to open up more with you because at the beginning of the relationship, it seemed like he was running away from you. In reality, he’s full of love to give and wants to receive it too.

frank zhang;

He’s never scared of falling in love or feeling something as genuine as that. He’s a son of Mars, who’s associated with passion, so Frank has never had to face love head-on. The only problem might be feeling like he’s too much or too annoying because he would die for you and kill an entire nation to be with you. Frank is careful when he realizes he likes you or is falling in love because he knows some things just can’t be, but he never hides his feelings. He’ll tell you he loves you and respects if it’s not mutual. He almost explodes with happiness knowing it’s mutual.

jason grace;

Jason isn’t great at showing his feelings. It constantly overwhelms him and keeps him up at night, trying to solve it like a math equation when it’s the complete opposite. He’s supposed to be the voice of reason, or at least that’s what he’s thought all this time. But when you get close to him, his gears go crazy, spark, and break down. Is he scared of falling in love? Not exactly, but he’s afraid of not expressing it properly because he knows how important communication is. After getting to know you better, he realizes it’s better to go with the flow, which isn’t easy for him, but he finally has an answer. He was born to love and wants to be loved.

apollo;

Yes, yes, yes, yes. All his exes ended up as plants or dead. How could he not develop a fear related to love after that keeps happening? So it’s a nightmare when you come into his life because, unfortunately for him, he’s a hopeless romantic. There’s nothing more ironic than that. He tries to avoid it at all costs, but in the blink of an eye, he’s holding you tight and kissing you with a goofy expression on his face. Even though he’s so scared, his longing to find the one outweighs it...

[meo-eiru]

heyy!! here I am with some more thoughts, this time about Elias.

honestly, for some reason, he seems like a very lonely person to me. you mentioned his will to change himself (and go to extreme lengths in that); also his almost paranoid fear of darling leaving him, (delete all of your contacts except for him, etc) – usually such level of jealousy is a sign of very low self-esteem. dunno if it's true, I just had a feeling that he's super insecure deep down. (he's afraid to look bad in our eyes, remember? to an unhealthy extent.)

and he's so empty. so beautiful on the outside, but so so empty. he loves you, he exists for you, isn't that enough? it isn't. you can't feel genuine affection for someone just because they look good. and Elias knows that! he's actually self conscious (unlike some elf with big tatas), but he can't offer you anything else, which must make him feel even more insecure, because deep down he knows that he won't be able to keep you by his side forever.

actually that will of his to go to extreme lengths for us is pretty frightening. how toxic it can be? depends on the darling! because if you are a normal person, you'd be patient with him, change him, and have a happy ever after and all those boring things. but what if Elias happens to fall in love with an unreasonable and possessive monster?

I feel like he'd go very well with a darling who's yandere for him too. and a stereotypical one at that, who'd want to keep him by their side like a pretty doll. get it? not a life partner, not even a human. a doll, a pretty thing to take care of. they would choose pretty clothes for him, brush his hair, but at the end of the day, he's nothing more but a pretty thing, an object.

I really like the doll metaphor for Elias. (I'm a huge doll lover, I ever have one of that super expensive bjd) dolls are beautiful, but aren't alive. they can't be someone you'd open your heart to; under their shiny porcelain skin, they're hollow.

unlike Silas, Elias is a more tragic character in my eyes. he's willing to carve his bones to whatever shape you desire, because if he isn't validated and noticed by you, he has no value. and you (if you are a normal person) will grow tired and bored of him, sooner or later. he wants to be loved, when there's pretty much nothing to love in him.

unlike Silas, his love can ruin only himself.

(I swear it's not like I want to see him suffer in particular. I'm open to all kinds of despair, pain and sadness, whether it yan's or darling's!)

(also I tried to find his colour scheme, but all I found was you mention his hair, so it's just how I think he looks like.)

DHDKDHDKYS NOT ONLY IS YOUR ANALYZES AMAZING YOU ALSO DREW ELIAS??? AND HOW DID YOU GET HIS COLOR SCHEME SO RIGHT???

I love you thank you god I love asks like yours.

You’re very on point, Elias is like a pretty doll. Beautiful on the outside but completely empty inside, and that beauty is the only thing that gives him any kind of worth. He’s aware of this more than anyone.

He’s not rich, he doesn’t have an amazingly successful career, no hobbies, no specialities, no interests. He’s extremely pathetic and all he can do is pitifully attempt to pull you down to his level.

That’s why committing self harm comes so easily to him even if he doesn’t yearn for it. Endangering himself, his only value, his body, is the only way he can keep you with him. He doesn’t have any power over you he can use against you. He only has this disgustingly and pathetically beautiful body.

He wants to be loved by you, he wants you to be obsessed with him as much as he is with you, but deep down he knows he doesn’t have any qualities that could deserve such love. That is why he leans into his appearance so hard, since the moment he was born that face of his was the only thing that gave him any sort of value.

If you find any part of him ugly he’ll have no choice but to try to fix it even if it completely ruins him. Because he thinks that’s the only way for him to keep your eyes on him. He’s just through and through pathetic. Extremely pitiful.

He would indeed roll well with a yandere reader who treats him like a living doll. Because Elias wants to be values by you, even if it means getting stripped of the little sense of identity he had. He wants you to keep your eyes on him and see him as an object who exists for your satisfaction. Because at the end of the day that is what he is. An empty shell who was unfortunate enough to be born with the ability to love.

Elias’ existence can’t handle his own love. He’ll start breaking from inside out like a doll under pressure. That’s why he needs your reassurance, he needs you to reaffirm his worth. He can’t exist for himself so he needs to exist for you. He might be a beautiful shell of a human but he too can have some sort of value if he’s being used like a tool by you.

But watching you also makes him feel extremely jealous and frustrated. Because you have everything he doesn’t have. You have hobbies, things you enjoy, things you do for yourself, people who stay with you not for your outer shell but for who you are inside. Everything Elias never had and never will.

That’s why he tries so hard to ruin your relationships and threaten you to stay with him, to keep you at his level like a pathetic bug. Because you’re not like him. You can abandon him any day of the week and continue your life like you lost nothing, but Elias isn’t like that. If he loses you he truly will have nothing left.

So please love him, ruin him, break him, treat him right, use him, make him feel alive, give him some sort of value. Please be kind to Elias. He needs you more than anyone on this world

[fatuismooches]

amandus est videri.

synopsis: Your birthday rolls around again, and you expect it to be a nice, relaxed day as always. But your illness hasn’t been the kindest to you lately, so Dottore decides to spoil you, as best as a man like him knows how to anyway.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: Just a fluff, self-indulgent fic of Dottore being soft for you on your birthday. Fragile reader. He comforts you a lot at the end. Last year's fic.

Birthdays were a special thing, no doubt.

It was a day that many looked forward to. It represented another year of growing older, a joyful celebration with the ones you loved as you looked forward to the future. At least, that was the case for some people. For others, they simply didn’t care. Your husband was a good example. If you didn’t remind Dottore every year and present him with a gift, you were sure the day would pass like any other, whether he remembered it was his birthday or not.

You, on the other hand, were probably in the middle of these two feelings. Yes, you did look forward to the day, but you supposed it had lost some of the charm it should have. It had been so many years since you’d woken up from your almost eternal rest, and even longer since you had been plagued with this sickness. Therefore all of your birthdays have been spent with the same lingering feeling in the back of your mind - when will you spend your special day in good health, free to feel and think and act in the way you truly want to? At this point, the only reason you continued to ask for a large cake was to indulge the segments’ sweets cravings.

Still, your birthday did make you happy, whether it was from the lavishing affection from your lovers or the gifts you received (how you survived without your beloved Headcircles for so long was beyond you.) This year would be no different. But it was obvious to the others that you had become more withdrawn and closed off than your normal self, which had come as a result of your stagnant condition. 

Of course, Dottore himself had become more than aware of this. He was an observant man after all, even on the days he didn’t see you or speak to you. He knew you, inside and out. Even now, he could understand the downcast look that sometimes sunk into your face when you thought no one was watching. 

Which was no doubt surprising to the average person, considering the severe lack of ethical practice and empathy from the Doctor. Of course, being a scholar first and foremost, results came first, regardless of what needed to happen to obtain them. But in truth, when it came to you, he was a genuine doctor, and you were his only genuine patient, to which he had the genuine goal of treating and curing you, unlike his other subjects. 

Therefore, due to this sincerity, it was simple for him to understand how you were affected by your illness. However, you refused to ever approach him about it first, which often led to a flood of tears later down the line, when he finally got you to stop holding back. Still, there was only so much he could do. He wasn’t made to comfort, his specialty was the opposite. He wasn’t a natural at producing soft words, and his hands didn’t know where to go to make it all better.

Nowadays, it wasn’t hard for him to admit to himself that he missed your lively and vibrant self. The person who would constantly tease and banter with him, unafraid to debate with him or be loud in their declarations with a once familiar wide smile, laying their hands all over him as they thought of the most minuscule thing to bother him with. Needless to say, Il Dottore didn’t appreciate interruptions during his work…

But he missed yours. 

However, he saw the approaching date of your birthday as a good opportunity to hopefully help that person come forth once more. Of course, he was never one to really care about birthdays, until you came along. It was all those years ago when he decided that the effort you put into it was worth reciprocating even just a bit. Good work should be rewarded after all. Though this gift was certainly much bigger than his previous ones, he believed it was well deserved.

—

The day was just like any other. You had started it by watching the endless snow continue to form in heaps as the segments conducted their daily prodding at your body for checkups, and then made yourself cozy in bed in the comfort of your room. A lot of your days had been spent like this lately, too tired to walk around or entertain yourself with the segments. 

That was okay - they still visited you from time to time. But a visit that you did not expect was from Dottore himself. You hadn’t even heard him come in, only realizing his presence when his deep voice tickled your ear, making you jump and scramble to sit up properly. The fox creature that had peacefully nested near your feet was also awoken by the sudden intrusion, glaring at the man who paid it no attention.

“That seems to be quite an absorbing book you’re reading.” He had no reaction to how he caused you a great fright.

“I keep telling you not to scare me like that,” you huffed, heart still racing from his sudden appearance and also his close proximity. He cocked his head to the side with a smile, feigning innocence, while you pouted at his response, slumping back into the sheets. Foxttore also crawled up to your side and made himself comfy there once more.

“I did knock. Multiple times, in fact,” he commented, moving to stand over you. You probably have not changed your position much since this morning. “You didn’t hear me, so I simply took matters into my own hands.” The unamused glint in your eyes managed to bring a familiar feeling into his chest.

“Regardless, while I would inquire into the contents of the literature that has you so engrossed,” he hummed, moving away from you to observe any recent additions to your room, “I have something more important to share.”

“Is that so? Have you come to tell me the update of the experiment you last spoke about?” You asked, returning your attention to your book. In reality, you already knew the answer was no - whenever it had to do with his research you could always tell whether it was from his face or tone or body language. Either he was greatly pleased, perhaps even excited when he made a breakthrough, or he was sour and annoyed if the result was the opposite.

“No, but this is far more interesting.” The smile on his face gave you a feeling he was up to something.

“More interesting? I doubt anything could be more interesting than your research, Dottore,” you replied, but his statement intrigued you.

“I have decided to take you somewhere.” That response made your eyes widen, perking up in surprise. The times you had been able to leave the lab were far in between due to your illness, so you treasured each time you were able to witness the glory of the chilly snowfall. This had to have something to do with your birthday, and you were already grateful. Even if your body didn’t want to cooperate, well… you’d just force it to (hopefully.)

“Where? Tell me where!” You swung your feet over the edge of your bed, thrilled, your pet once again whining at the loss of your warmth. “Wait, actually, let me guess!” You didn’t notice how pleased he was with your sudden return to life, a smile on your face as you thought about all the possibilities, longing to get away from this place.

“Hmm… are we going to visit that delicious bakery again? And scare the townsfolk once more?” You tapped your cheek as you reminisced at the mix of petrified and curious expressions from when you two were there. It was still amusing to think about the Harbinger in such a place with you.

“No, somewhere farther away.”

“The theater, then? Oh, is a new play coming out? Are we gonna watch it? But I don’t want to hear you complain about the plot the whole time again…” Dottore merely watched, entertained by your deep in thought expression.

“No, not that either.” 

“Then where? Tell me,” you gave up on guessing, trying not to kick your legs in excitement.

“We are going to Sumeru together.” His words caused the room to go silent afterward as you blinked at him, trying to process his words. Your lips parted and then closed as you repeated what he said back in your mind, while Dottore only stared at you as if what he said was the most normal thing ever.

“... Huh? I- what?” After a bit, you couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the sheer absurdity of that sentence. “Hey, I know a certain segment of yours likes to joke around, but not you so much. Now tell me, where are we really going?” But Dottore didn’t look phased at your denial, casually brushing his fingers against your numerous books on the shelves, only perking up once he recognized one on Khaenri’ahn machinery.

“We are going to Sumeru,” he repeated. “Once we’re there, we can go anywhere you like. We will leave a week from today, first thing in the morning, and get there the night before your birthday. And there is no need to pack, everything will be taken care of.” Once again, you were shocked into silence, your heart rate increasing to a pace that probably wasn’t the best for you.

“... You’re serious. You’re actually serious,” you spoke in disbelief, words coming out in a half-whisper. You stumbled to your feet until you were pressed against him, your hands gripping his shirt as you beckoned him for answers. “But why? I mean- how? I thought I couldn’t- we couldn’t because of all of those things and- well, are you sure? I… I don’t want to bother you or your work or cause any unnecessary problems or-” Your flustered self stopped talking when a large hand rested on top of your head.

“Am I not allowed to spoil my spouse?”

“S-Spoil… well…” The words felt so foreign coming from his lips - he could be very direct with his verbal affection if he was in the mood, but this… was more than what you had expected. Although you could feel your face heating up, you still couldn’t help but feel you were putting an extra burden on him, and your expression made it easy for him to guess so. Dottore’s hand moved to stroke your cheek instead, forcing you to look up at him.

“If you’re still not convinced… then think of it as repayment, if that suits you. You’ve always satisfied my needs, I am merely satisfying yours as well. Or perhaps… think of it as me taking a vacation. You’ve always asked me to take one, no?” His voice managed to quell your worries a bit as you nodded, reaching to your cheek to squeeze his hand. 

You still had a lot of questions - if you could even handle the whole trip with your illness - but you were sure he had already come up with all the solutions to all the problems in advance. As for how he managed to get time off… perhaps working as a Harbinger without taking any sort of break for centuries ended up having its usefulness in the end… You could just imagine the expression on Pierro’s face.

“Thank you… thank you! I love you!” You couldn’t help but hug him as tightly as you could, now knowing that you were truly leaving this place to not just anywhere but your homeland, the place you missed so much. It really did sound too good to be true… Dottore only chuckled at your reaction, having expected this from the moment he planned the whole trip. He held you back, smoothing your hair until you pulled away again, suddenly deep in thought once again.

“Oh Zandik, I need to make a list! There are so much things I need to do and see… how will I have time for them all? And I need to get a nice outfit ready… gotta get new filters for my Kamera too… I have to take a lot of pictures… And souvenirs for all the segments! And Bina and Panta and Childe-” In a flash, you were suddenly digging through your room in order to prepare for the things you just mentioned, as well as whatever was running through that mind of you. The abomination of a creature had waddled his way over to you, discontent that his cuddles were over, but still interested in your activities. 

Dottore only watched in amusement, simply glad to see you smiling again in a way that was wholly you, before he left you to attend to his own business.

—

To say you were restless was an understatement. You think that Dottore shouldn’t have told you about the trip this early because now you were constantly dreaming about what you’d do in Sumeru. It wasn’t only about Sumeru either, this was a long-awaited opportunity to spend genuine time with your husband. Although you hadn’t been feeling up to much lately, the whole situation made your spirits rise. 

But soon enough, the journey was underway. However, a small problem was that you had not been on a boat in hundreds of years. It was admittedly daunting at first - but wow, had the design of boats changed a lot over the centuries… you could have never thought a boat could be so fancy. Of course, Dottore was keeping his eye on you the whole time, making sure you could handle the change in environment.

“Staying out here too long won’t be good for you,” the sudden voice to the side of you made you jump a bit, before you quickly relaxed, realizing it was just Dottore. You had been just standing here every day for a while.

“The breeze is nicer than I’d thought it would be. And the sea… it’s very pretty.” You smiled, looking back at the view. Even though only boring water surrounded you two for miles, it was still a fascinating sight. You had already taken a lot of pictures, but they couldn’t compare to the real thing. “I wish to continue to look at it,” you added because you already knew he’d try to pull you away and into the warmth of the cabin. He was silent at your response, and you thought you’d won him over when suddenly something heavy slipped around you.

His coat, which was much larger than you, pooled on the floor of the deck. It really wasn’t necessary, considering you were already wearing your own, but who were you to decline his kind offer?

“Don’t stay too long,” was his only warning, and you couldn’t help but giggle as you stepped closer to him, squeezing his hand when you suddenly remembered something important.

“Hey… speaking of, are you still motion sick, Zandik? Will you be okay?”

“I never had such a thing,” he clicked his tongue in annoyance, trying not to remember certain… events at the Akademiya that you still made fun of to this day.

The Fatui agents pretended not to hear your cackles and their Harbinger’s disgruntled responses the whole trip.

—

You had refused to go to sleep for hours now. Why? Because you would reach the docks of Sumeru by tonight, and you would not miss the moment for anything, even though your body was loudly protesting to get some rest. Surprisingly, Dottore didn’t object too much. Obviously, he’d expected this. You were grateful that he was being lenient for once. Anxiously, you continued to wait with bated breath, tapping the edge of the boat.

And then Port Ormos came into view. 

You were still quite a distance away but… you thought it was beautiful. There were boats that were even more large and luxurious, and you could hear the hustle and bustle of people still filling the port even though the moon had begun to settle in. But the lights around the port glowed magnificently, so familiar to what you remembered all those years ago. Oh, but the layout was certainly different… it was the same and yet it was not, change was evident but there were things that still reminded you of the past. Of… better times.

“Dottore, do you-” As you turned around to look for him, you found that he was already next to you, watching the port come into view as well. You immediately hooked your arm around his, pulling him closer as you practically jumped up and down in excitement. 

“Thank you again, Dottore. I am truly so happy…” You nuzzled your face into his arm, hoping he could feel how thankful you were. He stroked your hair with his free hand in response. 

“Just don’t stray too far tonight. You can do that tomorrow.”

When you finally got off the boat and set foot on not just any land but in Sumeru, you just wanted to go everywhere. You wanted to see everything, the new places and the old - most importantly, the ones you shared with Zandik. But you paid mind to his request and stayed in one place (mostly), instead pacing around in awe while he handled business with the agents. Besides, you didn’t want to draw too much attention to yourself anyway, not with all these people here.

The house you were staying at was a distance away from the city, not too far but it also gave you two a sense of peacefulness and quiet away from all the noise. It was perfect and you loved it, as it somewhat reminded you of living in the dorms with Zandik, although the architecture had changed since then. But you were still a bit… unsatisfied.

“Are you sure we can’t just stay up and do something…?” You asked drowsily, fighting off the very obvious sleepiness in your voice, while Dottore pulled the blankets over you. Although you were energetic a few moments ago from the thrill of it all, tiredness had quickly settled into your body after it was over. Still, it just felt a bit annoying to waste this precious time sleeping, and you looked at your husband with pleading eyes. He seemed to think about it, before answering you.

“If you can stay awake for ten more minutes, then we can,” Dottore indulged your request, knowing full well that you would be knocked out by then. But you seemed more than ready to take on this challenge.

“I… I can do that! Alright, talk to me, Zandik,” you urged him, hoping a conversation with him would help you fight the sleepiness.

“You said that you created a list for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I did!” You tugged on his arm, pulling him closer as he was only sitting on the edge of the bed rather than lying next to you. Knowing him, he was probably going to try doing some work… somehow, despite being miles away from Snezhnaya. “I want to walk around the city first… oh, but we need to eat first. You know the good places, right? I know the segments have been here many times… they told you, right?” You continued to prattle on, forcing back your yawns.

“Naturally.”

“Good, good… we need to go into as many stores as possible. I have a lot of gifts to buy,” you rubbed your eyes to continue getting the sleepiness out of your system.

“You do, indeed.”

“Mhm. And a lot of… pictures,” you yawned, the fluffiness and softness of the pillows and sheets overtaking your senses. “We should visit the forest too. If only we could explore a ruin again…”

“We will, one day in the future.”

“Yeah… do you want to go anywhere, Zandik?” You had moved his hand that was held hostage to your cheek, enjoying the warmth.

“I already have plans for us to go somewhere later.” You forced your eyes open to blink at him in surprise.

“Really?” Despite being on the verge of slumber, that grabbed your attention very much.

“Of course.”

“...I am admittedly a bit concerned at how thoughtful you’re being, Zandik. Are you going to experiment on me when we get back?” You couldn’t help but tease him, however, it was still true that this was a bit strange coming from a person like Il Dottore. You were used to receiving his love in an… unconventional manner, that was just Dottore-like. It was hard to explain.

“Your lack of faith in me is rather heartbreaking, [Name],” he said in a similar, more sarcastic tone. “Perhaps I will run a few tests on you later.” You giggled in protest as he began to move his hand downward, tracing lines on your neck until he rested on your pulse, teasingly stroking the area. Your laughter had turned into yawns the more the seconds went by.

“So… how many minutes have passed?”

“Less than five.”

“Aww… well, I can keep going…” your voice dipped in volume the more you spoke, your grip on his arm becoming looser as you finally succumbed to sleep. He let himself feel you for a bit longer until he pulled away, moving your body into a comfortable position so you wouldn’t be sore, and then looked back to watch you. 

The rise and fall of your chest had always been something that brought him a sense of relief. It was the tangible sense of it that reassured him, always being the man who favored facts over fallacy. Your heartbeat along with the movement of your chest, and sometimes the small noises you made, were all things he checked for once you slipped off to the land of dreams. A doctor, a scholar, or a scientist could never be too careful.

A lover could not either.

—

Although waking up early wasn’t one of your favorite things, you did it anyway because this birthday wasn’t something you wanted to squander. The warm morning sun spilled into the room, a feeling that was never to be found in Snezhnaya. Rubbing your eyes, you realized Dottore was again at the side of the bed getting ready, just as he was last night. Your rustling movements alerted him to your consciousness. 

“Finally up, are you?” Dottore was always up early, well, it was more like he never went to sleep in the first place. You yawned in response before turning over to face him better, admiring his bare chest through his half-buttoned shirt, but more importantly, his lovely face that was not yet covered by that mask of his.

“Mhm,” you hardly mustered a response before smiling, continuing to nuzzle into the pillows, admiring your husband who always managed to look so good to you, especially when all the finer details were highlighted by all the light coming in. It was surely a sight to see as well, watching him put on that complicated outfit…

“Are you going to continue staring, or are you going to start getting ready?” His tone was more teasing for your wandering eyes rather than displeased. 

“So mean,” you giggled, finally sitting up and stretching before wrapping your arms around him, pressing your chest against his back. “I’m just glad the first thing I saw today was your handsome face.” He had no response as you kissed his neck, leaving soft kisses downward as his hair tickled your cheek.

“Here. Now carry me,” you pulled away and spread your arms out, patiently waiting as he turned back to look at you with narrowed eyes. “What? It’s my birthday, you should listen to my requests.” He paused to examine your bright smile and hopeful grin before he acquiesced.

“As you wish,” he replied, then wrapped a single arm around your side and hoisted you up rather inelegantly as you awkwardly dangled above the floor.

“H-Hey! Be gentle!” You squealed at the rough treatment before it turned to giggles, as you then got ready for the outing with your husband’s help.

—

The streets of Sumeru were everything you knew yet nothing at the same time. So many people going about their lives, Akademiya students walking about as well, mumbling about their research and exams and everything that came with being a scholar. Walking up the tree-woven bridges and staring from above, the view simply too beautiful for words to describe.

But…

All of the stores and buildings you once knew were gone, replaced with new ones. You knew that after so long nothing you’d remember would still be there, but deep down you hoped for something concrete to remind you of the past, if only to ease your heart for everything you missed out on. The only thing that remained the same was the Akademiya, though it certainly looked upgraded. Speaking of the Akademiya… if only you could set foot there again with him… pretending to be a student in the House of Daena like once before… but those days were long gone.

“You couldn’t possibly have thought the same things from centuries ago would still be here,” he sighed as you buried your face into his shoulder with disappointment.

“Well, you’re right but, I don’t know… there might have been a long-running family business or something,” you mumbled, appreciating his warmth and scent. At least you still had him after all the years.

“There is no need to fret. There are many things here you’d like.” Dottore attempted to comfort you, which wasn’t a lie. He knew the kind of things you were interested in. After a few moments, you shifted to look at him, nipping at his shirt before pulling away and grabbing his hand resolutely.

“Hmph, I know that. Now come, we need to see if this Puspa Café can compete with the one we used to study at,” you tugged on his arm, and he grinned, delighting in your whimsicality. 

—

By the end of the evening, you were sure you knew the face of every vendor there was in the city. Practically everywhere had been explored by you (and Dottore in tow, who was dragged along.)

Gifts had already been acquired - your favorite being an Aranara toy for Zandy. You considered the cookbooks as a shared gift, seeing as you’d make the food for everyone. It was always quite hard to pick something out for them, this was the many versions of Il Dottore after all… Still, it was a good thing you had agents to carry the items back. Poor things.

You also made sure to get your fill of delicious Sumerian food as well. Sure, certain things could be imported, and there were chefs in the Fatui, but it would never taste quite as good as it did here. And oh, the pictures. There were a lot of pictures. Nothing was off the table - the scenery, the animals… Dottore watched in silence, tapping his finger as you even took pictures of the food. And of course, you posed next to many things but especially the kitty cats.

“There can never be enough photos of me on your desk, Zandik. And I need to share them with all the other segments too! Now keep taking them,” you demanded, your poor Harbinger husband feeling more like your temporary maid as he fulfilled the most ludicrous requests for you, only for today of course.

“Come, come, let me see them now!” You ran back to him, eager to see the (hopefully) pretty photos. As you began to shuffle through the pictures, your smile gradually dropped while you could feel the smugness radiating from Dottore.

“…You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you, Zandik?” You looked up at him, completely unamused… because all of the photos he had taken just now were perfectly imperfect - the wind had messed with your hair or outfit, someone interrupted, you were being harassed by a bug…

“I fulfilled your request, did I not? I merely took the pictures as you asked.” You narrowed your eyes at him before pressing your finger into his chest.

“Listen here you, normally I find it adorable when you’re being cheeky and annoying,” you paused to stab him again with your finger, “but I will not tolerate it today of all days. I know we both remember the last time I gave you the treatment. Now be a good little husband and actually take good photos.”

“You’re rather feisty today, aren’t you dear?”

By now, the sun would soon begin to set, signaling the day would be coming to a close. The sky would slowly change into a brilliant hue, the perfect thing to gaze upon after a lovely day. You were… content, despite all the worries and less-than-nice feelings that sometimes rose to the surface, which you desperately beat back down for you didn’t want to think about that now.

But you knew the day wasn’t over yet. The whole time, Dottore’s words lingered in your mind - the promise of taking you somewhere. You wondered where it was. The best you could guess was the giant Ruin Guard you two used to visit back when you two were students… perhaps he wanted to see it again. You would be interested in knowing if that note he left in there survived for so long… 

“So, would you say it’s time for you to reveal your secret plan, Zandik? It’s been on my mind all day, you know.” You tapped the railing as you watched the clouds float in the sky, trying to find any shapes that looked familiar. Dottore watched from behind you, his eyes more focused on your pretty frame.

“I was waiting for you to finish this little adventure of yours. You’ve been so busy, how could I possibly interject?” Your husband moved to stand next to you, the black fluff of his outfit tickling your shoulder.

“And I thank you for your very much appreciated patience. I know you’d rather be tinkering with something than following me around,” you chuckled, relishing in the closeness of his body.

“Nonsense. Even I value the time I have to admire your many expressions. It brings much amusement, especially the idiotic ones,” he hummed as he took his hand in yours, tugging you forward as you ignored the little tease.

“So… where are we going exactly?” You squeezed his hand as you followed Dottore, simply trusting him. You had always loved Dottore’s hands. They were big and fit perfectly in your own, reassuring you whenever he ran them over your body. It was the same hands that took so much from others… but always gave to you.

“You’ll see.”

“Can I at least have a hint? Or what we’re going to do there?”

“You’ll see,” he repeated while you huffed in disappointment, but then he paused, seemingly wanting to say something more. “It is a place you showed me.” You raised your eyebrows but didn’t pry anymore. 

Soon the path dwindled, the noise from the city fading as two you got further and further away, and you instead decided to appreciate the atmosphere of the walk. However, your legs had gotten very tired from all the walking earlier, even though you took numerous breaks in the city, and you were struggling to keep up the pace now. But you were too shy to tell him about the problem.

It was a good thing your husband happened to be an observant doctor.

Dottore’s pace lessened so you could catch your breath, and then he stopped completely to sweep you off your feet, something your body was far too grateful for. Your sigh of relief was also quite audible, much to your displeasure.

“The path ahead is dangerous. It is better if you don’t walk,” he said simply, sparing you the embarrassment. You whispered a quiet thank you as he carried your body bridal style with complete ease, your head nuzzled into his shoulder while your fingers played with his shirt and accessories. (You always wondered how he wore all those hanging things… when you tried putting all of them on before, your back hurt… really bad.)

He was right - the path was steep and rocky, hard for the average person to walk. There were some monsters, but he didn’t even need to draw his blade to kill them of course. Even though you were more interested in cuddling into his chest, the journey seemed familiar… very familiar in fact, and you suddenly thought hard about where you could be going. It had to be some place during the Akademiya time… 

You blinked again at the scenery and then you saw the past again. 

Ah, how could you forget? The time you dragged the unwilling scholar from his dorm, all because you wanted to show him a special place (and get him out of that stuffy room for once, all he wanted to go to was to class, the dorm, or to some ruin for investigation.) You helped him through the whole hike, defeating the enemies easily as he panted behind you. You only ended up going there once with him due to all the hassle it took, but it was so worth it because the view was-

Absolutely breathtaking, you thought, as you set sight on the place after over four hundred years. To be exact, it was just a very large flower field filled with dainty Sumeru Roses, but it was just so pretty, along with a clear, unfiltered view of the pure sky. The smell was always so pleasant too, the perfect place to relax. The last time here, you forced him to lay back and just relax (which he was not a fan of, he bought his books anyway.)

Dottore had set you down carefully, making sure your feet weren’t too wobbly, so you could take a few steps into the field.

“It’s just as beautiful as I remember,” you sighed happily. “I… I can’t believe you actually remember this place,” you got a bit flushed at how he remembered this, especially when you loved it so. Your eyes roamed about, trying to take in every detail when you noticed there was something spread out a bit in the distance. You took a few more steps while Dottore followed closely behind, still silent. Soon, you were in front of a soft blanket, along with a picnic basket, the delicious aroma wafting out.

“This is…” The words didn’t quite make it out of your mouth as you kept looking back and forth between the picnic and your husband. Meanwhile, Dottore didn’t seem phased in the slightest as he ushered you to the ground. A few containers were emptied onto the blanket, packaged just the way you used to when you were a student. Did he copy you? Not to mention…

“These are the same things I made for you for our last picnic…” Obviously, he couldn’t have cooked these himself or he’d have blown up someone’s kitchen, but his memory was quite exceptional. You always specifically made these dishes because they were loved by both of you.

“Eat before it gets cold. Though… the flavor lacks in comparison to what you make,” he seemed slightly disappointed by the quality as he bit into the samosa. Perhaps this was why he barely ate anything all day. You, on the other hand, were still… flabbergasted, your jaw moving to speak and then freezing up. You furrowed your eyebrows before you moved much closer, gripping his shirt and yanking on it.

“…Who are you, and what have you done with Dottore?”

“…Pardon?”

“I’m asking who you are and what have you done with the real Dottore!” You exclaimed as you pulled him back and forth while he looked at you blankly, surprisingly more with confusion than amusement.

“Alright, how many times have you apologized to me in your numerous centuries of life?”

“Three times.”

“How long did you kick me out of the dorm when-”

“Four days, thirteen hours, and fourty-seven minutes.”

“Okay… how many pens did you end up breaking on the expedition when we got trapped in that one ruin in the desert?”

“Nine.” You blinked at him carefully before scooting back, satisfied with your little interrogation.

“…So- so, you’re the real thing, huh? Hmph, I- well, it is about time you did something like this. I always had to organize all the picnic dates back then you know,” you brushed it off, trying to not show how touched you were by this, your heart stuttering badly. It was so simple, but all so meaningful. It showed that Dottore paid attention to you, only to someone as ordinary and weak as you, nothing escaping his watchful eye. Quickly, you tried to shake off the sudden emotion bubbling in your chest as you continued to defend yourself.

“You can’t blame me for this, by the way. Doing all this is awful strange for you,” you stated. The way he was acting was almost a bit perturbing. You never would have thought him to care so much. 

“I only copied exactly what you did. Hardly any effort was required on my part,” he always said such things so casually, as if it was meaningless (which could be good or bad, depending on the situation.) But things like these always made your heart race, made you think that at least you were special to him. You decided not to continue the topic.

You plopped your head onto his lap, beginning to reach for something to munch on when he stopped you.

“Don’t eat lying down. It’s bad for your health.”

“Aww, but you're so nice and cozy down here.”

The time flew by quickly after that, words swept away by the gentle breeze. After a bit of prodding you were able to get him to start rambling about that one experiment that was giving him a headache, an update that you were interested in but more so listening to his voice. You loved when he did this - not many people know how much of a talker he could be. 

In the meantime, you also idled by weaving some flowers together. You had done this last time too - the blush on his cheeks gave you a good laugh. Though your hands trembled from how much precision the braiding of the stems took, you continued on slowly anyway. 

“There we go,” you let out a sigh of relief as the stems were finally connected into a crown, even though it definitely wasn’t your best work. You glanced at Dottore, who was still ranting on (about the banker this time), and then placed it on him, which he momentarily paused at the sensation, fingers reaching up to brush against the flowers.

“Hmm… it’s a bit lopsided, but it suits you, cutie,” you smiled at the work of art you created - your husband adorned with Sumeru Roses, to be exact. He rubbed his fingers between the soft petals before placing the crown on your head instead.

“It suits your features far more.” Heat rose to your cheeks as you shook your head.

“Such a smooth talker. I feel as though our places have been swapped,” you exhaled softly, remembering how you were the one always blatantly flirting with him in the Akademiya. “Ah, wait, I still have one more request!” There was one thing you wanted to do for the whole day.

Your trusty Kamera was released again as you looked at him with pleading eyes, the device aimed toward him. Dottore let out a great sigh. As much as he enjoyed sharing new mechanical tools with you, you could get… really into them. Especially because he kept tweaking them to make them better for you. Though he supposed he shouldn’t blame you too much… as long as it kept you satisfied. 

“I believe you’ve taken plenty.”

“Well, yes, I have… but none of you, beloved!”

Even though you had taken a lot of pictures, none of them included Dottore unfortunately. He wasn’t very fond of the idea of you having such… soft photos of him in possession. He knew exactly the kind of person you were, and what you could do with them, more specifically… who you could show them to. 

“Come on…” You cozied up to him, nuzzling yourself against your lover. “My scrapbook longs for more pictures of my one and only dear husband. Just one picture. One is all I ask! I’ll even take one of only your back profile if-”

“Do what you will, but make it quick,” he gave in begrudgingly, much to your pleasure. You gave him a good smooch on his cheek for that as you scooted back, getting into a better position to angle your Kamera. 

“Could I get a smile? A pose? Your eyes?”

“Don’t push your luck too much, [Name].” You grinned cheekily at his response.

The audible click of the Kamera sounded, and then the photo printed out. In a few moments, his face appeared on it, and you sighed in contentment. He was so handsome, and the background was perfect too.

“Satisfied?” He questioned, to which you nodded. “Now give it here.” You passed him the photo and he looked at it briefly, before motioning for the device in your hand. You were a bit confused as to why he wanted your Kamera but you gave it to him anyway.

“What? Are you confiscating it now?” You giggled. He fiddled with it, fingers gliding over the buttons as you watched curiously, and then all of a sudden it was pointed at you, the snapping sound catching you way off guard. He similarly copied your previous motions, looking rather pleased at your scattered self that he managed to capture.

“Ah- hey! At least let me fix myself first!” You fruitlessly lunged at Dottore to try and take back that unflattering picture of yourself, but of course, he was much stronger and faster than you.

“This one is for my personal use. I see no problem, you do the same thing, do you not?” He smiled smugly, as you gave up rather quickly, grumbling about how cruel he was.

—

So much time had ended up passing that nighttime was in full swing, the only thing illuminating the sky was the brilliant stars that shined above. Your birthday was drawing to a close. Dottore had already quietly whispered the words to you, as he always did.

You were happy. Happy to have spent this time away from that lab, away from seeing snow for miles and miles. It really did feel refreshing. And of course, you were happy to spend time with the one you valued above all. The feeling had left you feeling lighter than you had in a while, and you were busy snuggling up to Dottore while you gazed at the stars.

But then he spoke.

“[Name].”

“Yes?” 

“How have you been as of late?”

“Hmm? Well, I’m fine. You know, same old, same old.” You lazily shrugged your shoulders, though you were a bit caught off guard by the question. He seemed to ponder your answer, fingers drumming against you in a contemplating manner. He wondered if he should press you - you had been far more lively today than you were lately, and he was not sure if it would be wise to leave a sour taste in your mouth.

“And what about you? How have you been, Zandik? Still sitting at a desk for twenty-four hours straight?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Usually, you’re more than aware of my habits, considering you always barge in to change it.” You opened your mouth to respond, but your throat had gone dry because you knew what he was suggesting. You hadn’t really been visiting him or the segments lately.

“What? Do you miss me that easily?” You forced a smile onto your face, hoping to just play off the situation.

“And what if I said I do?” Whatever words you had prepared had disappeared and gotten stuck in your throat. He used to be so horrible with lovey-dovey words, and yet he managed to pull them out so casually sometimes. You breathed in.

“I… you see…” It was embarrassing really, how easy it was for him to break down the walls you hardened so desperately. Or maybe you were just weak. You had been dismissing any hint of pity from all the segments and him for so long, but it seemed like it was all catching up to you now. The light feeling you just had was beginning to quickly revert back to the heaviness that weighed on your heart.

“It’s nothing really,” you still try to deflect the question. You try to roll over too, just so he doesn’t have to see your face contort with all your stupid feelings, but his grip is far too strong for you to ever break free. 

“Your face is very easy to read, darling. Why do you not simply tell me what ails you?” You already saw this coming. You two have done this so many times, and each time you never fail to feel like a burden.

“…Because it’s the same conversation every time, Zandik. I don’t know how many times I can continue to tell you everything… my body, my health… it’s always the same thing.” 

You cannot help but think that surely he would prefer a more… active partner, one who could follow him around and be at his beck and call, assisting him with his intriguing research and experiments, one who could easily match his level, elevating his progress more and more. Not… you who struggled with tasks that should be as simple as breathing, and was more like a thorn in his side than anything else. 

You could list so many traits and things about him that could effortlessly show how he far exceeded the average person, even the Gods, how could you ever hope to live up to him? To a person who he deserved? You recall every time you ended up sobbing your heart out to him about these foolish matters, and yet every time he would listen, further ruining his research and schedule and- and, everything.

“I see,” he responds, his grip on you growing tighter, noticing your unleveled breathing. It is silent for a few moments, and you know he’s thinking of what to say, to ease your worries. It’s probably nothing you haven’t heard already though, so before he could waste his time, you interrupt him.

“Zandik. It’s my birthday. Let’s not talk about such things,” your voice is quiet and on the verge of being uncontrollably shaky. You ignore the prick of tears at the corner of your eyes and opt for hugging your husband instead. You hope that he takes pity on you and decides to let it go.

Dottore strokes your head for a few moments before pulling you back and taking off his mask, your eyes trembling as you struggle to look at him. 

“Look at me,” he says, as he thumbs your chin, preferring for you to listen instead of him forcing you like he usually does. You let out a soft sigh and eventually comply, only because you know that he always gets what he asks for when he’s like this. When you do look at him, his face doesn’t have a hint of softness, instead, it’s serious and solemn as he stares at you resolutely.

The look he gives you says that he’ll make sure you’re here for the next birthday, and the one after that, and all the ones decades and centuries from now, no matter what sins may stain his hands. You can only admire it for a few moments before you lean your head down. Even though he claimed not to be good at comfort and whatnot, he always made you happy… especially when it mattered.

“I love you, Zandik. So much. I don’t know what I’d do without you…” your words come out quieter than you want them to, but you got the message out anyway. Zandik doesn’t respond, but when he tilts your chin to kiss you, you know that he feels the same. You let him push you down on the blanket again, continuing to kiss you as he held your body firmly. You don’t know how much time passes, but the world is even darker now.

“It’s getting late,” Dottore commented, rubbing circles on your palm. You only weakly squeeze back in response. “Perhaps we should get back now.”

“Aren’t we leaving for Snezhnaya first thing tomorrow morning?” Dottore nodded in response to your question. “Then let me treasure this moment for a bit longer. Who knows when we’ll be able to do this again?” You looked away from him to the sky that was now dark, the stars glimmering above the two of you. Dottore’s gaze remained on you until he too looked away to share the same view as you.

“Very well,” he gave into your request and a comfortable silence fell between the two of you, as you moved your hand to intertwine with his own more firmly. The two of you said nothing as you continued to share the moment with each other, until the very end.

Il Dottore wasn’t a good man. Many people froze in fear at the mere mention of his name, their bodies cold at the thought of what he had done, and what he could do. He wasn’t the best lover either. You two didn’t always get along, there were obviously times he upset and frustrated you. Any normal person could probably think of a hundred reasons as to why you shouldn’t stay with Dottore.

But you knew that whatever remained of Zandik’s heart loved you, and that was all that mattered.

[maxtermind]

Can you please do “makes me want to wreck you” and “good. now you know what it's like.” but both in smut with lando norris and an innocent or naive reader? Thank you so much lovely ❤️

“makes me want to wreck you” + “good. now you know what it's like.”

( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: the one in which he proves just how good sex is. sex with him. ★:feat:: lando norris x reader ★:genre:: smut

it took you embarrassingly long to focus on what your boyfriend was saying. you could see his lips moving, but your poor clit was pressed so hard between your thighs that it was impossible to concentrate on anything else.

“you better start answering,” he purred against your ear, catching you off guard. “or i might walk out of this room right now.”

these were empty threats. you would actually pay him to see if he would walk out, and if you weren’t so hyper-aware of him, you might get richer but—

“tsk,” he murmured nonchalantly as he pressed his knee into the small space between your legs, pushing them apart and grinding slowly, painfully against your clit. “do you want me to walk out when she's— fuck,” lando cursed when you caught his arm and tried to match his rhythm.

“she's fucking weeping for me,” he growled, cursing again as you started whimpering against him. “thought you said— shit, that you've never done this before.”

he was right; you were so wet that the rough surface of his jeans was getting a dark, damp spot. you were leaking through your panties, not even daring to look down at the ruined material.

“p-promise i've never,” you choked out as another moan slipped from your mouth. he was pressing just the right amount against your little bud, every nudge and brush leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“i... i don’t know what to do,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, clearly lying through your teeth. but you genuinely didn’t know; your body was moving as if it had a mind of its own.

“you can still talk?” lando raised an eyebrow, putting more weight on his knee as he stopped moving, restraining you from shamelessly grinding your pussy on him to get off. “guess i need to step up my game.”

one second you were half-sitting on the couch, and the next, he was pulling you using your feet, a yelp leaving your mouth. “wha... god!”

your nipples hurt when the motion made them rub against your shirt, a reaction not lost on your boyfriend, who immediately bent down to bite a clothed one.

“oh— lan...” you murmured, knowing the bastard was thoroughly satisfied that you couldn't finish your sentence.

“you're so adorable when flustered,” lando whispered, looking up at you in awe. the look in his eyes alone made you feel so loved, so desirable for the first time that—

“it makes me want to wreck you,” he hissed as he pinched your nipple with his hand and continued lightly biting on the other one.

you were both technically fully clothed, and it bewildered you that sex— this wasn't even 'sex'— could feel so good that it was making you lose your mind.

you wanted to point and laugh at your past self, who rolled her eyes when her friend said, “you just wait for the right person; they'll have you crumbling in seconds.”

“always fucking lost in your head,” your boyfriend— your right person— grunted as he rubbed his erection against your leg while assaulting your hard nipples.

how the fuck was all of this so fucking hot from over the clothes? were you insane for even liking this?

“w-won’t stop,” lando threw his head back, shivering when he probably rubbed a sensitive part against you. “won’t stop till all you t- fuck, think about is me.”

he must have been insane to even think you could think about anything but him—

smack!

“that’ll teach you,” he grinned as your lower lip wobbled. lando instantly rubbed at the skin of your thigh turning red before he got up and spread your legs wide. “haa…” he let out in wonder.

lando climbed back into the space between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. he hovered over you, his hands bracing on either side of your head. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze intense. “do you have any idea what you do to me?”

you shook your head, unable to find your voice. the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered— it was overwhelming.

“well, i guess i better show you then,” lando huffed, his eyes soft before he settled his other knee against your glistening lips.

he kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue exploring your mouth. you moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him back with everything you had. the feel of his body pressing against yours, the heat of his skin— it was all-consuming.

every touch, every movement sent jolts of pleasure through your body. you could hardly believe this was happening, that someone could make you feel this way. the pressure against your clit was driving you wild, the rough texture of his jeans adding an edge that had you teetering on the brink.

“lando, ngh! p-please,” you whimpered, once again instinctively moving to grind against his knee. the friction was intense, building a pressure inside you that was about to explode.

he chuckled darkly, his eyes filled with a mix of amusement and desire. “look at you,” he murmured. “so fucking desperate for me. do you want to come, darling?”

you nodded frantically, unable to form coherent words. the need was overwhelming, consuming you entirely. “puh-lease,” you managed to gasp out.

tears rolled down your cheeks when he didn’t reply. was he going to stretch this out? “lando,” you whimpered, your voice desperate.

he shushed you gently, “i know, love. i’ve got you.” the words were a promise, a reassurance. he wasn’t going to stop until he had you coming undone beneath him.

you were teetering on the edge, every nerve ending on fire. when his mouth resorted to nibbling and sucking at your neck, you cried out, your back arching off the bed like a slut, just for him. the sensation was overwhelming, his touch driving you wild.

“good girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with pride. “you’re doing so good.”

you could barely think, your mind a haze of pleasure. his fingers moved inside you, each stroke pushing you closer to the brink. you panted, your body trembling with the need to just let go.

“please,” apparently you couldn’t stop begging, your voice barely audible. “i need… i need…”

lando smirked, his movements becoming more deliberate. he pressed his knee harder against your clit, fingers unabashedly toying with your nipples. “come for me, love,” he whispered. “show me how good i make you feel.”

that. that was all it took. with a cry, you came undone, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

it was intense, almost too much, and yet not enough. you clung to him, your nails digging into his arms as you rode out the orgasm, your mind blank except for the sensation of him against you.

as you slowly came back to yourself, you realized you were panting, your body trembling with aftershocks. lando was watching you with a satisfied smile, his eyes dark with lingering desire. “wow,” you breathed, your voice shaky. “this is what i’ve been missing out on?”

he leaned down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. “you have no idea,” he murmured against your lips. “and we’re just getting started.”

you looked up at him, your heart swelling with a mix of affection and lust. “i'm ruined,” you said softly. “i want this— you— all the time.”

lando's smile widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he looked down at his zipper, making you do the same. “good,” he replied, his voice low and possessive. “now you know what it’s like.”

a new, very odd sensation filled your chest when you saw his ruined jeans. satisfied that you made him come without even touching him, you grinned, feeling a sense of pride and anticipation for what’s to come.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★:a/n:: woah what a way to kick start the event! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3

[m-ilkiee]

STUPID L♡VE - Toxic! Megumi Fushiguro x Fem! Reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [warning]: dark content, no curse au, aged up Megumi (both are in their midtwenties) fem!bodied reader, heavy angst, toxic and abusive relationship, love drunk reader, jealous megumi, abandoment issues, exes to "lovers", mentions of alcohol and drug use, smut, mean dom! Megumi, sub!reader, coercion, noncon to dubcon, manhandling, choking cunnilingus, mentions of blowjobs and face fucking, squirting, use of restraint, slut-shaming, mutual pining, manipulation, implied baby trapping, gaslighting

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [wc]: 5.01k

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [r-18+] not suitable for people aged 17 and under

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [masterlist] [taglist] [main page]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [authors note]: if you liked this, consider reblogging and commenting your thoughts, I'd love to hear them♡ this is a prelude to my megumi series "E-boys Ruined my life" so if you're interested in this, consider sticking around for a full series.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

IT was inevitable that you and Megumi were going to eventually break up.

Everyone else could see the signs as clear as the day that you two wouldn't last, that you two shouldn't have lasted, and yet this cat and mouse game you called a relationship spanned for four whole months, longer than anything he ever had before you and honestly he was shocked because it wasn't meant to last that long.

After all, he hated how clingy you were every time the two of you were together, holding onto him as if he was your lifeline, your sweet words of affirmation purring into his ears every time you settled yourself beside him. He hated that genuine smile you always had on your lips anytime you saw him, a scowl marring his pretty features whenever you entered the room, wrapping your arms around his lanky frame, your soft lips pressed on his cheek affectionately. He hated how you would stare at him with your emotions bare for him to see, especially during sex, always whimpering out praises to him, his name falling out your mouth, no matter how fast he was going just to shut you up because he knew that you couldn't keep up when he thrust at such an insane pace, no matter what pain he inflicted in you, forcing his cock down your throat just to see you suffer taking all of him with tears running down your cheeks. You never showed animosity to him, not even when you knew that when he's done using your body, he'd just put on his clothes and leave you there, aching, bruised, and too exhausted.

It was baffling how despite everything you stayed by his side, your love never wavering when it was his goal to destroy that happiness you had so that you could be like him; miserable and very self-aware of how the world was cruel to naive clowns like you.

You called it devotion, he called it stupidity and never hesistated to remind you how much of a stupid girl you were.

And finally, after four months of trying to break your resolve, he got tired of trying and told you it was over. "You make me sick," he had spat out in a cold tone, watching your face morph into one of pure shock while you just helplessly stood in front of his penthouse.  "I'm done with you! Just get lost and pretend you don't know me." He concluded, trying to even out his heavy breathing.

Megumi didn't understand why his heart dropped to his stomach the moment you let out a loud, heart-wrenching wail the moment he slammed the door in your face, but he pushed it aside, disgusted he'd even think of caring about you in the first place, drowning your pleas and unsolicited apologies by increasing the sound of the call of duty he was playing before your visit.

The breakup wasn't so bad on him at first. He went back to his old life like getting high with his friends when he was free and attending parties only because there was some needy chick ready to help him get his dick wet somehow. He could feel a bit of your absence, you were always the one taking him home and putting him to bed whenever he was intoxicated, and in his moments of weakness, he'd ask you to lie beside him, resting your head on his chest and warming him up.

The bed is awfully cold without you lulling him to sleep, and now he'd spend his drunken nights forcing himself to remember why he hates you and why he doesn't need you until he falls back to a troubled sleep.

Women became a blur to him very soon, non-memorable compared to you. You were always willing for him to break you, your lips making such pretty sounds whenever he touched you, kissed you, or had sex with you. Your body was his, free for just him; you became his fantasy, his daydream whenever he was alone in his bedroom.

You always cradled him whenever he had nightmares of his childhood, despite all the caustic words he threw at you about leaving him all alone like his father did, calling you a slut, a whore in moments of jealousy before ripping your pants off or forcing you on your knees to remind you who you belonged to, because he never fully trusted you when he'd see you hanging around guys. They could have taken you at any point in time, they were far nicer and sweeter to you than he ever was.

The memories of you eat him alive slowly until he can't take it anymore. He accepts that as twisted as it sounds, he is actually in love with you.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"You make me sick."

You sit at the window of the cafe, staring into space as you ruminate on Megumi's words yet again, a look of longing plastered across your face. It seemed that everyone you ever loved always, always felt disgusted by you no matter what you do.

You can remember the last time you met Megumi, back in high school. He was the school's sweetheart, everyone loved him and naturally gravitated towards the relatively cool and calm boy back then. His looks were also a booster to his already popular relationship; he was beautiful, the embodiment of perfection, with an arrogant grace to his walking step. He was on his way to class when he noticed that you were crouched over in a corner, tears glistening in your eyes, sobs escaping your lips as your period cramps wreaked havoc on you. You expected him to just ignore your presence like everyone else who saw you on their way to class did and you waited for him to just walk off, tears still rolling down your cheeks.

So when he stopped right in front of you, drawing the uniform of his school trousers up a bit to let him squat to your level, you could barely hide your shock, before it was replaced with pain again. Wordlessly, you let him pick you up from the floor, into his arms in a bridal fashion and walked you to the nurse's office, never leaving your side even after you slept off.

By the time you woke up, he was staring at your face like you were sleeping beauty, his green eyes glimmering in the setting sun, legs crossed over each other and his lips pressed in a line. He reached over and gently touched your cheek before telling you to go to the nurse's office the next time you felt like you were having cramps. You remembered the embarrassment you felt before it melted away into the warmth of affection and gratitude for his help. He walked you home that day, even giving up his sweater for you because you had bled out and stained your skirt, telling you not to worry about it and to return it tomorrow, only for you to search for him the next day to discover he had moved away to another school.

Ten years into the future and you bumped into him in your neighborhood. Apparently, he was your neighbor's best friend, Yuuji Itadori and he came for a visit. Despite him growing much taller, his chest and shoulders broader, his green eyes cold and devoid of any form of life, and his face matured, he was still the same boy -now a man- you fell in love with. Then, you should have known he wasn't interested in you when he pretended he didn't know or remember who you were when his eyes betrayed him.

You should have seen the signs when he finally acknowledged that he did know you, just that he didn't want to talk with anyone from his past; You included.

Or even if you were blind, Yuuji had tried to warn you that his friend was not the same as he was in the past, that he had underlying issues he's yet to resolve, "Megumi has grown cold over the years." Yuuji warned you as soon as he saw you were teetering on the ledge of 'I can fix him' like the other women Megumi has had in his life. He didn't want you to end up in a situation where you were devastated; you were a good person who deserved better.

But even with that information, you told him that you'd warm up Megumi's heart again; he'd be happy if he had someone to share his burdens with. Yuuji even brought Nobara, another friend who knew Megumi to try and talk to you. "Look for someone else." She warned, trying to change your mind. "I've seen how other women suffer for loving him. Do you think you can handle him when he is in one of his moods?" she asked, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you hard so that your senses would come back.

They stopped trying to help you as soon as Megumi announced that you two were a thing.

Looking back, you realize that you were a lost cause to them, and to be honest, your fate hasn't changed because you still cry for him just like you did all those years, holding onto his sweater as your lifeline when you cried every night, your heart aching in your chest with longing.

Not anymore though.

The sweater sits beside you, neatly folded in a ziplock bag, the only thing keeping you from getting closure from your failed relationship with the man you thought would love you back after all these years. Do you really think you were in a romance novel? Real-life didn't work that way and it was painful you had to realize the hard way. Sighing, you picked up your phone and searched for his number to text him:

You: I’m returning your sweater.

My love 💞: I don't remember giving you a sweater. Must have been one of the guys you were flirting with when we were in a relationship

You: it’s been in my drawer for about ten years. I think it’s time to let it go.

My love 💞: oh

My love 💞: You kept that thing. Always so sentimental.

My love 💞: Just donate it or better still, set it on fire.

You: I’m not burning it and I’m not donating it, Fushiguro. I’m giving it back to you to let go of whatever ties I have with you.

My love 💞: fine. Whatever rocks your boat, I’ll just burn it myself.

Frustration threatens to set in, but you remind yourself that it wasn't worth it anymore. At this point, you already expect this response from him and if this wasn't enough sign that you should break free from whatever feelings you have for him, then you don't know what is.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

  TWO big dogs running from the open door to greet you in the hallway was a refreshing start. You smile as they settle on your foot before kneeling and hugging them tightly.

Honestly, you feel they are the only good traits Megumi has. He takes good care of these dogs, pets and pampers them more than he’s ever treated you.

Sometimes you hate him for it. Maybe if you were a damn dog he'd like you more.

"I've got to go guys," You whisper as they nuzzle your chest and neck affectionately. "Megumi doesn't want me here so this might be the last time you'd see me." You frown as soon as you hear them whimper as if asking you to stay longer. Maybe if it was a different circumstance, you would have.

If you stay any longer, you wouldn't move on.

Anxiously, you pull away from the dogs and stand upright, before making your way to his front door, your legs trembling from the tension you feel from within your mind. You know you aren't ready to face Megumi, not after the humiliating breakup that occurred right at his front door you were about to go back to again. Maybe giving him back this sweater was a mistake, you should have just burnt it like he suggested or given it to charity, anything to avoid confronting Megumi at this point.

You hesitantly knock on his open door gently, hoping that he wouldn't come out and you would just drop it on the doorstep and run away.

The door swung open and you gulped visibly as soon as his intimidating figure hovers above you, dressed in his slacks and dress shirt, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, hair disheveled and green eyes piercing through your soul and making you lose all feelings in your legs. Your voice got caught in your throat as he stares down at you, his pretty lips morphing into a smirk as soon as he sees you shuddering under his gaze.

"I haven't got all day, I just came from work and I'm tired," His tone is dry, seemingly amused at your lack of courage now that you are face to face. "Hurry up and give it to me," he demands lowly, leaning back on the lenticel.

You feel your hands shake violently as you slowly raise the package to his face. Your eyes stay glued to the ground, not wanting to meet his frightening gaze in fear of breaking down if you look him in the eye. Megumi's lips stretch into a bigger smirk as he watches you tremble before him, holding out the sweater as a protective shield, as if it can protect you from his eyes that linger on your curves, drinking in every dip and bulge while you stand motionless.

Deciding to play with your mind for a bit, he grabs your chin firmly, forcing you to look him in the eye. "You seemed so brave in the text messages," he scoffs at you disapprovingly. "I could swear you were going to break down my door if I didn't take the sweater from you."

Finally finding your voice, you force out a quiet "let me go" enough to reach his ears. This was what you were avoiding, for him to corner you like this to the point you would give in to his whims, just like when you were together. But you aren't, and he has no right to touch you like this anymore, so you bring your free hand up to him and push his chest as hard as you can.

"It almost seems like the sweater was an excuse for you to come and see me huh?" He teases,  eyeing your body up and down as you attempt to push him away, internally laughing at your effort. "That's why you're so inappropriately dressed, isn't it?" he spits in his usual caustic tone as he refers to the dress you wore that clung to your body like a second skin, his member twitching at the sight of your beautiful body -your delicious curves, your terrified face, your thighs, everything. He remembers how willing you were for him to mark you, to put his fingerprints on your thighs, that may be why you were exposing them right now, right? And your chest, you would always throw your head back when he groped you through your top while fingering you, your neck exposed for him to litter marks all over them.

You belong to him, he can see that now.

"Megumi stop!" You hiss, finally showing how upset you were with him, snapping him out of his dirty thoughts. Scoffing, he slowly let go of you, taking a step back before opening the door wider for you. "You should come inside, I'm not sure the neighbors would appreciate you disturbing their peaceful Monday evening." He advises in an even and sharp tone. You suddenly feel small under his predatory gaze and your instincts tell you to reject his offer.

If you step inside that house, you would end up doing things that you weren't meant to do with him.

"That's not necessary-" you begin, now attempting to move back, pushing his sweater towards his line of sight. "Just take it and let me go."

"You know damn well I was never interested in that stupid sweater in the first place," he states, eyes not leaving your cleavage. His heart pounds in his chest as his erection straining against his pants. "Besides, I want to talk, so let's go inside." he insists impatiently, his eyes glued onto you.

"I'm not going in there with you."

"It wasn't a suggestion," his dark voice catches you off guard, his larger hand capturing your wrist in a bruising grip, causing you to gasp as he yanks you closer to his body, his hot breath fanning your face and neck, sending shivers down your spine. "unless you want me to fuck you in front of my neighbors, get inside, now."

You didn’t have to be told twice.

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  YOU stifle a cry of pain as soon as he manhandles you into his living room, pushing you onto the love seat roughly, eliciting a pained gasp from your pretty lips -music to his ears and his hard-on as he hovers above you, dangerous green eyes undressing every inch of you, wondering where he should start devouring you from. His eyes settle on your thighs and he wonders to himself if he ever took his time to taste you the last time he bedded you. He keeps on moving towards the chair until he stands right in front of you, not breaking eye contact as he wedges a knee in between your closed legs, forcing them open without a word as he climbs onto your frightened figure, face hovering above yours while his broad arms cages you in.

"You know, I missed you," He confesses as his mint breath fanned your lips, not breaking eye contact with you. "I missed this," he leans closer before pressing his lips against your neck briefly, making you shudder at how cold his soft lips felt on your neck. He raises his head from your neck to look at your face again, pressing his forehead against yours and forcing you to inhale his expensive perfume, the scent intoxicating and overwhelming you, as typical of Megumi.

"We're not together anymore. I need to go-" You weakly protest, only for him to silence you with kisses, each harsher than the last until you give up and just kiss him back, letting him invade and conquer your mouth with his tongue, exploring every inch until you are both breathless and pulls away from you, foreheads still connected as he steadies his breathing.

"You want to leave me, huh?" He snarls, eyes, knee pressing harder on your throbbing clit, earning a choked moan from you. "Already found someone else? or you're fucking my friends behind my back?"

He doesn't even let you answer as he climbs off you and yanks your body to a face-down position, tying your hands behind your back in a secure knot with his tie, before yanking you back to your position. "You didn't even beg me, you didn't fall on your knees to pray that I return to you." he scoffs as he looks at his masterpiece; you tied up on his chair, legs sprawled out for him to see your clothed crotch, exposed for him to see, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "Or maybe you want me to beg you? For me to apologize and get on my knees," He begins, his knees hitting the plush rug, hot heavy breaths fanning your thighs as his large hands hold them apart. "You want me to eat you out as punishment, huh?"

"Megumi, no, I didn't say-"

You go silent as soon as his head dove into your thighs and took a long sniff of your panties, wet with arousal, proof of your body betraying your mind. Your breathing becomes uneven as soon as you felt his hands move from your thighs to the panties, ripping them apart with a firm pull. Your worried eyes catch him staring at your wet core like a snack, licking his lips hungrily before darting his pink tongue against your clit experimentally. You shut your eyes in embarrassment when you let out a loud moan, jerking your legs at the pleasurable sensation, only getting louder as he aggressively dives his tongue inside you, his straight nose bumping onto your sensitive bud as he eats you out.

Your eyes roll back as soon as he threw your legs over his shoulders, grabbing your pillowy hips and rocking them into your face, thrusting his tongue faster while staring into your eyes with his predator glare, getting you weaker in the knees as he moves at an inhuman pace while he tongue fucks you.

The wet sounds of his tongue gliding into your core, while you moan his name like a mantra -as if that would ever make him go easier on you- only seem to spur him on, eager to taste your cum on his tongue before he properly fucks you to submission.

He is depraved and he knows it, but he doesn't care as long as he has your love and your body all to himself irrespective of how he treated you.

"Megumi-" you cry out, wanting to push his head off your core when you felt a strange coil in your stomach, much different than your usual orgasm -stronger perhaps- building up in your stomach. "Megumi stop, I feel strange," you cry out to him, only for him to send a glare at your direction, moving his head faster while he rocks your hips at a maddening pace despite your protests until he feels you violently shudder, a huge spurt of your cum decorating his tongue and parts of his face much to your horror.

"Shit," He rasps hungrily, lapping and sucking at every drop until he was satisfied, falling back onto the balls of his feet weakly, lips still glistening with your release and his spit, catching his breath for a bit before his pleasure-filled eyes flicker up to your shame-filled face again. "That felt great huh?" he asks quietly, moving up to his feet to stand, hands shakingly unbuttoning his shirt before shrugging it off his shoulders to reveal his beautiful lean torso.

You find yourself ogling at him again and yet you don't stop this time; What was the point? You had given up long before he made you come into his house anyways and now that he has eaten you out, your core only aches for him to fill you up to the brim like he always did, to shape you according to his lengthy cock, your anger and hurt buried deep down by how sexy he looks devouring and overwhelming you.

"See?" he mocks as he loosens his belt, noticing the horny, needy look you had on your face at the sight of him lowering his trousers and boxers to set his lengthy dick free into his palm. "didn't I tell you that you would like it?" he asks menacingly, pumping his dick in his hand as he hovers above your body, waiting for your answer while he climbs on top of you, positioning his cock near your slit. He notices your eyes greedily looking at his member instead of his face and for some reason, it angers him. Hissing under his breath, he grabs your throat and presses his fingers at the sides for you to pay attention to him. "I was asking a question you whore," He states, trying to keep his temper in check while you gasp slightly at the restriction. "but it seems you only like my dick huh? that's all you want?" he sneers as he buries himself inside you. "After I made you cum, you still can't pay attention to me?"

"No, Megumi, it's not like that, wait-" you stutter out, your brain getting foggy as he sheaths himself inside you fully. "Wait, wait, it's too much, pull out, pull out"

"Shut up." He snarls, gripping your throat tighter and forcing you to be quiet.

You could only moan as he begins to pump himself inside of you in quick successions, occasionally pulling himself out and leaving you clenching on nothing, only for him to slam himself inside you and move faster with much vigor, swearing as he pistons himself inside your pussy, hitting every spot you swear he didn't know or care about before, bringing the both of you to the edge again. He mercilessly pounds inside you, his hand releasing your throat and grabbing your feet to press them hard onto your chest so that he goes deeper inside you, as opposed to him just pulling out and dumping his load on your belly when he wasn't with a condom.

As if he is trying to breed you with his children.

Your eyes widen in realization, but it was too late, lost in the sea of pleasure as your climaxes hit, his hot seed pouring deep inside you as you cream all over his orgasming cock, the action only spurring him to cum faster until he was spent, leaving his dick inside you long after it softens.

You both just stay in that same position for a while, his head pressed against your neck until he pulls away from you and leaves you there in an uncomfortable position. You shudder at the feeling of his hot semen trickle down your thighs, tears threatening to gather in your eyes at the realization of his intent before hiding them once you hear his quiet footsteps moving over to you again, bucket in hand and two rags - one in his other hand and one hanging on his neck as if he prepared all this for you.

It was shocking because he would have told you to get lost by now, bare assed underneath your dress, struggling not to let it drop on his floor lest you make him furious.

Kneeling in between your thighs, he soaks the rag and squeezes it hard before wiping off the excess cum and spit on them, his eyes never leaving his work before dumping it inside the water and taking the other one to dry you off. Satisfied, he gets up and reaches behind you before tugging off his silk tie with the flick of his wrist, setting you free from his makeshift bondage.

Free enough to slap him, but you know better than to wander into that dangerous territory.

"I'm tired," He mutters once he gets up. He isn't lying; the dark circles underneath his eyes and the sudden fatigue from the slump of his shoulders gave him away. Has he been sleeping well? "come on, let's go to bed."

You don't protest -you don't even have the chance- as he yanks you up from the chair and takes you in his arms, before making his way to the stairs until you both reach the hallways leading to his room, a place you've always been familiar with for a while. It felt nostalgic in a sick sense, him carrying you to the place of rest while you were aching, just like the first time the two of you met before he moved away.

Maybe Megumi was still that same boy you craved for all those years, kind and caring, willing to help you out. Or maybe he was always the man you devoted your heart to, depraved and cruel and you just didn't have enough time to find out who he truly was because he left. The rumors back in high school about him beating up bullies who pissed him off and then taking advantage of the kindness of the victims by getting whatever he wanted makes more sense now to you as you're seeing it first hand.

You should hate him, really, but he's laying you down on his bed like a gentleman and he's climbing beside you, throwing his hand over your torso and pulling you closer to him until your body presses against his.

How could you hate him when you can hear his heartbeat against his chest while you rest your head on it, yours following in sync as you close your eyes? He made love to you on his couch, ate you out, cleaned you up, and brought you here to rest with him and you thought of hating him? Maybe this was why you made him sick in the first place, your ingratitude! Didn't you see he has changed? Sure, his words were caustic, but that's just the way he talks, you should know by now.

"Megumi." You call out quietly, feeling his sharp jaw on your head. He hums in response, resting his palm flat agaist your thigh.

"I love you."

You expect him to scoff at you before telling you to pick your shoes and leave. You even expect a cold "I know" or "Whatever you say" to come out of his mouth before turning his body to the opposite side and leaving you alone.

Instead, you feel his lips inch closer to your ears before whispering a quiet, "I love you too" and then kissing the shell of your ear, while grinding his semi-hard cock against your ass subtly, light sighs escaping his lips as he felt his dick strain his pants again.

The feeling of his hard-on against your soft ass made you moan softly in response, before shuddering as his large hand pulled your clothes up and guided his cock to the opening of your already wet folds, ready to fill you up to the brim all over again just to show his love.

And he'll keep doing it again every chance he gets, every time he sees you until your stomach starts to swell with his child and you have no excuse not to beg for him to come back when he decides to break you again. The game his twisted mind made up is far over and not even these feelings he harbors for you deep down in his heart would stop him from further destroying you until you were just as miserable as he was and until he - and no one else but him, becomes your only source of joy.

"You love me right? Then you won't mind being my mommy, would you?"

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ layla 2024, do not repost, translate or plagarize my post on this platform or any other platform. before you follow, read my rules first.