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#maybe his spirit gets bored and comes back
kurobachisagi · 1 year
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rambling about this cover bc it makes me soooo crazyyyyyyyy
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i’ve seen a few ppl talk about it but not much and i definitely have some thoughts about it. so ! 
the text on the left, “Those who do not fade, even if time itself does,” makes sense because all of these people end up becoming part of the permanent group of immortals, all of them EXCEPT Kahaku. so What is he doing there. Surely they wouldn’t just place him there with the rest of them paired with that phrase for no reason. I think that maybe in relation in relation to him, it could potentially mean 2 things:
1. referring to Left Hand/the fact that there are still more of Hayase's descendants after him, rather than kahaku himself. Technically Hayase’s/his spirit doesn’t fade and instead lives on in Mizuha, OR
2. perhaps, because Kahaku had such a strong impact on Fushi, it could be something like how he still lives on in their heart just as much as the others did, indicating that Fushi Would definitely revive him if possible. His memory of Kahaku is just as strong as his other friends' actual presence.
or something! who knows? not me
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kitkatscabinet · 11 months
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Don't feed him he'll come back
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simon riley x neighbour! reader
summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.
word count: 1.6k
part 2 here
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There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment block. Though it feels more accurate to say he’s an occasional visitor. He comes and goes, like a lost spirit, unsure and aimlessly wandering. He slinks silently through the hallways like a wraith in the few instances when he is there. 
The first time you see him is just a glimpse from the corner of your eye, a large hulking shadow standing at the door next to your apartment as you step out from yours. 
Your feet stutter to a stop, the landlord had mentioned a neighbour but in the 3 months you’d lived there you’d never seen him. As if sensing your eyes lingering curiously on his form, deep brown eyes turn to meet yours. You can make out no other details of his face, the black material of his balaclava obscuring most of his features. 
A century could have passed in those few seconds and you doubt you’d have noticed. Despite the weariness in his gaze, you found yourself pulled into the deep pools of those stunning eyes. Like a predator, his gaze never moves from your body, even as you offer him a friendly smile and wave before walking down the hall to continue your day. 
You’d heard the uneasily whispered tales of the Ghost that haunted the apartment next to yours from some of the older tenants, though you’d never put much stock into the idle gossip. His burning gaze bores into your back and follows until the doors of the elevator close and you suppose you should feel intimidated. 
It’s hard to conjure up any such feelings, even with the knowledge of the wariness he elicits in others. It’s hard to fear the hulking figure of the Ghost when he had such sad eyes. 
He hid it well but you recognised the loneliness that lined his shoulders, the bone-deep exhaustion for life that managed to slip through tiny cracks in his self-imposed shield. 
You suppose at that moment that even Ghosts can be haunted. 
Maybe that’s why you found yourself knocking on his door later that evening with the tray of pasta bake. Initially, you’d made a large batch to have a few days left over for yourself. Yet just as you opened your fridge you’d hesitated, mind flashing to the man next door. Did he have any food for himself? There was likely nothing fresh, and he’d seemed too exhausted to pull himself to the grocery store during the brief encounter earlier. 
Donning your Crocs, you’d marched over and knocked on his door before it properly registered that you were in pyjamas. The door swings open and your eyes trail up, the balaclava is gone, replaced with a simple black face mask letting you glimpse blond hair. 
“Sorry if this is a bit intrusive, but I figured you probably didn’t have any food so…” you trailed off, pushing the tray towards him, expectantly waiting for him to grab it. It took a few seconds before he robotically took the tray, probably out of sheer confusion more than anything else. Stepping back before he could return the food you offered one last smile before fleeing to the sanctuary of your apartment. 
Two days later you exit your apartment to an empty and cleaned tray, a small note with a simple ‘thank you’ placed within. 
His name’s Simon, and apart from an introduction and the occasional dish left at his door, you don’t actually interact with him again until nearly a month later. And that had simply been a case of forced proximity a la broken elevator style. 
Simon remained unflappable as ever, and it’s at that moment you decide to try and get a reaction that isn’t stoic silence. 
“A bear walks into a bar and says give me a whiskey and …cola” Brown eyes turned to look at you curiously, brow raised to let you know he was listening. “Why the big pause? Asks the bartender. The bear shrugged. I’m not sure, I was born with them.” 
The joke doesn’t land, silence is the only reward for your comedy genius. “Ok, playing hardball. Alright then… Why did Susan fall off the swings?” Again, there is no answer, but a glance at his relaxed posture indicates he’s listening. “Because she had no arms.” 
No laugh but you blaze ahead. 
“Knock knock.” It takes a few seconds but with a playful glare, he responds quietly and with a tinge of amusement. 
“Who’s there?” It’s not the first time you’ve heard his voice, but it still births a serious case of butterflies in your gut that takes more than a few seconds to fight down and regain your composure. 
“Not Susan.” You can’t stop the peal of your giggles at that one, and while you swear you see the corner of his cheek curve upwards a little it’s not enough for you to be satisfied. 
“I can’t believe it’s come to this, but I guess it’s time for the big guns. You better prepare yourself Riley 'cause I’m done holding back.” You pause for a few seconds to let the anticipation settle. 
“What is… Whitney Houston’s favourite type of coordination?” You take a deep breath before positively belting out, “HAAAAAAAND-EEEEEYE.” Whether it’s the shock from the sudden musical number or the joke itself you’re finally rewarded with a faint chuckle. 
“Aha!” you shout in triumph, a smug grin splitting your face, “I heard that laugh, you can do more scowl!”
The doors suddenly open with a ding and Simon pushes off the wall, but not before rolling his eyes playfully your way. Silence once again descends during the walk to your respective apartments, yet it’s not uncomfortable. Swiping your key card it’s just as you step through the threshold that you hear it, 
“Why did the chicken go the seance? To get to the other side.” Whipping your head around, you are met with the sight of his door closing behind his large frame, but a win is a win and you celebrate mentally over the exchange. 
The next time you leave a dish at his door it comes with a written joke. Sure enough, a few days later you received one back. The months start to blur, and your Ghost comes and goes, but the jokes remain. 
Month three sees you snagging his number, a daily joke sent his way even when he can’t respond. Because as much as Simon Riley tried to hide his hurts from the world, he couldn’t hide them from you. 
You’ve loved a soldier before in your brother, can see the signs and smell the gunsmoke and blood from miles away. Apart from his team, it becomes obvious the man has nobody left, and believes he doesn’t deserve to be cared for.
You’re not foolish enough to think you can be that for him, but you are understanding enough to give him the choice. So you continue to send him jokes, puns, pictures of your cat Bingbong and anything that you think will get him to at least smile.  
Three months turns to six turns to eight. He’s not physically there most of the time but you take every opportunity he is to coax him from the loneliness of his apartment like a stray kitten.
Once-a-week dinners at least. Freely sharing your life’s story without expecting anything in return. One evening you’d plopped your chunky tuxedo cat down on his lap and watched him freeze, hands hovering with wide eyes as he considered the ball of fur making biscuits on his thigh. 
It was cute. He was cute. Even when he whipped around to glare when you took a photo, the corners of his lips downturned and tugged at the scars on his face. His bare face wasn’t necessarily a new sight but it causes your breath to hitch nonetheless. 
Something you think he notices given the way his lips quirked up suddenly in a smirk. Rolling your eyes you huffed before plonking yourself down next to him on the couch. Bingbong doesn’t scramble onto your lap like you expect, instead deciding to remain on his new favourite human, traitor. 
You pay very little attention to the movie even though you’d chosen it, too acutely focused on the large bulk of Simon next to you. Your shoulder rests against his arm, his body heat emanating from beneath his hoodie and absorbing into your skin. 
You’ve never been one to fall asleep during movies, but there’s something about Simon’s presence that soothes you, lulling you into a restful slumber as you slump against his chest. Bingbong meows his discontent as you accidentally squish him, jumping away with a huff, none of which you notice. 
It’s the sun shining straight onto your face through the open blinds that wakes you the next morning, a groan of confusion leaving your lips as you stretch and look around to orient yourself. 
Sitting up, the blanket that you just now realised covered your form fell down to your waist. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes your phone falls to the floor when you stand, the screen flicking on to display the time. 
It’s not until you sleepily stumble into your bedroom, plugging your nearly dead phone in and face-planting onto your pillow that you realise Simon must have tucked you in. The smile that covers your face is so wide it is painful and you fall asleep once more, dreaming of the phantom sensation of his arms wrapped around you.
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I DREAM, NOW, OF A NORMAL LIFE WITH YOU ; SUGURU GETO
synopsis; suguru isn’t a lightweight. this is your first time actually seeing him drunk — though maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’d be the sappy kind.
word count; 9.4k (..... i got carried away ok)
contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader (shoko calls u "girl" but in a "girl help" way not a gendered way), written w a no curses au in mind, sugu is a sappy emotional drunk i said what i said, sickening amounts of fluff, depictions of intoxication, reader is averse to alcohol, sugu wants to marry u so bad it makes him look silly, lots of emotions & lots of love <33
a/n; this fic has been ROTTING in my drafts for the longest time but its super precious to me and now i finally get to post it!! @softgirlgonehaywire & @hayakawalove ily ty for being interested in sappy!sugu this is a treat for u <33
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the bar isn’t all that far off from your apartment.
it’s a short distance, really. walk straight ahead, until you reach the record store that suguru likes to frequent, and then take a right; a minute or two uphill, and then you’ll be able to see the blue of the sea. once you’re there, all that’s left is to look for mellow golden lighting and descend a set of stairs.
which is what you’re currently doing, popsicle in hand, loose clothes and comfortable shoes on as you wallow in the mellow summer evening. everything is blue — the dark shade of the sky, and your ice pop, pastel and sweet, tasting of pure youth. the hoodie you threw on is a rich cobalt, suguru’s in name but yours in spirit. he only wears it when you complain that it doesn’t smell like him anymore.
humming a jolly tune, you take a sharp turn, allowing the summer sensations to curl around your subconscious. blissed out and content. 
you were so, so bored — stuck at home with no one to keep you company, no one to mumble snarky commentary about the show playing on tv, no one to run their fingers through your hair while your head rests in their lap. pure torture, really, being faced with the consequences of your own actions. after you stupidly told suguru you’d be okay on your own.
he even asked you twice, just to be sure, even told you that he’d prefer you to join him on his night out. and again, you declined; because it’s been so long since he had some time alone with shoko and satoru, and you were feeling a little tired anyways. 
so he gave in. heading out, with a promise to bring back a tub of your favorite ice cream, leaving you with the apartment to yourself. did you come to regret your little white lie? maybe. possibly.
but everything worked out in the end.
a pleasant breeze caresses your skin, brushing against the apple of your cheek, and you watch as peach blossoms dance in a faraway park. cicadas cling to every tree in sight, buzzing a pleasant tune, mingling with the giddy giggles of high school students enjoying their summer vacation. it’s been raining for a couple of days; you can still smell it in the air, feel it in the low tinge of humidity clinging to your skin, still hear suguru’s insistence that you bring an umbrella with you to work — just in case.
but today, the skies were clear, and it’s late, not too humid but not too chilly. and the stars are out, glimmering in that fuzzy sea of mellow cerulean, leaking out like little marbles cast into space. falling down, down, down, close enough for you to see. from here, it looks as if they’re waving. you resist the urge to wave back.
peace. bliss. a nostalgia so vibrant you could drown in it, feel it lick at your ankles like soft sea foam.
eager to scratch a certain itch in your brain, attention span zipping from one street vendor to the pop music blasting from a couple streets away, you take your phone out from your pocket. absently scrolling through your messages, until you get to the ones shoko sent you just ten minutes ago. the ones that brought you out here, into a summer evening soon to slip into nightfall, ones that have you walking to the bar you chose not to join them at.
messages that still have you pushing back a bout of giggles, chewing lazily on your ramune ice pop with a giddy smile.
sho 🚬: come get ur man sho 🚬: he’s drunk. sho 🚬: like DRUNK drunk 
you: …… um.  you: what happened to hi? hello?? good evening???
sho 🚬: no time for that. look sho 🚬: [ image ] sho 🚬: he looks so goofy lol
unable to resist the temptation, you press the pad of your finger against the screen — opening the image attachment, just to drink in the sight once again. what you see is a certain man, slumped over in his seat, cheek smooshed against the wooden table in front of him. messy hair, no longer tied into a bun, cascading down his shoulders and back. from the little you can see of his face, his skin is flushed a light pink, and his eyes are closed, fingers still curled around an empty beer jug. 
like a sleepy puppy.
a coo tiptoes on your tongue, but you bite down on your lip in an effort to stop it, just grinning at your screen with pure adoration in your lovesick eyes. 
he’s drunk, alright. an unfamiliar sight, but not at all unwelcome. because he’s cute, terribly so, so cute that it hurts, even when he’s obviously wasted. it’s almost funny — you know their drinking habits. shoko holds her liquor so well that it’s a little horrifying, and satoru can get wasted if he has more than a sip of it. and suguru?
suguru never gets drunk. he barely even drinks. out of consideration for satoru, maybe, or you. probably both. that’s just how he is; you thought he hated fish for years, because he was always so eager to give you the best bites of the sushi rolls you ordered. turns out he was just indulging you.
so, to be frank — the idea of him suddenly being drunk is a little bit of a shocker. but it’s also kind of exciting, in a ridiculous way. new, fun, just what you need when you’re bored out of your mind.
(or maybe you’re just happy to have an excuse to go see him.)
you: NOOOO  you: MY BABY 😭😭😭 you: what did u guys DO to him???
sho 🚬: satoru and him made a bet 😐 you know how they are sho 🚬: he drank like a divorced mother of four ive never seen something so beautiful
you: …. you: have i told you that you’re both terrible
sho 🚬: u love us <33 sho 🚬: anyway he’s been asking me where u are for the past ten minutes pls come i can’t stand him sho 🚬: he’s crying.
you: HUH???????? you: WHY????????????????
sho 🚬: dude i dont know sho 🚬: please come get him he’s being so sappy that satoru’s abt to throw up
you: ???? okok 😭 you: im omw ig??
sho 🚬: girl hurry he just told me he genuinely appreciates my presence in his life 😐
an exhale — laced with deep amusement — drops from your lips and spills into the summer air. it tastes like a memory from long ago.
slipping your phone back into your pocket, you raise your gaze, searching for a glimmer of goldish light. soaking up the scent of the ocean, sparkling on the border of your peripheral. salty and sweet.
no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is that certain someone, waiting for you to pick him up. your mind keeps drifting back to the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his hair falls over his face when he leans down, the sound he makes when he stretches in the morning.
you want to see him. badly. you want him near, want to feel the familiar warmth of his presence, want to see him smile and laugh and sigh and raise his eyebrow at your antics. 
so there isn’t any time to waste. you’re walking towards that familiar set of stairs before you know it, shoes hitting the asphalt with a mantra of satisfying thuds. 
and when you step in through the opened door, you’re immediately engulfed by a sense of overflowing comfort. mellow, warm lights, the soft buzzing of static from an old radio, low citypop beats trailing through the air. the bartender by the counter gives you a curt nod in greeting, before motioning towards a certain table. it’s over in the corner, covered in beer jugs and fancy glasses, with three beauties seated around it.
satoru notices you first.
a bright grin finds its way onto his face, and he waves you over giddily, happily. barely contained excitement in the motion. shoko’s gaze follows his, flitting over to meet yours — and you think she mouths an oh, thank god, before taking another sip from her glass. she brings a hand up in greeting when you come closer, and you can’t see her smile, but there’s a crinkle to her eyes; a warmth in them that you’d never miss.
”hey, guys.”
”yo!” satoru chirps, beaming in a way that’s so distinctly him it makes you soften. he looks so comfortable in his seat, with a cocktail you know is non-alcoholic and probably too sweet for anyone but him to stomach. giggling to himself, leaning over to poke suguru’s cheek, with a teasing declaration of your chaperone is here! 
and there he is. 
the man you came here for, still slumped over in his seat, unresponsive. not for long. as the lilt of your voice reaches his ears, his eyes flutter open, in a bout of recognition — even in the drunken state he’s in. an immediate sensation of familiarity creeps into his veins, rousing him from his cozy, half-asleep stupor. 
he doesn’t even grumble over the way satoru keeps poking at his cheek, interest and attention focused solely on a certain someone. you, your presence. 
and when your eyes meet his, he lights up.
it’s precious, you think, how his eyes widen, blooming with genuine affection, so endearing you could kiss him right then and there. his face is flushed, and his hair is tousled, and the warm lighting of the bar paints him in a golden hue. so perfect for him, your star in the sky. 
a smile spreads across his lips, big and happy and warm, and you can’t help but mirror it. 
(gosh, he’s cute.)
with a dizzy kind of eagerness, suguru sits up, palms flush against the table to support his weight. he stumbles out of his seat, paying no heed to satoru’s amused huff of careful! or the rattling of fragile glass.
it only takes a few uncoordinated steps for him to reach you, where you haphazardly lean against the wall, watching him amusedly. that delighted smile never leaves his lips, as his arms go to curl around your waist, big and heavy, his jaw finding its rightful place on the curve of your shoulder. 
”baby,” he drawls, fond and affectionate. breathing you in. ”sweetheart. my angel.”
a flustered puff of laughter slips from your lips, stumbling a little under his weight. his voice is syrupy sweet, overflowing with love and adoration, soft in a way that has your knees buckling. a little raspy. murmured right into your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. 
he’s too sweet for you to handle, really, even sweeter than satoru’s overpriced cocktail. and he smells the same as always; a blend between coffee grounds, cigarette smoke and rain, one that never fails to soothe you. even when it’s tangled up with a vague but vivid stench of alcohol, courtesy of the drinking he’s been doing until now. 
you crinkle your nose, but don’t let go of him, nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head. words buzzing with warmth. ”hey, sugu.”
suguru only squeezes you tighter, content to have you in his arms. finally, his world makes sense again. all he can do is bask in your voice, warmth, scent — he’s just so enamored by it all. almost in a trance, heartstrings dancing along to the beat of your presence, your very existence, that appears to him as something almost angelic. soft and familiar, something that feels right at home when it’s tucked into his embrace. where he can keep it safe.
”missed you…” he murmurs, sleepy, smearing an open mouthed kiss against the crook of your neck. ”i love you s’much…”
a chuckle. ”i love you too,” you echo, running a steady hand over his back. your voice is laced with something teasing, but awfully fond. ”you really are drunk, aren’t you?”
”mm…” he only hums, cheek pressed flush against your soft skin. ”’m sorry…” he mumbles, stifling a yawn. he sounds a little guilty, and it makes you want to coo. pull his cheek a little.
instead, you laugh. amusement vowen into the bubbly noise. ”it’s fine, sugu. c’mon — let’s go home, alright?”
at that, satoru visibly reacts, placing his glass on the table with a soft clink before getting up to stretch. he grabs suguru’s discarded jacket, letting it hang off his arm as he walks over to the two of you.
”i’ll help you carry him,” he smiles, always so dependable. so ready to be of service. maybe a little too eager to carry suguru around like a sack of potatoes. 
a smile blooms on your face, and satoru gives you a playful wink. shoko just leans back in her seat, stretching idly. it feels like home with them there.
”i’ll stay here,” she hums, a faint grin tugging at her lips. ”he’s your problem now.”
”got it.” you meet her lidded eyes, sharing an amused look as satoru tries to coax suguru away from you, pulling at his cheek while he whines and clings to the fabric of your clothing.
finally, he relents, and you look back at the table with a grin. ”see you later, sho’.”
a smile is the only response you get, but it’s enough. it’s her, the same as always, still sipping from a glass of expensive whiskey and raising her hand in a silent see you. relaxed and cool, and so very lovely. 
with one arm over satoru’s shoulder and the other clinging to your hoodie, suguru stirs.
”shoko…” he groans, craning his head to look back at her, even as satoru makes a move to leave. ”don’t drink too much. and watch out for strangers…” 
he trails off, blinking drowsily, a protective tone to his voice. worried. awfully like him. neither you nor satoru can resist the chuckle you indulge in, but shoko just rolls her hazel eyes.
”i don’t need to hear that from you,” she scoffs, tinged with amusement and what you’re almost certain is embarrassment. there’s a fondness to her snark, one you’d never miss. 
(shoko will always be shoko. you know that she appreciates suguru’s concern, even if she doesn’t want to show it.)
”alright, c’mon,” satoru quips, slapping suguru’s back with a grin. ”there, there, big guy. let’s get you home, hm?”
just as you suspected, he doesn’t let you help, doing all the heavy lifting on his own. not breaking a single sweat, flaunting his strength as he hoists suguru up the steps — while you do nothing but follow, a light jacket hanging off your arm. 
cold midnight air embraces you, slathering your cheeks with the essence of summer as your shoes meet the asphalt. satoru smiles, a low exhale escaping him, dusting off his hands. ”there we go.”
suguru stumbles towards you, no longer caged in, slumping against your shoulder with a satisfied sigh. blinking slowly, as you link arms, his muddled senses adjusting to the outside world. a pleasantly blue sky, a sun long set, and a string of lamp posts to light up the street ahead of you. artificial fireflies, watching over the town you love so dearly.
you part your lips, and a soft exhale slips out, dripping with fondness. ”thanks, satoru,” you smile, meeting his gaze.
”don’t mention it,” he waves you off, but you know he appreciates it; always eager to be praised. ”can you bring him back by yourself?”
”yeah, we’ll be fine. it’s close, anyway. don’t worry.”
a hum buzzes in his throat, and his cobalt gaze drifts upwards, to bask in the starry sky. a moment passes, and then he’s looking back at you and suguru; a soft and earnest smile playing at his lips. so sincere you want to reach out, cup his cheek, make sure he knows how loved he is.
”i’ll go back to shoko, then,” he chirps. bubbly and graceful, giddy and playful. always so lovely. ”gotta make sure she stays out of trouble.”
a chuckle. you mirror his smile. ”of course.”
and with that, your precious best friend makes a move to return to the bar, taking a decisive step away from you. before he can get too far, though, a certain hand reaches out to hold onto his sleeve — keeping him still.
satoru turns around. blinking once, then twice, in confusion; faced with none other than suguru, still slumped against you. a little out of it, sleepy and disoriented, yawning quietly, but his eyes are as clear as ever. caring and sentimental. 
his gaze cuts to the bone of things. it’s something you’ve grown used to.
”thanks, satoru,” he murmurs, letting go of said man’s shirt. the words that spill from his lips are straightforward, a little tactless, but overflowing with earnest appreciation. ”you’re my best friend.”
a moment passes. the stars burn in silence.
satoru blinks.
then he sighs, with what you know is nothing more than feigned annoyance. masking his embarrassment, the same way shoko did, the same way suguru always does. your repressed, beloved little losers. 
”yeah, yeah. i got it,” he pats suguru’s shoulder, once, twice. not looking at him. ”you’re such a sap, you know that? geez.”
a grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief blooming in your eyes. ”not gonna call him your best friend back?” you tease, a soft tilt of your head.
satoru gives you a glare, playful, one you can’t physically see from behind his shades but still somehow sense. ”don’t add fuel to the fire,” he grins, with a halfhearted flick to your forehead.
before you can bicker further, suguru yawns, loudly, closing his eyes and nuzzling into you. you share an amused look with satoru, until he shakes his head fondly.
”take care of him, alright?”
”i will. you guys have fun!”
and at last, satoru turns on his heel, coupled with a smile and a lazy wave. but suguru calls out to him once more, unwilling to part ways without saying his piece. so sentimental, so loving it comes to him like breathing.
”bye-bye, satoru,” he slurs, voice loud enough for the entire street to hear, tired and honest. raising his arm in a lazy wave. ”i love you!”
”go home already!” satoru shouts, descending down the steps with a flush to his cheeks that you’ll tease him for later. his soft laughter is carried away by the breeze, sweet and saccharine.
(satoru will always be satoru. you know that he loves suguru back, even if he doesn’t want to say it out loud.)
with a faint chuckle, melting into the summer air, you tug on suguru’s arm. ”alright,” you chirp, looking up at him. ”let’s go!”
he seems a little more awake now, at least, trying to match your steps. meanwhile, you do what you can to support his weight; he’s stumbling a bit, but you don’t mind. if anything, his weight is a comfort, your arms linked together like a lucky charm. a safe harbour.
suguru is acting kind of like a big puppy, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. a little meek, clinging to you, trailing after you pliantly. he’s a little dizzy, still, and he needs you to get back home in one piece. it makes you puff out your chest, stand up straighter. makes you feel protective of your 6’2 boyfriend, all toned muscle and broad shoulders, the personification of scary dog privilege. but he needs you right now.
a soft bout of laughter spills into the air, as you try to ignore his heavy stare. it’s impossible, though — so you turn your gaze to meet his own, and he practically glows under the sound of your giggles, that cheeky smile you’re wearing. ”you okay, suguru?”
his eyes soften. silently, he runs a thumb over the knots of your knuckle, smoothing down your skin, thick fingers intertwined with yours. 
he looks deep into your eyes, and a soft hum of affirmation buzzes in his throat. 
”i’m just so happy,” he grins, with a sincerity that has your heart doing flips inside your ribcage. it flutters, flutters, flutters, in the wake of his unbridled joy. it buzzes like it wants to break out.
suguru has this dreamy look on his face, one you can do nothing but admire, painted over with fluorescent moonlight and pure summer bliss. one that reminds you a little of high school rooftops, midnight road trips, what it means to be in love.
you nudge him, softly, with the arm that’s tangled up in his own. tilting your head, teasing words on the tip of your tongue. ”you know, i never took you for a sappy drunk.”
suguru's only response is a cute little mmrn, steps heavy as he leans on you for support. trying his best to carry himself, not wanting to inconvenience you, but it’s just a little tough. especially when he feels this soft, this grateful — this blessed.
a giddy, dreamy smile tugs at his lips. his amber gaze travels up, towards the little pale dots of star clusters all across the night sky, gleaming like milk poured over rich coffee. then he exhales; a soft, blissful little sound. ”i’m so lucky.”
a moment passes, silently. in the distance, cicadas buzz. with a patient smile, you admire him, the reflection of starlight in his eyes. suguru has this forlorn look, etched into his expression, like he’s seeing something that isn’t quite there.
”i have satoru and shoko…” he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear. as if he’s tasting the words on his tongue, as if he can’t quite believe them himself. that’s how lucky he feels, sometimes.
a nod. ”they love you a bunch, you know?”
(they do. they’re both horrible at saying it out loud, but you know they do. you know that they love suguru, just as much as he loves them, even if none of them are good at putting it into words. perhaps they don’t really even need to, in the first place.)
suguru mirrors the soft nod of your head, bangs falling over his eyes as he does. ”and i love them, too.” his smile grows. ”they’re my best friends.”
absently, you reach a hand out, brushing away the strands of hair obscuring his vision. and suguru stirs, his gaze shifting until it falls on you. like a moth to a flame. there’s something indescribable in his eyes, soft and heavy and tender and true.
”— and i have you.”
a stutter of your heartbeat, a jolt throughout your chest. his stare almost burns, but you can’t avert your gaze — suguru looks positively lovesick. admiring you with a dreamy gaze, as if he can’t believe you’re real. 
he reaches a hand out; cradling your face with one big palm, the rough pads of his fingers smoothing down your skin so very gently. smearing his fondness from your jaw to your cheekbone, so loving your breath hitches in the back of your throat. 
a soft, content sigh spills into the air, like a prayer that doesn’t need any words. his smile is serene.
”my angel.” 
as the words fall, that peaceful smile of his changes shape, shifting into a big, giddy grin. it lights up his whole face. a chuckle leaves his lips, content and delighted. ”i’m the luckiest guy in the world.”
and for a moment, you fear that your heart will stop beating entirely. frozen, listening to the lullaby of your heartbeat resounding in your ears. 
suguru has always been frighteningly good at flustering you — but isn’t this a little unfair? you clear your throat, hoping to regain some composure. it’s tough, though. your words could never measure up to his, could never flow as freely, but they’re honest. wholly and thoroughly. and maybe that’s enough. 
”we’re the luckiest in the world, too, then,” you echo, smiling, words barely above a whisper. willing yourself to meet his gaze. ”since we have you.”
suguru looks into your eyes. there’s starlight inside them, he thinks, shining brightly, gleaming in the dark. with the hazy filter of intoxication clouding his mind, it’s all he can think. you’re his northern star, his lighthouse. his one and only saving grace.
(you’re so, so pretty.)
a pause. after a silent moment, spent etching your features into his retinas, suguru tilts his head. his expression is unreadable.
— he boops your nose.
you blink. once, twice, caught entirely off guard; and suguru giggles. soft, giddy little breaths falling from his lips like marbles, strewn over the sand of a warm beach. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and his smile is sweet, meeting your surprised gaze with a honeyed coo. ”you’re so cute, baby.”
silence. you look up at him. 
then you sigh, exasperated, more flustered than you’d like to admit. god. okay, he’s really out of it. for some reason, you still thought you could get a good one-liner in, but of course he had to ruin that by being a little tease.
you grab onto his bicep. gaze fixed straight ahead, giving it a tug. your steps are more decisive now, and suguru follows you happily. ”alright, alright. c’mon,” you beckon, slightly gruff. ”we’re almost there.”
when you finally reach the familiar front door of your apartment, you exhale a deep sigh, laced with pure relief. limbs tired from dragging suguru up the stairs, mind muddled and sleepy and senses practically engulfed by a man still clinging to you like his life depends on it.
after fumbling with your keys and hearing the click of the lock, you take a victorious step over the threshold, and a familiar scent greets you. soothing, comforting, a blend between fresh laundry and leftover curry and blooming hydrangeas. filling your senses with a fervent kind of bliss. of course, suguru’s does the same; intimately intertwined with the scent of home. that everlasting, never-changing blend. 
with him clinging to you like this, it’s almost suffocating — but you truly don’t mind. suguru’s warm, and sweet, and being close to him like this makes you feel at peace. his hands rest on your hips, his jaw on your shoulder, and he adamantly refuses to let go of you for even a second. it’d be annoying if he wasn’t so cute, if he wasn’t suguru geto, if you weren’t so horrendously weak for him.
what you don’t know is that suguru has an agenda. one that isn’t just i want to hug the love of my life, although partially that as well. suguru has a plan, one he’s been absentmindedly dreaming of for the past five minutes; he’s a man on a mission.
but he’s patient. always has been, always for you. so he waits, and waits, for you to hang his jacket up, for you to kick your shoes off your feet. and when you’re finally, finally finished, suguru leans in to kiss you.
— you block his mouth with the palm of your hand.
a moment passes. silent, almost tense. in his stupor, suguru’s mind can’t quite seem to comprehend the situation before him; he doesn’t understand why he isn’t pressing a kiss to your lips, right now, why he’s kissing the skin of your palm. he doesn’t understand why you look so troubled, a faint guilt simmering in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand.
all he can do is blink, dumbly, surprised. a question written on his features clear as day. 
”well, it’s just…” you sputter, sheepishly. avoiding his gaze, a little guilty. ”you know. since you’ve been drinking, and all…”
and it hurts, you think. it hurts a lot more than it should. it hurts to reject him, hurts to see the way he deflates at your clarification. like a big kicked puppy. like you just threatened to throw him out into the street.
suguru removes your hand, gently, holding it in his own as he speaks. those amber eyes are downcast, and a soft pout rests on his lips. the sight alone feels like a dagger to your chest.
”but…” he frowns, voice awfully meek. he looks so sad. ”i wanna kiss you…”
a soft sigh leaves your lips, before you can think to hold it in. oh, he’s being so unfair. guilt clings to your mind, an itch you yearn to scratch, and all you want is to kiss his pout away. but you really, really don’t want to kiss his alcohol-soaked lips.
so you settle for the second best option.
”’m sorry, sugu,” you coo, reaching a hand out to cradle his cheek. he leans into your touch, still pouting, and you tug a little at his bottom lip. wasting no time in closing the narrow distance between you.
the kisses you press against his skin are soft. peppering kisses all across his face; ghosting your lips along his jaw, trailing towards his cheekbones, and settling on his forehead. tiny little pecks, wherever you can reach. your voice is soft, muffled into his skin between butterfly kisses. ”tomorrow, okay?” 
and suguru seems to brighten up a little, melting under the contact, exhaling in pure bliss. he fervently returns the treatment, planting open mouthed kisses all over your face, respecting your wishes and avoiding your lips. they’re a little sloppy, but you don’t mind.
it does make you a little flustered, though. with his palms cradling your face, engulfing you, there’s nothing you can do except drown in his affection, the love he showers you with. it tickles — and suguru’s smile only grows, at the sound of your soft giggles. his cheeks are starting to hurt.
the state he’s in is just a little bit hazy. despite his initial dejection, he no longer minds that he can’t feel your lips against his, disappointment warded off by your smile and laughter alone. he thinks you’re so, so cute, and all he wants is to kiss you forever. 
but you have other plans.
and before you know it, you’re both curled up in bed, limbs all tangled up beneath the blankets, bodies pressed together as suguru cages you in. he squeezes you tightly, hugging you close, practically melting into you. usually, it’d be so easy to fall asleep like this. with suguru cradling you, covering your body with his own, warm and safe. he’s like a furnace. 
but right now, it’s a little tough. you’re kept awake by open mouthed, ticklish kisses pressed against your skin, supplied by the love of your life. it’s sweet, but he’s being far too distracting — as soon as your consciousness begins to fade into the fuzzy realm of sleep, he leaves a sloppy kiss against your collarbone, and you’re jolted awake once more. 
”suguuu,” you whine, dragging his name out with childish inclination. ”we need to sleep…”  
”sorry,” he only murmurs, muffled into your skin. he doesn’t stop, though, planting a wet smooch on your cheek, and then another. you squirm a little in his hold, and he emits a shaky breath. ”jus’ love you so much…”
suguru knows that he needs to stop. he knows that both of you need to sleep, that you need to rest up. that he needs to recover from the intoxicated state he’s fully aware that he’s in — but he just can’t seem to follow through with it. every cell in his body burns with a certain desire, a need to shower you in love, and it’s unendurable. with every kiss, every giggle he manages to pull from your lips, suguru’s heart fills up just a little more. 
your presence surrounds him, like a weighted blanket, and he clings to it with a desperation he never knew before you. 
in the midst of his feverish consciousness, you’re all his muddled mind can think about. the way you fit together with him like a puzzle piece, like he was formed in the shape of someone meant to hold you. like you were formed in the shape of his embrace. with you pressed up against him, limbs tangled with his, everything feels so right.
but it’s so overwhelming. 
you’re so, so close, so close he’s practically engulfed by your scent, your touch, everything that makes his heart burn with devotion. it’s beating so viscerally in his ribcage, stirring the protective instinct inside him; he just wants you to stay close, by his side, wants to keep you safe and happy. wants to make you feel loved. 
suguru’s heart feels wet and raw and bare, fully exposed for you to see. beating just for you.
with the alcohol inside his veins, and the nostalgia of the summer evening on his mind, everything weighs on him just a little too heavily. everything feels just a little too much. every sensation, every emotion, every sappy thought. all of it together is almost too much for him to handle.
all he can think of is you. how lucky he is, to have met you, to have gotten to know you. how much you’ve changed him, changed him for the better, how much of him is directly tied to your existence.
suguru never truly appreciated his name until you came into his life. it was always no more than a simple fact, a gift from his parents that he hadn’t asked for. something natural, that he didn’t question, didn’t think about. 
but you say his name with such warmth.
he wants to hear you say it, over and over again, forever. suguru — in that sweet, lovely voice of yours. better yet, just sugu, a cutesy, silly nickname he could never bring himself to actually hate. he just wants to hear you call out to him, with that warmth of yours, the one that never fails to soothe him. no matter how tired he is, how stressed. how much everything else weighs down on him. 
at the end of the day, he’s simply your sugu. and that’s all he ever really wants to be.
with a hazy filter clouding his senses, coaxing him into closing his eyes, suguru should give in. he should fall asleep, let you fall asleep. but he can’t bring himself to stop thinking about it; he just loves you so wholly. who you are, what you do. as an equal, an individual, a little galaxy tucked into a body made of flesh and blood. no matter what you’re doing, no matter where you are. 
and right now, you’re here, with him. curled up in bed, in your shared apartment, inhaling the same air, exhaling at the same time. by his side, when you could be anywhere else in the world.
his heart is yours. that’s all suguru can bring himself to think, the only coherent thought he can cling to and echo in his head. his heart is yours. forever and ever. 
he makes no attempt to stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, even as he feels them cling to his lashes, even as his breathing clogs up in the back of his throat. they’re proof of his devotion, his carefully nurtured love. growing over the years, into something almost sacred, a kind of faith. something so fervent he wouldn’t dare deny himself of feeling it.
he can’t hold in a faint sniffle, either, just barely audible. one that breaks your heart in two. it aches, aches, aches. suguru is gazing at you with glassy eyes, a sight you aren’t used to seeing — but he also looks so genuinely glad. his tears aren’t ones of sadness. you know, because you know him. 
”aw, honey…” you coo, the pads of your fingers reaching out to cradle his cheek. despite your efforts, your voice wavers when you speak, little more than a whisper. ”don’t cry... you’ll make me cry, too.”
suguru places his larger palm over yours, choking on another sniffle. the sight renders you completely helpless — you want so desperately to stop his tears from falling, but a part of you is too touched to speak. too mesmerized by how beautiful he is, translucent tears illuminated by softly flickering moonrays, lashes glimmering like shooting stars.
all you can do is smooth a thumb right under his eye, wiping away a stray tear with enough tenderness to stitch his heart back together. suguru emits a shaky breath.
”’m sorry,” he sniffles, closing his eyes. nuzzling into the crook of your neck. ”i’m just so happy… love you so much… you mean so, so much to me, i…”
an exhale, a little breathless, tears soaking through the material of the shirt you’re wearing. his shirt. that realization makes him cry even more, a shuddering breath that shatters like glass when it drops from his tongue. 
and then, in a voice so quiet you barely hear it, a soft whisper worth a million words:
”i don’t know what i’d do without you.”
and it hurts. your heart aches so sincerely, thorns curling around your ribcage, because suguru is crying, and he’s telling you all this. with such an honest intonation that you don’t dare doubt him, even for a second. heavy thumps of blood rush through your veins; he’s still clinging to you, sniffling into your neck, and you’re so in love with him that you almost can’t comprehend it.
all you can do is press a kiss to his shoulder, chaste and tender, and hug him just a little tighter. echoing his words, in earnest, desperately trying to keep your voice from breaking apart. ”i love you, too. more than anything.” a sigh, full of wonder. little butterfly kisses scattered across the expanse of his neck. ”you mean the world to me. honestly.”
with a smile against his skin, you hope so tenderly that the soft kisses will comfort him, will stop the tears from falling. 
”my sweet boy,” you murmur, lovingly, because he is. the sweetest boy you’ll ever know. suguru shudders when you press your lips against his jaw. ”i’m so, so lucky.”
with the combined efforts of your kisses, the alcohol slumbering inside his veins, and the tears running down his cheeks, suguru begins to feel awfully tired. sinking into sleep’s embrace, like a sailor lost at sea. comforted by the glimmer of a lighthouse, just out of reach.
everything feels right. he’s safe, and happy, and in love. so hopelessly, blissfully in love.
the exhaustion creeps up on him, tidal waves embracing a shore, beckoning him into closing his weary eyes. a yawn leaves his lips, and he shifts a little in your hold. you’re smoothing down the back of his head, almost protectively, and sleep is only a flicker away for the both of you. with the last of his strength, suguru snuggles just a little further into you, nose pressed up against your neck, close enough that he feels the flutter of your heartbeat. 
”wanna be with you forever,” he murmurs, sleepily, stifling another bout of yawns. his smile is sweet and dreamy. ”gonna marry you one day…”
a moment passes.
for a second, you think your heart does actually cease beating entirely.
swallowing a gulp, you allow yourself the luxury of an inhale — and fresh air fills your lungs. grounding. all you can hear is the rapid beating of your own heart, heavy thumps reverberating in your ears. warmth flows through your entire body.
marry.
the word is spoken so casually, so sincerely, as if he’s said it countless times before. as if he’s repeated it, over and over again in his mind, just to get used to the idea. as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. marriage. something so foreign, so scary, enough to send shivers down every narrow of your skeleton. such a large step to take. 
(but suguru says it with such tenderness.)
”… okay,” you whisper, at last. breathless. ”i’ll be waiting, then.”
there’s nothing else to say. you don’t know if suguru is even conscious enough to hear you, let alone understand the full weight of your words, of his own words. but you don’t mind. 
a soft smile lingers on your lips, as you stroke his hair, mind hazy and limbs heavy. nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head, full of affection. dripping from your hands down to the column on his throat, through his windpipe, down to his heart.
”goodnight, sugu.” you press a kiss to his messy hair, tender and chaste. ”i love you.”
an incoherent mutter leaves his lips, in response, one you can’t quite make out — but you don’t need to. because you already know what it means, in the same way you know that the sky is blue.
(an echo buried deep within his subconscious, voiced without effort, as easy as breathing.
i love you, too.)
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the sizzling of a pan and the whirring of a coffee machine form a beautiful morning symphony, bouncing off the walls of your kitchen. to your ears, and your still sleepy brain, it’s a soothing sound — coaxing soft little melodic hums from the depths of your throat.
with such a tantalizing aroma in the air, a blend between espresso and pancake batter, you can’t help but buzz with a mellow, groggy kind of joy.
honestly, you're beginning to understand suguru’s fondness for the morning hours. waking up to his soft snores and content expression was more than enough to give you the energy you needed to get out of bed; all sleepy and relaxed and pretty, with hazy morning sunrays kissing up his bare skin, caressing his messy bedhead. 
a rare sight, awfully precious. a part of you wanted to stay in bed and admire him all morning, but the thought of taking care of him coaxed you into leaving. it’s the least you could do, really — after seeing him so sincere, so open and vulnerable. 
hopefully, his headache won’t be too brutal when he wakes up. you left some hangover pills on the nightstand, courtesy of shoko’s advice: just get him ibuprofen and coffee. works like a charm. are you a little worried about her nonchalance? maybe. but you trust her judgement. they’re a handful, but you love them — even when they’re drunk or hungover. 
which is why you’re standing in the kitchen, engulfed by the morning sunlight, in front of a sizzling pan. trying your very best not to burn the pancakes you’re making, patiently waiting for the coffee to be done. 
in your blissful stupor, caught up with thoughts of suguru and breakfast and forevers, you don’t notice another presence coming up behind you.
two arms wrap around your waist, and a jaw attaches itself to the curve of your shoulder. you startle, a little, jolting at the contact — but then you recognize that telltale scent, the familiar weight of his arms, and immediately melt into the embrace.
suguru breathes out a raspy chuckle, amused at your surprise. 
a sigh slips from your lips, content. ”good morning,” you hum, placing the palm of your hand on his forearm. suguru shifts a little, getting more comfortable as he leans against you. tenderly, not too much weight. he’s delicate like that.
”g’morning,” he rasps, leftover sleep clinging to the syllables. the usual smoothness of his voice is coupled with a deep, rough kind of tilt, one that always accompanies it in the morning. your heartbeat picks up, silently.
suguru smiles. dreamy, giddy, because you just looked so pretty, in the morning light, hair still a tad messy. humming happily, swaying slightly side to side. so irresistible. he’s beginning to understand why you love sleeping in so much; getting to wrap his arms around you like this, instead of the other way around, doesn’t feel bad at all.
he squeezes you just a little tighter, hoping it’ll convey his gratitude. there are holes in his memory, last night no more than a blurry sequence of still images, but some bits and pieces remain intact. he remembers getting drunk in a way he hasn’t since he made that bet with satoru back in high school — and he remembers that you were there to take care of him.
a smile tugs at his lips. a little giddy, butterflies erupting in his chest. he’s so damn lucky.
”thanks for taking care of me yesterday, sweetheart.”
a hum. you smile, sheepishly, patting his arm. ”don’t need to thank me for that. how do you feel?”
suguru smiles. you feel it, against your skin, a chaste kiss on your neck. ”better.”
the low purring of the coffee machine has stopped, but the sizzling of the pan remains. from beyond the opened windows, you can hear the chirping of cicadas, melodic and serene. singing a summery tune. both of you soak in the preciousness of the moment, the fragile silence, before suguru breaks it.
”everything from last night is kinda fuzzy,” he admits, clearing his throat. just a tad sheepish. you simply hum, a low noise of acknowledgement, and he continues. ”i don’t really remember anything… ’m sorry, baby. i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
your lips curl up into a tiny smile. such a sweetheart — always worrying about you. always so caring and attentive. eager to reassure him, you smooth over the skin of his arm with your thumb. ”not at all.”
then you’re taking a couple steps back, moving from the stove, and suguru follows. you turn yourself around to meet his gaze, his arms still attached to your waist, a comforting weight.
a grin blooms on your lips, a little teasing, and a flicker of mischief shines in your eyes. ”you were cute, you know.”
suguru blinks, before emitting a low chuckle. a raspy little thing. ”was i?” he drawls, as you brush his bangs away from his face. 
”mhm,” you chirp, eyes crinkled as they meet his own. you just can’t help but want to tease him, a little bit. just a smidge. ”kept going on and on about how much you love us.”
hands moving to cup his face, you squeeze his cheeks softly. and suguru lets you, too tired to resist, only giving you a lazy raise of his brow. there’s a sense of amusement in his eyes, and something in you knows he likes the attention. your teasing words buzz with endearment, akin to a purr. ”my sweet lil’ sugu.”
all he does is lean into your touch, allowing himself to melt into the tenderness of the physical contact. even as you pull at his cheek, earning you a very gentle pinch to your side. but he lets you have your fun. you’re warm, and sweet, and he’s so in love with you he’d probably let you tug his body around however you please.
still, your words leave him just slightly perplexed. he’s still smiling with half-lidded eyes when he asks you to elaborate, basking in the feeling of your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. ”us?”
your grin widens, by a tad, something deeply amused glimmering in the depths of your iris. ”yep,” you answer, popping the p. for some reason, suguru dreads the teasing edge to your voice. ”me, and shoko, and satoru.”
a moment passes. he stiffens, for a second or two, mind processing the words. then he groans, softly, squeezing his eyes shut.
it makes you laugh, soft and amused, and he can’t help but smile along. despite the dreadful realization you present him with. no wonder he was met with so many notifications when he tapped at the screen of his phone — he didn’t read through any of them, but now he’s apprehensive to do so at all. shoko and satoru can be so goddamn obnoxious when they feel as if they have blackmail on him.
he can see it now, in his mind’s eye; shoko nagging him to run her errands, satoru reminding him of his words every time they have a slight disagreement. 
(grab me a coffee. three shots of espresso, one cube of sugar. got it?)
slacker.
(we both know i’m right. don’t be so stubborn, suguru! it’s okay to be wrong sometimes.)
asshole.
(c’mon. you said you loved me, right?
so mean. and here i thought you loved me!)
idiots.
(he does love them. more than anything. even when they’re being absolutely insufferable.)
suguru just sighs, deep and fatigued, already anticipating his doom. ”they’re never gonna let me live it down, are they?”
a giggle slips from your lips, and his heart flutters helplessly. ”probably not. my condolences.”
another sigh. it only makes your smile widen. there’s something awfully delighted, in your eyes, as you cradle his face in your hands. ”well, i thought you were very sweet!”
”yeah, yeah…” he mutters, vaguely amused. placing one of his large palms over your hand, where it rests on his cheek. ”i won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”
a chuckles bubbles up from within your throat. ”aww,” you pout, giving way to a teasing grin. ”that’s a shame. i wanted to hear you talk about how much you love me again.”
suguru blinks. 
then he smiles. a very particular smile, characteristic, one you’ve come to associate solely with him. resting somewhere in the intersection between a soft grin and a teasing smirk. a flicker of mischief shines in his eyes, and you realize your mistake.
you can tease suguru all you want; but he'll always turn the tables on you, at the end of the day.
”oh?” he chuckles, fondly, thumb smoothing over the lines of your hand. his eyes gleam, looking straight into yours, shining with something mildly devilish. ”i don’t need to get drunk to tell you that, baby.”
in a smooth motion, one you can’t help but silently envy, suguru intertwines his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips. he never once breaks eye contact, gaze heavy as he basks in your flustered expression, planting a soft kiss against your knuckle. reverent.
”i love you. more than anything,” he purrs, lips still lingering on your skin. warm enough to burn. ”you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
a pause. heat crawls up your spine, and a flush rises to your cheeks. you couldn’t stop it if you tried.
”my everything,” he continues, intent on flustering you as much as humanly possible. voice low and smooth, honeyed and deep, and worst of all; terribly earnest. lips trailing over your knuckles, against every knot, so soft that you barely feel it. ”my entire world.”
”okay, okay!” you sputter, an embarrassed hue to your cheeks, your gaze landing on the windowpane to your right. his stare is just too heavy, too deeply in love. overwhelming. ”point taken. nevermind.”
suguru laughs, genuine and full. warm and amused, deep and real, and you catch yourself thinking that you don’t want to go a single day without hearing it. even if it’s at your own expense.
a coo rests on his the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back, opting to lean forward instead. he trails the pads of his fingers along your jaw, touch like a butterfly, lifting your chin up ever so slightly. then he closes the distance between you. 
in your throat, your breath hitches.
— but he doesn’t kiss you. suguru stops right in front of your lips, so close you can feel his breath on your skin, taking a moment to simply look into your eyes. and despite how flustered the close proximity makes you, you can’t bring yourself to look away. heart fluttering madly, a string of staccatos against your parted ribs.
a tilt of his head. amber eyes gleaming, crinkled and fond. ”can i kiss you, now?” he asks, grinning softly. hand smoothing down your hip, big and warm, teasing. ”i made sure to brush away all the alcohol. or do you still not want to?”
you pause. 
”hey, what happened to not remembering anything?” you pout, narrowing your eyes. the corner of suguru’s bottom lip twitches upwards.
but he only shrugs, feigning nonchalance, a playful glint in his eyes. ”guess i was just that disappointed.”
a giggle flows from your lips. he drinks it in, gazing at you with pure contentment.
”alright, alright... c’mere,” you coo, smile honeyed and sweet. tracing your fingertips along his jaw, brushing a silky strand of hair behind his ear. you take in the sight of him, meeting his lovesick gaze. he squeezes at your hips softly, a little impatient — so you finally lean in.
suguru’s lips are warm, when they meet yours. they taste like sunlight, devoid of any alcoholic flavour, just like he so kindly assured you of. and it’s a little amusing, the thought of him in front of the bathroom sink — desperately scrubbing his teeth, just to get his kissing privileges back. such a dork. 
he’s your dork, though.
suguru sighs into the kiss, smiling giddily, satisfied at last. a sound you can’t help but mirror. he deepens it, ever so slightly, fingers squeezing gently at the plush of your waist. a hum of approval buzzes in your throat, and his smile only grows.
when he pulls away, that smile is all you can see, along with the ever so slight flush to his cheeks. a hint of peach dusting his skin, framed by the sunrays caressing his jaw, highlighting his handsome features. breathtaking. 
before you have a chance to protest, he’s leaning in again, to press one more chaste kiss to your lips. your heartbeat picks up.
everything finally feels just right.
the warmth of the sizzling pan, the fragrance of freshly made coffee and now-burnt pancakes. the light of the morning sun, scattered across the open space of your apartment, splotches of life painting everything in a heavenly glow. the love in the air, all soft and light and comfortable.
domestic bliss. with suguru, who never seems to change, no matter how many years go by. if you could live in this moment for the rest of your life, forever and ever, you’re sure you’d die happy.
and wow, is that a heavy word. forever. 
(but suguru makes it feel so very, very light.)
forever feels a lot more real, like this. cradled in the midst of a drowsy morning, bumping elbows with the man you love most, after getting to take care of him in his most vulnerable state. accepting every part of him, and having him accept you just as fervently. 
just this moment alone is worth far more than you could ever comprehend. 
suguru, with his warm hands, his familiar embrace. your shared laughter, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen as you try in vain to save your scorched pancakes. and his smile, his fervent devotion, coaxing him into eating them even though they’re burnt at the edges and don’t taste even a quarter as good as his. because you made them, for him, and that makes them taste sweeter than anything.
you stare at him, from across the table, admiring the sight you’ve grown so used to; suguru, with his slightly tousled hair, mug in hand and smile painted on his handsome face. drowned in sunlight, pink petals flitting in through the opened window. you don’t want a single day to ever pass without you seeing this. what does that mean, exactly? you think you know. 
it means forever.
(forever, forever, forever. what a pretty word.)
marriage. you think of it, again, let it linger in the depths of your skull, bounce around until you grow just a little more used to it. and it’s a scary thought, for sure. a terrifying thought, even, something so foreign that it makes you nervous. but you truly wouldn’t mind doing this forever — not one bit. not if it’s with him.
and, unbeknownst to you, maybe that promise of forever isn’t all that far off.
maybe it’s only a couple rooms away, hidden within the depths of a certain drawer, until suguru finally gets the courage to bring it out. and maybe, just maybe — that day isn’t all that far off, either.
(suguru smiles at you, from across the table. he thinks you look ethereal, sipping from your morning coffee, blinking tiredly. so sweet and angelic.
all he can think of is forever.)
2K notes · View notes
doumadono · 9 months
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Warnings: smut w/o plot, cunningulus, f!reader, squirting, fingering, alcohol use, voyeurism Synopsis: after the war, you and Shigaraki spend time together while the rest of the League prepares for the final mission. Excessive drinking leads to a moment of intimacy between you and Shigaraki, with him tasting your cunt for the first time. Unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend Touya unexpectedly returns early and witnesses the scene A/N: this piece was commissioned on my Ko-fi page by my beloved @shonen-brainrot - I'm sharing this fic with her consent. Thank you for commissioning me, baby! I hope you enjoy it! Friendly reminder to everyone else: my writing commissions are open :)
MASTERLIST KO-FI COMISSIONS: OPEN
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You spent a mere three months as a member of the League of Villains, yet during that brief period, you actively contributed to planning the Paranormal Liberation War. Despite the apparent "loss," you understood that, among other things, you achieved a strategic victory. After exiting the stage with Tomura and his other allies, you needed to keep a low profile, and so you did. Leveraging your quirk, Speed Recovery, you became a highly valuable asset to Shigaraki, aiding in the recovery of his injured allies.
Amid this intense three months period, you cultivated an unexpected understanding with the most enigmatic figure in the organization — Dabi. Astonishingly, he turned out to be the long-lost son of the Number One hero, Endeavor. Before you fully grasped it, you found yourself low-key "dating" - an understated term for the intensity of the connection. It encompassed spending endless hours together, engaging in profound conversations, and gradually closing the physical distance between you two.
Yet, an undercurrent of unease lingered as you sensed Tomura's discontent. Was he possibly envious of someone as seemingly ordinary as yourself? The uncertainty hung in the air, casting a shadow over the dynamics within the group.
You devoted considerable time meticulously plotting the retribution, even as you witnessed Tomura's growing anger and frustration. Reassuring him, you affirmed the intricacy of his plans, confidently asserting that soon you would unveil a lesson for the heroes, showing them their rightful place.
After the devastating War, Tomura visibly bore the weight of stress, engrossed in devising his next set of plans.
One evening, while the others were away preparing for the final mission, you and Tomura remained at the hideout, sipping from a shared bottle of vodka. The conversation delved into the details of the plan and the sacrifices it would inevitably demand.
Tomura took a sip, his crimson eyes fixed on you. "This mission will change everything. Sacrifices are inevitable."
You nodded, the weight of the responsibility settling in. "Yeah, but it's necessary. For a better future."
He smirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "A better future, huh? How optimistic."
You chuckled, recognizing his penchant for cynicism. "Well, not everyone can be as optimistic as you, Tomura."
He leaned back, fingers tapping against the bottle. "Optimism won't save us. Practicality will."
You smirked, appreciating the contrast in your perspectives. "Practicality and a bit of optimism won't hurt."
Tomura scoffed, taking another sip. "You're incorrigible."
You raised an eyebrow. "Coming from you, that's a compliment."
He chuckled, the corners of his lips curling into a rare smile. "Maybe. But let's not get too sentimental. We have work to do."
As the night wore on, the shared bottle of vodka dwindled, leaving both you and Tomura with a growing sense of intoxication.
"Thanks for the refill," you slurred appreciatively, the alcohol already making its presence felt.
Tomura, seemingly affected by the spirits as well, mused, "Can't believe Dabi didn't teach you how to drink."
You chuckled, the room swaying slightly. "Guess he missed that lesson."
With a nonchalant shrug, Tomura rose, tossing the empty bottle effortlessly into the trash bin. He went to a nearby cabinet, retrieving another bottle of alcohol and two fresh glasses.
You protested, waving your hands, but he poured you another drink, raising an eyebrow. "How are things between you and our lovely Todoroki, by the way?"
The question struck a chord, and you frowned, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the sudden turn into personal territory. "Well, you know, complicated," you replied evasively, taking a sip to buy some time.
Tomura leaned back, swirling his drink, his gaze fixed on you. "Complicated, huh? Must be quite a story."
You sighed, the alcohol loosening your tongue. "Yeah, it is. But we manage."
He nodded, taking a thoughtful sip. "Managing is something, I guess."
You attempted to shift the conversation away from your relationship with Dabi, bringing up other topics, but Tomura proved relentless. With a cocky grin, he circled back to Dabi, probing for more details.
"Come on, spill it. I want to hear the juicy bits," he taunted, swirling his drink with an unsettling confidence.
Sighing, you relented a little. "It's not that interesting, Tomura. Just the usual ups and downs. Nothing to discuss."
He leaned in, a dark glint in his eyes. "Ups and downs, huh? Sounds like there's more to it."
You rolled your eyes, realizing that steering the conversation away from Dabi was an uphill battle. "Can we talk about something else, Tomura? There's a whole world out there."
He chuckled, his laughter carrying a sinister undertone. "The world can wait."
As the night wore on, Tomura's questions became more probing, his tone growing darker and more insistent. He seemed to revel in the discomfort he caused, savoring every tidbit you reluctantly shared about your tumultuous relationship. Tomura got up, the creaking floorboards announcing his movement as he paced around the room. He cast a sly glance in your direction, the dim light highlighting the eerie grin on his face. "You know," he began, still walking, "I always suspected there was more to Dabi. But Endeavor's son? Now, that's interesting."
You shifted uncomfortably, eyeing him as he continued to circle the room. "Yeah, surprising, right?"
He chuckled, a sinister edge to his voice. "Perfect, actually. Vengeance is a powerful motivator. It'll make him even more useful for our cause."
Tomura took a place beside you on a worn-out couch, his arm casually wrapping around your shoulders. He poured another drink, his dark eyes never leaving yours.
You gave a weak smile, feeling a little uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze. The tension heightened as his arm tightened around your shoulders, and he handed you the freshly poured drink.
"To unexpected alliances," he proposed, raising his glass.
You clinked yours against his, the liquid burning down your throat, the room spinning with a mix of alcohol and Tomura's ominous presence.
As Tomura poured another round, he seemed undeterred by the growing level of intoxication. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol.
In the midst of another casual conversation, Tomura, with an unsettling nonchalance, steered the dialogue back to Dabi. "Did he fuck you already?" he inquired abruptly, his tone cutting through the drunken haze that surrounded you.
Your cheeks flushed, and you visibly squirmed in discomfort at the unexpected and personal nature of the question. "It's none… None of your… Bussiness, Tomura," you hiccuped.
"Come on now, spill it. Did he or didn't he?" he pressed, a mocking grin playing on his lips.
You sighed, feeling the weight of the question. "Tomura, that's really none of your business…"
Tomura's grin widened, and he leaned back, seemingly pleased with your discomfort. "Sounds like a yes to me. Dabi's got taste, I'll give him that. Was he a gentleman, delicately tending to your needs, or more like a dog in heat, just claiming what's his?"
Your face burned hotter as you bit your lower lip, desperately downing the glass of vodka, and quickly covering your mouth after. "Something in between," you mumbled, your words slightly slurred.
Shigaraki chuckled darkly, throwing his head back. "Mmmm, I see. What a pity then. You deserve to be taken care of, baby. Such a little, pretty villain," he reached his gloved hand out and touched your cheek. The gloved touch sent shivers down your spine. "Did he eat your pussy?"
The nausea welled up inside you, and all you wanted was to escape to your tiny room and lie down. You nodded, managing a weak, "Yes," hoping it would satisfy Shigaraki and put an end to the uncomfortably intimate interrogation.
Tomura grinned, placing his glass on a tiny coffee table. He simply leaned in, crushing his lips onto yours without seeking your consent.
In your intoxicated state, attempts to push him away were feeble. His lips bore the flavor of vodka, but strangely, you found yourself not entirely opposed to the unexpected kiss. A part of you didn't mind what was happening at all, so you casually moved your lips against his in a dance influenced by the haze of alcohol.
Before you could fully comprehend the situation, his gloved hand, adorned with only two fingers covered by a black leather, slipped between your thighs and beneath the plain skirt you wore. His touch started at your thigh, skillfully massaging the soft flesh, while slowly ascending.
A gasp escaped your lips as a strange warmth began to build within your abdomen. You cursed yourself for reacting this way to your boss. You shouldn't be feeling like this; after all, you had a boyfriend. What would he think if he knew how Shigaraki's touch was affecting you? You blamed the intoxication for clouding your mind, and even if you desired to push Shigaraki away, you felt powerless; your hands seemed to weigh a ton.
Gloved fingers teased you through your panties, eliciting a gasp that escaped past your parted lips. You bit down on your lower lip, the sensations proving intoxicating, clouding the last remaining rationally-thinking parts of your brain.
As your head lolled back, resting against the back of the couch, Shigaraki licked the column of your neck. "Shhh, shhhh, it's okay. Ain't gonna hurt ya, sweetie. I just wanna make you feel good, like Dabi never did, I bet."
Shigaraki pushed the fabric of your panties aside, his touch careful as he rubbed against your folds, discovering they were already slick with your excitement. He grinned, licking his lips. "Look at you," he chuckled, hiccuping a little. "Mmm, already so wet for your boss. That's the attitude I like."
Shigaraki rose from the couch, a hiss escaping him as his pants grew uncomfortable, his dick tenting the fabric. He knelt down, parting your thighs, and took hold of the sides of your panties, skillfully tugging them down your legs until they were off completely. Bringing the garment to his nose, he sniffed it like a wild animal, licking the damp spot on the material and growling in anticipation. "Fuck," he muttered, his other hand palming himself through the fabric of his pants.
As the man licked a stripe along your slick folds, a loud whine escaped your lips, and you leaned back fully against the couch. Slowly, you brought your hand to your mouth, covering it as if to prevent all the moans from escaping. It felt so wrong, yet oh so right at the same time.
Shigaraki closed his lips around your clitoris, fervently sucking the swollen bud into his mouth. This left you writhing beneath him, moaning like a cheap whore you apparently were at that moment. His bare fingers, devoid of glove, expertly rubbed your entrance as Shigaraki continued to lap at your slick folds. The obscene noises he made filled the air, his head shaking left to right to increase the friction you sought with every roll of your hips, each movement trying to push your cunny further into his face.
"O-Oh, God…" you whimpered.
Shigaraki chuckled slightly before slipping his tongue into your entrance. It was the moment you arched your back, sliding one of your hands into his white hair, tugging it to bring his face and mouth closer to your heated core.
He skillfully fucked you with his tongue, his gloved fingers simultaneously massaging your clitoris, causing your wetness to spill all over his eager tongue. "Mhmmm," he grunted, still palming himself through his pants.
Lost in the throes of passion, neither of you heard the door opening. Little did you know that the rest of the League had returned to the hideout.
Dabi stood in the doorway leading to Shigaraki's office, his turquoise eyes wide open as he witnessed the scene unfolding before him — his boss, someone he had once considered a friend at some point, and his girl, getting laid.
Meanwhile, Shigaraki resumed lapping at your entrance, growling like an animal at your scent and taste. In contrast, you were already a moaning mess.
"I fucking love your little cunt," Shigaraki declared, kissing your swollen clitoris before returning to licking your dripping hole.
Dabi felt anger and jealousy building up within him, but he also sensed some primal desire. Casually closing the door, he walked over to the two of you, nonchalantly dipping down next to you on the couch. "Well, well, I see you two are having some fun, huh?" he growled.
It was then that you snapped your eyes open, instantly attempting to push Shigaraki off your pussy.
However, your boss simply looked at Dabi lazily, and after kissing your cunt, he straightened up, wiping his lips from your juices glistening there with the top of his palm. "Todoroki, you're back already."
Dabi scoffed. "What do you fucking think you're doing, Tomura?" Dabi growled, igniting a little blue flame on his left palm while his right one rested possessively on your knee.
"And what does it look like? I'm eating her cunny out," Shigaraki replied, a wry grin on his lips.
"She's fucking mine, and you're fucking aware of that," Dabi reminded.
Shigaraki chuckled darkly, waving his hand. "Oh, don't be such a dog in the manger. I didn't fuck her, yeah? Just licked her tiny cunt. That's not a fucking crime, is it?"
Dabi breathed angrily through his nose. "I can see you got fucking turned on just by her taste," he scoffed, glancing at the tent in Tomura's pants.
Shigaraki unselfconsciously palmed his dick, tilting his head to the side. "Can you blame me? Look at her, such a little naughty villainess we have here. And her taste is intoxicating."
Dabi scoffed again. "Imagine that I know, as I've fucked her many times already."
Tomura ran his bare fingers up and down your cunt. "Don't be angry at her, it's my fault. We got a little too wasted, and I kind of couldn't stop myself when I smelled her wetness," Shigaraki explained, pointing his chin at the coffee table and the empty bottle of alcohol and glasses.
Dabi shook his head in disapproval and reached his hand out, catching your chin between his index finger and thumb, tilting it so you faced him. "You're such a naughty whore, getting wet for him? Pathetic."
Your cheeks were still flushed. "S-sorry, Touya…" you whined pathetically.
Dabi looked into your half-opened eyes. He couldn't deny the twitch in his pants as he saw you so vulnerable and exposed. The idea of letting some other guy fuck you while he watched had always lingered in the dark corners of his twisted mind. Now, the opportunity presented itself. "You liked him licking your cunt, hmm?"
You bit at your knuckle, slowly nodding your head for yes.
Dabi sighed. "Fine. Make my girl cum," the scarred man ordered, looking at Shigaraki. "But don't you fucking dare to put your fucking, pathetic cock into her. That's exclusively mine privilege."
Shigaraki cocked his eyebrows, "Who do you think you are to boss me around, Dabi?"
Touya grinned nastily. "Seriously? Your cock already makes a damp spot in your pants, man. I know you want her. So give her what she wants. Make her fucking cum. Let her decide which one of us eats her pussy better. I'm sure she's gonna choose me."
"T-Touya, I.." you started, but your boyfriend placed his fingers on your lips, sealing them.
"Shut up and spread your legs wider like the good whore you are," he instructed.
You nodded hesitantly, following his words.
Shigaraki grunted, seeing your pussy spreading open just for him. He instantly dived between your legs, lapping at your folds again, making slurping noises and eating your cunt so intensely that the base of his nose nudged your swollen clitoris, making you whine.
Dabi watched the scene with a stoic expression attached to his scarred face. He reached one of his hands around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him so you rested your side against his chest. His other hand grabbed the hem of your skirt, hoisting it up your hips to provide himself with a better view of your drenched cunt and Shigaraki diving between your legs.
"You're such a needy whore," Dabi whispered into your ear, moving the arm he had wrapped around your shoulders to unbutton your shirt and fish out one of your breasts from the cup of your bra, fondling it gently. "So fucking wet. Look at the mess you made on this bastard's face."
You were whining, resting one elbow on Dabi's lap, moaning even louder as you felt his hardened cock making a bulge in his jeans.
Shigaraki slipped his gloved fingers into your cunt, massaging your inner walls.
Dabi grasped your chin and tilted your head, sloppily kissing your lips. Your tongues danced together.
Shigaraki spat down on your pussy, spreading his saliva all over your folds with his thumb. After that, he returned to sucking your clitoris while finger-fucking you.
You moaned in Dabi's mouth, breaking the kiss to bite your knuckle again as your thighs trembled after Tomura hit that super-sensitive, spongy spot deep within you. "Fuck…" you whispered, your eyes watering. "Holy shit."
Dabi chuckled darkly. "That's it, doll, let it go. Cum. I know you want to cum."
"Yes, d-daddy," you moaned and reached both hands to slip them in Tomura's messy hair, bringing his face closer to your dripping cunt to ride your orgasm all over his tongue and lips.
"Don't you fucking dare to stop licking her cunt. Stick your ugly tonuge out," Dabi instructed, and to his surprise, Shigaraki obeyed.
You grinded your pussy against you boss' flexed tongue, moaning louder and louder until your pussy clenched around his fingers, leaving you trembling all over your body, moaning and panting.
Of course, Dabi decided it was not enough, so he reached his hand down your body to gently rub your clitoris, only to spank it with his heated up fingers a few times.
You bucked your hips more until you squirted all over Shigaraki's face, moaning both their names as if it was the last prayer of your life; your runny juices covered your boss' chin, nose and lips, dripping down his cheek to his chest.
Shigaraki also panted and groaned, the damp stain on his crotch expanding, signaling he just came, too.
Dabi kissed your cheek, glancing down at Shigaraki. "Look at you, boss, getting so turned on by a mere woman. That's surprising," he rose from the couch, adjusting his hardened dick in his pants. "Now excuse me, I'm taking my girlfriend to my room so I can fuck her the way she likes the most," Todoroki easily scooped you up in his arms. "Oh, and thanks for preparing her for me. I appreciate that a lot."
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blackenedsnow · 12 days
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unwanted(ish) company
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WARNING: None
PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Reader
NOTE: New movie’s out! Really like how this turned out so I hope you enjoy!
SUMMARY: After foolishly summoning Beetlejuice, you're now stuck with the infamous ghost in your house. Good job!
PART 2: Here
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You really needed to stop messing around with things you didn’t understand. At the time, it had seemed harmless enough—a bit of fun, something to distract you from the dull routine of life. The "summon a spirit" kit you'd bought as a joke had done more than give you a good laugh.
Because now Beetlejuice, the "ghost with the most," had taken up residence in your house, and getting rid of him wasn’t as simple as you’d hoped… you didn’t have the heart to do it.
“So, babe, what’s on the agenda today?” Beetlejuice asked as he sprawled across your couch, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He was dressed in his usual black-and-white striped suit.
You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Same thing as every day: trying to keep you from fucking up my house.”
Beetlejuice let out a loud cackle, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “Oh, come on, where’s your sense of fun? You summoned me, so clearly, you wanted a little excitement in your life.” His grin was wide, sharp, and just a little unsettling.
Yeah, summoning him had definitely been a mistake.
To be fair, it had been an accident. You hadn’t really expected it to work. But one too many mispronounced “Betelgeuse”s later, and the next thing you knew, there was a strange man with wild hair and an even wilder personality wreaking havoc in your home.
And now, a month had gone by, and Beetlejuice was still here. You couldn’t bring yourself to banish him. Maybe it was because he hadn’t done anything too terrible. Annoying, yes. Gross, absolutely. But nothing truly malicious.
Or maybe it was because, in a twisted sort of way, you had grown used to his presence. The house felt less empty with him around, even if he was an obnoxious dead guy.
“Hey, Earth to you,” Beetlejuice snapped his fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to reality. “You daydreaming about me or what?”
“No,” you replied flatly, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck. “I was just thinking about how much better my life was before you.”
Beetlejuice clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch, babe, right in the ticker. You sure know how to hurt a guy.”
You rolled your eyes and stood up from the couch, heading toward the kitchen. Beetlejuice, of course, followed right behind you, his boots making a faint thud on the floor with each step.
“You know,” he started, leaning against the counter and watching as you grabbed a glass from the cupboard, “you haven’t actually asked me to leave. You’ve had, what, a month? All you gotta do is say the word a few times.”
You paused, fingers tightening around the glass. He was right. You could have banished him by now. But you hadn’t. You hadn’t even tried.
“Well, you haven’t exactly made it easy,” you muttered, filling the glass with water. “And you never give me any space.”
“Space? What do you need space for, babe? I’m the life of the afterlife. I keep things interesting.”
Beetlejuice grinned at you again, but there was something behind it this time, something less cocky and more curious. He was testing you, as if he was trying to figure out why you hadn’t sent him back to wherever it was ghosts like him came from.
You drank your water, your back turned to him, trying to ignore the way his presence seemed to fill the room. You weren’t sure how to explain it—to him, to yourself. Sure, he was obnoxious, loud, and a bit of a creep, but there was something about having him around that kept the loneliness at bay.
“Don’t you get bored?” you asked suddenly, setting the glass down and turning to face him. “Just hanging around here, doing nothing?”
Beetlejuice chuckled and shrugged, the movement casual. “Eh, beats being stuck in the Netherworld, dealing with bureaucrats and dead people whining about unfinished business. At least here, I’ve got you to keep me company.”
He leaned in a little, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Not to mention, you’re way easier on the eyes than the dead folk.”
You groaned. “God, you’re such a creep.”
“Hey, just calling it like I see it, toots.”
There it was again—that nickname he kept throwing around, as if he was trying to get under your skin. Normally, it worked, but tonight… you just didn’t have the energy to fight it.
You were tired. But at the same time, the idea of being alone again—completely alone—was even more exhausting.
“Alright, fine,” you said, folding your arms and leaning back against the counter. “If you’re gonna stick around, at least try not to destroy the place while I’m asleep. Deal?”
Beetlejuice raised an eyebrow, a slow grin creeping across his face. “Oh? You’re giving me permission to stay? That’s the first time I’ve heard you admit it.”
You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t say I wanted you here. I just said—”
“Relax, babe, I get it,” he interrupted, pushing off the counter and stepping closer to you. His voice dropped, that ever-present playful tone laced with something almost sincere. “You like having me around, don’tcha? Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
You looked up at him, trying to come up with a retort, but your words caught in your throat. There was something about the way he was looking at you—something less mocking, more… genuine?
“Don’t push it,” you muttered, though your heart wasn’t really in it.
Beetlejuice let out a soft chuckle and stepped back, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. No need to get all sentimental on me. But hey—if you ever want to, you know, really cut loose, you know where to find me.”
With that, he winked and disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving you standing there, your heart still racing for reasons you didn’t quite understand.
You sighed, rubbing your temples again. Maybe you were losing it. After all, who else would tolerate a dead guy like Beetlejuice hanging around in their house?
But as you headed back toward the living room, the empty silence that had once filled your home didn’t feel quite as oppressive anymore.
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eyeritestuff · 3 months
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Billy Kid x Reader Headcanons ☆
—X—
A/N: super into ZZZ right now (and billy.)
CW: nothing, maybe a few suggestive jokes but everything is generally SFW :3 i’m super sleepy and writing this at 1am so bare with me when it comes to spelling and grammar :’)
Reader: Gender Neutral [they/them]
—X—
Billy takes a lot of selfies, especially when on missions, and sends them to you. You don’t know what made him start doing this, but you save each and every one of them and you make sure to drop whatever you’re doing to ask him about it.
Billy is on the spectrum. Don’t ask me the logistics of it, yes he’s sophisticated AI, but hear me out! Though you like to indulge in some childhood nostalgia, you aren’t particularly fixated on watching just one media from your childhood. However, one of the medias you watched back in the day is called Starlight Knight. As soon as you told him you enjoyed that show, he would come to you to talk about it. It wasn’t all the time, of course, but whenever conservation went dry (in person or via DMs), he’d make it a thing to talk to you about it for hours. It didn’t annoy you, not in the slightest. It made you happy to see him so happy about the children’s show, and so you entertained it as much as you could.
When Billy texts, he uses old fashioned emoticons as punctuation. Think ‘ :3 , ^_^ , o_O ’ and then replace it everywhere a period, an exclamation point, or a question mark would be. So many emoticons…
Billy loves to play video games, especially at the arcade. He invites you, and usually you tag along. When you can’t, he sends a selfie of him making a sad face. He’d probably captions it something like ‘Missing my pookie.. 💔💔’
On that same note, Billy will pick up on vocabulary you use and steal it. So if you have a habit of saying ‘pookie’ ? That’s his now. He’s using it all the time.
Billy panics easy when it comes to you. not only when it comes to safety, but also when it comes to romantic scenarios. During times you hang out with Anby and Nicole, they spill all the details of how Billy went on a rampage to find the perfect flowers, or how Billy sat in a corner all morning whining about how he didn’t find the right color outfit for you. Things along those lines!
Sortve related, but Billy gets flustered easily. Especially when you make dirty jokes, most of which aren’t really directed at him. He doesn’t get the jokes at first, but when he does understand them, he reacts in such an over the top and dramatic manner. Flailing around, gasping really loud, whining, yknow the works! One time you made a joke about ‘whimpering audios’ and he didn’t understand it. For a while too! Once he asked enough people (Anby explained it to him), he went silent and locked himself in his room for a considerable amount of time. He wasn’t sad or anything, just… shocked.
Billy isn’t human, so he doesn’t necessarily get injured in the traditional sense. One time he came back from a commission with his arm all battered up. You never seen him so down in spirits! You were able to help him, luckily, because it was only one part on his arm that was damaged that really messed up the rest of it. You kissed his hand, and immediately after inspecting your handiwork, he stuck his hand out again. “I dunno.. my arm still feels wonky. How about another kiss for good measure?”
When you’re bored, you love to dress up as Billy. Well, you’re not really dressing like him, you’re just wearing his jacket. You also like to wear the jacket with certain outfits you think it would look best with. Since your boyfriend is so tall and broad in the arms, you mostly wore it as a shoulder drape in an odd anime fashion statement. Regardless, Billy loved to see you wear it.
Earlier I mentioned Billy loves to take selfies, but I forgot to mention how most of them include you, and despite having all of those selfies of himself, half of his camera roll is you. He likes to sneak pictures of you sometimes! It’s one of his more odder behaviors, but he takes such cinematic pictures of you, even when you’re wearing the worst outfits. You didn’t know how he did it, but it’s one of the things that made the random picture taking somewhat okay.
Billy loves hugs. Don’t ask me how it works in terms of comfort. I would assume it’s the equivalent of sleeping in a car. However, Billy does have plenty of plushies thanks to you, and you use those to your advantage… so it’s not all bad :)
You asked Billy to teach you how to sling guns, and the entire tutorial sesh was just him feeling every inch of your body, memorizing and admiring how you looked. He loved you. All of you! He thought he was being sneaky, but you knew (and secretly loved it too).
Billy loves to carry you on his back and walk around. All I’m saying is, he’s got handlebars on that jacket for a reason… this has to be one of them……
Billy loves stickers. Self Explanatory!
Billy loves giving you gifts. He puts your needs over his more than he should, but luckily you’re not in this relationship to take advantage of his immaturity and inexperience. You give back as much as you can.
Billy is clingy. Needed to type it out despite it being loud as hell in this list.
Billy cant cook. Not like he needs to anyways, but he wants to learn for you! So when you’re cooking, he watches close behind you and asks you every question he can think of.
Billy likes to ask why… a lot. It gets frustrating sometimes, but he genuinely wants to learn.
—X—
A/N: thx for reading! idk might make a part 2 i’m gonna go fall asleep now :3
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aventoru · 3 months
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when you take pictures in his phone
character(s) : sae, rin, kaiser
warning(s) : none
a/n : this is another repost from my old acc!!
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SAE ITOSHI
usually, sae itoshi would be pissed off if someone touched his posessions without his permission
but with you, it’s a different story
maybe it’s partially his fault for inviting you out for dinner after his practice session
he shouldn’t have asked you to come to along with him knowing full well you would get bored
but he did, and that’s how he ends up scrolling through his photo album, dozens of selfies of you fill the 3x3 layout
if it’s anyone else, sae will not hesitate to insult their…photography techniques and immediately delete the photos
but this is you, his long-time friend and maybe—sae wishes in his heart— something even more than that
he looks up at you with a deadpan expression, trying to formulate the words to tell you off, but he doesn’t have the spirit to do that
“y/n, what is this?” he starts
“well, y’know, i got bored so i decided to pass time by messing with your phone. i didn’t get the chance to delete the pics but you can delete them now,” you admit
sae feels his heart drop for making you feel guilty about something seemingly harmless. but to be fair, he has no rizz doesn’t know how to react to situations like these, you are simply too cute
from the look your face, sae knows you think he’s mad at you when in fact, it’s quite the opposite
he finds your pictures stunning. you are softly smiling in them, sometimes even winking playfully
the poses and hand gestures in the photos are iconic, although the 0.5x zooms are his favorites
he has to resist the urge to set one as his lockscreen (but sadly you two were only friends for now)
sae decides, that one day he would tell you his feelings but until then he’ll continue giving you…hints
“why would i delete those pics? you look cute,” he locks his phone and stuff it in his pocket
sae’s decision to keep the pics is final as he beckons you out of the facility and into his car
you follow along with a blushing face and a stuttering heart
and oh- is that a smile on his face?
RIN ITOSHI
rin is scowling when he catches you red-handed as you take selfies on his phone
in your defense, it’s a joke, and you are planning on deleting the pictures
you’re good friends with rin, and naturally, you assume it’s okay for you to do that. you do that to all your other friends all the time, so there shouldn’t be a problem with rin, right?
you’re midway through pressing the round button for another selfie when you feel a presence next to you
you don’t even need to turn your head to know who it is, considering rin’s black hair is in the frame of the camera
you hurriedly put down the phone and immediately start to select the previously taken photos with the intent of deleting them
“what are you doing?” he questions as he peers down at your administrations
you regret your previous actions, considering this is itoshin rin, the most blunt person you know.
perhaps he doesn’t find this as funny or casual as you think he will
“i’m deleting these photos, sorry for invading your privacy,” you unconsciously pouts and he notices it
“what? hey, no, don’t do that,” he snatches his phone away from your grip
“why not? you’re obviously upset,” you gesture towards the scowl on his face
“i’m not upset, i just have a resting bitch face,” he clarifies, not daring to look at your face.
“it’s just…if you do this again, i want to take pics with you, too.”
“oh,” you raised your eyebrows, dumbfounded
OH. MY. GOD. HE WANTS TO WHAT???
“so you wanna take pics with me, huh?” a smug expression appears on your face.
rin stares back unimpressed
“i’m deleting these pics,” he selects all the pictures threateningly
“no don’t!!!” it was your turn to stop him now
MICHAEL KAISER
kaiser loves to tease you at any chance he gets
so when he catches you taking selfies on his phone, he is ready to make an embarassment out of you
but considering he’s head over heels for you himself, he thinks maybe he won’t embarrass you too much and let you off the hook for once
and besides, you’re quite bold for taking the michael kaiser’s phone and filling it with pictures of yourself, if he isn’t intrigued by you before, he definitely is now
so when you hear kaiser’s laid back tone calliing for your attention, you immediately hide his phone away from view, hoping that you would be able to delete your pics in time
but kaiser is faster, and he easily snatches the phone away from your seemingly vice grip
“daring to take pictures of yourself on my phone, i see?” he smirks and you so desperately want to wipe it off his face
“just delete those pics then,” you retort back knowing full well you’re in the wrong
“i never said anything about not liking them,” he teases, handing the phone back to you
“since you wanna take pics so much, let’s take one together,” he continues after seeing the perplexed look on your face
your eyes widen but you obey nonetheless, extending your arm to capture both of you in the frame
meanwhile, kaiser takes this opportunity to make you more flustered than you already are
he gingerly wraps his arms around you waist and pulls you close and proceeds to hide his face in the crook of your neck
the only thing visible to the camera was his side profile and the cocky smirk that still adorns his face
the proximity made you nervous and you hope he doesn’t make out your quickened heartbeat
you could feel kaiser’s hot breath on your collarbones and since when did his cologne smell so good???
“are you gonna take the picture or not?” he speaks up, breaking your train of thought
“of course i am,” you clear your throat
you internally hold your breath as you snap a pic and try to detangle yourself from kaiser right after
“hey, where are you going? i never told you to take just one,” kaiser holds you back in place
the way he looks at you tells you everything you need to know : he’s already figured out your little crush on him, hasn’t he?
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floydira · 9 months
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₊˚﹒✶﹒trolls headcanons .ᐟ
brozone, creek & king trollex with a reader going through a breakdown, overthinking and panicking and how they deal with them.
note ; I somehow(?) accidentally deleted the person's ask for this. I don't remember exactly what they asked word for word. (I'm down on my knees apologizing to you rn, I'm so sorry anon 🙏) so hopefully based on my memory this is at least close to what you asked for. I also hope this headcanon is to your liking.
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☆★﹒🎧 ﹐BROZONE
John Dory
erm. well. let's just say when it comes to dealing with other people's emotions, he's not really the best guy to depend on...
BUT considering he spent years by himself (and rhonda) with no other socialization, plus leaving his brothers behind and coming back to them after awhile out of conscious but seeing them nowhere to be found, he definitely felt lonely and HAD his own breakdowns before.
so he'd understand how you're feeling, or at least try to understand.
when he first saw you breaking down, his first instinct was to ask you questions "why are you breaking down?" "did something happen?"
if he doesn't get a reply from you, he'll respect your boundaries and not ask any further questions. he'll just focus on comforting you in the present, awkwardly patting your back and giving you words of affirmation that he thinks would work. like those motivational phrases or quotes online, maybe even those ones that facebook moms use.
if you do give a reply, he'll sit down next to you and hear you out. sipping a drink and lending his ears for you to vent. he'll keep quiet (internally, he's restraining himself from outing his own opinions on whatever you vented to him about).
In summary, he's a listener. If you let him voice his own opinions, he'll tell you his thoughts and views. more often than not, if he does give advice, it's probably best you don't actually follow them. I feel like he's bad at giving advice...
at least, he's got the spirit!
Spruce/Bruce
this troll has a wife and kids. I'm sure he's knowledgeable in comforting someone when they are breaking down or overthinks a lot.
if you're overthinking, he'll support you and keep you company but he's also honest that helps you actually evaluate your overthinking thoughts and not stress too much about them.
once you come to him looking vulnerable, he'll immediately try to soothe you by rubbing your back gently. yk like those back rubs that puts babies to sleep? yeah, he'll do that.
while he rubs your back, he urges you to take a deep breath and let it all out. so you do. unknowingly you ranted and ranted, every little detail spoken word to word. he just has that affect on people.
lets you know that what you're going through is valid.
once you're all done, he'll give you advice to ease you or if you're not looking for advice, he'll just comfort you until you feel better.
Clay
he literally is in a sad book club, he'll have the knowledge about it and how to deal with it. except...he's slightly bad at executing it.
he'll snap you out of overthinking by yelling positive stuff to you, that are actually...effective???
if you rant to him, he'll listen to you attentively and pat your head afterwards. it's just something natural that he does, honestly head pats are soothing ok.
if you're okay with physical touch, he'll caress your face while giving you actually reassuring words. (LIKE. have you SEEN him literally pinching and squishing branch's face when he first met him after 20 years?!) of course, it's effective, combined with his already nice vibe (I feel like he naturally has a healing presence, he's just a sweet little boring cutie)
his method of comforting you naturally makes you feel better. he doesn't have to try hard because just watching his body language and mannerisms are dorky enough that it'll make you smile. he's unknowingly comforting in a silly dorky way. even with how badly he persists to be a very "serious" guy.
he'll definitely give you a big warm hug after everything.
Floyd
he's literally called the sensitive one. out of the brothers, he's definitely the one who understands you the most.
I don't think I even need to explain, you already know how perfect he is with dealing with stuff like that. like the time he talked to veneer about how his sister treats him and how he shouldn't let her be like that to him.
his face is full of worry if he sees you in a vulnerable state.
he literally gives the best hugs, it's canon, I know it's canon.
this emo mf knows exactly the right words to get you out of your vulnerable state for a while (bc the phrases he gives to others are probably what he wants to hear given to him).
he'll be really patient with you and help you with every step along the way even if you're having a hard time changing your bad traits.
he's also attentive at listening, he'll caress your hands with his thumb with a reassuring smile.
he'll be really sweet at tackling your situation and never makes you feel overwhelmed.
will cry with you tbh.
he's kind of helping himself when he helps you, because he's similar in a way.
Branch
branch was quite the panicker himself during the times when bergens ate trolls.
so he'd also know how to help you deal with it because he understands you.
he had to figure it out himself and was mostly alone to deal with his own vulnerability so he's happy to help you.
he'll look calm, composed and collected externally but even he, himself is slightly panicking on the inside. afraid that he'll let you down or he won't be of much help. don't worry though, he has it all put together after a bit.
If you're panicking, he'll help you focus, calm down and ease your hyperventilation.
"concentrate on your breathing, okay?"
once you've calmed down, he'll provide you with reassuring words.
he'll keep you company and stay with you until you feel composed enough to talk about it with him. he'll lend you an ear.
afterwards, he pats you on the shoulder and gives you advice that worked on him before.
━━━━━━━━━━
Creek
as bad as he is, he's literally the best when it comes to relaxation. he has that zen-like wisdom, so he'll calm you down and help you relax if you're panicking or overthinking too much.
just like floyd, he also knows exactly what to say to reassure or cheer someone up.
he'll give you a more positive outlook on whatever happened to you so that you don't overthink it.
tbh his voice itself is enough to calm you down.
he encourages different methods and ways(that he knows of) to you that could help.
King Trollex
this sweet goober offers you all his emotional support.
he feels upset, if you're upset. he's all frowny when he sees you vulnerable.
"can I give you a hug?" ofc he asks for consent.
will hug you tightly (he thinks hugs are a remedy for everything, besides music), quiet sobs are heard as his face is smooshed against your chest. just like bruce, he'll also rub your back soothingly while hugging you.
Intertwines both of your hands and encourages you to put your thoughts into words so that he knows what's going on that head of yours that's overthinking a lot of stuff.
keeps eye contact with you as you rant to him.
"you can get through this." he'll say with his cute smile.
the most he can provide is listening and comfort. he wishes he could help you more.
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tarotofhope · 17 days
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PAC : 𖤐 What is good about you? 𖤐
(Special reading for reaching 100 followers)
Thankyou everyone 🥹🫶🏻Please keep on supporting🤍
(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)
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Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.
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Pile 1
Cards: The Emperor, 5 of Swords and The Wheel Of Fortune.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 1. Your energy radiates with self-confidence and assertiveness. You are someone who does not let any kind of bs bother you. You're loud, full of energy and that looks charming to your admirers. You're someone who would build their empire with or without anybody's help. You seek adventure, and thrill and you don't like to get bored. You are a go-getter and you don't wait for somebody else to have your back, you do it yourself. You have good leadership qualities. You could kill for your independence and freedom. Sometimes you might come off as arrogant to people but you don't mean any harm to anybody. You might be funny and carefree, but people like your presence because they feel at ease with you. You light the room, pile 1.
Extra message: Your traits remind me of Eren Yeager from Attack on Titans/Shingeki No Kyojin. He will always 'Tatakae' for freedom.
This was all I got for you.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🫶🏼🥰🌸🌼🌻
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Pile 2
Cards: Death, Page of Wands and Queen of Pentacles.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 2. You're someone who doesn't let your fate strangle you when it is not in your favor. It's like looking in the face of death, bravely. The Page of Wands is standing with his back towards the death card but I don't see it as escapism but rather someone who already dealt with major transformations and problems but overcame it with your unbreakable spirit. Now, you stand tall and fearless with a passion for work and growth. You guys could be married to your work. You're someone who people admire for their maturity. You're very reliable and stable, structured and organized. People might come to you for advice too. Your determination is unshakeable. You look very earthy and grounded or very fiery and passionate or both. Doesn't matter whichever career field you're involved in, you mostly keep your personal life to yourself. You have a great desire to maintain stability for yourself and your loved ones.
Extra Message: Your traits remind me of Loid Forger from Spy Family and Nanami Kento from Jujutsu Kaisen.
This was all I got for you.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🫶🏼🌻🌼🌸🥰
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Pile 3
Cards: 9 of Wands, 2 of Wands, King of Wands.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 3. You're someone who was either bullied, taken advantage of or struggled very much earlier in your life. You thought you wouldn't overcome your problems but you were always more powerful than that. You developed from 9 of Wands to the King of Wands and it was indeed a long journey. You never give yourself enough credit for coming so far. You even lacked confidence earlier and had a low self-esteem but you've totally transformed yourself, your experiences made you this way. You speak more now, act more and you stand firmly for what you believe in. You do things you never thought you'd ever do. You are slowly coming more into light, you're more seen now. People who've been a witness to your journey either find your progress shocking or very inspirational and admirable.
Extra Message: Your traits remind me of Armin Arlert from Attack On Titans/Shingeki No Kyojin. His personality development was remarkable. Also, Ron Weasley from Harry Potter but in reference to the books and not the movies.
This was all I got for you.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🥰🌸🌼🌻🫶🏼
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Pile 4
Cards: King Of Cups, 4 Of Swords and The Star.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 4. You are a humanitarian. You love to help people and your personality could be very unique. Your career path as well, could be very different and unique which people don't go for normally. You might be secretive and mysterious and have very few close friends. You might love to do charity and donations, you might even work with an NGO. You love animals, you might be doing something for them. You are someone who's emotionally very mature and understanding of people's behavior and emotions. You have a good sense of self. You might be highly aware of yourself and sensitive to your surroundings. Your hunches are on point most of the time. You don't like conflicts. You may have a calm demeanor. You might be interested in occultism, wicca, witchcraft, healing, mysticism, astrology, reiki etc.. You could prefer spiritualism over religion. No matter how different, you don't change your beliefs to please the world. You could come off as naive and gullible but your inner spirit is very strong. It intimidates as well as intrigues people.
Extra Message: Your traits remind me of Michael Jackson- The King of Pop.
This was all I got for you.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🫶🏼🌻🌼🥰
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Pile 5
Cards: Justice, 10 of Swords and The King of Cups.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 5. You have a strong sense of justice. You are either this way by birth or you were not treated well/something bad happened to you in your childhood. You are not biased in your approach, you listen to all the parties involved before making any decision. Some of you could be lawyers or you study law, you could be police officers, or in the Army, navy, or air force. The card 10 of Swords is number 10 and it is the last number in minor arcana and Justice is 11, so, I believe you've come out of a difficult phase(10) and you're one step ahead of everything(11). You are quite the thinker. You weigh your words before speaking and you don't speak where it's not required but I'm also getting that either you talk too much or too less. Your speech might be entertaining or inspiring. You could also be good at voice dubbing or even singing. You also seem mentally mature and understanding. You might have a good sense of right and wrong. You might also be an avid reader. You look smart and clever, either street smart or book smart. You have a lot of knowledge about different things and you also love to share that knowledge. You're either very serious or fun to be around. Your intuition is on point. You love to fight or speak on behalf of other people especially those who can't do it for themselves.
Extra Message: Your traits remind me of L. Lawliet from Death Note.
This was all I got for you.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🥰🫶🏼🌼🌸🌻
Do watch the anime mentioned in the above piles if you haven't yet or you can also read the manga..🫶🏼🥰
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Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.
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theminecraftbee · 11 months
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Joe isn't looking at them, Cleo realizes. He's not looking at them, and not paying attention, which is concerning, since they're talking about Halloween decorations, and that's one of Joe's favorite things, and also about the bloody aftermath of the social game they'd just played, and that's another one of Joe's favorite things. But no--he's standing just outside of the Clocktower Village, and he's nodding along in the right places, but he's not looking at them.
They frown and tries to figure out where he's looking. His hands, mostly.
They stop talking. They take a breath. "Joe?"
"Yes, Cleo?" Joe says.
"You aren't paying attention," they say.
"I would never not pay attention to your wonderful words," Joe says.
"What were we talking about?"
"Well, blood and mayhem, mostly."
"...that's on me. I made that too easy," Cleo says. "But, Joe, if something's wrong, you can say so."
Joe is quiet.
"Or you can, like, not say anything?" they say. "I won't make you. Just, you also don't have to pretend to pay attention to me."
"Right, my bad. I'll pretend to ignore you instead."
"That's the spirit."
"Did you know I noticed the moon get big on Halloween?"
Cleo doesn't know how to respond, so they don't. They don't mean to look away from Joe, because that's rude, when he's saying something so important, but they do, a little bit, glancing up for a moment at the moon. It's large and nearly full, but there's a sliver waning away. The full moon, if they remember right, was a few days ago. They don't know why they felt like they needed to check.
"I noticed the moon get big on Halloween," Joe says again. "I mean, I didn't really. I just thought it was cool we had such a big full moon for Halloween. It made everything so much spookier, you know? It was only a little bit bigger, then. I didn't realize until later it had been getting bigger for--at least a week? Probably at least two? It grew so slowly then."
"I didn't know that," Cleo says.
"Well, I didn't say anything," Joe says. "I probably should have said something. I don't know. It's just--it's been two years now? It's been two years, and no one talks about it. I mean, sometimes in December, I guess, and at the start of the season we talked about it a little bit, but no one--I have a place in my base I'm already keeping everything important, and you and Cub have museums, and I keep on thinking that the museums are good, because if we were all gone tomorrow, and someone had to come pull something out of the rubble--is it stupid? Did it happen? Cleo, sometimes I feel like I'm crazy. No one talks about it. Maybe we shouldn't talk about it? Maybe it didn't matter? We're all fine now, we're all here, it didn't happen again, it's been two years since I had to miss you. And I love Halloween, and I noticed the moon get big on Halloween then, but it probably won't again, I mean, it was a freak thing, and, I just--does it even--did it matter, was it really bad, was it--"
He stops because Cleo's grabbed his hands, gently. They lower themselves down so they are looking Joe directly in the eyes.
"It was real. It mattered. It was bad," Cleo says.
Joe swallows and stares them in the eyes.
"I will never do that again," Cleo says.
"I won't make you promise that," Joe says. "I don't want to make you promise that."
"Okay. But it was bad. It mattered. It was bad," Cleo says.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
They stare at each other a little longer, and then slowly, Joe removes one of his hands from hers and looks back up at the sky.
"It's a waning gibbous," he says.
"That's what that's called?" Cleo says.
"Yeah," Joe says.
"Huh," Cleo says. "Sort of a boring name for a moon phase to have killed each other under, really."
Joe laughs. "You've got a point there. Not the most dramatic of moons, the waning gibbous."
"No, I can say that's not the most dramatic of moons at all," Cleo agrees, and then they are both silent for some time as they continue walking back towards Hermitcraft proper.
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ozzgin · 3 months
Note
May I ask, what are each of the yokai harems love languages?
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Featuring the six demons and their ways of showing love! Content: gender neutral reader, fluff
[Main Story] | [Character Guide] | [More Headcanons]
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Murasaki will mostly show his love through acts of service. He may seem standoffish and cold, but he will always take care of you. If you get sick, he’ll huff and puff about humans being weak and pathetic, all while spoon feeding you some intricate soup he carefully cooked for hours to make sure you get back on your feet; then he'll adjust your pillow with a frustrated sigh, and occasionally check that you’re properly tucked in (with a frown).
In return, I think he’d greatly appreciate words of affirmation. He’d never show it, but he will absolutely blush to himself hours later because you brought up how helpful or smart he is. W-well, obviously. Who else is going to look after you as well as him? Hmph.
Kiritsubo is all about physical touch. He loves feeling your warmth and hearing your heartbeat, to the point you sometimes have to physically remove him off of you. Forget asking for a jacket if it’s cold, he’ll just attach himself to you.
Besides returning his affections, he will absolutely adore the occasional praise. Watch him power up in real time just because you told him he’s doing a good job. He’ll turn to you in the middle of the fight just to ask, “did you really mean it?”, and then continue slaying his foes with a goofy smile on his face. You really did mean it, huh.
Suma enjoys hanging out with you. In fact, it's the highlight of his day. There's nothing better than returning from his training and seeing your little human face. Even better if you happened to join him for a quick practice. Additionally, he's a very touchy demon, but he is painfully aware of the colossal difference in strength and size. Just one brief moment of him getting too comfortable, and you may end up with a broken bone. Sorry, he was really looking forward to that hug.
Unlike the other yokai, Suma doesn't care much for praise. On the other hand, he'll be extremely grateful if you're the one initiating intimacy. This way he doesn't have to worry about accidentally hurting you, and - something he'd never openly admit - he finds your struggles quite endearing. Having to stand on your toes to reach for a mere hug, holding his finger with your entire hand...precious.
Yuugiri has two ways of showing he cares: physical touch and words of affirmation. He's painfully observant and thus particularly skilled at saying the right thing. If you're having a bad day, he will immediately know the cause of your troubles. Within moments, he'll have you on his lap, stroking your hair and soothing you with compliments. "Of course I'm right, (Y/N). No one knows you better than me."
When it comes to himself - you guessed it - Yuugiri will never say no to some praise. Normally he's rather indifferent to sweet words, finding them plain and boring. Anyone else complimenting his looks in ample detail, and he'll grimace in irritation. But it's enough for you to casually remark his kimono has a nice pattern, and he'll be twirling his hair like a maiden all day long. "My, you think so? Maybe I should wear this style more often, huh?"
Sekiya does his best to be useful: bringing you a cup of tea after a long day of exorcising spirits, or massaging your shoulders to release some tension. You sometimes have to remind the anxious demon that he doesn't need to be a servant to earn your affections. Ideally, there would be a lot of physical touch involved, but he often hesitates, clouded by the fear of annoying you too much.
Therefore, any kind of intimate gesture is enough to get his tail wagging. Pair it up with a little praise, and he'll be dizzy with delight. Sekiya loves being acknowledged by you. He'd probably risk his life in a heartbeat just for a headpat from his one and only Master. The poor yokai worships the ground you walk on.
Sakaki loves spending quality time with you, especially if it’s away from everyone else. Whether you’re painting together, or taking a quiet stroll through some graveyard, know he will be having a blast - despite his gloomy expression. Additionally, he enjoys bringing you little gifts that remind him of you. Although his tokens of adoration can be a little…unconventional. Last time it was a polished rodent skull he found in the forest, because it reminded him of your fragile, yet eternal bond.
One quick way to soften him up is by praising his art and poetry; he will immediately crumble into theatrical confessions, declaring that no one else truly understands him like you do. You're his forever muse, his reason to await the next coming day.
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colourstreakgryffin · 7 months
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Hii could I request Alastor x fem(or gn if you don't write fem)reader who is part of vees?? Like imagine meeting where velvet and Carmilla got into fight so can you do that but with reader and maybe like after meeting how it looked?
Hehe! I write female and how ironic is that, whilst I love Hazbin Hotel, I haven’t gotten the chance to watch the show since I am motherless broke and waiting for all of it to go onto YouTube so I am gonna have to guess this shit! Once again… kinda short, sorry!
Alastor- Little Mistake
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Alastor has always thoroughly disliked the Vs of the Overlords. Vox is obnoxious and egoistical, Valentino is sensual and annoying, Velvette is bratty and loud. But you… you’re not that bad. You’re the only V that doesn’t get under his skin and he does find you interesting so, throughout most Overlord meetings, he always sideyes you whilst you’re besides Velvette to see how you’ll respond to Carmilla
And respond to Carmilla you did. Making it a big song and dance that you don’t need to respect a fellow Overlord. Overlords barely respect one another so you don’t feel obligated in the slightest to respect her, which caused much friction throughout the other Overlords and deemed the meeting over
Alastor was amused by all of it. You’re much more calm, level-headed, less loud and sophisticated as compared to your fellow Vs and you’ve proven to Alastor that you do have quite the rebellious spirit and are determined to stick to your beliefs
He is impressed. He likes that
You just made a boring, insignificant meeting about ten thousand times better by beginning to argue with Carmilla over her statements and choices, and now, Alastor is hookline sinker for what is about to happen
Alastor may or may not rub you embarrassing yourself in front of your Vs and the Overlords in your face after everybody exits the meeting room and he tracks you down effortlessly, mainly thanks to his incredible shadow magic
Everybody else is so tense and avoiding you, cringing out of their skin at your lashout to their head… except the Vs, who are cheering your stand-up on whilst Alastor is already parting from the group to speak to you about what he wants to speak about
Those piercing crimson red eyes basically glare into your soul as he proclaims with a smirk. He expresses that he doesn’t hate you like he hates your fellow Vs
“I thought you were a good girl~ that wasn’t how good girls behave, my dear”
You don’t even want to hear it from him so you already attempt to regroup with the Vs(who are all proud of you, may I say) but Alastor has other plans and he doesn’t plan for this conversation to be cut so short so rudely, so he steals away you and your time. Is he in love with you? Well, he definitely likes you more than he’ll ever admit
“Oh. You’re so inconsiderate, darling. I was speaking to you and you just turned your back. That is not ladylike at all, don’t you want to give me, at least, a smile~?”
Needless to say, Alastor did indeed both find your butting heads with Carmilla Carmine very amusing, very interesting, very fun to poke fun at and especially… quite attractive— oh god. Did he actually think that? He did. He cannot believe how quickly a simple Overlord like yourself, a member of the Vs, have managed to make him smitten in any fashion
Alastor will make his amusement over your fight with Carmilla obvious, he presses you against the wall and speaks with the radio effects on full blast to make sure you pay attention and whilst he’ll shut out your fellow Vs, he’ll make you look at him and acknowledge him
Alastor teases you nonstop through the maybe 20-30 minutes he took talking to you about the incident in that big room. He openly expresses how much he enjoyed a good girl like you going bad but he hopes you stay obedient when you come to the Hotel. You don’t know what he is blabbering on about, though, Alastor knows you’re too good for the Vs and you’ll come to get redeemed any day now
And when that day comes, he will happy rub it more into your face. Maybe, give that face a bit of a kiss before sending you off
“Ah. Ah~ it’s not creepy, it’s acknowledgment. Creepy would be me following you around all the time. I was merely entranced by your behaviours and may I say, you’re better than those mindless idiotic Overlords you associate yourself with”
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phoenixblaze1412 · 4 months
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Could I request reader who is like huo huo from honkai star rail except the fear is of Dottore ^^
I apologise that this one took so long cause I had to learn about HuoHuo and even do the quests about her and I love it!
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It was Pantalone who hired you. You were but a scared little foxian priestess that got lost in Inazuma in which the Regrator has found you during his mission and decided to take you back with him.
It took him months to get you to open up to him without having to be frightened about him or his status as a harbinger. He had shown you that he bore no ill-intent nor will he ever harm you.
So with time, came trust. You told him about your past and the Regrator offered you a more high-paying job to be his personal assistant.
Of course he knew about Mr. Tails, he doesn't mind how the spirit would be sarcastic or somewhat rude towards him. He's already used to it.
He would be dragging you along with him to every meeting. Protest or decline his offer all you want but he would keep a firm grip on you as you are forced to come out of your shy and introverted shell. Extrovert adopting an introvert dynamic.
Regrator would always show you off to his fellow harbingers. Even though said harbingers would always be complaining on why he would even keep you when you're just a coward. Pantalone was quick to argue that you are a hardworking and it would be such a waste to just let you die in the forest back then.
Capitano and Columbina adored you due to your foxian features. Childe liked talking to Mr. Tails and sometimes have some playful arguments with him. Those three harbingers you were comfortable to speak without stuttering but there's another harbinger who just makes you want to run away: Dottore.
You don't know why but seeing him everytime makes you want to dig a hole and bury yourself in it. He just has the vibe of something sinister and horrendous. You would always tell the Regrator about it but he would only jest about how you would be overthinking about it and to simply treat him as your superior since he is, after all, the second harbinger.
"Why do I have to go in the laboratory.. can't Lord Regrator just order someone else to do this.."
You cried out as you held the document to your chest, slowly walking along the quiet hallways down to Dottore's laboratory. You were about to knock on the door only to hear the sounds of someone screaming in anguish.
"....maybe no one is inside. I'll just deliver this another day-!"
You turned and were about to run back only to be stopped by Tails as he pushed you back to the door.
"Quit yapping already and just give the documents! We don't have all day to your complains. Best to get the job done and be over with it!"
"But I don't wanna! It's scary! Didn't you even hear that scream? Lord Dottore is probably torturing someone!"
"The only someone who's about to get tortured is you! If you don't deliver those stupid papers, I'm going to torture you instead!"
"You're so mean!"
You whined as you looked back to the door before taking a deep breath and knocked. You shakily opened the door and peeked inside only to see the entire room pitch black. You wanted to lay on the floor and cry so badly but tails was quick to keep pushing you inside, only for you to trip and scatter the documents Pantalone instructed you to hand over to Dottore.
"Mr. Tails I can't find the other papers! Lord Regrator is going to be upset at me and fire me! Wait.. this could be a great idea. If I'm fired then I don't have to face any of these scary stuff or see Lord Dottore anymore! I should start writing my resignation letter."
"Oh? You do not wish to see me anymore?"
The light of the room was turned on as you turned to face the doctor himself. You could only sit up at the floor as you watched him walk over to you. Tears already forming at the corner of your eyes as you crawled back, hoping to get a good distance from him. You couldn't even see his eyes. The only thing you could look at was his bird-like mask which makes it more horrifying.
"N-no I didn't mean it like that, sir.."
"Sweet little (Y/n).. you know I have very unique observation skills. From the first time we met, you were always quick to hide behind your master. So easily frightened like a small prey. You should know I felt a bit hurt to see you run away when I simply wanted to have a little chat..."
"I'm sorry... please don't kill me-!"
You were already on your feet as you ran towards another door behind you, screaming like a headless chicken. You ran and turned around a corner only to bump into a hard chest. You glanced up only to see Dottore smiling down at you as he grabbed your arm.
You shrieked in fear, not knowing how he was fast at catching up with you but you were definitely sure you were ahead of him. You let out a cry as you waved your arms around to squirm out of his grip, only to smack the mask off his face instead.
"Oh my goodness- I'm so sorry! Wah!"
You screamed in fright at what you saw. What you thought you were looking at were the eyes of harbinger was nothing but circuits and wires with a red diamond in the middle staring back at you. You quickly pushed him away and skedaddled away, not wanting to be in the laboratory anymore.
"Mr. Tails please help me! I don't want to die! Why are you not helping me?! I need you!"
You tripped on air as you skidded and fell to the floor. You cried as you glanced at Tails only to see him still stuck to you and not even bothering to help you out. You sat up and hugged your knees to your chest as you let out quiet sobs. Already thinking of the worse, you closed your eyes and waited for the doctor to torture you as well like what he does to his experiments.
You let out a squeak when you heard the sounds of heels clicking against the floor coming towards where you are. You glanced up and stared horrifed as you saw not only one but two Dottores walking up to you. One still has the mask on his face and the other one was who you accidentally smacked the mask away from.
"P-please don't kill me! I'll be good! I'll do anything just please don't hurt me!"
The Dottore with the mask was quick to shush your cries as he picked you up bridal style before walking back to his office.
"Not to worry, little one. I hold no malicious intent towards you nor will I harm you out of boredom. You being in this area of the laboratory, especially near the cells will surely lead you to your death if you keep running around. Although I do enjoy a little chase with you, we'll put that on hold for now. Omega, make sure you lock the area here."
"Very well, sir."
You were shaking the rest of the way back, sniffles and hiccups can be heard from you as you clung to Dottore's clothes. Your heart and mind still in shock from everything that has happened.
Dottore placed you on the couch in his office as he looked over you to make sure you didn't end up having any injuries from your little run. He held your chin between his fingers as he tilted your face from side to side, observing your features up close with a grin.
"...please don't experiment on me.. I'll do anything..."
"Silly fox, I just stated that I won't bring any harm to you. But if you're offering to do anything, then who am I to waste an opportunity?"
Your ears flattened against your head, tears rolling down your cheeks to which Dottore wiped them off with his thumbs as he lightly coo'ed and grabbed your hand. Oh, he definitely loved seeing how frightened you get so easily because of him. He wants to see it more. Something dangerous bubbling up from within him as he grinned at you, his grip on your hand tightening a bit which made you winced but he didn't even bother to notice.
"You said you'll do anything, yes? Then be mine. Work under me from now on. I'll handle Pantalone. Just stay here with me instead, hm?"
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Ohhh boy wow. Just saw Challengers and my God my bisexual brain was firing all signals. Like within the first five minutes I realised 2 things about this movie. 1 it understands that tennis is a truly boring sport and instead makes it an incredibly sweaty, sexy, compelling game to watch. 2 this movie is bi as all hell and equally in love with all 3 of these people (as was I by the end of the movie).
SPOILERS:
God I was enraptured I think this films pretty subjective and can be seen in a few different ways but I just saw it as 3 people who think their playing the same game but none of them really are. Zendayas playing to win at Tennis, when she can't do it herself she plays through her husband. Art is playing to win the woman he thinks he loves and needs.
And Patrick is the most interesting of all, is he playing because unlike those two he actually needs to out of monetary needs? Maybe but doubt it. Is he playing to win Zendaya? And willing to be her champion unlike Art? Possibly but honestly I think it's the third option. He's playing to get back Art, Art is always a presense in their relationship and he puts him before himself. For sure the unusual sexual history between them is there. The strong friendship turned rivalry. The sheer sexual tension (Goddamn that churro!!) But oddly enough for the guy who may seem like the disloyal asshole type of the three he is both the most honest and oddly loyal. He may sleep with Zendaya but the second she asks him to throw the match? He's furious, he's insulted and refuses. But NOT for himself but for Art. His first words are "How could you do that to Art?" To cheapen his victory, if he were to know would crush Art. Art is always at the tip of his tounge and whats happening.
When they start making out in the dorm Zendaya won't stop talking about tennis but equally whats Patrick talking about? Art. When he finds out Arts not just interested in Zendaya but is acting snakey he's proud.
And god that sauna scene?? (I mean yeah its hot but I mean the dialouge!) He asks Art if he'd miss it and he completely doesn't understand what he's really asking. He once again is talking to somone who thinks their talking about tennis but he's talking about anything but.
I knew that bloody signal was gonna come back and when they had sex in the car I was like "okay this is it, he's gonna tell Art" but the question was.. will it be to hinder him? Make him lose his cool so he loses the game..? OR will he do it to truly spur Art into a game changing rage and unlock his fighting spirit? And as the scene unfolded I belived it was the latter. And it was NOT for Zendaya because he could've easily thrown the match like she said but NO he wanted Art to win fair and square. He wanted to help him do that.
That wordless communication they share? That Zendayas just sat on the outside of not undertanding but worried? Golden. The brutal match and then that gorgeous smile. When I think Art realises what his friend has done and really why he did it. And Patricks, the sheer joy of seeing Art smile at him again. That beautiful, fly through the air and that throw of his own racket down so he can catch Art as he gloriously wins the match. Because tennis was never really what mattered to Patrick, and neither was it really to Art. And despite it being Arts victory they've really both won.
And Zendayas roar of victory from the crowd to me was almost funny. Because she won too. Her husband, her extension of her own career and self won his match with his challenge. His/her past. She also sees it as a victory even though I really won't be suprised if it's lost her both her husband and her back up career/boyfriend. And maybe she won't mind that so much because she got what she wanted. Because she was playing a different game.
Also banging soundtrack, loved it. Also this is just my view of the film and it really can be read multiple ways I'm sure, would love to hear other peoples ideas on it! What can I say I just love some bi emotional drama!
Also Im seeing it again friday so any incorrect quotes, extra thoughts or such I'll probs fix then haha
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wynnyfryd · 6 months
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Trailer park Steve AU part 60
part 1 | part 59 | ao3
cw: reference to canonical minor character death
Max slams the phone down, knocking her forehead against the wall. Sixteen calls in a row and still no answer. “I give up,” she sighs. “You should just go.” “Seriously?” Steve protests. “And just leave you here? Alone? After—?” After all that? He throws his hands out like an umpire calling a safe. “No. No way.” “Look, my mom will be home soon, you can’t—” “—I’m not letting you get hurt—!” “—What are you gonna do? Fight my nightmares for me?”
“Maybe I will,” Steve mutters under his breath, pissed off and replaying the conversation on repeat while he gets ready. Feels like a psycho for doing it; feels certifiably unhinged just going about his evening after everything that happened, putting on a clean shirt and choking himself in a cloud of Farrah Fawcett spray so he can go pick up the sweet-but-stupid girl named Brenda he promised to take to the game tonight; so he can go cheer in the bleachers like he didn’t almost die.
(Or like, very vividly hallucinate his own death, which... Yeah. Doesn’t feel any less horrific.)
But whatever. Max is right. Without El, there’s really nothing to do but wait. Hop’s dead, Bob’s dead, Joyce is thirty hours away. Owens is off the table, too. What’s Steve gonna do? Call the government and tell them to come nuke the boogeyman? He doesn’t have any proof. 
He also doesn’t want to freak Dustin or any of the other kids out without knowing for sure what’s going on and what, if anything, can be done about it, so...
Fuck.
Fuck!
He gets dressed; he goes out. Picks up Brenda and does his best to be nice to her even though she gets on his nerves the moment she gets into his car, and he buys them sodas at the gas station and doesn't say a word when she spills Sprite down the side of his passenger seat.
The school is packed when they show up — the crowd in high spirits, the marching band leading chants. Nancy's reporting from the sidelines, Lucas is laughing with his teammates on the bench, and Steve leads Brenda toward the bleachers and does his best not to think. Not about the graveyard, not Max, not the looming threat of cosmic terrors. Not about the fact that Eddie is somewhere in this building, probably looking all hot and menacing while he leads tonight's campaign. Probably perched on a prop throne drinking Mountain Dew from a painted chalice like a fucking dork; probably making it look sexy, anyway. Tight jeans, legs spread, an air of casual command…
Steve could go find him. He could make everyone else leave; he could get on his knees and crawl between Eddie's legs—
"Does it bother you that we might win the championship, like, right after you graduated?"
Reality comes back like a slap in the face. "Yeah, that's an excellent question, Brenda, thank you so much for bringing that up."
They get settled into their seats, and Steve wishes he were more excited when the ref throws the jump ball, but he mostly just wants to go home. ("You always want to go home," the Robin in his head reminds him, and the Robin in real life throws him a weird look when she catches him snorting to himself about it.) He's just tired. Worn down in his bones, hollowed where he thinks his marrow should be, and he's clinging to normalcy with a sort of sweaty desperation that he’s pretty sure Brenda can smell on him because the date just sucks; it’s so bland, so mutually boring and bored. He spends most of the night mouthing stupid shit at Robin or keeping a sharp eye on the court — anything to ignore his proximity to Eddie; anything to drown out his messed-up head and heart. 
When the game finally ends Brenda gets a ride to a party with some friends. Steve goes back to Dustin’s place and paces a hole into the carpet. Stays up until 3 A.M., humming a Fleetwood Mac song.
In the morning, he tells himself as he drifts into fitful sleep. 
In the morning it’ll be fine. 
In the morning Max will come by the store like she promised, and they’ll keep trying until they get ahold of El, or Owens, or someone, and that someone will know what to do and how to help.
In the morning the TV tells him there’s a dead girl in his house.
part 61
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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a-killer-obsession · 12 days
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Pirate's Pet [Wire x Reader]
Pirates come to your town, and one decides you look too nice to leave behind.
CW: NON-CON, yandere!Wire, chubby afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, kidnapping, bondage, breeding kink, forced pregnancy, use of ‘daddy’, panty kink, slapping, spitting, oral (reader receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, forced orgasms, forced creampie, Stockholm syndrome, golden birdcage
WC: 2.6k
Masterlist || A03
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You should have known better when the bell to indicate incoming pirates rang out over your small town. With no marines close enough to defend it, your town was at their mercy whenever pirates landed, and the bell was supposed to be the call to evacuate to the woods. You, stupidly, hadn't done so. You hated having to go to the woods, often having to stay there for hours, sometimes even days, until the all clear was given. Cold, wet, uncomfortable, getting pickled by sticks and small sharp stones whenever you tried to sit down. You thought that maybe this time you could just hide in the comfort of your home, instead of braving the heavy weather that had forced the pirates to dock in the first place. Big fucking mistake.
The pirates had broken down your door to search for goods, and when a tall man wielding a trident pulled you from under your bed and held you upside-down by your ankle, you knew you'd fucked up. He looked at you like a piece of meat, throwing you on the bed, ripping your blouse open to expose your bra, gagging you with strips he tore from your clothes, and throwing you over his shoulder like a slaughtered pig. Your relentless kicking and punching barely phased him, you may as well have been a fruit fly as he carried you back to the imposing ship he called home. You recognised his captain as Eustass Kid of the worst generation as the tall man carried you up the gangplank, the redhead merely laughing in amusement as you passed.
“Found yourself a toy, ey Wire?” Eustass laughed, “maybe this one will last a little longer.”
“Nice wide hips,” Wire reported, like he'd found a good sale at the market, and spanking your ass hard, “might be worth trying to get this one knocked up, she's got a good build for carrying a baby.” You screamed around your gag at the implication, Wire undeterred as you tried to fight your way off his shoulder.
“Aye, nice fat ass too,” another man, with pale blue dreadlocks and thorn like tattoos commented, “send her my way if you get bored aye?”
“Get your own, Heat,” Wire growled, carrying you up two sets of external stairs and through the door to the stern castle. He carried you through the short hall to his room, where he dumped you on his bed unceremoniously. Before you could scurry away he was grabbing your wrist and dragging it to the edge, where he cuffed it to a chain attached to a strong bracket on the wall. Before you had a chance to protest, he grabbed the other wrist and did the same with the opposite side, leaving you on your back in the middle of the bed, your arms spread out. It was clear he was set up for this, he'd obviously been planning to take a prisoner, and you'd been the only dumb bitch stupid enough to get caught. You kicked your legs at him, catching his face before he pinned your ankles against the mattress with his large hands.
“Do I have to chain your legs too,” Wire said flatly, removing your gag so you could answer him, “or are you going to behave?”
“BITE ME!” you shouted, spitting in his face.
“I will, later,” he purred as he wiped the glob of saliva from his face, “unfortunately I have shit to do before we can play, so you need to stay here and be a good girl.”
“Don't fucking touch me!” You screamed, trying to kick him again until he gave an exasperated sigh and chained you ankles as well, leaving you spread like a starfish. You tried to bite him as he pushed the gag back into your mouth, which earned you a hard slap that made your eyes water and quickly broke your spirit.
“You'll see soon that you belong here,” he cooed, running his hand down your front and breezing it over your breast, “perfect little thing, Daddy is gonna take such good care of you, and you're gonna look so pretty with my baby in you. Be good now sweetheart, or I'll have to skip bringing you dinner tonight, and we can't have that, can we? Gotta keep you nice and chubby so you're in good condition to grow my baby.”
You tried to scream but it was muffled by the gag, as Wire bent down and pressed kisses all over your face and down your neck, finishing at your breasts before he sighed contently and stood. “I'll see you in a few hours, then we're gonna have such fun,” he smiled before leaving you alone in the room, hearing the lock click into place as the door shut behind him. You fought against the restraints, testing for weaknesses, and when you found none there was nothing left to do but sob, hyperventilating as the gag made it hard to breathe until you ran out of air and passed out, your hindbrain taking over breathing for you now that you weren't awake and panicking.
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You wake up to the sound of tearing fabric and a cold blade pressing against your skin as Wire cut and tore away your clothes, stripping you entirely until you had nothing but your panties on. He didn't want to waste your pretty lace panties yet, he could have a little fun with them before he tore them off too. “You're so beautiful,” Wire cooed as he pressed his thumb against your cunt to push the fabric between your folds, admiring how fat your labia were. He liked a girl with a bit of softness to her, what was the point of a girl if she wasn't lovely and soft and squishy? “I knew as soon as I saw you that you belong with me,” he smiled cruelly, “daddy's gonna make you feel so good. Such a lucky girl, you don't have to worry about anything anymore. No job or chores or other pirates, just gotta focus on getting nice and bred.”
You shook your head frantically, and he pinched your face hard in his hand, squishing your cheeks and making your lips purse. “No need to be shy about it,” he growled, “you belong here, you belong to me, you're not going anywhere so you can get rid of any silly notions of escaping. There's nowhere to go, we're out at sea and your town is nothing but ash.”
You whimpered as tears welled in your eyes, and Wire made soft shushes as he wiped the tears that escaped. “Shhh, shhh, daddy's got you now,” he cooed, “you're gonna be such a good mama, I know it.”
Wire settled himself to kneel between your legs, palming himself through his leather shorts, a noticeably large tent making your eyes widen. He unbuckled his pants and pulled out his long, thick cock, and you whimpered at the size. Wire noticed your fear and rubbed the head of his cock against your panty covered core. “Shhhh, don't worry mama, gonna be real gentle with you,” he soothed, “gonna get you nice and wet and begging for it first.”
Wire lent over you, caging you under his massive body and kissing you over the gag, before moving to your neck, groaning against it as he licked and nipped at your sensitive skin and relished your whimpers. Every little whine you let out made his cock throb, he couldn't wait to fuck your brains out. The head of his erection pressed against your panties, smearing precum over the fabric, the thin satin the only protection to keep his cock from forcing its way inside you. He trapped his length between your pussy and his hand, fucking the space between, rubbing against your covered clit. Your body began to betray you, clit swelling as arousal built from the friction, tears rolling down your cheeks as you struggled to refuse the stimulation.
Wire was quick to notice as the gusset of your panties grew wet, pulling them aside so he could run a finger between your folds to feel the slick you were making against your will. “Good girl!” Wire praised, “see, your body knows you belong here! Your pussy is so eager for me to breed you! Don't worry sweetheart, daddy is gonna give you what you need.”
The cuffs on your ankles dug into your skin as you fought to get away from him, unable to stop him as he tore the panties from your body, leaving you completely naked. He slid his shaft between your folds a few more times before deciding on something else, kissing and licking his way down your body until he was flat on his belly between your legs, his legs hanging off the end of the bed as he nosed against your pussy. “You smell so lovely,” he cooed, before licking a fat stripe up your cunt, chains rattling at your body went taut, “so sweet as well, mmm. I think I'll give you a reward before I fuck my baby into you.”
It felt like his tongue was trying to memorise every inch of your cunt, exploring every part of it, rolling against your clit and prodding at your entrance. You did what you could to pull tight the muscles there, but his strong tongue bullied its way inside you regardless of your efforts, lapping at your walls and making you produce more slick. There was nothing you could do to stop your body's natural processes when he was using his tongue so skillfully, if he hadn't taken you by force you would have been having a good time, but instead all you could do was whimper and struggle to bite back unwanted moans. You couldn't suppress the pleasured sounds forever though, especially not as he started sucking on your clit and pushing two fingers inside you, curling them to put pressure on your g-spot. The single moan you failed to hold back made him grin against you, knowing he had won, and quickly forcing a harsh orgasm from you.
You laid deadly still as your peak passed, making sad, defeated whimpers as he pulled his fingers from you. He crowded back over you, pulling down your gag and replacing it with his juice covered digits. “Taste how bad you want me,” he teased, “desperate little slut, begging to be bred. I'm gonna pump you full of so much cum it'll have nowhere to go but your womb.”
He gagged you with his long fingers before pulling away, focusing on lining his cock up with your entrance. “No!” You screamed, coughing from your strained throat, “please don't, please don't!”
“You mouth is saying no, but your soaked cunt is saying otherwise,” he grinned, grinding his length against you and letting his shaft get coated in your fluids, “don't worry, daddy will just give you the tip for now, until you can be a good girl and take all of it. We've got all night to mould your pussy to fit me.”
He pushed just the head of his cock inside you, slipping in easily thanks to his preparation, making short thrusts while you cried out for him to leave you be. He alternated between stretching you with the fat head of his cock, and rubbing it between your labia, each time giving you hope that he wouldn't put it back in before dashing those hopes away. Suddenly he sunk all the way in with a grunt, your warm wet hole being too much for him to resist, making you scream as he fully hilted his thick length in your tight cunt.
“You- you said you wouldn't!” You stuttered.
“I lied,” he grunted, “but look at you, you're doing so well sweetheart! You've got my whole cock inside you, I bet that feels nice huh?”
“No!” You spat back. He grabbed your face harshly and pinched it.
“Don't lie to daddy,” he growled, giving you a harsh thrust that forced a breathy moan from you. “See, it's good, huh? Nice and full! You'll be full of cum soon too.”
“No, don't!” You cried out as he started pumping you with his cock, your pussy making wet squelches as he fucked you. “No- hnng- s-stop, l-leave me alone! Hnng, fuck.”
“There it is,” Wire cooed, letting go of your face as you relented to his fucking, making soft moans as you failed to refuse how good it felt any longer, “there you go baby, I told you daddy would make you feel good. Let go sweetheart, you belong here, speared on my cock, taking all of me like you were made for me. Your pussy is fluttering around me, you're gonna cum on my cock soon huh?”
“No!” You denied, but your body was giving you away. The coil in your stomach was pulling tight, and you made heavy pants between moans as Wire gripped your hips and fucked you harder than you'd ever been fucked before, no doubt having the biggest cock you'd ever taken. You started feeling like maybe it wasn't so bad, being trapped here to be fucked and bred by a pirate, he said he'd keep you safe, right? Fuck, how long does Stockholm Syndrome usually take to kick in? Maybe you were just insane, or he really was actually fucking your brains out, so much that you no longer had the ability to think straight.
His thumb drawing circles on your clit pulled you from your thoughts, giving you the last push you needed to clamp down around him, coming with a scream and a gush of fluid neither of you expected. The not unwelcomed surprise made Wire groan and unload inside you, filling you till your overstuffed cunt was leaking. He took a few moments to rest against you, warming his cock and keeping his cum plugged up inside you. Eventually he pulled away, tutting softly as he saw the way his sheets were drenched.
“Oh sweetheart, you've made such a mess,” Wire cooed, “it's okay, daddy will take care of you. You've been such a good girl. Are you gonna behave if I unchain you?”
You gave a weak nod, your spirit entirely broken, disgusted at yourself for cumming not once, but twice, by your captor. You didn't move as Wire unclipped your shackles, pressing soft kisses to each limb where the cuffs had bit into your skin. He picked you up in a gentle bridal hold, carrying you to his bathroom and keeping you in his lap as he filled the tub, before lowering both you and himself into the water. He washed you slowly and methodically with luxurious smelling products, massaging your aching joints and your scalp as he worked shampoo into it. At some point you dozed off, waking in his bed, laid with fresh sheets, dressed in an expensive feeling satin nighty and tucked under mountains of blankets and furs. Next to you on the side table was a tray of food, not just scraps like you expected but good, tasty smelling food. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all. He only wanted a baby right? You knew you wanted kids anyway. Maybe being the pet of some pirate who treats you well, spoils you and makes you cum hard wasn't the worst thing that could happen. Maybe you really did belong here.
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