#order might not be proper like the last one
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
beesly-pam · 5 months ago
Text
Tag 9 people you want to know better
Tagged by the lovely @braedenhales
Last Song : Janiye by Vishal Mishra and Rashmeet Kaur
Sweet, Spicy or Savory : Spicy
Last Thing I Googled : Normal People book by Sally Rooney
Favorite Color : Green
Tea or Coffee : Coffee always
Last Movie : The Proposal
Current Obsession : Fleabag just finished the last episode today and the tears I have cried watching this show. I don't mean this lightly but it is a must watch and actually genius.
Currently Reading : Fanfics 😅 and A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry
Relationship Status : Single
Tagging : @userlaylivia @autistichalfblood @partiallypearl @fishyyyyy99 @youdonothavetobegood and anyone who wants to play the game I don't have any more mutuals 😅😅
18 notes · View notes
newtness532 · 5 months ago
Text
4 more vitamins/ 60 more slides
4 notes · View notes
cursingtoji · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
summary: clan leader!gojo needs a favor from your clan but as the leader you refuse, so he proposes to give you a child since your husband is unable to.
"and what am i to do when the child comes out with a white head of hair and blue eyes?"
“if that happens…” he undoes the knot that holds your kimono together and pushes the material down your arms with no resistance from you, “…then i’ll kill your husband myself and marry you.”
nsfw ahead cw: historical au, infidelity, pregnancy, creampie, child birth, satoru is pathetically in love. featuring samurai bodyguard geto and toji.
Tumblr media
“i thought we had solved all our business with the gojo clan” your husband says from the door he leans on.
“and i did” you emphasize the i since the head of your clan is you and only you went to the clan meetings that got things solved. you tapped your lips a little bit more to place the reddish pigment looking at the mirror, “but satoru summoned this meeting and gave no details.”
“satoru huh?” your husband points, not letting go unnoticed the fact you used his first name without formalities.
“all right” you take one step back checking if your kimono is proper, “see you tonight” you peck his lips lightly to not ruin the tint on yours and proceed to the carriage outside.
for years the gojo clan and yours avoided each other due to some very old beef that no one remembers or even was alive when it happened, so when your mother passed and you assumed as the new head you soon decided to reach out to make peace with the current head of the rival clan and a friendly relationship was restored. more often than not you two met, sometimes with other clan members or even other clans when necessary, but today gojo insisted on being just the two of you.
toji, your bodyguard, opens the carriage door when you arrive and give you his hand for you to step out.
to avoid any issues the place of the meeting was always the temple middle way your residences. from time to time your families attended the prayers there, that’s when your husband saw satoru for the first time.
“where’s his wife?” he asked the first time you pointed the white-haired man as the clan head after you made peace.
“he doesn’t have one.”
“fiancée then?”
“i don’t think so” you both watched discreetly as he greeted the monks.
“i find that quite odd. what about the black-haired man?” he pointed to geto, gojo’s bodyguard, “could they be involved romantically?” geto leaned to whisper something to his master, a little bit too close if you might add, a few more inches and his lips would be touching satoru’s ear. his romantic life was no business of yours but you didn’t like the idea of him having any partners, didn’t seem right, though deep down you knew it was very unlikely for a handsome man like him to be alone. both men somehow found your curious gaze.
“geto” you greet the known bodyguard as you enter the temple, and he bows to you, your bodyguard nods at him as well and you’re guided to the secret room.
the conversation went on for almost an hour, satoru served you tea when he noticed you finished yours, which was unusual for a clan head to do such a mundane task but he always insisted no servant join on your private meetings. you always thought he was particularly paranoid about spies, but that suspicion was dismissed when you had your first meeting with other clan heads and he didn’t oppose the people that stayed in the back of the room waiting for their master’s orders.
“satoru we went over this on the last meeting, why am i here?” you are getting impatient, satoru always seemed relaxed when he was at the temple like it’s the one place people don’t come to him with problems, so he tended to do things without any rush at all.
“so impatient…” he smirks, “i was getting to the point but fine. i need your doctors for a few weeks.”
because of the many wars and the necessity to heal mainly the samurai your clan became specialized in healing techniques and remedies instead of combat.
“is someone injured?” you raised your eyebrow, it wasn’t likely for satoru to ask for something like this when he could’ve sent a letter.
“no. but we are expecting a conflict soon and—”
“let me stop you there satoru” you raised your hand and for a second you saw a glimpse of annoyance cross his features, “we don’t get involved with battles anymore, the healers go through extensive training and i can’t risk losing them in battle.”
“so instead of putting their knowledge into practice you rather keep them locked in a room reading books?”
“they are busy with research at the moment” you raise your chin unwilling to budge on the matter.
“is that so?” he tilted his head smiling “and how many people does it take to figure out your husband is infertile?”
you widened your eyes, this is way too personal of a matter for someone else, especially another clan head, to know.
on the other side of the door, geto and toji guarded the room, they were close enough to listen to the conversation and without turning his head geto looked at toji with his eyebrow raised, to which toji only nodded confirming the rumors.
“you’re not the only one with little birds across territories, sweetheart” his smile only seems to grow.
“that is no business of yours. besides, lending you my healers will only harm my clan and, as i said, put them at unnecessary risk” you managed to find your composure back and avoid the infertility topic.
“don’t you trust i have the best warriors? you seemed to when we came to your aid” he reminded a time you asked for their men.
“i paid for that.”
“and what makes you think i won’t?”
“we don’t need money.”
“i’m not talking about money” he drops the volume of his voice.
“listen, satoru—” you rise to your feet sensing the tone of this conversation is off.
“i’m listening, for a very long time i’ve been listening” he rises as well and takes a few steps in your direction, “you know what i listen to? the rumors about your family threatening to make your brother head of the clan if you don’t bear an heir soon.”
you take a step back.
“or the resources you’ve been spending to research a treatment for your husband. tell me, darling, can he even get it up for you?” he is too close now, you can see all the details of his insanely blue eyes.
“he— that’s not a problem” you accidentally confess.
“of course it’s not, look at you” his finger brushes your cheek and the touch makes you burn under your skin, “i could give you a child” he lowers his head to your ear, running his lips on it, “a healthy, smart, beautiful child” he presses his hand on your belly over the thick material of your clothes, “and it wouldn’t even be an effort” he presses his hardened member on your hip.
“and what am i to do when the child comes out with a white head of hair and blue eyes?” you look into his eyes challenging him to a solution.
“if that happens…” he undoes the knot that holds your kimono together and pushes the material down your arms with no resistance from you, “…i’ll kill him myself and take his place as your husband.”
you gasp, not expecting such an answer from the man you always watched trying to find a way to avoid violence.
satoru kisses your jaw then your cheek and when he gets close to your lips you turn your head, your conscience only now, in this intimate act, attacking you.
“he’s not fulfilling his duty” he whispers, letting go of the knot on his kimono, taking your hand and putting it on his chest. you open your eyes, not even aware you had closed them, and see his sculpted torso, so close to you, so warm…
“it’s not your fault, can’t you see?” he raises your chin, “it wasn’t meant to be, unlike us” you know he’s just telling you what you want to hear, but in his voice everything made sense.
“you’ll see” he picks you up and lowers his body with you back to the mat in the middle of the room, his kimono is still around his arms while yours was forgotten somewhere else, leaving only the very thin, dress-like, white undergarment that pretty much showed everything.
satoru lowers his head to your chest, his tongue wetting your nipple over the material, “i bet you’ll become even prettier” he replaces your breast with his hand, big and hot, and goes to the other nipple, “with your breasts heavy and a big belly” he sucks on you, hardly, you put your hand over your mouth.
satoru raises your legs over his shoulders, “your feet will get tired” he kisses the inner thigh, “but you’ll still come and see me” you thought it sounded like a question, it was a statement.
his head goes down, as he kisses your folds your back arches, he licks a stripe ending on your clit and flickering it.
satoru starts to lose himself, he gets too intoxicated by you, almost forgetting time is running against him here. he doesn’t have much longer until your bodyguard gets suspicious and calls for you, and by the way your hand is tight against your mouth he doubts you’ll be able to give a proper response.
he wants to make you cum before he shoots his load, suguru’s intel told him you asked one of the doctors if the woman needed to come to increase the chances. it doesn’t take much medical knowledge to interpret that question.
you cum on his tongue pulling him out of his dreams where he imagined himself doing that every night after those boring fucking meetings he has to attend at every slight inconvenience in his clan.
“it’s gonna be okay, just relax for me” he pushes his length slowly before you get the chance to see his size. you whisper his name behind your hand and he can’t stand not seeing your whole face, so he takes your hand out of the way and kisses your wet lips pushing his tongue and swallowing your moans as he goes deeper and starts to pick a pace.
satoru holds back a curse, reminding himself he’s in a sacred place and although anyone would say that’s ironic given what you’re doing in the temple he would argue that’s even more sacred than what most people prayed for.
you start to feel his weight down on you as he trusts get sloppier, he’s still kissing you, holding your lips with his when he twitches and fills your insides, in your drunk mind you think it’s so much more than what you’re used to.
after he catches his breath he pushes himself up and out of you, you allow yourself to close your eyes for a brief moment but you open them wide again when satoru pushes his cum back into you with his finger, “keep it deep and warm for me, yes?”
one hour later you pass through the door your bodyguard slides open for you to enter your chambers. on the way there you realized there’s no chance he and geto didn’t grasp on what was happening inside the room.
“toji?” you call before he can close the door and go to his personal room, he stops, indicating he listens although he doesn’t respond with the formality others usually do, “i trust you won’t share with anyone what happened today” you speak firmly looking the tall man behind you over your shoulder, his scar stretches slightly with his smirk, the man bows and closes the door.
Tumblr media
they said it was a road accident, the horse got spooked and ran, by the time they found it there was no rider so they searched your husband and found his body down the mountain.
the ritual was long, you wore the traditional widow clothing, accepting the kind words of the clan members and the prayer of the monks. though you really were sad, all this pity was making you sicker than…
“at least you didn’t have kids, no child deserves to grow up with a dead father” an old lady says to comfort you while holding your hands.
“excuse me” you turn around walking slowly to not raise suspicions and as soon as it is just you on the other side of your home you bend your torso and throw up all you’ve eaten before the funeral.
you cough and when a tissue enters your field of vision you immediately take it and clean your mouth.
you feel your stomach empty but the light volume below it reminds you of whose fault it is.
you raise with the tissue on your lips to say thank you and the sight of the white-haired man makes you choke.
“shh, it’s okay, i’m here as an ally, to give my condolences to a friend in grief” there’s absolutely no seriousness in his tone.
“what about the war?” you ask through heavy breathing.
“that was child’s play, don’t worry, your healers will return safe and sound in a few days” he puts his hand on your shoulder to calm you down, you do.
satoru takes a second to drop his sight to your belly, it has been a month since your last encounter, and by your sensitive stomach he knows that one time was enough for you to get pregnant.
“do you think you can hide it for another month until the wedding? then when the child is born we’ll just say it was a premature birth” god, your former husband’s body was barely cold and gojo is already planning the wedding and what to say about the baby.
“why now?” you look up at his mischievous eyes, he knows what you’re asking truly.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about, it was an accident right?” he touches your face, brushing away a tear that came out, more of a natural body reaction of your gagging than a sadness reaction.
“satoru, tell me” you demanded.
“i just reflect a little you know? when i said i would kill him you never asked me not to. besides, i don’t want another man to think they own what’s mine” his eyes are darker, you think he’s talking about the child in your womb but by the intensity of his gaze, you realize he’s talking about you. “if you need anything tell suguru, i’ll have him staying in the village until we announce the wedding.”
“no, i have toji, don’t want anyone suspecting geto’s intentions” you defend.
gojo doesn’t seem to like it, but he doesn’t argue either, “either way, i want to see you. meet me at the temple in five days, we’ll talk about the arrangements” he leans in and kisses your forehead before turning away and then back “i almost forgot” he reaches for something inside his sleeve and pulls out a shiny golden bracelet with gems and puts it on your palm, you know you can’t wear it now but god it’s gorgeous, “came from the west especially for you” he puts his hand on top of yours and leaves it there for a long moment as you look into each other's eyes. satoru is fighting the urge to kiss you, if someone catches you he can’t say he’s comforting his recently widowed friend, so he forces himself to let go of you and go head back to his village.
Tumblr media
the midwife instructs you to push harder as her helper dabs a wet cloth on your forehead. you’re squatting, on your knees giving your all to push the baby out.
finally one last push is all that it takes for the little one to come out, you want to lay down and close your eyes, but you need to see the baby first so you mumble something with your arms open, the midwife cleans baby’s face through crying and screaming.
“it’s a boy” she whispers putting him in your arms. satoru enters when he hears the cries and kneels in front of you. behind him are both suguru and toji, who aren’t allowed to enter but the men are also very eager to see the child they can’t help but try to peek.
you balance the boy in your hold for a little bit till he stops crying and when he opens his eyes you see the blue sky.
“give him to the father, we’re not over” the midwife says.
“what?” you, satoru, toji and suguru ask. the last two get an angry look from the midwife and remove themselves from the scene.
“the next one will come out soon” she puts new towels below you.
“two children? at once?” you ask in disbelief then look at satoru who can only smile apologetically.
after god knows how long you’re finally allowed to rest as the babies were cleaned and fed. the second one was a girl, with identical blue eyes as her brother and father.
“i can’t believe you put two kids in me” satoru is outside the wooden tub, breaking all tradition by helping you bathe after the birth.
“can’t say i’m sorry for that” he rubs your shoulders, “you were incredible” he confesses now that there’s only the two of you. satoru refuses to even let your feet touch the floor, he takes you out of the tub once the water starts to cool down, placing you on a dry surface and getting on his knees to dry your feet, you reach out to touch his face.
“i love you, satoru” you blurt, overwhelmed by your feelings for the man who was once your rival.
he looks up from his position, taking the hand on his face and kissing your palm, then your pulse, he kisses inch by inch of your arm until his lips are on yours, “i love you.”
Tumblr media
"pay up, pretty boy" toji approaches geto.
"excuse me?" suguru looks up from the sword he's polishing now that gojo dismissed him for the rest of the night.
"i said it was gonna be a boy."
"yeah and then a girl came out right after so the bet was invalidated."
"there's no such a thing, the boy will inherit it all anyway" toji crosses his arms, geto laughs, fishing a coin from his pocket since he knows toji will say anything to win the bet.
"and what makes you say that? there's two clans and now two heirs" toji snatches the coin as soon as he sees the silver glow.
"that's just how it has ever been" he turns his back to geto who drives his attention back to his sword.
"things are changing old man.
Tumblr media
dividers by @/cafekitsune
8K notes · View notes
moonchildstyles · 2 months ago
Note
I know angel is innocent, but do you think that if Harry had to go away for business or family or something, that she might 🥸 you know.... 🥸🥸 ˢᵉˣᵗ ʰᶦᵐ
wordcount: 9.3k+
—————
(Y/N) knuckled at her eye, attempting to get the sleep out so she could see Harry clearly. It would be the last time she'd see him for the next week, she wanted to remember every detail. 
"Stop," Harry murmured, gently grasping her wrist and pulling her hand from her eye. "You're gonna hurt yourself doing that, love." 
"Sorry," she yawned, blinking up at him. It was way too early to be awake, but she wasn't going to let him leave without a proper send off. 
"'S alright," he sighed, shifting his hold on her wrist until she was gathered against his chest. He dropped a kiss to her head, voice muffled against her hair when he said, "Jus' don't forget while 'm gone, 'kay?" 
"I'll try," she relented, keening into the warmth radiating from his chest, "What time do you land?" 
"It'll be a little after nine, I think. Y'think you'll be awake then?" 
"Maybe," she sighed, "I've got to feed Evie, so probably." 
He hugged her a bit tighter at the mention of his first born. "Will y'send me a picture when y'do? I miss her already." 
"I will," (Y/N) promised, pulling away from where her cheek had nestled against his shoulder. Blinking up at him, she told herself not to cry when he matched her gaze. It wasn't fair that he looked so cozy and warm, pliant with his own sleep, and was planning on leaving her all by herself for the next week. "Will you send me a picture of you when you land? Because I miss you already." 
It was a silly request, one that was supposed to be lighthearted—for the both of them—but only served to make her bottom lip quiver by the time the words hung between them. A pout crossed Harry's features. Dropping his bag, his now free hand landed on the back of her head, cradling her snug against him. 
"Baby," he crooned, "I miss y'too, you know that. We've never been apart like this before, have we?" Only a pathetic shake of her head was offered. "But we'll be alright. Jus' call me when y'need me, and I'll answer. You might even like having the place to yourself for a little—won't even want me to come home." 
Her eyes watered at his teasing allegation. "I'll always want you to be home with me." 
A soft sigh escaped from his chest. "Oh, love. I'll be home soon, I promise. 'S only a week." 
"I know," she blubbered, "Just wish I could go with you." 
"But you're being responsible and going to class and studying instead. Not something to be sad about at all." He pet his hand down the back of her head, gentle fingers brushing the back of her neck and warming her skin. "Besides, y'don't want to be at these conferences. They're boring." 
"Then why are you going?" If they were so boring, maybe she could convince him to stay in bed with her for the whole week instead of working.
"Gotta be on top of everything, love," he said, just as he had every other time she asked why this conference was so important, "Can't be the best tattooer in the world if I never go and see what's new." 
She deflated. He was using her words against her, the praises she would mean whether or not he went to these conferences and conventions. 
"'S gonna be alright, darling. Really," he insisted, his tone growing serious as he cupped the nape of her neck and pulled her back just enough to get a look at her. "I'll miss you, but I'll be home before y'know it. Then we can spend the whole weekend together before I go back to work." 
That did sound nice. Especially since she was more than sure she would be able to convince him to order in and eat in bed with her. 
"Okay," she relented, voice a bit watery, "Love you, H." 
His features grew soft. Without the aid of his signature eyeliner, there were only soft edges to his eyes, matching the soft curl of his lips. With his hair pulled back, she could see every plane of his face where she was used to seeing a stern edge or cutting line. But not when it came to her; everything was soft when he looked at his love.
"I love you too, (Y/N)," he murmured, ducking his head to press a simple kiss to her lips. "I'll text y'when I get to the airport, but please go back to sleep if you're still tired." 
(Y/N) chased after her, catching him in another kiss, this one a bit harder and more urgent. Their last kiss to be shared for the next week, and she was going to make it worth it. Even if she did start feeling her eyes begin to burn and her nose warm. 
His hand on the back of her neck shifted until he was cradling her cheek in his palm. He let her take what she needed, slotting his lips to hers with her bottom one between his two. It was sweet and giving, the way she sank into him, eager to get as much of her fill as she could manage in the short time frame. 
With his head much clearer, Harry drew away first, offering a smattering of pecking kisses before leaving the warmth of her presence. 
"Gonna make me miss my flight if you're not careful," he teased, offering one more press of his lips to the bridge of her nose. 
(Y/N) canted her head. That wasn't such a bad idea, actually. If he missed his flight, it would be way too much work to reschedule and possibly update his accommodations—
"No, I know what you're thinking, love," Harry smiled, shaking his head as he interrupted her line of thought, "I've still got to go." 
She made a show of deflating, taking the route of attempting to make him laugh instead of giving into the lump forming in her throat. 
"Fine," she sighed, as if he had punctured all of the air from her, "This time, I'll let you go. But you might not be so lucky the next time." 
"So generous, my lovebug is," Harry murmured, hugging her extra tight as he fit his face into her neck. "I love you so much, baby. I'll let y'know when I land." 
"Okay," she whispered, not trusting her voice to go any louder, "I love you, too." 
He pulsed his arms around her for a lingering moment before doing the hard part of untangling from her limbs. She felt decidedly colder once he left the space of her bubble. (Y/N) could only wrap her arms around her middle to keep herself from reaching for him.
She watched as he slung his bag over his shoulder. The roses on his neck bristled as he stood to the full of his height, hand resting on the doorknob. 
"I'll see you soon, baby," he promised, a sad smile on his lips, "Promise." 
"See you soon, H." 
(Y/N) followed him to the garage, watching as he backed his car out and onto the street. She waved at him on the off chance he might be looking at her, until he most definitely was too far away to catch even a speck of her. Getting out of the chill, she made her way back inside and to their shared bedroom.
 It was then, with her head on his pillow, the sheets scented of him with Harry's kitten at her feet, that she let her tears fall. 
While it wasn't the waterfall she feared she was going to shed when he was still here, it was enough to heat her skin and slick down her cheeks in rivers. She missed him already, not used to being in this bed without her Harry at her side. 
Having heard her sniffling and the incessant wiping of her sleeve over her cheeks, Evie left her post at (Y/N)'s feet and found the perfect spot to curl up right on the pillow. With her pink nose, she sniffed over (Y/N)'s tear-stained cheeks, whiskers tickling her skin. 
"Hi, Evie," (Y/N) blubbered, "Do you miss your daddy already too?" 
Evie didn't do anything other than deposit a soft lick to the tip of (Y/N)'s nose. A small smile curled (Y/N)'s salted lips. 
"At least we have each other." 
Evie chirped at that.
—————
"And, what did she say after that?" 
Patting her moisturizer into her skin, (Y/N) let out a heavy sigh as she dropped her eyes to her phone screen. Illuminated in the pixels was Harry's tired face, free of any eyeliner with his hair pulled back and a headband keeping the stray strands from brushing his eyes. A white fluffy pillow was held to his chest, taking up the bottom third of the view, his chin resting on the edge as he looked at the camera. At her. 
"Nothing. She didn't say anything the rest of the shift. It was creepy." 
Harry barked out a laugh at her words. "Not even to you?" 
"No," (Y/N) affirmed, "Even when I said bye before I left, she just nodded at me." 
At this, Harry's lips thinned. "That's not very nice. 'M sorry she acted like that today, love. She didn't hurt your feelings or anything, right?" 
The shake of her head had his features loosening in relief. "No, I'm okay. I just don't really want to go in tomorrow if she's also going to be there; I'll have to hide in the autobiographies if she is." 
"That might be fun, though," Harry started, interrupting himself with a yawn, "Easy work."
"Too easy," she pointed out, wiping the remainder of the lotion on her hands, "I'll fall asleep." 
"That doesn't sound so bad," he murmured, his own eyes falling closed in a lingering blink. 
Picking up her phone, (Y/N)'s lips puffed into a pout. She had been looking forward to this evening's FaceTime, the same way she had been the last three days, but it didn't feel right to keep him on the phone when he was so clearly tired. 
"Do you want me to let you go, H? I don't want to keep you up." 
He was quick to blink his eyes open, forcing them wide and awake as he stitched his attention on her. "No, no, 's alright. I want to talk to you, baby." 
Her own lips curled into a soft grin as she started back to their bedroom. Evie was already in her new favorite spot—right where her daddy usually slept. "I want to talk to you too, but I know you had a busy day. We can talk tomorrow." 
"But I miss you today." 
When she laid her head down on her pillow, phone in hand, the view on her screen framed an illusion that they were sharing a bed. Only a pillow between them. 
"I miss you, too," she murmured ardently, "But I feel bad." 
"Don't feel bad," he insisted, denying as if there weren't bags under his eyes, "It really wasn't that busy of a day—jus' lots of talking." 
"One of your least favorite things," she pointed out as his eyes fell closed once more.
"Not when 's you." 
At that, (Y/N) paused. Her heart pattered in her chest, blood rushing through her veins with heart-shaped cells. He was too good at arguing with her like this. 
When she didn't immediately answer, she saw his eyes open. Half-lidded, they landed directly on her. He could easily tell just what kind of reaction he was drawing out of her, her face an open book just for him to read. 
"Did I win?"
A sheepish nod was his answer. 
Hunkering down into the fluff of his hotel bed, Harry let a lazy smile cover his features. If she squinted her eyes just so, the illusion worked well enough to imagine she was lying in bed next to him—a small version of him, but Harry nonetheless. 
"I'll stay with y'until y'fall asleep, love," he murmured, just voice a comforting rumble through her phone. Next time, she decided, she was going to have her headphones on, wishing to hear every note of his voice. 
"Thank you," she peeped, grateful even if a little guilty that he was going to stay awake when he was clearly so tired. 
Through his cracked eyes, she could see affection swimming through the shattered green of his iris. "Tomorrow's going to be better, love. I know it," he insisted, broken up by a short yawn, "And if 's not, 'm catching a flight home." 
A huff of laughter fell across the cover of her pillow. "Now you're going to make me hope I have a bad day." 
Harry's grin only widened. Dimples deeply dented his cheeks. "Don't say that," he pushed, though he didn't sound particularly convincing. 
Looking at him, even made of speakers and pixels, she doubted she would have an easy time falling asleep tonight. Not when she had him right here with her, as close as he could be. 
—————
Posing in the mirror, (Y/N) tugged the end of her skirt to flare it around her thighs. She snapped a photo of herself in the mirror, her phone partially covering her face in the reflection. 
Once the photo generated on her phone screen, (Y/N) relaxed from her pose and took a look at the shot. With a chunky, slouchy cream sweater covering her top—a borrowed piece, of course, from the opposite side of the closet—she had taken a leap and chosen to wear a skirt despite the chilly autumn weather outside. The night before, when she had picked out this outfit, she had been unsure, knowing she would undoubtedly be freezing on campus with only a skirt covering to the mid of her thighs. It had been Harry's idea to put on a pair of hose or stockings at the least to help cover her a little. 
(Leggings had been his first suggestion, and she had shot that down immediately).
Sending him a photo now, with a pair of barely used stockings pulled as high up her thighs as she could manage, was her test to see if she looked as silly as she felt. The skirt thankfully was covering the scalloped lace lining the top of the stockings, but she felt a bit scandalous with the pieces on her legs. 
Attaching the photo to a message, she typed out: 
     do you think this looks silly? i don't know if i still have the hose from my halloween costume but i'll look for it if you think that will work better!!
Pressing sending, she turned her attention to her hair instead of watching for Harry's response. All she had time for was to reach for a sparkly white headband before her phone buzzed against the countertop. From the preview, she saw that he had loved the image she sent before sending back a couple of texts in rapid succession. 
     Baby, you look gorgeous! 
     Is that my sweater? You should keep it.
     Don't change, I think you look perfect!
     But why can't I see your face? :( I miss you. 
A soft smile covered her features as she scrolled over the handful of messages. Taking a moment, she slid her headband over her head, pushing stray hairs out of her face. It felt a little silly, but she took another photo of herself, this one only of her smiling face before pressing send once more. 
Before she could even type out her gratitude for his previous messages, another handful were delivered.
     Baby! There you are!
     You look so pretty!
     Is that your new lipgloss? 
     I love when you push your hair back like that. Will you do that for the next time I get to take you out?
(Y/N) felt like she needed to be lying on her stomach, kicking her feet in the air while she twirled her hair when she read these over. Even from miles and miles away, she was not immune to the way he spoke to her. 
     thank you h🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 you're so sweet i miss you too!!!!
     i'm just worried that they're going to fall over my legs and then people will see the lace:( 
The delivered receipt never even popped up, Harry reading her messages as soon as they were sent. 
     I think you'll be okay, love. Your skirt is long enough that if they fall little, I don't think anyone will see. 
     If it would make you feel a little better, you can take one of my coats and use it to cover up if you feel like you need it. 
Truthfully, she was going to take one of his jackets with her today anyway, whether or not he gave her permission. 
     oooh that would be perfect!!!!! thank youuuuuuuu
     Of course. Stay warm today, darling. I'll call you when I get back to the hotel tonight. 
Glancing at the time, she was sure Harry would have just exited the tube and started making his way to the convention with the rest of the boys from the shop. She would have to keep it together and not text him every thought she had during the day. 
     talk to you later!!!! have fun love u
     Love you too, angel.
She couldn't wait to see him say those words to her in person. Only three more days. 
—————
From where it was tucked away under her thigh, (Y/N)'s phone buzzed. Today's lecture was an easy one to be distracted from, even if it probably wasn't the best idea to pay attention to her phone instead of the slides at the front of the room. 
Nonetheless, she reached for her phone under her skirt and glanced at the screen. 
Harry had sent a photo. 
A pinch appeared between her brows as she unlocked the screen, swiping on the notification. 
Their text thread was now made up of a photo of Harry in the bathroom at the conference center. It was a shot of his reflection in the mirror, where he was goofily posing to mimic the one she had sent over that morning. His tattooed hand was out at his side, pinching an invisible skirt to show off the flare.
     What do you think?  
(Y/N) had to choke back a laugh at the sight. 
     super cute h
     grab a jacket in case you get cold though
When he didn't immediately reply, (Y/N) tucked her phone away, smile now on her features as she pretended to pay attention to the lecturer before her. 
She was going to have to send that picture to Sarah and Mitch.
—————
(Y/N) checked the time, her expression falling when she saw just how little time had passed since the last time she looked. 
It had already been an hour since she said goodnight to Harry over the phone, but it was still too early to justify climbing into bed. Especially since she had taken a nap when she made it home from work. 
Over the phone, Harry had seemed so sleepy, recounting his long day touring the conference before getting a chance to finally sit down and give her a call when he made it back to his hotel room. She could have kept talking to him for hours, in love with the sound of his voice rumbling through the phone, but he seemed so exhausted. She didn't want to keep him up just because she missed him.
That left her alone, traveling back and forth to her closet. Different outfits were bundled in her arms each trip, the goal to be finding something cute to wear for her presentation on Monday. Without Harry here to soothe her for another couple of days—"two more sleeps," they had said on the phone—this was her only chance at distracting herself from the slides she already memorized. If she felt pretty, she thought she might be able to get through the whole thing a little easier. 
Playing music from the heart shaped speaker she stole from their bathroom, she bopped about the room, laying out different options on the bed. All of them were pretty cute, she thought, just... not right? She wasn't sure why, but none of them seemed to fit the vision she had for herself on Monday. 
Would the pink skirt come across as childish? The sweater with bows laced down the sleeves as unprofessional? But the fitted, dark green sweater she'd pulled didn't really feel like herself—at least not the version of herself that she would feel the most comfortable being when she was already going to be at her most uncomfortable in front of her whole class. 
Though it sounded like a lot of work, she figured she would only know for sure if she tried on each prospect. Even if the idea sounded even less fun when she remembered Harry wasn't going to be there to give his candy-coated opinion and tell her every sweet nothing he could think of. 
At the very least, it would fill her time and check off a task she knew she wasn't going to want to do when Harry returned home on Sunday. 
—————
Falling back onto their bed, (Y/N) didn't feel any more accomplished even with the skirt flaring around her body. She still needed to change out of this particular outfit—the one with the bow sweater layered over a silky blush dress and the same stockings that had treated her well earlier in the week—but she was too tired to do so at the moment. Instead, she pulled open her camera roll and looked at the trio of photos she took in her options. 
Even if she knew she wasn't going to gain any kind of response until the morning, (Y/N) still attached all three to a new message to Harry. He could be the deciding vote (even if she really just wanted him to pick the outfit she currently had on). 
Despite knowing he was asleep—the time being now a full hour and a half since saying goodnight—she still lagged for a moment, waiting for the receipt to change to read. Unsurprised, she locked her phone after a minute when her message stayed on delivered. 
(Y/N) pushed her phone to the side as she forced herself up from where she laid on her bed, a heavy sigh leaving her chest. She needed to get into her pajamas, then wash her face, perform her skincare routine, get her hair in shape for bedtime, and then probably feed Evie again and have a snack herself, and, if he wasn't too tired, she could start the new book she dow—
Her phone buzzed. 
Pausing where she stood, feet bare other than the stockings wrapped around her legs. She knew it was probably Sarah, confirming their plans for the following way. But, (Y/N) still, just a little, hoped it might be Harry. 
Without letting herself get too excited, she reached for her phone amongst the tufts of her comforter. 
A single notification sat at the bottom of her lock screen. 
     Harry🖤
She didn't even attempt to hold back the smile that bloomed over her features. He was supposed to be asleep. 
Sliding the notification open, their text thread opened up. Her photos took up the majority of the screen though her eyes went right to his message. 
     Are you still in the last outfit?
A little less... affectionate than she had been hoping for, but a response nonetheless. 
     i am why ! 
     i thought you were asleep 
Another message near instantly came through. 
     I'm having a harder time falling asleep than I thought. 
     I really like that last one, love. Are you wearing those stockings? 
She frowned at his explanation. She didn't like the idea of Harry tossing and turning all by himself in a hotel room. Maybe, she'd try to help him get to sleep. 
     yessss but i did find those ones that i got for my halloween costume so i can wear those instead if you think that's better for the presentation 
     Can I see? 
(Y/N)'s frown deepened. 
     the other ones???? 
It wasn't a fun set to pull up her legs since the material was so fragile and thighs when they made it up to her thighs, but she would manage if wanted to see—
     No, the stockings. 
     You're still wearing them right, love? 
Her cheeks warmed. Maybe it was the way she was reading it in her head—with the deep rumble of his voice, drawling and heavy with his eyes on her—but she swore there was a little more to this than attempting to help her pick an outfit. 
In lieu of typing out a response, she turned her camera on. She debated finding her way back to bed or standing before the mirror once more. Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, she figured the mirror was the safer choice. At least this way she could offer a full view. 
Bunching the skirt of the dress in her hand, she snapped a photo of the stockings tight around her legs, the white lace showing. There was no pattern in the netting, only the sheer white mesh, the material offering a satin finish over her skin. Nothing special, really. 
The photo sent, never reaching delivered status before being read by Harry. Though no immediate response was sent back.
(Y/N) waited as moments passed before a bubble filled with three little dots popped up in the corner of the screen. 
     You look so pretty, love. I wish I was there with you. 
     Do you have anything else pretty on under your outfit?
She blinked at the message. Okay, so she hadn't been reading him wrong, even if she was a little surprised at how quickly he was leading her down this path. 
Her fingers hovered over the offered keyboard. Truthfully, she wasn't wearing a pretty matching set the way she was sure Harry was picturing. Underneath the layers of her sweater and dress, was a comfortable, unlined pink bra and a set of cotton panties in baby blue. 
Just as she went to type an answer, she blanched, eyes widening as an alternative idea popped through her head. 
Did he want a... picture of her?
The idea had her stomach churning. 
Though it wasn't anything Harry hadn't seen before, photos seemed so much more scandalous. She didn't doubt that it had much to do with conversations she overhead her parents having, the kind when a celebrity or a girl in their community had private photos leaked and spread around. It was always the woman in the photo's fault—if she hadn't wanted those out there, she shouldn't have taken them. She shouldn't have been acting like a whore. 
She must have taken longer than she realized when another message came through.
     Baby? 
Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) typed out a noncommittal answer. 
    maybeeeeeeee
    why?
Harry would be disappointed to see her chewing on the pillow of her lip, but she couldn't help herself. Was it stupid to be nervous? Especially when the question itself hadn't even been asked—and even if it had, Harry was the love of her life. She lived with him, and was stressing over the idea of sending him a photo of her body? It didn't make much sense. 
     I miss you baby. Do you think I could see you? 
If there was any room for speculation over how much he missed her and in what way, it was all put to rest when another photo came through. 
It was a view of the small of Harry's stomach, angled as if he were posing the camera from the height of his chest. His hand, tattooed and familiar, grasping at a bulge through the worn black material of his sweats. 
(Y/N) blinked, breath stuck in her chest. 
No wonder he couldn't fall asleep. 
Was she supposed to send her own photo now? To be fair, it was quite the sight—one she had missed since he left—to see the expanse of his hand over his crotch, but she wasn't sure she was far enough gone to completely disregard the feeling in her stomach. 
But she couldn't leave him hanging. She knew she would be sick to her stomach if she sent something to Harry and he didn't immediately respond in kind. 
She didn't think before she reacted to the photo with a heart, typing out: 
     i miss you too!!!!! is this why you couldn't sleep 
It took all of one second, realizing what she had sent his way, to make her cringe. She was sure this wasn't the kind of reaction he had been hoping for when he sent an explicit image. 
She hoped, if anything, he thought it was endearing. 
     A little bit. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since our phone call. I don't know if I can wait two more sleeps to see you again. 
Her heart raced behind her ribs. While it wasn't something she really indulged in, there was more than once this week that she had briefly wondered if she had the willpower to wait for him to return home before spreading her legs. But, as it usually did, the idea paled in comparison to what he was able to offer her. If she had to wait a couple of days, then so be it, she had decided. 
That decision didn't feel so concrete now, not with the view on her phone. 
It's not like Harry would spread her photos around. She knew that. And this would be far from the most scandalous thing she'd ever partaken in with Harry's guidance. 
And, gosh, did she miss him.
Between her legs, a heat gathered. What she wouldn't give to be on her knees before him, her hand replacing his. To hear the rumbling of his moans, hearing him call her his pretty, good girl. So gorgeous he can barely handle himself. That he could spend hours—days, even—in bed with her. All he wanted was to take care of her, starting with the ache between her legs. 
She clutched her phone tightly. 
It wouldn't be so bad, she thought. It was just a photo. If it really bothered her, Harry would delete every photo and every mention of the photos. Besides, she was an adult. 
She had moved into a home with her long-term boyfriend—who she had a sneaking suspicion was going to propose in the near future—, took care of her own needs, and would soon be facing her college graduation. She could send photos of herself if she wanted to. 
(Even if she still felt a little sick to her stomach. Aside from being unsure of sending them, she didn't even know how to take them). 
     Are you still there, baby? I didn't mean to scare you off. 
A small smile touched the corners of her mouth. She could hear those words in his voice. He was always so worried about being too much, asking for too much, when it came to her. Because he was Harry, and he loved her. 
He loved her so much, and she didn't doubt that she could trust him even more.
     yeah hold on im taking a picture !!
That was all she said before pulling up her camera. 
Making quick work of her clothing, the sweater and dress became nothing more than a puddle on the floor. She hesitated at the hem of the stockings. It felt a bit silly to keep them on, given the fact that her underwear was far from pretty and put together. But, Harry did seem to like them. 
Before she could think any more about it, she took her phone and stepped in front of the mirror. 
There was a feeling in her chest, similar to that of when he took her to the beach for the first time in Barcelona, seeing herself in so little clothing. Very different to when she would disrobe in front of him, knowing that he was only going to gaze upon her in awe. She wouldn't be able to gauge his reaction from the other end of a phone. 
If not for the fact that she had already said she was taking a photo of herself, (Y/N) may have backed down. Instead, she committed to posing before the mirror. 
She stood with her thighs together, the gusset of her panties tucked between her legs. The stockings stood out against her skin, shimmering in the low light of the lit lamps of their bedroom. Her breasts were cradled in the light pink material of her bra, unlined with the peak of her nipples pushing through. The thin line of wire under her bust held up the swells. 
Angling her camera to conceal her face once more, (Y/N) held her breath as she pressed the circle at the bottom of her screen. She didn't allow herself more than a glance at the photo before pressing send. It didn't look too bad when she peeked, but she wasn't in the mood to judge her body any more than she already was beginning to judge herself for taking the photo at all. 
She couldn't wait to see what his reaction would be. Instead, she locked her phone and dove for the safety of her bed, wrapping the throw lined at the bottom of the mattress around her nearly-bare body. 
(Y/N) knew she wasn't a bad person. Right? She had only sent a photo to her boyfriend. That was all. Was it the best photo? Maybe not, but it was of her. That should be enough for him, right? 
Harry always told her just how perfect she was, how much he loved her body. Even after she had more than one bowl of soup before he took her to bed, he never complained over her bloated stomach or if she hadn't had time to shave herself before spreading her legs. 
But, photos could be so unforgiving. She wouldn't blame him if he thought differently of her. Not to mention, she really gave in pretty quickly to this whole photo thing, didn't she? 
What if he hadn't even wanted a photo of her, and she sent one anyway? She should have know—
     Fuck
     Angel are you joking 
     This isn't fair. You cant look so pretty without me 
     Did you keep those stockings on for m e?
Something bloomed in the middle of her chest. It was a bit silly, but she knew Harry. He didn't text without punctuation and checking his spelling. Seeing the lack of periods and a disjointed word at the end, she liked to think that her photo was having a more profound effect on him than she could have hoped. 
The lighting hadn't been as bad as she thought, then. 
Confidence struck her, urging her to message him back before it had a chance to fizzle out. 
     yes daddy
She wished she could be there to see his reaction to the message. She missed seeing that flash in his eyes, his pupils dilating as he gazed at her. In her head, he would have reached out and grabbed her hips, pulling her flushed to him. Hips together, where the thick bulge of his cock would press right against her core. 
Was it crazy to catch a flight? She could probably make it there soon, and then they could go home together on Sunday. 
That way she could at least see her daddy be—
     You're such a good girl for your daddy angel
     Fucking perfect you're gonna make me cum just from your picture 
     Can I show you?
The final message had her heart slowing. The heat that had fallen to the backburner during her overthinking had returned tenfold. The effect she had on him would never not amaze her. 
She definitely wanted to see. 
     please
(Y/N) waited, sitting in the message thread. Her imagination ran wild, filling in the gaps his absence left behind. 
She wondered how long he would be home before she would drip to her knees. Would she let him put his things away, or would he feel the same need she did and take care of her as soon as he made it through the door? Would he press her against the door, his hair still pulled back from his flight, minty gum being ground between his molars? Or would he give her the courtesy of placing her on the kitchen counter, shorts pulled to her ankles? 
Could she get him to play with her, chasing her into their bedroom before she tugged him down atop her? So she could lay just like she was now, on her back with her head cushioned by a pillow smelling of him. In her head, she would have something much prettier on, but if he wanted her pretty socks on, she could do that for him. She could spread her legs for him, let him fit himself between her thighs. 
Her breathing was labored as she took the hand bundled between the sheets to the small of her stomach. Her phone was still hovering above her face, waiting for the response she needed from Harry, but now her attention was beginning to split in half. 
Now, she noticed the goosebumps on her skin, rising in the wake of her own touch. The feeling brought her back to their first Valentine's Day. When he had sat behind her, their hands looped together between her legs, showing her exactly how to touch herself, to emulate the way he took care of her. Her fingertips had only touched the first thread of the elastic around her waist when a message came through.
Or a video did. 
There was a part of her that was worried that she didn't even hesitate before pressing play. The other part of her was too worked up to care. 
The video took over the full screen in an instant, the sound turned up just enough to hear soft noises. (Y/N) hurried to turn the volume up a few notches when she realized what she was looking at. 
With his sweats pushed down to his thighs, showing off the ink needled into nearly every inch of his skin, Harry had his hand fisted around his cock. Only lamps were turned on in his hotel room, leaving the space in buttery, limited light. Shadows were elongated, everything just a touch darker than she was sure it was in real. Including the black nail polish that glimmered on his fingers as he stroked his hand over his cock. 
The tip was red and ruddy, blurting with precum. He was much more worked up than she was expecting, the long night having taken a toll on him. Slick, soft pats of his hand hitting his base sounded through her phone, in conjunction with the heady pants behind the camera. 
Her mouth ran dry when she heard her name being moaned. She had missed that voice so much. 
All over a single photo she had sent. 
A week apart was much too long, it appeared. 
Abruptly, the video stopped. She didn't think before she tapped the screen again, urging the clip to start over. 
Watching the video once more, (Y/N) allowed her other hand to drift lower. Breaching the waist of her underwear, she pictured his hand as her eyes fluttered to a close. It was jarring, the first touch to her clit. The last time she had done this for herself, had been under Harry's supervision that day. Never had she been alone before. 
Though, she figured she wasn't really alone, not when she heard the grumbling tone of his moans filtering through the room. The call of her name as he jerked his fist over his length. 
With her mind becoming a bit more muddy with every breath, she attempted to remember just how Harry worked her up and helped her through the shaky breaths entering her lungs. 
He always started at her clit, working the bud in tight circles, borrowing wetness from her slit to keep her movements slick. Her back arched as she slid her finger lower, parting her folds to where her pulsing opening beckoned to someone miles away. 
Her lungs shuddered, breathing uneven as she attempted to focus. Pulling her eyes open (she hadn't even known they closed, really) she directed the small portion of her attention she had to spare towards her phone. The video had ended, the screen moments away from locking before she tapped her thumb. 
Swiping to their messages, she didn't think. 
     harry oh my god 
     i miss you so much daddy I wish you were here this doesn't feel the same without you 
     i need you 
A trio of dots came up on the corner of her screen.
     Can I see you, baby? I miss you too so much. 
     When I get home I m going to take such good care f you I promise 
     Be good and show daddy what he's doing to you love I need it 
How he knew so clearly what to say to her, what would clear through the much and spear into her chest, she was never going to be sure, but she would always be grateful.
His request for another photo was a steady distraction. It allowed her to keep some of her head on straight instead of losing every bit of her to the pleasure she was eliciting between her legs. Taking a hurried moment, she shimmied her panties down her stockinged legs until the garment was hanging off of an ankle. Spreading her legs wide, her phone angled just so, the camera caught a view of the softness of her stomach to the middle of her thighs. Just the top scalloping of the lace was caught from the stockings.
Her hand, tucked just so, worked between her legs. She wasn't sure if the slick sounds permeating the room was going to be picked up, but she hoped so. She hoped Harry would be able to hear what such a simple video had done to her. That she had viewed it twice, her underwear now sporting a damp spot with that same wetness being pulled up to coat her clit. That she really did listen when he attempted to show her how to take care of herself, circling her fingers around the bud with her pulsing opening waiting for him the second he made it back home to her. 
Oh god, when he got home. 
She didn't doubt that he was going to take perfect care of her. Throwing her head back, (Y/N) lost sight of the screen of her phone, but a different view took over her head. 
This one had Harry sitting before her, letting her nestle between his thighs as he stroked his cock in front of her face. She could see the pearls of precum beading down his length to be swept away in his stroking fist. Glistening and throbbing. She would open her mouth and let him do anything he wanted—
"Daddy," she breathed, blinking back to the world when she realized she still had a video she was to be directing. 
Keeping her hand between her legs, she shut off the camera. She only made a couple of presses before the video was off to Harry, though she kept working her fingers over her clit, dipping low in teasing touches before returning to the bud. As much as she would have liked to feel something sinking deep inside her, the idea didn't sound as appealing when she knew her own fingers weren't going to cut it. She would save that bit for Harry; toying with her clit was doing a well enough job, and she didn't have the attention to take care of two different paces, if she was honest. 
A handful of responses were delivered to her at a rapid-fire pace. 
     can I save that video baby
     you look so pretty with your hand between your legs 
     Doing what daddy taught you rigt 
     Im so fuckign proud of you I miss you so much angel 
     can I see you cum please 
     for me 
Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) barely was able to keep her hand from shaking as she typed.
     I want to see you:( 
It was at the same moment that her phone buzzed. A FaceTime call. From Harry.
"Harry?" she greeted, breathless when she answered. She didn't need to glance at the tiny box of herself to know that her eyes were lidded and wild, mouth parted and swollen. 
"Oh fuck, (Y/N)," he muttered, the view of his face obstructed from the messy state of his hair. His cheeks blazed with warmth, baby hair clinging to his temples. "You're close, love? Can y'cum with me?" 
(Y/N) practically melted into the mattress at the sound of his voice. She missed this so much—missed him more than she even realized until then. Her clit pulsed under her finger. 
"Uh-huh," she nodded, debating turning her camera around before blinking at her phone screen. "Do you... I can show you." 
A string of curses left his raspberry mouth. "Let me see, baby. Let daddy see." 
She didn't have to give another thought before she was punching the button, reversing the camera to show a view of her spread legs. Her hand was clearly working over her pussy, the slick sounds not matching the circling of her fingers. 
"That feel good, angel?" Harry panted, his eyes almost falling closed before he suddenly remembered what was in front of him. A quiet whimper broke from her throat. "I know, baby. 'M sure it feels so good, huh?" 
For the hundredth time in the last handful of minutes, she wished Harry was with her. She wished he was hovering above her, that she could see the look on her face and the need flashing through her eyes. That he would know what she needed just from looking at her, but she supposed she could handle that part for the night. Maybe. 
"R-Really good, daddy," she let out, breathless, "I-I want to see you—I'm—" 
Before her eyes, she saw the screen flip. Where his flustered face had been was now a view of his cock. Much like his video, his fist was working relentlessly over his length, though he decidedly looked much more desperate. He was gleaming in the sheen of his precum, his thumb swiping through the near constant river dripping down. From the way he was breathing alone, she was sure he was close. 
"Harry—oh my god," she murmured, barely finding her voice, "Wh-When you get home, will you—Can you let me do that for you, please? I want you so bad." 
It was a bold request, so bluntly spoken in her book. Though it only seemed to spur Harry on. His cock jumped in his hand, another stream sliding down his cock. 
"You're gonna make me cum, baby," he groaned, the camera going shaking like his breathing, "I wanna see you first—can y'do that for me? Are y'close?" 
Shifting her hold on her phone, she moved her camera to show the pace of her fingers between her legs, working over her clit. She moved her legs wider apart, her movements growing messy and clumsy. Knowing that he was watching her was enough to have her arching her back. 
"So close, so close," she muttered, her voice thick in her throat. 
"Show me." The command of his voice was so enticing. "I wanna see how much y'miss me, love." 
When he put it that way, she couldn't hold off any more. She wanted him to know just how badly she missed him, how much she wished she was at his side, hands on each other. Shuttering her eyes, she hoped she kept her hand steady as she felt herself unravel. Though it didn't compare to the fire Harry lit in the pit of her stomach, the flames lighting under her skin was enough to simmer her blood and warm her body.
Whimpering calls of his name—both of them—fell from her lips. Her breasts heaved under her bra, heart pounding just as hard. Her fingers lagged around her clit as her hips bucked upwards into her hand. Her folds grew impossibly slick, her insides clenching around nothing. Especially when she heard the responding moans from Harry on the other end.
It took effort to peel her eyes open, to look at her own show playing on her phone screen. 
Harry was cumming, his hand still tight around his cock. Ropes of his release spurted from his tip, dripping down to his stroking hand. Deep, heavy moans fell from his lips. (Y/N) could only imagine the way he looked with his lips parted, eyes shuttered closed with his hair a messy halo around his head. How it would feel to have her head against his chest, feeling the vibrations of his voice under her ear. 
Aftershocks wracked through her body as she watched him. More and more clarity streaked through her head as she watched his own comedown begin. Through the camera, she could see the way his strokes began to slow, hand shaking as he loosened his grip. Small dribbles were all that remained of his release before he hissed, removing his hand completely. 
(She wasn't going to say it now, but she felt a bit... sad to know that the slick release covering his hand was going to be washed away. She would have cleaned him up better). 
Her own hand retreated from between her legs. Her legs moved to close around the phantom touch that had her insides pulsing. She wondered if Harry was able to see the glistening slick over her fingers before she turned the camera back around. 
"Harry?" 
It took a bit, a lingering pause with heavy breaths before Harry followed suit. 
"Sorry," he murmured, his face flushed as he blinked his eyes open, "Are y'alright, love?" 
Nestled amongst the sheets that still smelled of him, (Y/N) felt a dazed smile touch her lips. 
"I'm good. Are you okay?"
"'M alright," he confirmed, a subtle grin matching hers. "That was a lot, huh?"
She suddenly felt shy. As if this was the most scandalous thing they've ever gotten up to. 
"A little. But, good, right?" 
"Good. Really good," he cemented, a light in his eyes, "Not what I thought we were going to do tonight, but worth it." 
(Y/N) hummed. "I just wanted help picking out an outfit." 
A loud laugh bubbled from her love. "Well, at least y'know my favorite." 
Rolling her sheets, legs still a bit sticky, (Y/N) could only mimic the smile on his face. "I guess so. But I don't know if I can wear that if that's how it made you feel." 
"Maybe not," he prattled, "Might have to be something just for the two of us." 
"Maybe," she sighed. 
On her phone, she watched Harry's eyes grow heavy. Once glance at the time showed her how late the night had grown while they were busy. All after the long day Harry had gone through. 
"Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?" she asked, her voice decidedly quieter and more even than just moments before. 
"Probably," Harry hummed, a lazy smile pulling his lips, "Are you tired?" 
"A little. I still need to clean up, but you know me." 
"Don't I ever," he teased, affection swimming in his gaze, "Only two more sleeps, sweetheart." 
"Two more sleeps," she repeated, a sigh fanning from her lips, "I'll talk to you in the morning?" 
"I'll text y'when I wake up," he assured, exhaustion lessening only to make room for the fondness infiltrating his features. "Goodnight, baby. Love you." 
"Love you, too, H." 
The last thing she saw was the loving smile on his face before the screen cut back to their messages. It made her skin warm seeing the last few texts they shared. Everything always seemed a little bit silly once that cold clarity hit. 
Not that she would change a single moment, of course. Though she didn't see the photo thing becoming the norm between them, it definitely didn't seem so scary with Harry on the other end. 
It felt... nice, even. Even without her right in front of him, Harry still was the most loving, most affectionate. He was miles and miles away and she was still the most appealing thing to him. After a long day, she was the one he wanted to see.
Biting her bottom lip between her teeth, she pulled up the keyboard one more time. 
     you can save that video btw !
—————
(Y/N) practically bounced in her spot, eyes fixed to the front door and Evie in her arms. 
He should be back at any second. 
Like, now.
... Or, now.
Her lips thinned. Evie wriggled in her arms. 
Maybe, now?
A chirping meow left Evie. 
"I know, I know," (Y/N) murmured, "As soon as daddy's home, I'll feed you, okay? He should be home in just a second, Ev—"
The sound of the doorknob turning plucked her attention. Even Evie turned to see what was going on. Finagling out of her arms, the kitten rushed towards the door, large eyes directed upwards, waiting for her dad to appear. 
Pushing open the door, Harry was revealed, in a comfortable all black outfit with the hood of his sweatshirt draped over his head. Just as she pictured, he still had gum being chewed between his molars. His eyes were tired, though there was a spark that filtered through his gaze when he saw the tiny creature at his feet. 
"Hi, Ev," he murmured, duffle bag dangling over his shoulder as he bent down to pet between her ears. "I missed you so much, little." 
(Y/N) smiled at the affectionate tone of his voice, her hands clasped into a bundle under her chin. 
Harry lingered with his cat for only a second before he peeked up at her. Right where she was perched on the arm of the couch, a silky short dress clinging to her form. Stockings on her legs. 
"Hey, you."
Launching herself at him, (Y/N) flung her arms around his neck. Harry didn't hesitate before he reciprocated her hold, caging her to his c test with the bar of his arms around her back. Lifting her feet off the floor, he tucked his head into her neck, twirling her with the tips of her toes grazing the floor. 
"I missed you," she murmured, taking in the perfume of his scent. The sheets were beginning to dull, and while she had the full-size of his cologne in their bathroom, it didn't have the same notes that his skin, his laundry, his hair had. It didn't smell the same without the warmth of him underneath.
Harry pulsed his arms around her, the muscles blocking out of his body keeping her steady in his hold. "I missed you too, baby. Next time, you're coming with me, okay? We'll figure something out for Evie and your classes." 
"Okay," she blindly agreed, nodding her head in his neck, "I'm coming with you." 
Taking in a deep breath, Harry shifted his hold on her until he had an arm barred around the back of her thighs. It took a tap of his fingers on the plush skin, the strip between the hem of her nightdress and the lace of her stockings, to get to wrap her legs around his hips. Armed with both his duffle and his love, he started towards their bedroom. 
"Wanna shower with me first, or should we do that after?" 
"After?" 
She felt the breath of his laughter fan across her bare shoulder. 
"After I keep my promise. Y'didn't wear all this for nothing, right?"
(Y/N) only locked her ankles around his back. 
"Shower after." 
His hand shifted, giving her backside a small swat. 
"That's what I thought." 
—————
this has been a long time coming so I hope everyone likes how it turned out! thank you sooooo much for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and pleaseee if you have anything fun like an idea or request pleaseee send it in!
1K notes · View notes
gyeomsweetgyeom · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Jaehyun ⋆⭒˚.⋆
idol!Jaehyun x f!famous!reader
summary: you and Jaehyun are paired up for an interview. You should know what texting your boyfriend is like, right?
(cw: f!reader, famous!reader)
"Hi," Jaehyun greets the camera, "this is the perfect opportunity to catch up on some music." He settles into the plush pink chair while he fits the headphones over his ears.
His music begins to play while you enter the set and greet the camera which prevents him from hearing who his mystery partner might be. You pop your earbuds in and explain your screen name, "I chose Cupid because I like to set my friends up and help them in their relationships."
The camera cuts to Jaehyun who stares blankly at the camera, "I choose Valentine, because I was born on Valentine's day."
You settle into the chair and make yourself comfortable while your partner for the video begins messaging you. Whoever it is is very proper, uses all the right punctuation and is straightforward. Your eyes widen at the camera, speaking through the music playing through your earbuds, "is this an old man? Am I texting someone's grandpa?"
The staff bursts out laughing and you decide to text your exact question. Jaehyun's eyes widen and he can feel his ears heat in embarrassment beneath the head phones. He texts back with a slight pout on his face, "No, I'm not a grandpa."
You text back and forth for a while, talking about your hobbies, your MBTI, and just trying to make small talk. When you make a joke he doesn't respond with any laughs or emojis, when you try to make more conversation, he responds with short answers. You lean back in your chair, with a huff, "this person is not very fun. It has to be an old man. He doesn’t get any of my jokes!”
The staff prompts you both to send a picture of your home screens. You had recently updated it knowing that you were doing the interview and you and Jaehyun liked to keep your relationship private. Yes, it was known and public, but that didn't mean you were both open to sharing every little aspect, or really any details. Maybe one day you would both be open to sharing everything, but that day was not today.
You quickly take a screenshot of your screen which happens to be a couple folders of your apps and a widget of some picture you had found on Pinterest against the background of some flowers outside your favorite cafe.
Jaehyun perks up a little bit, "I think this looks familiar. I recognize the chairs and words on the wall, even though I can't really see it. Maybe it's one of the members?"
You study the picture sent to you with your brows furrowed as you zoom in and study the apps and the picture, "this looks so familiar to me. It looks like a restaurant in Jeju I was at a few weeks ago, I could be wrong. Let me ask."
The staff struggles to muffle their laughs at yours and Jaehyun's joint confusion. Of course, the pictures looked familiar to each of you, you were together, and had been to these places together.
You continue to text back and forth for a while, finally getting somewhere when he starts to show a little more personality and send some memes in response to your texts. He seemed to be a pretty funny guy, ultimately making you decide it was not an old man you were texting, just someone more proper and maybe old-er.
When it comes time to have you both send your recent food orders, Jaehyun pouts and furrows his brows as he studies the recent orders you'd sent him. There were 3 recent orders, 2 were for 2 people, and the last one was for a larger group. The orders looked familiar, one order for pizza and the other for ramen. It was food he had recently eaten and as hard as he tried to remember he couldn't remember who he had eaten the food with. His schedule had been so packed lately, everything was jumbled up in his head. "It has to be one of my members," he decides out loud.
You study the screenshot sent by "Valentine" while biting your lip, one of the orders was what you had eaten yesterday. A small voice in the back of your head was telling you it was your boyfriend, but he told you he was doing talk shows and variety shows today. This wasn't considered either right? Does he really text like this and you’ve never noticed? Surely, you know what your own boyfriend texts like, right?
You both continue chatting and whoever it is makes you laugh pretty hard at some points when your partner says something stupid or sends a dumb meme. You laugh especially loud, choking on your spit when he sends you a drawing of what he thinks you look like.
You have tears in your eyes and warm cheeks as you stare at a poor drawing of what looks like a boy, freckles, huge eyes, big smile. Your eyes dart from the screen of your phone to the lens of the camera, “wh- he thinks I’m a boy? This doesn’t even look like a person who actually exists!”
Jaehyun on his own side bursts out laughing after zooming in and looking at every detail of the picture, “there are wrinkles on this drawings face. And it’s bald. He thinks I’m an old man, so weird.”
As the time winds to an end you look at the staff behind the camera, somewhat shocked and saddened by the end. "Time flew by!" you scrunch up your face as you think, "I don't think I have a really good read on who it is. I think it's a man that's older than me and probably someone in the music industry since he related to so much. Maybe he's a dancer or producer of some kind."
On the other side Jaehyun is set on who he thinks it is, "it's one of my members, I know it. I think it's Jungwoo or Haechan."
You both stand and turn to face your partners. Upon catching sight of Jaehyun, you immediately scream and run behind the set laughing while screaming, "you told me you had variety shows today! Go home!"
Jaehyun bursts out laughing, hunched over as his cheeks flush, "you didn't tell me either! Get back here!"
Your voice comes out loudly paired with your surprised and embarrassed laughter, "No! I'm so humilated!"
The staff manages to get you both together for the ending conversation. The cameras start filming and you smack Jaehyun's forearm lightly, "you are a horrible texter."
"What did I even say?" He laughs in shock.
"I never realized how boring you are through words, you text like an old man."
Jaehyun answers the staff as they ask how you both possible couldn't pick up on each other through the texts. Jaehyun looks at the camera while he answers, his hand holding yours beneath the tall table, "I think texting is so boring and annoying. We call each other or video call. If we open our messages we use voice notes, we very rarely actually text each other.
You squeeze his hand under the table, eyeing him with a mischievous look, “who did you think I was? You thought I was a boy, who did you have in mind?”
Jaehyun rubs his free hand over his face, already regretting his guess, “before I tell you, you have to understand my thinking. Jeno and Chenle did one of these interviews together so I just figured it could be another member. I thought you were Jungwoo or Haechan.”
You guffaw, a shocked laugh leaving you as you pull your phone out and pull up the drawing he had sent you, “this is what Jungwoo or Haechan look like to you?”
“I’m not an artist! Well, not that kind of artist, but I think it’s pretty good. I even added teeth in the smile.”
“Babe, that’s creepy.”
“Who knew you were such an art critic all of a sudden?” He playfully asks with a bobble of his head.
The staff subtly tell you both to wrap it up, reminding you to take a selfie before ending the video. You catch the cues and smile at Jaehyun, “we’ve been together for a while now but I feel like I learned a lot about you today. You text like an old man, you can’t draw, and you have a horrible memory.”
“Hey! You didn’t know who I was either! The food orders didn’t give anything away?”
“We’re talking about this later,” you decide to reply as you lift your phone to take a selfie.
“Wait, lift it to this angle,” Jaehyun instructs as he gently moves your arm.
“Wow, so bossy,” you mumble jokingly as you snap the picture.
The screen goes black with the selfie of you and Jaehyun with matching bright smiles on your faces as yours and Jaehyun’s laugh transition into the ending of the video.
1K notes · View notes
saintobio · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
sincerely yours. (11)
Tumblr media
↳ gojou satoru/reader
when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 
genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 
tags/warnings. depression, cheating, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships
notes. 12k wc. we're so close to the finale <3 thanks so much for the continued support and for the patience you guys have with this series :')
Tumblr media
series masterlist -> episode twelve
Tumblr media
For better and worse. 
Weddings are funny things. Despite the strict adherence to ceremonial traditions, they didn’t guarantee a happily ever after. Exchanging vows and the signing of marriage certificates could become meaningless when a couple faces challenges that would drive them apart. Consider the high-profile divorces of Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, Jennifer Garner and Ben Affleck, or Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise. Divorce had become so common that it almost seemed inevitable for many couples, even the ones with the most fairytale-like relationships. No one was safe from the idea of a divorce. So, was having a wedding really that important? Would it really define the quality and longevity of a relationship?
Satoru might have been thinking bitterly about it, given that his own marriage wasn’t exactly a shining success. However, he was also being rational when he said that weddings weren’t necessary to prove your love for each other. Early in his marriage, he certainly wasn’t the best husband, but over time, he learned to genuinely become a good partner to his ex-wife. There was no specific time frame for loving someone. You could be together for weeks, months, or years, yet the depth of love you share might remain unchanged. This constancy can be either a blessing or a curse, depending on how deep your love was from the beginning.
Well… On the topic of marriages, Satoru had no good thing to say. But that didn’t mean he shouldn’t participate in it. Weddings were still considered a special celebration for families and close friends, and He would be selfish not to share in such a beautiful event with his best friends. Besides, wasn’t it always expected that Suguru and Shoko would end up marrying each other? They were lucky—fortunate because their marriage was built on a foundation of genuine love. In contrast, Satoru’s marriage began out of convenience, which ultimately led to all the terrible things that followed.
As the best man, Satoru strode confidently alongside Suguru down the aisle, both adorned in princely tuxedos, drawing the eyes of the guests as they followed their procession. There were teasing remarks, smiles all around, and even a comment from one of the groom’s female cousins about how handsome they both looked. Despite the gentle commotion, Satoru understood why Suguru remained nervous as they reached the end of the aisle. He comfortingly stood by his side, offered a reassuring pat on the back, silently communicating to his best friend that everything would be alright.
“Don’t tell me you’ll back out now,” Satoru jested, whispering in Suguru’s ear as they observed the guests entering in accordance with the processional order.
Suguru, with his once long hair now neatly trimmed and slicked back, cleared his throat in an attempt to appear less anxious. “What if she gets cold feet?” 
Gojou couldn’t help but tease. “Shoko? You really think she’d have cold feet?” he chuckled. “She’d be the one dragging your ass back to this garden if you tried to run away.”
“Fair enough.” 
Just the night before, they had checked into the Hoshinoya Fuji to celebrate Suguru's last night of freedom. While there was drinking involved, one of the groomsmen insisted it wouldn’t be a proper bachelor’s party without some female company. So, inevitably, there were women in the hotel room, one of whom even gave Suguru a lap dance even though he showed no interest whatsoever. It was amusing to Satoru, considering his best friend used to be the biggest casanova, and now he was a committed and loyal man who, not only was terrified out of his wits on his wedding day, but was also afraid that the one woman he loved might run away from him.
Such genuine, pure love. 
As Satoru pondered, his gaze landed on Akemi, who was seated a couple of rows back among the other guests. She had just arrived, her hair tied elegantly in a low ponytail and her silky sage dress accentuating her womanly figure flawlessly. She was wearing the diamond Tiffany & Co. earrings he had gifted her, which made her stand out among the rest of the people in that garden. Their eyes also met at the perfect moment, her gaze sparkling upon seeing Satoru in his tuxedo. He offered her a smile, one that silently conveyed ‘I’ll be there with you later,’ and she immediately understood. 
How fortunate was Satoru to have her? Perhaps the reason for her late appearance was because she had been looking after Sachiro back home, fulfilling the duties that his ex-wife should have been doing. She was truly a mother who stepped up, especially during a time when both he and his son felt most abandoned.
And what about you? Who knew if you would even attend the wedding? You were meant to be Ieiri’s maid-of-honor, yet you were conspicuously absent. Perhaps you were still in Monaco, enjoying your time playing house with Toji, making a wedding like this seem insignificant to you. You would have informed Miwa in advance and picked up Sachiro if you had returned to Tokyo, right? Suguru also hadn’t mentioned anything about your arrival at the accommodation, hinting that someone else would have to step in as Shoko's maid-of-honor.
But who would it be? Shoko’s cousin? One of her other female co-workers? Her high school friend? 
“Look, mom! She’s beautiful~”
Satoru was rendered speechless, utterly captivated by the sight before him. His fingers tingled with anticipation, his heart raced in his chest, his feet felt rooted to the ground, and his eyes remained fixed on the next lady gracefully making her way down the aisle. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what struck him the most: was it the sight of you in a stunning light green dress, resembling an angel descended from the heavens, or was it the haunting reminder of his own wedding day, when you walked down the same aisle as his most beautiful bride?
His breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening with each step you took down the aisle. Satoru felt like a statue, frozen in place, unable to tear his gaze away from you. You had become the sole focus of his attention, the rest of the world fading into a blur around him. He couldn’t comprehend it. Why was it so effortless for him to let his guard down around you?
This woman, he thought. This woman is Sachiro’s mother. This was the same woman that carried his flesh and blood for nine months, now appearing as radiant as a freshly bloomed flower, as if untouched by the stresses of unexpected motherhood. What had transpired in Monaco to transform you into this vision of beauty?
“You’re drooling.” Suguru nudged him on the chest. “This isn’t your wedding. You had your chance.” 
Yes, he was well aware. This wasn’t his wedding, and he needed to maintain composure. Yet, it felt as though he was being drawn inexorably towards the mesmerizing goddess before him. With each beat of his heart quickening, he struggled to remind himself: No, Satoru. She's nothing to you now.
And because he was lost in a trance, he remained oblivious to the bride’s entrance and even Suguru’s emotional reaction to seeing his bride. His attention was solely fixated on you as he stole glances your way whenever he could. It wasn’t until the exchanging of rings, when you two had to stand side by side to assist the bride and groom, that he snapped back to reality. With you so close yet seemingly distant, Satoru felt a pang of disappointment as you never returned his gaze. The whispers and side comments from the guests also added to his discomfort, making him acutely aware of the scrutiny placed upon the best man and maid-of-honor.
“Aren’t they divorced?”
“Yeah, their marriage was a wreck.” 
“They’re bad luck. I hope they don’t pass it onto the couple.”  
For the first time in a long time, Satoru was gripped by an unprecedented desire to retort, to refute the misconceptions surrounding his marriage. Yet, he knew it was futile. Engaging in a verbal sparring match with another guest would only ruin his best friends' special day. Moreover, he might risk causing unintentional hurt to Akemi by defending a marriage that had long ceased to exist. So, despite the internal turmoil, he remained silent, allowing the whispers to persist unchecked.
And, with that, the wedding ceremony ended. Shoko and Suguru were now declared husband and wife. 
— — 
The reception was a time for socializing, enjoying drinks and hors d’oeuvres, and congratulating the newlyweds. For Suguru and Shoko, this part of the celebration felt effortless and their energies were seamlessly complementing each other’s. Unlike arranged marriages, there was no sense of haste or coercion; theirs was a union born of genuine affection. You couldn’t help but feel foolish for ever entertaining the notion that this was merely a conventional wedding experience. Here, before your eyes, unfolded a true celebration of love between two people.
Did Satoru share the same sentiments? You wondered what thoughts raced through his mind during the proceedings. Did the event trigger memories of his own past, or stir feelings of longing for what could have been?
You refused to subject yourself to the torment of dwelling on your past. If anything, your time living alone in Monaco had been a crucial step in your healing journey. While the process was far from complete, that solitary retreat had provided a much-needed respite from the source of your stress. It afforded you the opportunity to contemplate the life you were destined to lead, albeit alone for the foreseeable future.
By allowing Sachiro to spend more time with his father, you not only facilitated the rebuilding of their fractured relationship, but also acclimated your child to your absence. It was a necessary adjustment, one that would prepare him for the reality of your impending solitary existence. At least, Sachiro had a chance to live in a loving household with Satoru and Akemi, instead of a miserable and lonely way of living together with you. 
In the end, it was all for your child. 
As for the potential emotional minefield of attending this wedding, you were there for Shoko, who had always been a steadfast and understanding presence in your life. Her genuine friendship meant more to you than mere familial bonds ever could. Even at the risk of stirring up unhealthy emotions by being in a room full of people who hurt you, you couldn’t bear to disappoint Ieiri. 
Admittedly though, navigating the wedding crowd was a delicate balance of warmth and formality. Ieiri’s side of the family, who were doctors heavily acquainted with your family, greeted you with genuine warmth. While Suguru’s relatives, who were more closely tied to the Gojou family, maintained a polite distance. Although there were occasional moments of discomfort, you knew how to maintain composure throughout. 
As for Toji’s absence, while a part of you wished he could have been there as a supportive presence, you also recognized the value in learning to handle situations involving your ex-husband independently. He had an unavoidable business trip, but that also provided an opportunity for you to stop relying on him and navigate such occasions like these on your own. He was nothing more than a friend now. 
While that ex-husband, Satoru, was here with your best friend. It didn’t surprise you that he had brought Akemi as a plus one. In fact, you had expected it to happen. It just wasn’t the best feeling to be the maid-of-honor when the best man clearly had another lady for it in mind. 
It was quite amusing, too. Not once had Akemi approached you during the reception. You understood that she wanted to keep her distance, but you found it disrespectful that she was ignoring your existence. Was she scared to talk to you? Scared of what you had to say? You had heard over a million hurtful things from other people, yet she was afraid to hear a few pieces of advice from you?  
Forget it. Forget her and Satoru. Focus on the reception, Y/N. 
But really, how could you? As the moment arrived for the newlyweds’ first dance, tradition dictated that the best man and maid-of-honor should also take to the floor. You sensed the tension in the air as Satoru hesitated, surrounded by urging groomsmen, deciding whether or not he should ask you for a dance. He looked like he was battling with what was right and wrong in his mind, yet ultimately he chose to pass by you, extending his hand to Akemi instead.
It wasn’t feelings of shame that slapped you to reality. It was seeing Satoru holding Akemi’s hand, another on her waist, as they slowly danced to Can’t Help Falling In Love, a song that was played on your wedding day. 
Take my hand
Take my whole life too
Oh, for I can’t help
Falling in love with you
It shouldn’t hurt anymore. You were doing better. You were doing so good, you were doing… you were okay. You should be okay. Or did you overestimate your emotions a little too much? Because this, seeing the man you loved with all your heart holding another woman in his arms, was tortuous to your soul. You could feel the pains of your past tugging at your heart, wondering why he never danced like that with you on your wedding day? Why he never stared at you like you were the most beautiful girl in the world, why he never showed you off in a room full of curious people, why he never respected you enough to treat you with such… with such love. 
“Everything okay?”
You didn’t expect Nanami, out of all people, to be offering you a handkerchief. You hadn’t even realized that your eyes were already pooling of the tears if he had not cut you out of trance, offering a comforting and sympathetic smile. You had to blink multiple times just to push your tears back in. 
“Yeah,” you answered with a grateful expression. I’m strong. I’ll be fine. “Thank you.” 
Nanami took that as a sign to offer his hand. “Care for a dance, then?” 
Wiping your eyes, you nodded, smiling at the man. “Why not?” 
After the dance, the reception continued as follows. The cake cutting, the dinner service, then the toasts and speeches. If it wasn’t for Nanami, you wouldn’t have been able to pick yourself back up after the humiliation of seeing Satoru and Akemi dancing together. You just needed a decent amount of air to breathe and gather yourself together again. It was a nice help from someone who wasn’t a personal acquaintance of yours, that despite being Satoru’s right hand man in the company, Nanami still had some kindness in him that you would forever be thankful for. 
And when it was time for you to do your speech as the MOH, you didn’t let a single vulnerable emotion slip out of you. For that short moment, you tried not to think about who was in the audience, about what they thought of you, and about what other preconceived notions they had of you. You focused on the newlyweds as you stood in front of the mic stand, eye-to-eye with Shoko and Suguru, who were holding each other’s hands. 
“Shoko,” you began, smiling genuinely at the couple, “Through the laughter and tears, you’ve been my constant, my confidante, my rock. And today, as I watch you embark on this new chapter of your life, I’m honestly a bit overwhelmed with emotion.” 
The bride returned your smile, and you can tell Shoko was holding back tears of her own as she glanced between you and Satoru. 
You continued your speech, observing Suguru’s supportive gesture towards his wife as you spoke. “Shoko, I recall our late-night conversations, the tears shed over broken marriages, and the pain of shattered relationships. Yet, through it all, you’ve remained steadfast in your belief in love, in hope, in the possibility of a happily ever after.” Turning to Suguru, although he still had that lingering discomfort around you, you offered him nothing but heartfelt words. “As I look at you and Suguru, I’m reminded that true love exists—a love that is patient, kind, and enduring. My wish for you both is a lifetime filled with laughter, joy, and unwavering support for each other. May you cherish each other’s hearts, protect each other’s dreams, and weather life’s storms together, stronger in your love. Suguru, during your challenging days as a married couple, I pray that you always look at Shoko and remember why you love her. I pray that you will always have the capacity to cherish and respect her as your wife and the future mother of your children. May you keep her in your heart, no matter what challenges may come your way.”
As tears welled in Ieiri’s eyes, your voice faltered, the magnitude of your wishes for their marriage weighing heavily on your own unfulfilled desires. You weren’t trying to make this about you, and you hoped they thought that, too. 
“As I raise my glass to toast this beautiful union,” you said, raising the champagne glass on your hand, “I do so with a heart full of love and a silent prayer—that your love story will be one of triumph, of healing, and of endless happiness. Congratulations, Shoko and Suguru!”
— —
Satoru was deeply affected by your speech. Both in good and bad ways. On one hand, he was touched by the sincerity of your words and the genuine wishes you extended to the newlywed couple. On the other hand, he couldn’t shake off the pang of guilt and remorse that accompanied your words, knowing all too well the history behind them. When you expressed your hopes for Suguru to always cherish and respect Shoko, Satoru couldn’t help but reflect on his own behavior during your marriage and the ways in which he may have fallen short.
Each action he did definitely had a lasting impact on you. 
But what about the good ones? Had you forgotten about the times he treated you well? Had you forgotten the lengths he took just to prove to you that he was a changed man? That at one point in his life, he would do everything in him just to show you how much he loved you? 
It was unfair. Why did you only ever look at the bad things he did and never the good ones? Why did you still see him as a villain in your marriage when he knew he had paid his dues after he lost you?
It was truly, honestly unfair, that you get to be happy with Toji, but he ought to feel guilty for being with Akemi. 
“I think they’re about to do the bouquet and garter toss,” spoke Akemi, tugging at Satoru’s arm while they sat on their designated table. She held a napkin on her other hand to wipe her partner’s chin, smiling in excitement. “You should go and join.” 
Where were you? After your speech, Satoru couldn’t seem to find you anymore. Where had you gone off to? Did you leave already? 
“Y-Yeah,” Satoru answered, looking around the venue before turning to Akemi. “What about you? Won’t you join the bouquet toss thing?” 
She shook her head, hesitantly. “Isn’t it only for bridesmaids?” 
He grabbed her hand and urged her up. “No, it’s for all unmarried female guests. Come on.” 
The reason Satoru dragged her along was because Akemi loved weddings, and she especially enjoyed the traditions that came with it. She herself once dreamt about the picture perfect wedding, but never got to fully have her own, so attending such occasions made up for the lack of personally experiencing it. 
Gojou couldn’t exactly remember if he did the garter toss in his own wedding. If so, who had caught it? Who had caught your bouquet? His eyes swept across the entire venue once more, searching for your familiar figure among the guests. He was too occupied to realize that Shoko had already tossed her bouquet, and the frenzy of eager ladies ensued until it landed in Akemi’s hands.
He genuinely felt happy for Akemi. The joy in her eyes upon catching Shoko’s bouquet was unmistakable. Yet, as the playful teasing about a potential wedding for him shifted in his direction, Satoru couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pressure. It wasn’t supposed to weigh on him like this. It was too soon to have that expectation of him. 
“Looks like someone’s getting married next!”
And while he was feeling suffocated from the pressure placed upon him, the receiver of the tossed garter happened to have been Nanami. 
Immediately, the teasing ensued, with the other guests urging Nanami to wear the garter on Akemi’s leg. Out of respect, Nanami looked at Gojou for permission, but honestly? He was just grateful he didn’t have to do all that and be pressured about another wedding that he had not yet thought about. Fuck it, thank God Nanami had caught the garter because Satoru was sure as hell starting to feel uneasy there. 
“Go for it,” was the only thing Satoru said to Nanami, gesturing his chin at Akemi’s direction. 
While everyone was focused on the situation between Nanami and Akemi, Satoru took that opportunity to escape from the crowd and find his peace at the balcony. He hastily made his way out of the reception hall, feeling a sense of relief as he could finally breathe. 
And there you were, standing alone, lost in contemplation, and your gaze fixed upon the tranquil expanse of the lakeside. The chill breeze caressed your hair softly, as if mirroring the calm that enveloped your countenance. In another universe, this would have been an opportune moment to hug you from behind, sharing the warmth of his embrace around your figure. But he was living in a universe where you and him weren’t meant to be together.
In fact, you were probably thinking about another man as you stared at the lake, hoping that he was there with you. 
“Did you have fun in Monaco with Toji?” Satoru was crazy for going straight to the point, and he knew it was a blunt inquiry, bordering on intrusive, but it tumbled out nonetheless, revealing the thoughts that had been plaguing in his mind. His words spilled out before he could rein them in, a question born of curiosity and perhaps a touch of jealousy.
As for you, with your peace in the balcony now ruined, you briefly opened your mouth to respond, but held back against it as you met Gojou’s eyes with a distant stare. You were even quick to look away and sigh, like he was not worth the conversation. You had not spoken a word to him since the wedding ceremony and you were definitely going to keep doing it. 
And man, did that hurt his ego. 
So, for a very stupid reason, he felt the need to hurt yours in return. “Do you know Sachi calls Akemi ‘mama’ in his sleep?” 
Your eyes remained empty. “Good for you, then. You won’t have a hard time getting him accustomed to it.” 
“Y/N.” Satoru’s voice came out as a warning, and he was about to start an argument on why you were abandoning him and Sachi over Toji, but he was interrupted at the appearance of Akemi carrying Shoko’s bouquet as she tried to search for her lover. This meant that the conversation with the ex-wife was over.
But as he glanced between you and Akemi, his bitter past and his sweet present, why did Satoru’s heart still lingered with you when it shouldn’t?
“You should go,” you briefly muttered, walking in the opposite direction, “Your future wife’s looking for you.”
Satoru’s sudden grip on your wrist halted your steps abruptly. His voice carried a bitter edge as he reminded you of the agreement you had made. “Y/N, we agreed to co-parent Sachiro properly. Why are you choosing Toji over your own son?” 
The accusation left a tense atmosphere, eliciting a sharp response from you as you yanked your hand away, a flash of anger igniting in your eyes. “You have no idea what you're talking about, Satoru.”
— —
“Welcome to Hoshinoya Fuji, Ms. L/N!” 
You stepped out of the car, taking in the serene beauty of the lakeside cabin that would be your sanctuary for the next three days and two nights. Nestled among towering pines and sturdy oaks, the cabin exuded a rustic charm that blended seamlessly with the natural landscape. Its weathered wooden exterior, adorned with a green tin roof, seemed to have grown organically from the earth itself.
The cabin sat on a gentle slope that led directly to the water’s edge. A wooden deck wrapped around the front, offering a perfect vantage point for gazing out over the tranquil lake. Your room also had the best view of Mount Fuji, which you thought was the highlight of this luxurious accommodation. 
After the newlywed send-off, you were quickly ushered in by Shoko and Suguru’s staff, who were in charge of attending to the special guests staying a few extra days at the cabin. Though the couple wouldn’t start their proper honeymoon until their 6-month long cruise trip in two weeks, they wanted their guests to enjoy the accommodations they had arranged. You were relieved to hear that, despite Satoru and Akemi also being among the friends staying, each guest had their own private cabin reserved.
The thing was, you could leave any time if you wanted to. Shoko also reassured you that it would be okay and that she would understand if you wanted to go home right away. She knew that the situation may be uncomfortable for you, and that she felt bad you even had to deal with it during the ceremony, but you made a promise to her. You were her maid-of-honor for a reason, and part of your duty was to help with the post-ceremony tasks to ensure that Shoko can focus on enjoying her pre and post-wedding activities. 
So, in some ways, you felt obliged to stay. You didn’t need to interact much with others during your stay, anyway. You were content staying in your room, perhaps taking some occasional walks outside. Satoru could do whatever he wanted with Akemi; you were determined to avoid crossing their paths.
Besides, inside the cabin was a cozy retreat. The main living area featured large windows that framed the picturesque view, allowing moonlight to spill in and illuminate the space. A stone fireplace, complete with a rustic mantel adorned with pinecones and candles, stood as the centerpiece of the room. Plush armchairs and a worn leather sofa invited relaxation, while a handwoven rug added a touch of warmth and color.
As you moved towards the bedroom, you found a comfortable queen-sized bed covered in a soft, plaid quilt. The scent of pine mingled with the faint aroma of fresh linens, creating an atmosphere of peaceful haven. An old-fashioned dresser and a bedside table, topped with a simple lamp, completed the room. The windows here, too, offered a glimpse of the sparkling lake, ensuring that the beauty of nature would greet you each morning.
Stepping outside, you walked down a short path to the water’s edge, where a small wooden dock extended into the lake. A pair of Adirondack chairs sat invitingly at the end of the dock, perfect for soaking in the sunset or stargazing at night. Nearby, a fire pit surrounded by stones and logs as seating promised cozy evenings under the stars, with the gentle sound of lapping water providing a soothing backdrop.
On your first night there, you ended up falling asleep right away. The physical and emotional exhaustion, combined with jetlag, knocked you out. However, the next day promised a few tasks to complete the post-wedding cleanup. 
The second night, however, was a different story.
When you returned to the cabin, the cool evening air was crisp against your skin. The temperature went down a couple of celsius compared to yesterday, so as you walked down the path toward the lakeside, you were drawn to the flickering glow of a fire pit illuminating the area near the water’s edge. Drawing closer, the soft sounds of laughter and conversation reached your ears, mingling with the gentle crackle of burning logs.
The fire pit was surrounded by a group, their faces lit by the warm, golden light of the flames. They sat on a circle of logs and foldable chairs, leaning in to feel the comforting heat. Some held mugs of steaming cocoa, while others toasted marshmallows on long sticks, their tips glowing bright orange before transforming into gooey, sugary treats.
You paused for a moment and took in the scene. Was it a safe space for you to be in? You noticed familiar faces among the group—some of the couple’s old friends from the wedding, now relaxed and enjoying the peaceful night. One of the guests strummed a guitar softly, the melody adding to the cozy, inviting atmosphere. Another guest told a story, their animated expressions and gestures causing bursts of laughter from the listeners.
There was no sight of Satoru and Akemi. Perhaps, it might be okay to join in.
As you approached, Suguru emerged from a nearby cabin, smiling in a way that felt unusual. Why was he being friendly all of a sudden? Last time you checked, he still held a grudge against you. But now, he showed no signs of antagonism, and was even approaching you with his usual friendly demeanor.
“Y/N,” he said, the fog of his breath visible in the cold air, “I never got to thank you properly for helping us with everything here. I didn’t think you’d make it last minute.”
You wrapped your shawl tighter around yourself to ward off the chill. “It’s no trouble. I’m glad to help out and be here for you guys,” you replied warmly. And while glancing around, you noticed the absence of Shoko. “Where’s the missus?”
Suguru’s smile took on a mischievous edge. “Sleeping. She’s still pretty tired and…”
You interrupted him with a laugh, catching onto his suggestive tone. “Alright, you two. You’re wild.”
His grin softened into a sincere expression. “No, seriously. I never got to properly thank you. I never got to apologize to you either.” Suguru looked down with guilt. “I’m sorry for being an asshole to you. I was focusing too much on Satoru’s point-of-view, dismissing how it must be like to be in your position amidst all that mess. Shoko helped me understand why you made certain decisions, why you had no other option. She helped me see things from your perspective, to realize the extent of your suffering. We all knew that, I guess. We all knew you were constantly dealt a bad hand, yet you remain kind and resilient. You continue to show empathy to others, even when the world hasn’t been fair to you.”
In the ensuing silence, your heart seemed to thunder in your chest. His words carried weight far beyond what he might have intended, and you genuinely appreciated his apology. Even if he didn’t need to say them. 
“I guess what I’m trying to say is, you’re a gem, Y/N.” Suguru gave your back a gentle pat. “You deserve to be happy in your own special way. And just like how you wished us well with our marriage, I hope you’ll find your own path to a happy marriage, too.” 
“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking down with a forlorn smile. 
“We’re here for you, okay?” he offered, “Shoko and I. You can count on us if you need us, if you need help with Sachiro, if you need help with life in general.” 
“I appreciate it, really.” 
And by then, he cleared his throat, opening up a topic that caught you off guard. You didn’t expect it from Suguru out of all people. “Y/N, I know why you were in Monaco.” 
Of course. He’d know it from Shoko. 
“I also know,” he continued, dark narrow eyes staring straight at yours, “why you left Sachiro with his father.” 
You were a deer caught in the headlights. You wouldn’t say it felt invasive to have someone be aware of the reasoning behind your personal decisions, but it was just an altogether different feeling to know that it was your ex-husband’s best friend who knew. 
“Why didn’t you tell him?” he asked, referring to Satoru, “That you broke up with Toji?” 
You took a deep breath. “I don’t see the point of telling him.”
“What if I were to tell you that he’d come running desperately to you the moment he finds out?” he posed another burning question. “You still love him, right? You and him would likely get together without much difficulty if he were aware. So, why hesitate?”
“Because I don’t want that,” you answered, feeling words caught in your throat in a moment of vulnerability. “Because I’m scared to get back with him. Because he has Akemi now. Because I don’t wanna keep ruining the lives of the people around me. We’re better off this way, Suguru. I don’t want to mess up the second time around, and I definitely don’t think Satoru would be able to fully move on with his life with me still in the picture. He seems to be happy with Akemi already.” 
Suguru smiled sadly. “You don’t even wanna get your revenge? Don’t wanna get back at your best friend for dating your ex?” he paused to correct himself, “Well, dating is the wrong term. Satoru insists they’re not exclusive, you know?” 
You shook your head, sighing. Satoru, you haven’t changed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine with the way things are.” 
He was on the verge of continuing, poised to persuade further, but the arrival of the very individuals in question brought an abrupt halt to his words. Descending the cabin steps was Shoko, trailed by Satoru, who, in a gesture of warmth, had draped his jacket around Akemi, with his arms encircling her.
All five of you found yourselves in an awkward situation, now faced with two couples, one of which was at the core of your distress. The tension was palpable, and it didn’t help that Satoru’s vivid blue eyes met yours, seemingly trying to decode the conversation between you and Suguru. That was none of his business. He could continue his affectionate display with Akemi, while you had other matters to attend to than be part of an awkward quintet.
“I should go,” you declared, avoiding eye contact with everyone, unwilling to play the fifth wheel. You were hoping to evade Satoru and Akemi’s presence, but both Shoko and Suguru already caught your arm. 
“Y/N, please,” Shoko urged, her arm reaching out to you. “Don't isolate yourself tonight. Come join us.”
The memory of Bora Bora flooded your mind, a painful reminder of a similar situation when Shoko had extended the same invitation, leading to the discomfort of witnessing Sera’s closeness with Satoru. You knew that wasn’t Shoko’s intention, but it was your ex-husband who couldn’t stop catching himself in these situations. 
This was a bad idea. You knew that. 
So, why did you agree? 
Despite your reservations, curiosity got the best of you. You would vehemently deny it if asked, but deep down, you pondered whether Suguru’s words held any truth about Satoru’s lingering feelings for you. It wasn’t out of pettiness, but rather a desire to confirm if Satoru was truly committed to Akemi. You knew this could potentially hurt you, but after enduring so much pain, you couldn’t imagine anything worse.
“Hey, you guys!” 
“It’s nice of you to join us!” 
“What’s up newlyweds?” 
Upon joining the group at the fireplace, you were partly grateful that you weren’t exactly a fifth wheel in the situation. There were about ten or twelve people in total, with the earlier group still remaining in their seats. It just so happened that you were seated right across your ex-husband, who was too busy trying to keep Akemi warm and cozy. 
“So, Y/N…” spoke a man from the group, who appeared to be Suguru’s colleague. “Are you single?” 
The unexpected question caught you off guard, especially the tension it seemed to create, particularly with Satoru who sat stiffly next to Akemi. Even Shoko and Suguru seemed apologetic for their friend’s behavior, but you brushed it off, recognizing that he had probably indulged a bit too much with beer. He was harmless enough when sober.
“Don’t be asking questions like that,” Suguru intervened, tapping the back of his friend’s head in a playful scold. “That’s rude.” 
The friend protested, still oblivious to the discomfort he had caused. “I was just asking! She’s attractive. I have the right to know.”
You forced a smile, accepting the can of beer he had offered. “Thanks, but I—”
“Even if she’s single, she’s not interested in you,” Shoko chimed in, keeping a casual mien. She had to keep things cool, especially with an explosive Gojou around. You were just thankful that she didn’t exactly reveal the status of your relationship with Toji, and that she was doing her best to divert the attention away from you. 
In this little scene, you caught a glimpse of Akemi tugging at Satoru’s arm, like she was uncomfortable with the conversation. Why? Did it trigger an insecurity within her? She couldn’t even return eye-contact, constantly avoiding your eyes and reacting to any conversation remotely related to you. But Satoru was there acting like a concerned boyfriend, whispering reassurance into her ear, and rubbing her knee in a comforting fashion. 
“You two make a lovely couple,” remarked one of the girls, directing her compliment to Satoru and Akemi.“Weren’t you the girl who caught the bouquet? Looks like there might be another wedding on the horizon.”
“Oooh!” 
“They’re an attractive couple, too.” 
“You guys planning for any children?” 
Just like Bora Bora. A bitter smile lingered on your face, but you decided not to look at Satoru anymore. He must be enjoying this. 
Shoko leaned in and placed an arm around you to whisper her apologies. “I’m sorry, Y/N. This was a bad idea.” 
“It’s okay,” you assured, not wanting to ruin the moment. “I’ll leave after I finish my beer so it won’t be awkward.” 
As the night wore on, conversation flowed easily at first, with everyone exchanging stories and laughter, and eventually more beers and liquor were passed around. Shoko and Suguru were lost in the glow of newlywed bliss, while you found yourself increasingly uneasy as memories of the past mingled with the present.
Satoru’s presence beside Akemi was a constant reminder of your failed marriage, and you struggled to suppress the weakness in your chest that threatened to surface. They held hands and watched the fire together, her head resting on his shoulder, his lips on top of her head. She was trying to voice out a specific concern to him, and he was sweetly listening to her. Did they even realize the ex-wife was in the same area with them? It was insensitive. You never knew Satoru could be this insensitive around you, no matter what his reasons were, his romantic gestures towards her was a clear slap to your face. And he succeeded, because you would be foolish not to admit that it broke your heart in half to witness him choosing another woman over you. 
Again, Satoru. Here we go again. You tried to stop the pounding on your chest. Here we fucking are the second time around. 
Desperate to ease the tension, Shoko and Suguru attempted to steer the conversation toward lighter topics, but their efforts only served to highlight the underlying tension in the air. You forced a smile and nodded along with the conversation, but inside, your heart was heavy with unresolved emotions.
And then someone had to bring up that stupid truth or dare game. 
“Satoru-kun, I dare you to kiss the prettiest woman in this group.” 
“Whoo! Do it! Do it! Do it!” 
Satoru was initially hesitant as he clearly found himself at a crossroads. He had two options here. Should he risk hurting Akemi by refusing to kiss her? Or should he risk hurting you by kissing another woman in front of you?
The clear winner was Akemi, because as soon as Gojou pressed his lips onto hers, you were already walking out of there. You had already excused yourself from the group, your footsteps as heavy as your heart. And unbeknownst to you, Satoru watched you go with a flicker of remorse in his eyes, but it was too late for apologies or second chances. The fire continued to crackle and pop as you left, its flames casting long shadows across the empty space where you had sat.
It was game over. Satoru had won his game. 
— —
Satoru was puzzled by your behavior since the wedding. You seemed determined to avoid him, which made sense with Akemi constantly by his side, but there was also an air of desperation to your avoidance. What baffled him even more was the jealousy you exhibited, as if you weren’t involved with another man, to the point where you even flew to another country just to spend more time with him. 
Like you said, you two were no longer married. It was about time you moved on. Yet, how come you were acting heartbroken over seeing Satoru with another woman?
Did you really think leaving the fire pit so abruptly had gone unnoticed?
Did you really think he had taken his eyes off you?
If not for Akemi telling him that she was having pelvic cramps, Gojou would have run off to follow you the minute you left the fire pit. Clearly, you still had an issue seeing him with another girl and he wanted you to voice it out. But if there was anything he learned during your time together, you would never be the first one to admit that you were jealous. Heck, didn’t you even allow him to bring Sera to Bora Bora that one time?
Look, he didn’t want to hurt you all over again. And if you had walked up to him and called him an asshole for having Akemi around, he would even agree with you. But it was your decision to choose Toji, it was your request for Satoru to find someone else, so why did it seem like you were suddenly changing your mind?
“I’m sorry for being a party pooper,” Akemi groaned in discomfort as Gojou helped her back to their cabin. He quickly refocused on their conversation, reminding himself not to dwell on thoughts of you when Akemi needed his attention—it wouldn’t be fair to her. She was suffering from a terrible illness that he wouldn’t wish upon anyone and he had to be her rock. “It’s been hurting quite a bit lately. I really should start with my treatment.”
Once inside their room, he swiftly settled her into bed. “Where does it hurt?” He applied a gentle touch to her pelvic bone, massaging the area to alleviate her discomfort. “Here?”
“Mhm. Thank you,” she lightly spoke, her soft hand caressing his cheek. “I’ll be fine.”
“You look really pale, though. I’m worried,” he remarked, sympathizing with her. Her complexion betrayed the pain she was holding back, though she likely hesitated to admit she wanted to go home and rest. “Do you wanna go home? Even if it’s in the middle of the night, I can have my driver pick us up.”
She shook her head quickly. “No, no. Please, I'll be fine. You won't get to see Shoko and Suguru for a while once they’re on their honeymoon, so I want you to spend time with them here.”
“You sure? But you always come first.” 
“I’ll be okay.” 
As Satoru continued to massage the area where Akemi felt pain, his thoughts inevitably drifted to you. He recalled the time when you were pregnant with Sachiro, experiencing frequent lower abdominal pain as your body adjusted to the baby. Each night, Satoru stayed up, gently rubbing your belly until you drifted off to sleep. It was one of his happiest memories during your marriage—the domestic bliss of being your husband and the memory of him caring for his wife. He wasn’t sure if he was missing it, or if he was just recalling a past memory, but looking at Akemi, Satoru wondered if he was prepared to have all that again but with another woman. 
He couldn’t give himself an answer. 
“I’m such a terrible person.” 
He should be telling himself that, but it was Akemi who said those words out loud as her brown doe-eyes stared at him solemnly, an expression that reflected guilt and remorse in equal measure. 
“How come?” Satoru’s voice was barely above a whisper as he asked, gently tucking the sheets around her while perching on the edge of the bed.
Her smile held a touch of sorrow, yet there was a glimmer of relief in her eyes. “I feel like I’ve failed Y/N. She treated me like family, like a sister, and now I can’t even face her properly. I’m just terrified, you know? I don’t want to keep letting her down. I never meant to cause her pain.”
For a moment, Gojou fell silent at her admission. “It’s all my fault. You two never would have been in this position if it wasn’t for me.” 
“Absolutely not,” Akemi persisted before leaning in to plant a tender kiss on his cheek. “Tonight, you’ve shown me that you’ve truly moved on from her. I was starting to worry, afraid that I could never fill the space she held in your heart. But since the wedding, you’ve never sidelined me or made me feel like an afterthought. You’ve never made me feel like second best. You’ve always prioritized me. I understand it’s hard seeing your ex-wife, but I appreciate your efforts more than you know. You make me feel incredibly special.”
Satoru swallowed hard. The mention of your name sent a pang of guilt coursing through his chest. He knew he had hurt Akemi with his lingering attachment to his past and his inability to fully let go of the woman who had once held his heart in her hands. He wanted to agree with Akemi, to reassure her that he had chosen her, but the truth remained elusive, buried beneath layers of denial and self-deception. He even had to close his eyes for a minute, unable to meet her gaze as a tumult of conflicting emotions swirled within him. He wanted to tell her the truth, to confess the depth of his feelings for his ex-wife, but the words were caught in his throat.
In that moment, Satoru felt more lost and alone than ever before, trapped in a web of his own making, and unable to confront the truth behind his true feelings. Moved on? Had he truly moved on from you, or had he simply buried his feelings beneath a facade of indifference?
“You should rest your eyes,” was the only thing he could tell her, planting a kiss on her forehead before he had turned off the lights. 
With the clock ticking past 11 o’clock and their recent conversation still echoing in his mind, Satoru felt an urgent need for clarity. He knew he had to confront his thoughts alone. So, without disturbing Akemi’s peaceful slumber, he quietly slipped out of the cabin, seeking solace in the night air. Immediately, as he got out, he was met with the apologetic eyes of his best friend. 
“Hey,” Satoru greeted, confused by the urgency in Suguru’s expression. “What’s up?” 
Suguru took a deep breath before he rubbed the back of his head. “There’s something I ought to tell you.” 
— —
You had been standing at the edge of the lake for a while now, the cool night air sending shivers down your spine as you gazed out at the shimmering expanse of water before you. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the tranquil scene, its soft light dancing on the surface of the lake like a thousand tiny stars.
The temptation to dive into the dark waters below tugged at your heart like a siren’s song, beckoning you to leave behind the pain and sorrow that had plagued you for so long. You longed to feel the icy embrace of the lake envelop you, to lose yourself in its depths and wash away the memories that haunted you every waking moment.
Is this how it feels like to finally let go? 
As you stood on the shore, your toes just inches from the water’s edge, a wave of despair then washed over you, threatening to pull you under like the undertow of a riptide. You thought of Sachiro, your sweet, innocent son, asleep in his bed back in Tokyo, his laughter and smiles serving as an antidote to the pain in your heart.
And then him… 
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you thought of Satoru. Despite the pain he had caused you, it was impossible not to yearn for him still, because his memory was a ghost that haunted you in every waking moment. But you knew that you couldn’t continue to live in the shadow of your past marriage. You had to escape being trapped in a cycle of longing and regret. You owed it to Sachiro to be strong, to find the courage to let go of the man who had once been your everything.
With your empty gaze, the calm lake shimmered in the moonlight like a blanket of liquid silver. You had come to the lake seeking solace, seeking escape from the unbearable pain that gnawed at your heart like a relentless tide. But as tears left your eyes, your emotions threatened to drown you in a sea of despair. 
Without hesitation, you dropped your shawl to the side, shedding yourself off of the cloth with a sense of reckless abandon. The fright of swimming in open water, especially at night, could have you passed out in a matter of seconds, but you paid it no mind as you waded into the water. 
Is this how it feels to finally give up? 
The lake embraced you like an old friend, enfolding you in its cool embrace as you swam out into the darkness. Each stroke brought you closer to the center of the lake, closer to the heart of your pain, and yet you felt strangely at peace, as if the water itself held the key to your salvation. You took time floating on your back, staring up at the stars that glittered like diamonds in the night sky, you felt a sense of clarity wash over you. You knew that your love for Satoru was a burden you could no longer bear.
But more than that, you knew that you couldn’t let your own pain dictate the course of your son’s life. Sachiro deserved better than a mother consumed by sorrow, better than a life overshadowed by the ghosts of the past.
With a deep breath, you let go of the pain that had held you captive for so long. You submerged yourself into the depths of the lake, watching as the night sky vanished beneath the surface like a wisp of smoke in the wind.
In that moment, you felt a sense of freedom unlike anything you had ever known. You just had to stay still. You had to keep yourself underwater, hold your breath until you no longer needed it, and… 
And…
You struggled to breathe, your mind consumed in panic telling you that you would die if you had kept yourself submerged for another minute, but you were adamant on staying there. You fought battles in your own mind, despite your body fighting back to keep you alive. 
At least soon, you would finally meet your mom again. 
“...”
“......”
“....Y/N!” 
“.......Y/N!” 
Feeling your vision blur and your limbs growing limp, you surrendered to the natural sway of the water. Bubbles escaped from your nose, your mouth tightly sealed shut. And the next thing you knew, you were back on the water surface, drawing breath like a fish out of the water. You could feel someone tugging at your arm, could feel the presence of another person dragging you out of the water, his arms pulling you into an embrace. 
“Y/N! What the hell are you thinking?!” 
You sobbed uncontrollably, your heartache pouring out as Satoru cradled you in his arms, his white hair damp from his efforts to rescue you from the water. How and when did he arrive? Your mind couldn’t process the details amidst the turmoil. All you could do was surrender to the flood of tears, feeling paralyzed from head to toe as you cried into his embrace.
Is this another dream? 
Is this another hallucination? 
You released a bitter laugh. Please. You closed your eyes, laughing and crying like a mad person. Please stop the pain. 
“Y/N, please,” his whispers were tender, yet tinged with a sorrow that amplified your heartache. “What about Sachiro?” He, too, shed his own tears, his ocean-blue eyes shimmering in the moonlight as they filled with tears, his voice breaking. “What about me?”
Your face was pressed against his chest, anguish coursing through you, feeling as if your very soul was being torn asunder. “Th-That’s the... the same thing... I’ve been asking myself,” you managed between sobs, struggling to draw a steady breath. “I’m... I’m always th-thinking about other people... and never myself.”
He fell silent, his response lost in the weight of your words, perhaps laden with guilt or his own sorrow. But his presence there, holding you close, as if he still harbored love for you, tore another piece from your already battered heart. He shouldn’t be here. He should have been with Akemi. He should be anywhere but near you. With a surge of adrenaline, you began to push him away, propelling yourself through the water, racing toward the shore despite the weakness in your limbs. Satoru called out your name, his voice a desperate plea, as he followed after you, his movements slower but filled with urgency.
“Stop!” Your voice rose, echoing against the night as you stood on the shore, water cascading from your body in sync with the tears streaming down your face. “L-Leave me alone... Please. Why are you here?”
You knew Satoru well enough to understand what had driven him to chase after you. Perhaps he had grown concerned, either from noticing your absence or from someone informing him of your uncharacteristic nighttime swim. His actions were undoubtedly unusual; he knew all too well of your fear of open water, prompting him to leap into action to rescue you.
But you didn’t need him to be here. You didn’t need him anywhere. He wasn’t yours anymore. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice carrying the weight of confusion and concern, his steps cautious as he approached you. He looked at you with tears in his eyes, his expression vulnerable and pleading, like a child seeking comfort, desperately hoping to be understood, to be heard. “You’re not with Toji anymore.”
“Why should I?” You struggled to compose yourself, wiping away the tears that blurred your vision. “It doesn’t matter—”
“It fucking matters, Y/N!”
“It shouldn’t matter!” Your voice cracked with emotion, your heart pounding painfully against your ribs. “Why should it matter, huh?”
“Because I love you!” His words echoed through the night, raw with emotion that had never been confronted until now. “Because I can’t fucking get over you. Because I’m a fool for you!”
You pushed him away, a surge of anger and hurt rising within you. “H-How dare you,” you choked out, your fists trembling as you struck his chest. “How dare you say that to me when you’re with someone else! You n-never truly loved me, Satoru. Y-You never did!”
“You wanted me to find someone new, Y/N,” his voice cracked with emotion, pained by his own words, “I just did what you asked me to do, even if that wasn’t what I truly wanted.” 
You vehemently denied his assertion in your mind, shaking your head in refusal. “Stop saying that. Just stop. Please.”
He already had his grip on your hand, pulling you closer. “Y/N—”
You jerked your hand away sharply, but then a wave of despair washed over you. “Every time I see you with her, I convince myself that I’m fine with it, that this is what I wanted, what I chose.” Tears welled up in your eyes as you recalled every heartbreak. “I tell myself that I deserve it, that you deserve to be with someone who can make you happier. But then I remember our past…” You paused, closing your eyes to stem the tears. “And then I compare it to your relationship with her now. I can’t help but wonder, why didn’t I receive that kind of love and respect from the beginning? Why did it take me nearly drowning in an ocean for you to realize and try to make things right three years ago?”
His grip on your hand tightened, as if he wanted to hold onto you and never let go, as if he wanted to reassure you with his touch that he was there, listening, understanding, feeling every word you uttered.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible amidst the crashing waves and the heavy weight of your emotions. “I’m sorry for everything I did wrong, for every moment I failed to show you the love and respect you deserved, Y/N.”
You hated it. You hated hearing his words now, because it was three years all too late. You had already gone through so much suffering, so much anguish that you didn’t deserve, just because you wanted a happy marriage. Just because you wanted to love and be loved. By him. By the person you married. 
“It d-doesn’t change anything,” you murmured, your voice breaking with sorrow. “I can’t undo the pain, the heartache. I can’t erase the memories.”
“I know,” he replied softly, his eyes filled with remorse. “But let’s try again. Let me try again, Y/N. Please.”
You wanted to believe him, to believe that he meant every word, that he was sincere in his intentions. But the wounds of the past were still fresh, and the memories of betrayal were still lingering in your mind.
“You know what hurts me more?” you asked, “It’s the fact that you didn’t lose your memories of me, but you still ended up falling for her,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Satoru’s silence felt like a confirmation to you. Perhaps he had indeed fallen in love with Akemi, and you were the obstacle standing in the way of his complete commitment to her. You were just a relic of his past, a piece that he needed to discard in order to embrace his future with Akemi. It seemed that fate had already decided that you and Satoru would never find happiness together, and this should serve as nothing more than a closure. 
But god be damned, it was tearing you apart. 
You tugged at the necklace around your neck, the pendant bearing half of his heart, and in your trembling hand, you ripped it off. As painful as it was, your next action was to hurl it into the darkness of the lake, discarding the last remnant that linked him to you, watching as it disappeared beneath the surface of the lake with a soft splash.
You know the difference between us, Satoru? You thought silently. I dove into the ocean just to find our wedding ring, but you would never plunge into that lake to retrieve that necklace.
With determined steps, you turned away before he could react, walking away from that place, walking away from him. You resolved that this would be your final encounter with Satoru Gojou in your lifetime, because there was no need for him in your life, just as he no longer needed you in his. You two would remain in the past, a memory best left behind.
This was you letting him go. 
But then, just as you were about to walk away, you heard a faint noise from the darkness behind you—a splash, followed by the sound of another frantic splashing.
Your heart pounded heavily in your chest. You turned back toward the lake, your eyes widening in shock as you saw Satoru thrashing in the water, his arms flailing as he searched desperately for the necklace you had thrown away.
“Satoru, you idiot!” you cried out, your voice filled with disbelief and concern and pain and overwhelming heartache. Without a second thought, you ran back to the cold water, your feet sinking into the soft sand as you waded into the lake. “Satoru, what are you doing?!” you called out again, your heart racing as you reached out to him, your fingers brushing against his arm as he struggled to stay afloat.
“I have to find it,” Satoru gasped, his voice strained with exertion. “I have to find the necklace you threw.”
Your breath caught in your throat as you looked into his eyes, seeing the desperation and determination that burned within them. You knew then that you couldn’t let him risk his life for a piece of jewelry, no matter how sentimental it may be.
“Satoru, please,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion. “It’s not worth it. Let it go—”
But Satoru shook his head, his gaze fixed on the dark waters below. “I have to find it," he insisted, his eyes tearful. “It’s my heart. I gave it to you.”
 I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. 
The tension between you crackled like electricity in the air. In that moment, all of your walls came crashing down, your heart laid bare before the man you had once loved with all your soul.
With tears streaming down your cheeks, you reached out and pulled Satoru into your arms, your lips meeting his in a desperate, longing kiss. It was a kiss filled with years of pent-up emotion, a bittersweet union of love and pain that left you both breathless and raw. Your lips moved together in a tender dance, each kiss a silent plea for forgiveness, for understanding, for a second chance at the love you had lost. It was a kiss that spoke of regrets and what-ifs, of dreams left unfulfilled and promises broken.
For years, you had been strangers, your hearts closed off to each other in an attempt to shield yourselves from the pain of your past. But in that moment, as you clung to each other in the darkness, you couldn’t deny the truth that still lingered between you—that your love for each other had never truly died.
As you finally pulled apart, gasping for air, you looked into Satoru’s eyes, seeing the depth of his pain mirrored in your own. “I hate you,” you whispered, your voice laced with grief and surrender, "so much."
Satoru reached out and brushed a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle and tender. “I hate me, too,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes shining with guilt, “for hurting you.”
You couldn’t erase the past, nor could you predict the future. But as you stood together in the middle of the lake, your hearts entwined once more, you found solace in the simple act of being together, of sharing your pain and your love in the darkness of the night. And as you held each other tight, the gravity of your connection pulled you to kiss him again. 
Once more, you met his lips in a deeper kiss. His lips moved in perfect sync with yours, and the taste of his tongue was met with the familiarity you two shared. It was as if your bodies were moving on its own, and you allowed it to dictate whatever action it desired. Forget everything for now, was all you could think of in your head. In your mind, it was all Satoru. It was the man you love. The man you married. The man you share a child with. 
You were too engrossed with the feeling of his lips that you didn’t even realize he had your legs wrapped around his waist. And with your arms around his neck, you could feel him lift you up, never breaking the kiss as he carried you out of the lake. With each step he took, your kiss only got deeper and deeper. You had never felt such intensity throughout your marriage, and you were intoxicated by the feeling of kissing him again. 
Of feeling his lips around your jawline. Your neck. Your chest. You were gasping on his mouth, had his lips completely enveloped with yours, not realizing you were stumbling inside your cabin, desperate to find somewhere to lay on. 
And before you knew it, the night had played way differently than expected.
Both your wet clothes were on the floor in a tangle of fabric, forgotten in the heat of your passion. And now, with your bare body on top of him. His arms caressed the smooth skin of your back, his lips feathering kisses along your bust. As you moved your hips slowly, you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips. Satoru’s member was warm inside you. Your bodies were tingling from the intensity of your lovemaking in the dimly lit room. And when you pulled away, your eyes were locked in a silent exchange of yearning.
Without a word, Satoru reached out and gently cupped your breast, his touch sending electricity down your spine. You leaned into his touch, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you felt the heat of his body pressing against yours.
Your lips met once more, a tender exploration of each other’s mouths, and he was taking that chance to shift the position you were in. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he began to enter you again. You were whimpering under him, melting into his passionate movements. You have had sex with Satoru multiple times before, but it was never this emotional. It was never this passionate. You could feel the difference with the way he kissed you, with the way he looked at you, with the way he touched you. 
“S-Satoru—!” 
“Mmm… I missed you so fucking much, Y/N.”
And then, finally, you came together in a flurry of hands and lips and skin, your bodies melding into one as you gave yourselves over to the exquisite pleasure of your lovemaking. 
At that exact moment, as you moved together in perfect harmony, you knew that you were home.
— —
When Akemi woke up, she could tell something felt wrong. 
It didn’t help that Satoru was not by her side as she opened her eyes, blinded by the sunlight that peeked through the window. Was he out for a morning run? Or perhaps he was indulging in a leisurely bath? She entertained the idea of joining him, wanting to express her gratitude for his care and support.
Her heart swelled with love for him, despite all the risks and uncertainties. He was her rock, her confidant, her everything. In him, she found solace and strength, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him. Despite the troubles of his past, she felt blessed to have crossed paths with him. She longed for the kind of deep connection and lasting commitment that she saw in others’ marriages, a dream she harbored for her own future. And in Satoru, she saw the perfect partner to share that dream with, to build a family and a life together that she had always yearned for.
Akemi wasn’t ashamed by how smitten she was with him. In fact, she was beginning to have more confidence in her decision to pursue a relationship with him. She just hoped you would understand, that you would eventually let go of the grudge in your heart. At the end of the day, she wasn’t trying to hurt you. She was only trying to pursue her happiness. 
And the exact source of her happiness was someone she endeavored to find that morning. She put on a robe and searched every room in the cabin, calling out for his name, wondering why she couldn’t hear his voice. 
With no response forthcoming, Akemi decided to exit the cabin in search of Satoru. Assuming he had likely been with Suguru all night, she scanned the vicinity, expecting to spot his tall, white-haired figure. Yet, after several minutes of fruitless searching, she couldn’t find him and instead, encountered a hotel staff member. That was when she decided to finally inquire about his whereabouts.
“Excuse me,” she began, halting the staff member’s stride, “Have you seen my boyfriend? He’s tall, with white hair and blue eyes.”
“Ah, Mr. Gojou?” the hotel staff responded, scratching her head as realization dawned. She then gestured toward the last place Akemi wished him to be. “Um, I think he’s in there.”
Akemi’s heart raced as if she had seen a ghost. Her complexion drained of color, her heart pounding in her chest as she realized that the cabin she had been directed to was yours. And in a twist of fate, just as she stood there in shock, the man she loved emerged from the cabin, equally wide-eyed.
“‘Kemi…” he began, frozen in place, “Let’s talk first—”
But she cut him off with a scoff. Her hands trembled with a tumult of emotions—anger, pain, and betrayal—threatening to overwhelm her. She was on the verge of collapse, her mind reeling with questions. Was he going to explain his actions? No, there was only one question that demanded an answer.
“Did you… did you do it?” she asked through gritted teeth, her voice laced with accusation.
Satoru didn’t need to respond. As Akemi pushed the door open, her worst fears were confirmed as she saw you standing behind him, draped in nothing but a blanket. Tears welled in her eyes, and before she could think, her body reacted, her hand connecting with Gojou’s cheek in a resounding slap.
“You never changed!” she cried out, her voice cracking with anguish. “You’re still a cheater!”
Satoru struggled to deflect each fist she hurled at him, but her rage and despair overwhelmed any attempt to reason with her. She was consumed by her pain and the looming betrayal she anticipated, unable to comprehend that her worst fears were coming true before her eyes.
“‘Kemi, please,” Satoru pleaded in vain.
“...Akemi, I'm sorry,” you interjected, your voice heavy with remorse as you wiped your tears. “It’s not his fault. It’s mine.”
Upon hearing your words, Akemi erupted. She disregarded your friendship, cast aside your shared memories, and denied that she had ever considered you a friend. Her tear-filled eyes bore into you with accusation. “Y-You,” she began, her voice choking with sobs, “You’re a hypocrite, Y/N!”
You remained silent, absorbing her words.
Akemi pressed on with her onslaught. “You’re a hypocrite! You’ve become the person you despised the most when you were married,” she accused, recalling the anguish you endured during Gojou’s affair. “You’re no better than Sera! And that’s why you’re miserable, and you’ll forever be miserable! If this is your way of getting back at me,” she paused, betrayed by the anguish in her voice, “Then jokes on you, because Satoru will never be faithful to you. He’ll keep cheating on you, just like he did now with me! You two belong in that cycle!”
She fled before she could hear your response, but Satoru’s whispered apology lingered in the air, unclear of who its intended recipient was. At that moment, she didn’t care anymore. She raced back to her cabin, tears streaming down her face as she hastily packed her belongings.
She moved mechanically, tossing her belongings into her luggage while grappling with the overwhelming pain of his infidelity. Try as she might to focus on the task at hand, her tears flowed freely, and she surrendered to her grief, cradling her face in her hands.
Amidst her anguish, she couldn’t ignore the escalating pain in her pelvic region, a physical echo of the agony in her heart. Each sob seemed to intensify both sensations, leaving her feeling utterly shattered.
With that confrontation, Satoru faced a pivotal choice: to stay with you or to pursue Akemi. 
While Akemi had anticipated that he might choose you, she was taken aback when she swung the door open,
bags in hand, 
only to find Satoru Gojou standing on her doorstep.
2K notes · View notes
ceilidho · 1 year ago
Text
prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 2; ghoap x reader) masterlist
-
The hard part is admitting to himself that he doesn’t know how to function on leave without Ghost’s voice in his ear.
Johnny’s two days into his annual leave when that stray thought crosses his brain. Out with chums even, packed into the booth of an old pub in his hometown, the leather well-worn and a match on the telly that he half watches while one of his mates goes up to the bar to order another round for them. In between his third and fourth pint of lukewarm mild, he thinks something like, wonder what Simon’s up to.
The thought comes and then keeps coming. Keeps cropping up when he least expects. At the pub (wonder what Simon’s up to), in line at the grocery store (wonder how Ghost takes his steak), drowsily puttering around the kitchen while making breakfast (no way he wears the mask at home), listening to some guy in front of him hack up a lung at the dry cleaner (Lt’d do his fuckin’ head in if he was here), and even in the shower with his head tipped back, rinsing out the suds (wonder if he’s got a girl tucked away at home). 
Is it so unusual? Johnny can’t remember a time in his life when someone lived in his head night and day, but Ghost’s presence feels like an extension of his own these days. He’s cycled through girlfriends without a care in the world, without contemplating their existence for half as long, but they never cradled his life like a small bird in the palm of their hands and returned it safe and sound, did they?
Still, he feels it like a knot in his chest. Dreams about Ghost even; wakes up hot and hard, and scrubs his hand down the side of his face when he sits up in bed. Phantom memories of a body heavier than his weighing him down (just the duvet) and a thick hand curling around his dick (his own hand wrapped around his shaft, rubbing one out in his sleep). 
He shakes it off, but it follows him out into the real world. Looking at the door of a coffee shop and thinking absentmindedly, Ghost would have to duck under that. 
Johnny puts it out of his mind. As much as he’s able to, that is. Chalks it up to some kind of hero worship. He’s worked with superior officers before—plenty of times, hundreds of times—but there are few men of Ghost’s calibre, both in skillset and mystique. Not to mention the sheer size of the guy. And what is Johnny if not a moth to a flame?
Better not to ruminate. He casts the memory of seeing Ghost’s dick in the showers after their last mission (monstrous thing, uncut, pubes darker than the hair on his head, more than a mouthful—it’d give him lockjaw) out of his head. Doesn’t think about it. Laughs at a mate’s joke at the pub when he didn’t catch a word of it to mask the way he perked up at the sight of a wide-shoulder man until he turned around, giving Johnny a proper look at his face.
He’s not ready to think about it. Might never be able to really look at why he eats it up, why he struts around with his chin cocked just a bit higher than usual because he knows everyone else is watching him with equal parts envy and curiosity for being Ghost’s favourite. 
Then, one day, he meets a girl.
Johnny’s not winning an award any time soon for world’s best son, but he knows a thing or two. The first thing being chocolates and the second being flowers. His sisters handle the rest; they fuss about the party, get a gift certificate to the spa, send out the invites—all that fun stuff. He’s sent off for the bare essentials. Practically kicked out of the house by his oldest sister—nearly brains himself on the asphalt and tugs his windbreaker on when it’s thrown out the door after him a second later, grumbling about being the errand boy.
He picks up a box of chocolates from the corner shop (not fancy enough, his sisters will probably bitch, but that’s a problem for later) before heading down the road to the florist. There’s a bench out front stacked with tin flower vases, the only spot of colour on a dreary spring morning. He spends a couple minutes chatting with the cashier and flirting a bit halfheartedly (he thinks maybe it’ll be worth it if it gets him a discount, even five percent off) until the florist comes out from the back. 
“Jesus, who gave ye the right?” Johnny breathes, horse blinders on, vision narrowing on the object of desire coming out of the back in a linen apron and simple t-shirt underneath, scissors poking out of the front pocket. 
“The right?” she repeats back, blinking.
“To leave the house lookin’ so fuckin’ gorgeous. Glad I wasn’t driving when I passed you by—woulda been in a twenty car pile up.”
She’s not impressed in the slightest. It’s thrilling. By that point, the cashier is long forgotten. Probably not the best impression he’s ever made, but he’s made worse ones. It’s not every day he comes across an angel. Hard to be polite in front of a real life miracle. 
He wears her down over the week though, showing up each day for a new bouquet. His mam’s never liked him more, so at least there’s that. His sisters side-eye him whenever he ducks out of the house to head down the road to the florist’s, but even they know better than to bring it up and risk pissing off their mam. He interrogates her about flowers and her job, makes his presence unavoidable, a week long siege that ends with Johnny taking her out to dinner and then letting her take him to bed. 
He wakes up nestled in her cozy apartment above the flower shop, stretching out and making himself right at home. When she trades in her linen apron for a terry cloth robe and stands expectantly by the door, Johnny just grins. Shows all of his teeth. 
“Are ye just gonna use me and kick me out?” he pouts. Folds his hands behind his head and digs a foot into the sheets, trying to sink into the mattress. Little king in his castle. 
“You know, you don’t have to pussyfoot around with me. Weren’t you just trying to get laid?” she asks, brow arched. The disbelief thick in her voice makes it clear what she thinks of him. 
“No’ just some playboy, hen,” he scoffs. “I have feelings too.”
Her other eyebrow lifts. He’s tickled pink.
He plays the part well, he supposes. Lounges in bed and eats grapes all morning while she stares at him from the kitchen like he might dissipate at any moment. He’s used to leaving a false impression, like a lake that someone builds their house next to until years go by and someone says I think this was once a meteor. 
When she comes back to bed around mid morning, Johnny wastes no time pulling her up onto the bed until she plants her cunt over his mouth and sinks down onto his waiting tongue. 
Candy sweet pussy, he thinks blissfully, then says it out loud because he can never keep his mouth shut. It must tickle because she yelps and nearly pulls away from his face altogether, but he wrenches her back down, fingers digging into her ass cheeks a bit too forcefully. He’ll pay for that later. 
In the aftermath, when she collapses beside him in bed and rests her head on his chest while he plays with her hair, he itches in his skin to message Ghost. It perplexes him. They never text, he and Ghost; they don’t call, they don’t write, they don’t email. For all intents and purposes, their relationship ends at the perimeter around base, dissolves to nothing. It’s not Ghost’s fault he trickles into Johnny’s dreams sometimes. 
A week goes by. Calm the mind. He thinks of Ghost and his fingers tremble and the phone stays silent and he lets the thought go. Steady. Breathe in and out. His caryatid girl slips in and out of his sheets, hesitant always like he might leave. Johnny doesn’t know if she wants him to, wants to feel vindicated in her assumption, but of all her wants, that ranks the lowest in his mind. 
He spirals deeper into it, infatuated. She’s sweet but snippy, candy sweet with a sour kick—everything he’s ever wanted in a girl. Ever unimpressed, watching him with a small, hidden smile, amused despite herself. 
Johnny wonders if this is the universe waving its hand in front of his face. Yoohoo, missing something?
He looks pointedly away. 
It’s new, but maybe he’s like every other military man in the world, unable to go with the flow, dissatisfied with seeing where things go. He needs instant gratification, everything now-now-now, the certainty of commitment—he spills blood with everyone he knows, so why would his girl be any different?
Returning back to base is harder this time around. The last day of his leave is an exercise in restraint, tempered only by her smile when he sees her off at the door to her apartment, reluctant to leave. 
“C’mon, promise me you’ll call, hen,” Johnny mumbles into her mouth, catching her answer with a languid swipe of his tongue. His arms press her tight to his chest, digging his hands into her back pockets and giving a good squeeze, relishing in the way she squeaks. “How’m I gonna survive without ye, huh? They’re gonna have to jumpstart my heart after it gives out from missing ye so bad.”
“So dramatic. You have my number,” she says when he finally pulls back enough to let her speak.
“No, please, baby, please—promise me—”
“Oh my god, alright, fine—I’ll call. Now get going already.”
The drive back to base leaves him feeling bedraggled, lost. When he gets in, it’s straight to the barracks, an hour long nap before reporting to Price, dragging his feet the whole way over. Moping, for lack of a better word, until he rounds a corner and nearly collides with someone that stops him with a single hand on his shoulder. 
When he looks up to eyes rimmed in black paint, the world lightens. His shoulders lift. 
“Wipe that smirk off your face, Johnny.”
It takes Johnny awhile to bring her up with Ghost. Something keeps holding him back, choking him when he tries to say it outloud. He blames it on uncertainty (had to be sure she was the one, Lt, ye ken?) but he feels the truth at the core of him. When he does finally muster up the nerve to pass his phone to Ghost where her photo is front and centre, no mistaking his intentions, he waits on tenterhooks for a reaction. 
Only breathes out when Ghost asks to meet her. He can do that. 
“Aye, Lt. Just for you.”
3K notes · View notes
luveline · 9 months ago
Note
Hi Jade! I had an idea for a request! I was thinking about reader with a really low sex drive and maybe one day she starts to get a little worried and insecure about it and one of the boys just reassures her that he doesn’t care about it<3 idk if that made sense but write for whatever boy you want to I don’t have a preference love you 😚
How Remus, James and Sirius would comfort you when you worry your low libido is a problem. fem, 2.2k
❥ Remus 
Remus sits with his legs crossed in the corner of the settee, a book open on his thigh, though his attention has been caught and kept by the TV. 
You think some grovelling may be in order after last night. Quiet, you round the settee and climb onto the seat next to his, body turned away from the TV, arm creeping onto his thigh. 
“Hi,” he says. 
“Hi.” 
He encourages you closer, leaning back to give you room to lie on him. His right arm does most of the work to keep you up, sandwiching you to his chest, an almost not quite hug. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 
“How do you know something is wrong?” 
He taps your back with his fingers, looking up at the ceiling with a sarcastic smile. “What could it be?” 
The hints of green in his irises are more pronounced when he’s sitting in the sun like this, rays cutting in through the window, turning his pale skin slightly tanned and his hair a warmer chestnut colour that curls behind his ears. The scar on his lip relaxes as his joking smile fades to a proper one, a lovey-dovey type that melts you. It’s nice to be looked at so nicely, like just the sight of you inspires happiness. 
You shift off of your legs, deciding you might as well lay flat with your head in his lap instead. He lets you sink down. His hand takes up station near your cheek, the back of his curled fingers brushing the skin just shy of your eye. 
“This is nice,” he whispers. 
“I have to say sorry,” you whisper back, drawing shapes into his t-shirt, the soft muscle of his stomach pillowy to poke. 
Remus nods emphatically. “Yes, you didn’t come and see me as soon as you woke up. I heard you on your phone in bed. That’s not very nice, is it, depriving me of your company?” 
You shake your head into his thigh, a slow, guilty movement. “No, about last night.” 
“What about last night?” 
Last night, Remus had given you a very slow kiss. He’d been half asleep and you’d been more so, but it was a lovely kiss and his hand had been rubbing sweet half circles into your hip, but it still made you feel awful when he asked if he could touch you and you’d told him you were too tired, even if he didn’t mind. He’d just kissed your cheek and snuggled into you like a life-sized teddy bear. He never takes your rejection as an insult. 
“You… you wanted to fuck and I didn’t, I’m sorry. I feel like every time you ask lately I say no.” 
Remus frowns at you. Deep frown, eyebrows pinching and brown eyes bordering sullen. His fingers uncurl over your cheek and cover your ear as he cups your face. “I don’t want you to be sorry. The reason I ask is so you can say no, you can always say no.” 
“I kiss you, and I wind you up, and then I can’t–”
“Which I enjoy. You don’t have to worry about that.” He leans down to kiss you but doesn’t fully get there, your noses touching, and then he’s leaning away again. “Please don’t say sorry. You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 
“I know that. I’m not trying to make you into the bad guy.” 
Remus taps your nose with his and leans in again. “I know you’re not. You aren’t one either. Sex is just another fun thing to do, okay? If you don’t want to, that shouldn’t bother me, and it doesn’t. I promise.” 
You curl your arms around his neck. He lifts his head, subsequently lifting you as he moves, his arm curling behind your back for a hug. 
“Sometimes I want more of you than you want to give,” he says, “but it’s just because I love you, not because I need it. Don’t be silly, dove. Don’t say sorry.” 
He presses the heel of his palm to your back and begins the heavy pressure of a back rub. You won’t say sorry if he doesn’t want you to. You shouldn’t anyways. But he’s your boyfriend and you love him, so his being accepting of it is a relief. 
Like he can read your mind, he says, “You never have to say sorry for this.” 
“I know.” You lift your chin. “Kiss?” 
Remus kisses you quickly before tucking you into his neck for a long hug. 
❥ James
“You’re beautiful.” 
You’re boiling. James doesn’t notice, kissing and kissing and kissing, your neck flushed with his touch and his murmured compliment. “James.” 
He tilts his head, weaving in on the other side of your neck to give it the same loving treatment. “Pretty doesn’t cover it,” he says in a rush, his teeth scratching dully up to your jaw, his kissing like nips without any pain behind them as he reaches your cheek. 
You catch his face in your hands and push him away gently. It’s so hot in here you can’t breathe, and you’re not in the mood for any further action. It’s funny. You adore his kisses and James is undeniably a good fuck, but your libido is low no matter how pretty your boyfriend is, or how pretty he finds you. You’d always wondered if that meant there was something wrong with you. 
James doesn’t seem to think so. 
“Sorry,” he says, beaming, “that’s enough, right?” 
You feel a weird sharp stab in your chest. “Sorry?” 
“I’m getting ahead of myself.” James sits up where he’d been lying on top of you, having manoeuvred such a position in the midst of all his warm kisses. He sits back on his calves, kneeling in the space between your legs, a hand falling instead to your knee. “It’s fucking hot in here, isn’t it?” 
“Sorry.” 
“Did you make it hot?” 
You look at your hand on your chest. He’s noticed you don’t want to take it any further, you hardly ever do. You knew he’d see that eventually. You have the libido of a panda, where James is an athletic young man who loves you. 
“No, I mean. I’m sorry, because I never want to when you want to.” 
Your serious tone surprises him. “Baby, what the fuck are you talking about?” he asks. “I am so lost.” 
“Just– Most of the time when you try to sleep with me I turn you down. You know already.” 
“Baby, that doesn’t matter.” He leans in again, only to hold your wrists, two big hands curled around your arms to stop your fidgeting. Two pet names in quick succession is unlike him, and it relaxes you before he’s begun to explain. “It doesn’t matter at all. Just makes it better when we do manage to want it at the same time.” 
You grimace. “Are you sure?” 
“You want me to be honest?” 
You’re not sure. “Yeah. Please be honest.” 
“Sometimes we kiss and you know I want you,” his eyes dart down, prompting a surprised laugh from you, and an easy chuckle from him in return, “and it’s frustrating, but it’s not ‘cos of you. I can go shower and sort myself out and it’s not the same as being with you, but it’s not your fault. It’s just a reaction.” 
“But I feel bad for making you deal with it yourself.” 
“What are you supposed to do? You can’t force yourself if you’re not in the mood. That’s the last thing I want you to do. I’d rather have it fall off.” 
You laugh again. James’ smile is glowing, and warm as he presses it to your wrist in a chaste kiss. “We can do other things. If you feel that badly about it, you can give me a scalp massage, please. You shouldn’t feel badly about it, but still. If you’re okay with it, I’d love one.” 
He presses his cheek to your chest in want of your hand. 
You press your fingertips to his hairline and weave your fingers into the roots of his soft hair, shaking them, nails scratching lightly at his scalp like you know he likes. “How’s that?” you ask. 
“Better than sex.” He is unmistakably sincere. 
❥ Sirius 
“Did you lock the door?” 
Sirius hums. 
“Close the kitchen window?” 
“I did,” he says, waving your hand gently where he’s holding it between you both. You lay straight in bed with the duvet up to your chests and the TV playing one of his favourite movies. 
“Okay. Did you take your medication?” 
“Yeah, sweetheart. Everything’s done. You can relax.” 
You pick your book up and open it to the first page. You’ve been meaning to read this one for a while, you’re happy to get the time, but you’re feeling queasy about something. 
Sirius is a loud guy. He loves the glitz and glamour of life, he likes to go out, play fast and hard, he’s electric most of the time. He can be quiet, too, like you tend to be, but you’re worried that you’re another night closer to him deciding he’s bored. It’s been weeks since you went anywhere, and you haven’t fucked in almost as long. 
“Can I have this?” he asks, pulling your hand to his lips. 
You smile as he kisses your knuckles, barely there presses of his lips to your skin that linger. 
“You haven’t turned a page yet.” 
“It’s hard to start,” you tell him. 
“What’s it about? Fantasy?” 
“No, just a romance, I think.” 
“I like your romances. You read the complicated ones with the good love, like ours.” 
It’s a very nice thing to say, even if you’re not sure how he knows what romance you’re reading. He enjoys listening to you talk about books when they’re done, so perhaps the details have sunk in.
You let the book flop to the side and curl up around your joined hands. “I love you,” you say. 
He curls into you in return, “You should. That was a good line,” he says teasingly. “I love you too, my girl.” He speaks it with a quiet, gentle cadence that suits him and the pet name well. “Lift your head. Wanna see you.” 
You angle your face up to give him a view of the half that isn’t hidden by the sheets. “I’m so boring.” 
“Says who?” 
“Everybody, probably. All we do is watch TV and sleep.” 
“Good thing I love both of those things.” He wraps an arm around you, palm to your shoulder. “And it’s not true. We went to the cafe yesterday after work. On the weekend, we’re going to the cinema. Why, do you want to do more?” 
“It’s not me I’m worried about, Siri. Aren’t you bored?” 
He stares at you. Long, non-judgmental looking, his dark lashes kissing in the corners as his gaze wanders down to your neck. “Is this about something else?” 
“No.” 
His mouth turns sympathetic, a wobbly frown. “Are you sure, lovely? You can talk to me.” 
You weigh each word as you say it, determined not to embarrass yourself, “I’m worried that I don’t make your life very interesting. We don’t go out much, we don’t drink, and I never…” 
You turn your face down, your forehead to his chest. Sirius hums unhappily and encourages your head back to see you again almost immediately. “You never what?” he asks. 
“Never mind.” 
“No, please. Tell me, Y/N. You can tell me anything, I won’t care.” He’s getting so serious about it and it’s making it even more embarrassing than before, but you don’t want him to worry. You spit it out. 
“I don’t put out. We hardly ever have sex.” 
“Does that upset you?” he asks. 
“Well. It upsets me if it upsets you.” 
“It doesn’t.” His hand cups your cheek, his forehead drops down to yours. “It doesn’t upset me. Did I make you think that?” 
“You’re just so cool and I’m your loser.”
He laughs happily. “You’re my loser,” he agrees. 
“The last couple of times I’ve said no. I guess I just worry you want more than I’m giving out, so. I don’t want you to wish we were having more sex, but I can’t make myself want it more.” 
“I see.” 
You listen to him breathing, the warmth of his exhale like a kiss all its own as it fans over your mouth.
He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “Can I tell you what I think?” You nod, and he continues, “I only want to have sex with you, that’s one of the consequences of being in love. It’s a good one. So if you don’t wanna have sex, it’s safe to say I don’t want to either. Okay? Love you just as much with or without it.” 
Unlike him and not to be this tender. You bite the inside of your lip.
“Promise?” you ask. 
“I promise.” 
1K notes · View notes
astroismypassion · 1 year ago
Note
Any chance ucould do Eros in the signs and houses series pls???
Hi! I will try to answer in shortly, because there is not enough time for the whole post, but I’ll just go quickly through it, so that I give you an answer. 😊
Eros in signs
Aries Eros: Well, they just really like people that take charge, but they still end up controlling it? The Aries Eros native will still like to be in charge in some manner. Either by teasing you long enough, edging you or not allow you to touch them on certain body parts. They low key love delegating? 😂 Like “you do this here and I’ll do that there to you”? haha. They love “dividing” tasks in the bedroom. They might have this one unrealised dream of someone coming onto them passionately, kissing them and it turns out in a whole wild night that lets you wonder what the hell just happened last night. They have this one fantasy scenario of just being unhinged.
Taurus Eros: They are seduced by moans and someone talking, breathing onto their ears. Don’t underestimate the ears with this sign. You might not think that it’s Taurus, but it actually is. They love is someone nibbles, playfully licks their ear. I would say lots of kissing on the lips, but then again if it’s maybe aspected by Uranus, Saturn or at times even Neptune, they might not even be that keen. Not all Taurus placements love long, long make out sessions. Some don’t even like french kisses or kissing on the mouth that much. But they are often down for neck kissing. Even light biting or hickeys, but again it really depends on how cautious or reserved they feel.
Gemini Eros: They are seduced by people who keep them mentally stimulated or provide good ideas, but talk less then them. 😂 They often go for people who ask a lot of questions instead haha. They like to be the one providing answers and solutions to fixing partner’s inquiries and questions. But they are often aroused by the partner that occasionally talks back or behaves bratty.
Cancer Eros: Now this one is again, might be controversial. But they have this thing with left eye? They love if you plant a little baby kiss above or under or somewhere close to their eye. It’s like a protective gesture. They are usually heavy breathers when aroused. You might feel like their breathing becomes deeper, almost like they are in a deeper state of relaxation.
Leo Eros: These are overall very confident people. Not just in sex, but their general disposition, personality, how they carry themselves. Even if they have quiet confidence and not loud, they come across even more self assured than an Aries. They just know what they want, how and when. They have a sultry look to them that they don’t even have to try hard at flirting or seducing someone, because they already are so charming. These people actually compliment YOU a lot when they want to sleep with you and they do not need so many compliments for themselves actually.
Virgo Eros: They are just as complex as a Scorpio Eros. 🙈 These people might like everything, but nothing at the same time. They throw order out when having sex, they become chaotic. They are like “just throw it somewhere, we’ll clean afterwards”, they really don’t care when in the moment. Also, they get very easily overstimulated. They could be turned off by an unexpected or unpleasant smell. But having someone’s hands all over their body, touching them is actually the only time they do NOT feel anxious. These people are too often touch starved.
Libra Eros: Oh these people are just very proper and diplomatic, neutral, at times reserved and cautious. However, I noticed that they exhibit traits of the opposite sign, Aries, when in a partnership. So when in a romantic partnership, they become much more controlling in the bedroom. Wanting to really be pleased by the partner and vice versa, because what’s the point of being in a partnership then? They become very idealistic and demanding. They love if you try to seduce them and flirt with them, give them a lot of compliments. They need to feel desired in order to get aroused. They are also surprisingly cerebral, meaning they love smooth talkers, people who seduce them with words.
Scorpio Eros: You can imagine it’s no easy task to seduce them or arouse them. They are complex. They might have had some unpleasant experiences before which really affected them, so always proceed with care when dealing with them. They might have also stayed celibate, single for years. They are really self-sufficient, usually they know what they like, even when inexperienced. And that could secretly even prefer being pleasured by themselves rather than teaching and showing their partner what they like. Also, surprisingly, they like what it is tried and tested. They might not like too much variety and change, they could stick with that they like.
Sagittarius Eros: They love touching up on thighs, but is still a butt person. They get more aroused by people that are not around them daily and live at a distance. So they get weirdly flirty via messages. They might act more seductive online, via messages than when you are actually face to face with them.
Capricorn Eros: I would described these people as complex, yet simplistic. They might have a lower sexual stamina when younger. Then they might be more into monk mode😂 , not prioritising sex all that much, but more so they career, establishing themselves, building up finances and money. But after first Saturn Return, they usually become a beast. Like the type to love to have very consistent sex going on in the week. This is how you might expect Virgo to behave. Capricorn Eros enjoys daily sex or every 2-3 days if other duties and responsibilities prevent that. They become like bunnies in a partnership. Touching up on their partner often throughout the day. But generally, they are prone to more low sexual libido. Sometimes they really just prefer cuddling.
Aquarius Eros: They are either all in or all out. You can really know by how much they are into you by how much they are touching you. If they are detached when touching you and not looking you in the eyes or almost avoid your look a bit, they might not be into you that much, might only like you a little bit. But if they are not touching you in a “detached” manner they probably feel consumed by you. They actually give a lot of attention when fixated on someone. They also really like familiarity in sex, when seducing someone. It helps them feel relaxed and seduced if you share the same dreams, interests, hopes and ideals for the future or have the same level of education. They really would only sleep with an all “equal” partner to them.
Pisces Eros: They love to feel needed or be the protector, it makes them aroused. They love if they could help you. The type to want to hug you, kiss you and hold you, if you just cried. They like to be “in charge” of your pleasure or knowing they were the one who gave you pleasure or made you feel okay.
Eros in houses
1st house: They really like if their partner checks in with them. Like “is this comfortable enough for you, are you okay?”. Hates inconsiderate partners.
2nd house: They dislike actual massages, like if someone massages their shoulders or back. But they do like sexual massages🙈. Big on oral, but like reciprocated, they dislike selfish partners. They might consider leaving you if they deem you too selfish or not generous enough.
3rd house: Loves a sexy teacher scenario. They love people who are able to improve them, teach, guide them, that are more reserved, stern, but that are also hot as hell. It’s interesting, because these people really are not that clean themselves, but really demand a lot from their partner in terms of cleanliness.
4th house: They love doing it in their own home or own bedroom, bed. Because they often do not feel uncomfortable in another person’s bed. They get more relaxed in their own. Surprisingly, they get really turned off if their person has untidy bedroom or bed. They really like fresh sheets, clean bed, nightstand, otherwise they tend to not feel the vibe.
5th house: These people move too quickly, when try to seduce someone, flirt with them. They need to slow down with introducing intimacy too early on or without knowing the person that well. Their interest goes when the most attention is. If you give them a lot of attention, they will give it to you back enough as well. They are actually much more strict with reciprocal energy than Libra to be honest. If you are not doing enough for them, they are out.
6th house: Ahh, their day at work affects their sex life. If they are stressed, burned out, had a bad day at work, feel not good enough. They won’t like being even touched. They get really low sexual desire when from bad day at work.
7th house: If they are seducing you, they are likely thinking about partnering up with you. They don’t flirt outside of partnership. They like to give special attention only to their partner.
8th house: Has harder time with boundaries. They demand complete loyalty before interacting with you. They really go for enigmatic odd people, but fit people. They like partners who take care of themselves. If you have lousy self-care routine, better to stay away from them.
9th house: They will test you a lot with sliding in subtle jokes, so that they see how you’ll react if they are trying to seduce you, sleep with you. You will not know whether they are being serious or joking. But that’s the whole point! They are doing it only to gather your reaction, so that they know if they can proceed or not. This person will likely get with people out of their league or not want to get involved with someone all together, just because they are intimidated by them.
10th house: These people have high self-respect and they actually like more messy not so orderly people. They like even an occasional wild card. Someone who is unafraid to be themselves. They have high standards and often hang with friends and not get attached before they achieved and secured everything they wanted.
11th house: These people will always surprise with people they choose to seduce or get intimate with. Because the person they end up choosing is often the complete opposite of 11th house Eros native. If they are organised, the go for a chaotic partner that is more messy. But the thing with this placement is often yes, their partner is completely different then them, but shares the same dreams. Or the Eros in the 11th house sees their partner as someone who they try to become.
12th house: Loves getting on at night or late in the evening or right before bed or falling asleep. They get seduced by good night messages😂. They get more vulnerable at night. Also, maybe be more keen on idea of doing it if you watch a romantic movie or just watching something, relaxing and chilling. Also, they dislike if their partner falls asleep on them haha. “Oh you fell asleep, I thought we’re gonna have sexy time??”
1K notes · View notes
writingnightmare · 7 days ago
Note
please could you do dating headcanons for chuuya please. Like first date and early in the relationship and then when it is established. ❤️
Tumblr media
A/n: of course I can! I love writing for Chuuya, and coming up with these was super fun. Thanks Anon!
─── ✶ ───
Characters: Main - Chuuya Nakahara
Content summary: Dating HCs for Chuuya in an early relationship, then progression to an established one.
Warnings: Slight language warning, Reader and Chuuya are implied to be highly competitive at boardgames.
Tags: [SFW], [Fluff]
Word count: 1.9k
Type: Headcannons
─── ✶ ───
Dating Headcannons - Chuuya Nakahara x Reader ⫘⫘
─────────── ⫘⫘ ───────────
Tumblr media
Okay so, we all know Chuuya is an outwardly confident man, arrogant even.
In the beginning, he had to actively remember he didn’t have to be arrogant with you. You know he’s great, you’ve not questioned his talent or skill once, but it’s a tough habit to break.
He’s a busy man, and he warned you as such. So, he gets you to text him your work schedule at the beginning of every month, at first it feels weird, but you quickly get used to it. When he gets time to take you on a date, you don’t really get a warning in advance, not more than a couple hours at most.
The first time this happened, he only told you 10 minutes prior. And of course, he wanted to go to an incredibly fancy restaurant. By the time he got there, you were not ready. You opened the door without your shoes on, smelling of minty toothpaste, much to his surprise.
He quickly learned if he wanted to take you somewhere nice, you needed more than 10 minutes, especially since you had to dig your fancy clothes out of the back of your closet.
Chuuya goes easy on the wine. Last thing he wants to do, is get absolutely plastered on your first date.
The definition of a gentleman. Opens any doors, helps you get seated, whole nine yards. He is absolutely trying to impress you, and could listen to you talk about your life for hours.
However, if you ask him about himself? Well, he might get a little vague.
That aside, he walks you back to your door, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. Won’t go for a proper kiss, unless you initiate it first. It’s not that he’s shy, more uncertain of your boundaries yet, and doesn’t want to cross them.
After a few weeks once you both become more comfortable, will 100% show you off to Koyo if you come to the office.
Whilst she isn’t the end all, her impression of you is important to him, so he is absolutely looking for her approval of you.
Your doorbell will begin to ring at random times in the day, and every time you open it, it’s something different. It could be a package with a designer outfit he bought for you, or it could be a bouquet of flowers. You never get told in advance, but it’s always addressed to you, so you figure it’s fine, right?
His name is never on the packages, so the first couple of times it happened you were kinda freaked out. You definitely didn’t order these shoes that cost well over $1000, but it was your name, address and all, with no note. How did they know your shoe size?
A call to Chuuya quickly settles any concerns you may have of who sent it to your doorstep. He will cut off your rambling about the random packages with a light hearted laugh, amused by your reaction.
“Babe, I got those for you, who else would know your shoe size.”
No amounts of complaints about the price of said gifts will sway him. It is his money, and if he wants to spend it on you, he’ll do it regardless of what you say.
Will sending you music at random points of the day. Any song that he thinks you’d like, you’ll be having a link sent.
I hope you like wine, because he will invite you to come drink at his place.
You knew he liked to drink before you started dating, you’d seen the ginger man drunk before, but never quite like this.
He is very touchy, playing with your hair as he complains about his day, drawing patterns on the palm of your hand as you tell him about yours, the man just wants to touch you. You will end up cuddled up on his couch, pressing delicate kisses into your skin. He doesn’t mean anything sexual by it, he is just incredibly affectionate when he’s drunk.
Will tell you in detail about his conversations with his colleagues when he’s like this.
“-and then Akutagawa came around the corner, ‘n ya’ know what he asks? He asked if he did the wrong thing by killing the hostage- YES, THAT WASN’T THE PLAN! But I can’t just yell at him and beat him, cause then he’ll be reminded of that bastard Daz-“
“-but then Hirotsu told me I should jus’ lock you away, because society would ruin you. I don’ even know what he means by that….”
You never get enough context in these talks, but that’s fine with you. So long as he’s less stressed by the end of it all, you’re happy to listen. You would later find out that Hirotsu just has a particular distaste for society en masse, which you can appreciate. What you don’t, is him giving your boyfriend advice to lock you away.
A few months later you even get a call from Hirotsu himself, asking for help at a bar with the ginger himself. You were curious as to how he got your number in the first place, but realise you probably don’t want to know anyway. By the time you arrive at the bar, Chuuya was completely trashed, face smushed into the table as he left enraged voicemails to his old coworker. You tried to help him out of the booth, but the man pushed you off, indignantly proclaiming he had a girlfriend.
You were almost mad, almost, if it wasn’t for the fact of how he was saying it.
“I ‘ave a girlfriend, I don’t want anyone else touchin’ me!”
At least he was a loyal drunk, if not an idiot one too.
You eventually coaxed him home, but only by promising you weren’t trying to steal him from his girlfriend, and you in fact had a boyfriend yourself.
By the time you got him home, he collapsed onto the bed, mumbling of how he would still warn his girlfriend of you in the morning, which was fine by you.
He was genuinely surprised to see you still there, shocked even. He had vague memories of the night before, of stumbling home with you, but Chuuya never expects anyone to stay in his life for very long. Finding painkillers and water by his bedside, and you cooking in his kitchen, he was far too stunned to realise you were teasing him about the night before, asking if he needed to warn you of yourself yet. He wasn’t sure how to react to it all. Was this what falling hard into love felt like? Maybe Koyo wasn’t exaggerating.
From this point, the floodgates to Chuuya’s life suddenly opened. He no longer dances around tough questions of his past, and you find yourself bombarded by seemingly endless facts about the man. Did you know he sucks at tennis?
It’s not that he didn’t trust you or love you before. For Chuuya, there is a distinct difference between having love for someone and being in love with them. If he wasn’t sure you’d stay long, why tell you the small things.
Your dates become more intimate after this too. He comes over to your place to cook for you, you didn’t even ask him to do it, he just wanted to.
You end up having more dates at home, and he seems to relax with you like this. You still go out for fancy dinners and the like, but he only ever truly lets the stress of everything go when it’s just you and him at one of your places.
Once your relationship gets close to a year, he wants to live with you. Seeing you as he does now is difficult to say the least, and he would much rather be able to come home to you (even if you steal all the damn blankets).
Not against moving himself, but will insist the place have good security for both your sakes.
When you do move in together, you learn something else about your lover. Something no one could have prepared you for.
This son of a bitch steals your damn pillow in his sleep.
This continues to happen, and you reluctantly buy pillow after pillow, until you have amassed a collection of five pillows. You dread the day he manages to snatch all five in one night, but refuse to buy anymore until it does happen. (It does.)
Luckily, living together means you get to listen to his tired mumbling of affection for you. How you are his diamond, his cherished person who is impossibly precious to him. You genuinely mean the world to this man, he just sucks at saying it. You are his person, his home, his tiny bit of peace in his hectic life. It’s an intimate moment, and one you often find solace in when he again takes your pillows multiple times in his sleep. (You know he’s asleep, so how he manages to solely target your pillow is a mystery to you to this very day. You would be mad, if he didn’t apologise so much every morning.)
“You’re perfect, you know that? I don’ want my life any other way…”
He realises you don’t actually need or want him to spend a ton of money on buying gifts for you. You actually get happier when he brings home a bouquet of your favourite flowers, instead of a diamond necklace.
Now every three days he goes to a local florist on his way home, and brings home a new bunch. It gets to the point that if there isn’t flowers in a tall vase, you both feel as though something in the house in wrong.
You have late boardgames nights, but it quickly becomes apparent that you are both far too competitive for it to ever work. On the last night you played monopoly (referred to by Chuuya as the monopo-geddon incident), your neighbours called the police to your house. Turns out your heated “disagreement”, on who owed who rent money, sounded like quite the violent affair to those without context.
Monopoly and boardgames are thereafter forbidden from the household.
You both try baking together instead, and it turns out this man is great at it. He gives the excuse that he’s just talented, little do you know he once lost a bet to Dazai related to baking, and learnt it out of spite. He will never admit this.
Will want you to come to every work event. If he has to sit through them, he at least would like the comfort of your presence.
And it’s an excuse to show you off to his subordinates. When they see their boss, the way he kisses the top of your hand, arm draped around your waist, they almost couldn’t believe it. They of course knew he had a partner, one who seemed to lessen his wrath when she called him, but they’d never seen the man quite so happy. They first thought you had drugged the man, from the bright spark in his eyes when he watched you adoringly, the way his cocky grin turned into a genuine smile, how arrogantly he would introduce you as his partner, to how delicately he touched you as if you might break, it all seemed odd. They quickly realised this wasn’t the case, when he was still more than willing to yell and discipline them regardless of your presence. The man is simply smitten.
Tumblr media
178 notes · View notes
genshingorlsrevengeance · 13 days ago
Note
(This might be a lil angsty) but perchance navias (or anyone else that you like) reaction to s/o nearly dying/near-death experience taking in consideration that navia has lost nearly everyone she has ever cared for
(Genshin Impact) Navia reacting to her S/O almost dying
Tumblr media
Navia nearly crushes S/O in a hug as soon as their eyes open again, her hat flying off onto the bed.
(Navia) "S/O!"
S/O flinches in pain, making Navia immediately recoil back.
(Navia) "S-Sorry!"
(S/O) "Ow...hah, it's alright...What happened?"
Navia takes a deep breath, attempting to calm herself but her breathing still remained ragged, shutting her eyes.
(Navia) "You...took a really bad hit when we were attacked outside the city. I was only barely able to get you back in time for you to get proper medical attention."
Navia's hand hovers over S/O's, hesitant to draw her arm.
(Navia) "I...I thought I-..."
Even though she didn't finish, S/O knew exactly what she was thinking.
S/O shifted in their bed, making Navia look up as they extended an arm towards her.
Silently, Navia hugs S/O gently, shutting her eyes again.
S/O runs their hand through her hair, although it was strained, the pain was worth it in order to make sure Navia calmed down.
(S/O) "I'm sorry to have worried you, Navia..."
(Navia) "Please just...don't do that again. I can't lose you, S/O."
S/O couldn't say anything else, instead holding Navia closer with their other arm.
Navia's sniffles began to fill the silence, as tears ran down her cheek.
S/O lifted her face in order to wipe the tears away with a finger, Navia leaning into their touch.
(S/O) "Navia. I promise you, I won't ever get hurt like this again for you."
S/O was speaking faster than their mind could process it, letting their emotions take the wheel.
Both of them knew they had no idea what was in store, and Archons forbid, this wouldn't be the last time they had a conversation like this. Maybe even Navia would be in the bed one day.
But their words put Navia a little more at ease all the same, a sad smile finally forming on her face.
(Navia) "Hah...Don't make a girl a promise if you know you can't keep it..."
Navia leans back into her seat, reluctantly pulling her hand back and standing up.
(Navia) "I'll go get you something to eat, you must be starving."
(S/O) "We can go toge-"
S/O tried to get up only for a moment before wincing in pain again, Navia's hand resting on their chest as she pushed them back onto bed.
With a small smile, she picked up her hat before adjusting it on her head.
(Navia) "I'll be back as soon as I can. Just...stay awake for me this time, okay?"
S/O nodded, sitting upright on their bed and relaxing to ease the pain as Navia left the room.
Wiping away a final tear, Navia attempted to compose herself.
It had already been several days when S/O was taken in for treatment, now she could finally calm down since they finally woke up.
With that final thought and a nod, Navia looked back to the door, smiled, then walked off.
She knew better than to dwell in her head of what might have happened.
As long as S/O opened their eyes again, that's what mattered to Navia.
156 notes · View notes
bonefall · 2 months ago
Text
I'm powering through most of ASC: Star to get it over with (and planning to summarize all my thoughts in one big post instead of a liveread), but this part of the Curlfeather/Frostpaw interaction sticks out like a thorn to the point where I need to comment on it alone.
For context, Frostpaw is on her deathbed and this is the moment where she's having a very important, culminating argument with her mother about her motivations.
The writers decided that their thesis is that StarClan itself is what really makes the Clan cats warriors-- not necessarily an unchanging Warrior Code. The law might change, but unwavering faith in their religion will keep their morality straight through such times. Through Frostpaw and Curlfeather, this is is the point in the story where the narrative has to prove this. Or at least make a compelling argument in its case.
Problem is...
Tumblr media
Frostpaw's sentiment here, that Curlfeather wouldn't have been able to get legitimacy as a leader, is just factually wrong.
StarClan has been shown to have absolutely no power to deny cats lives. They're also completely incapable of pointing out "illegitimate leaders" to the living cats.
Brokenstar and Tigerstar were already murderers who had eliminated political rivals when StarClan gave them "their blessing." They also completely refused to give Nightstar any lives, when they're shown to be capable of "life-splitting" in the case of Pinestar's successor, Sunstar. It goes back and forth between being "unable" and "unwilling" to influence the mortal plane, but the bottom line is consistently that they can't do shit.
This whoooooole book was also about how Splashstar, who also didn't accept the extra lives, was able to keep control over a frustratingly compliant RiverClan. You sit through entire chapters of RiverClan cats whining about Just Following Orders and the main characters being washed in pity at how hard of a situation they must be in. Curlfeather is demonstrated to be a hypocrite; but if RiverClan HAD followed the Warrior Code and killed Splashstar in "self-defense" like it stipulates, or moved to prevent the kits from suffering at his hands like it says, then she's correct.
The Warrior Code, as a system of laws, IS actually what makes them a proper society... at least, in this atomized fantasy where Clans aren't communities with a sense of interpersonal duty towards one another, but instead dedicated to process and pride.
Don't misunderstand me; Curlfeather herself as a character claims that what was bad about RiverClan, and needed to "change," was that they'd started caring about other Clans under Mistystar. This is nonsensical and clearly wrong; Mistystar was only slightly less isolationist than Onestar, and every time she'd helped another Clan was a good thing. It did not make them "weak," being a more "traditionalist" leader wouldn't make them "strong."
What I'm getting at is that her wider point, in the debate about Law vs Faith and which one truly makes a cat a Warrior, is supported by the entire arc. Faith in StarClan didn't stop any of this from happening, but a better sense of honor sure as hell would have.
I didn't think it was possible for them to make me more anti-StarClan after they enabled Ashfur's hostile takeover of ThunderClan in the last arc, but here we are.
209 notes · View notes
cupcakeslushie · 9 months ago
Note
For your brainwash au, do we get so see exactly how Donnie got captured by Kendra? And would this au be a full comic or just bits and pieces here and there? (Not pressuring just curious) Love the au and I hope you’re having a good day! :)
Tumblr media
Don’t know why, but I felt like writing this part out instead of drawing it! (Sorry for bad grammar. I wrote this lying in bed, sleep deprived and did no editing)
——
The sad, pained look on his little brother’s face is enough to set off that dark protective fire in Donatello’s belly. And Michael has been a tiny storm of negative emotions since Leo slapped the small cast on his ankle. Donnie may not be able to pick apart and decipher all of the subtitles his brother is feeling right now, but he knows he’s in pain, and that’s enough.
“How many strips of bacon do you think we can get from Meat Sweat’s corpse?” Donnie ponders as he wraps an arm around his little brother’s shoulders, and carefully pulls him closer. Mikey lets out a quiet huff, but the joke doesn’t land the way Donnie had been hoping.
“Michael?”
“I’m okay,” Mikey assures. Then a hesitant second later adds, “it’s stupid.”
“Oh well if it’s stupid, allow me to grab ‘Nardo. He might be able to help you better.”
That gets the laugh he was looking for.
“I’m not in pain or anything. It’s just, tonight was the midnight signing of Joshua Bear’s new cook book. He’s a YouTuber chef that I’ve been following for years, and I went to his first release…I really wanted the second for my collection.”
Donatello does vaguely remember Angelo telling Raph something about this event last night, during dinner. He’d been so excited, and now he looks crushed at the idea of missing it.
“What if I went?” At the suggestion, Mikey’s face becomes brighter than a super nova, almost too bright for Donnie to stare at directly. It takes a moment for Michael to really calm down enough to speak.
“You’d really go wait in line for three hours? Just to get a book?” Donatello laughs at the question. Any opportunity in which his brothers were interested in the world of literature, no matter the subject (except maybe geology) was a time to be supportive.
Mikey pulls him in for a tight hug, and holds up his phone to snap a picture of them. Donnie snorts and slides out of his little brother’s hammock, careful not to disturb it too much. Mikey is already bouncing enough that he’s in danger of falling out.
“Yes, yes. Sing my praises on all your media socials. Let the world know how I’m your favorite older sibling!” Mikey drops the phone to his chest and holds his arms up, practically vibrating for one more hug. Donnie complies. He’s long given up maintaining his bad boy image when it’s just the two of them.
“You’re the best, Donnie! Really!” The words do a hell of a job replacing that previous fury he’d been harboring, the smile and warmth coming from Mikey, now fully restored. The proper order of the universe righted with a simple solution. This was what he loved most about being a brother. Fixing his siblings problems, in any way he could. And if healing the broken bone outright was (for now) out of his control—at least he could do this.
Donnie glances at his watch and notes he should get going if the turn out is going to be as big as Angelo predicts. He sneaks past the living room where he can hear his other two brethren yelling over a game of Mario Kart. He has zero interest in either of his brothers tagging along. He loves them, but neither are suited to standing in a long line for hours. For the last Jupiter Jim reboot, Donatello was seconds away from a double fratricide before they were even allowed into the theater.
Besides. He’s practically 18 (in four weeks). He can run up to the surface for a few hours, without having to call upon the archaic buddy system.
———
He’s in line for about an hour, when he sees suspicious movement out the corner of his eye. A young woman, parting the line a little ways ahead from where he stands, walks quickly into the closest alley. That alone might be no cause for alarm—maybe it’s a short cut. But the tall, hooded creep trailing after her, has his metaphorical hackles rising. It’s a clear case of sinister intentions. He quickly glances around to see if anyone else has witnessed this, but he’s the only one who seems to be showing any type of concern. Typical New York.
“What a town” Donnie sighs. He doesn’t bother asking the old man behind him to save his spot, seeing as he’s practically at the end of the line, and quickly races to the alley to play hero.
It’s a deep one, the lights of the street not quite hitting all the eerie nooks and crannies. Plenty of blind spots.
“Hello there? Stalker and or damsel in distress? Is anyone in need of assistance? Anyone hopefully bear maced and in need of a being escorted to the nearest precinct?”
No answer.
The non-existent hairs on Donnie’s arms stand straight up. Just as he’s reaching for his ninpo to materialize a bo-staff, something thick wraps around his neck from behind. The arm is almost as big as Raphael’s, if lacking in the muscle department.
But before his can break the hold, the solid feeling of a needle slides into the meat of his neck and something rushes into his veins. Within seconds he’s released and stumbling from the lack of support.
Someone is talking to him. It takes a second of his gaze bouncing around to pick them out. Mildly embarrassing, considering they’re standing right in front of him now. Out of all the colors popping in and out of his vision, Donnie only just catches the same turquoise hoodie that seemed to belong to the unassuming young woman.
A honey pot trap, he realizes, stumbling and falling pathetically backwards on his own ass.
He sees pink hair and is almost relieved, if humiliated. With all their enemies, the Purple Dragons are D tier. But the chances he can free himself before his brothers even notice his absence is high. Just the thought of the savage teasing he would be forced to endure if his brothers found out—Donatello is not eager to hear any of it.
As the nauseating colors finally bleed away, and start to leave black growing in their wake, Donatello swears to cause a big explosion on his way out.
Tumblr media
551 notes · View notes
hollowed-theory-hall · 10 months ago
Text
Sirius Black was the best adult in Harry's life and I'm forever salty that we didn't get to see more of him
So, I love Sirius Black. He's a complex and interesting character that I love dearly. He's handsome, smart, brave, not as reckless as some fanon make him out to be, and above all else, he tried his best to be a good godfather to Harry.
I truly believe Sirius could've been an amazing father figure (more than he already was) to Harry if given the proper chance. And he's a much better parent to Harry than Arthur and Molly Weasley.
Here are some quotes along with my ramblings to prove it.
So, what I'm going to cover here are some quotes from Sirius and Harry that show their dynamic and how much Sirius cared and tried to be there for Harry. Also, I think Molyl and Hermione are wrong about Sirius seeing Harry as a James replacement.
“He came back to the country just because my scar twinged. He’ll probably come bursting right into the castle if I tell him someone’s entered me in the Triwizard Tournament —”
(GoF, page 290)
Harry wrote to Sirius at the beginning of GoF about his dream with Voldemort and his scar's reaction to it. Sirius left everything immediately to return to Britain — a place where he is hunted down and is a wanted man. All because he wants to be close to Harry, so he can spring up to protect him if the need arises.
Harry is correct in his assessment here.
“Poor old Snuffles,” said Ron, breathing deeply. “He must really like you, Harry. . . . Imagine having to live off rats.”
(GoF, page 534)
Ron is absolutely right. Sirius loves Harry more than pretty much anything. He would and does go incredibly far for Harry. I don't think Molly and Hermione are right about how Sirius sees Harry as James. He just doesn't.
He doesn't treat Harry as an equal to him, but as someone he needs to protect. Someone he is responsible to protect.
He stays around Hogwarts, eating rats in GoF so he can better protect Harry. He wouldn't have done the same with James because he treated James as an equal, not as someone he needed to protect.
“It’s not my fault you haven’t been told what the Order’s doing,” said Sirius calmly. “That’s your parents’ decision. Harry, on the other hand —” “It’s not down to you to decide what’s good for Harry!” said Mrs. Weasley sharply. Her normally kindly face looked dangerous. “You haven’t forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?” “Which bit?” Sirius asked politely, but with an air as though readying himself for a fight. “The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know,” said Mrs. Weasley, placing a heavy emphasis on the last three words. Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George’s heads turned from Sirius to Mrs. Weasley as though following a tennis rally. Ginny was kneeling amid a pile of abandoned butterbeer corks, watching the conversation with her mouth slightly open. Lupin’s eyes were fixed on Sirius. “I don’t intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly,” said Sirius. “But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back” (again, there was a collective shudder around the table at the name), “he has more right than most to —” “He’s not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!” said Mrs. Weasley. “He’s only fifteen and —” “— and he’s dealt with as much as most in the Order,” said Sirius, “and more than some —” “No one’s denying what he’s done!” said Mrs. Weasley, her voice rising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. “But he’s still —” “He’s not a child!” said Sirius impatiently. “He’s not an adult either!” said Mrs. Weasley, the color rising in her cheeks. “He’s not James, Sirius!” “I’m perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly,” said Sirius coldly. “I’m not sure you are!” said Mrs. Weasley. “Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it’s as though you think you’ve got your best friend back!” “What’s wrong with that?” said Harry. “What’s wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him!” said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes still boring into Sirius. “You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!” “Meaning I’m an irresponsible godfather?” demanded Sirius, his voice rising. “Meaning you’ve been known to act rashly, Sirius, which is why Dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay at home and —” “We’ll leave my instructions from Dumbledore out of this, if you please!” said Sirius loudly.
(OotP, page 88-89)
This above quote is a long one, but I love it. I mean, this shows a big contrast between Sirius' approach to parenting and Molly's. Sirius, while not seeing Harry as his equal, does see Harry as a capable wizard who deserves to know the full picture. Sirius knows Harry would be in more danger when ignorant and wants him as safe as possible. He thinks Harry deserves to know things that pertain to him, and I have to agree with him here. Keeping Harry in the dark is what eventually cost Sirius his life.
Molly, on the other hand, is intent on keeping Harry, Hermione, and her kids ignorant. She has the same intention as Sirius: to keep them safe. But she tries to keep them safe emotionally, even when this ignorance can and does place them in physical harm's way.
And Sirius is right. Harry is capable. And a 15-year-old shouldn't be treated the same as an 11-year-old child. And let's be real, Harry was never a regular child with how he grew up, and I think Sirius sees his maturity and treats him accordingly. Sirius actually gave Harry advice to not approach danger in GOF and Harry listened to him because Sirius treated him with respect, which works best with Harry who never really had parental figures.
“I don’t know,” said Sirius slowly, “I just don’t know . . . Karkaroff doesn’t strike me as the type who’d go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can’t help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it look like an accident.”
(GoF, page 334)
This is an expert from the Fireplace conversation Haryr had with Sirius before the first task. Sirius shares his theories with Harry because he needs him to know who to watch out for. Because everything he does is to keep Harry safe. And this is the same approach Sirius wishes he could take with Harry in OOTP. Because he knows it works. Keeping Harry informed means that if he does put himself in danger, at least he would inform Sirius about it; Which would allow Sirius to protect him.
I'm not copying all of them, but Sirius' letters to Harry throughout GOF are so caring and sweet. Harry deserved to have more of his godfather in his life:
Nice try, Harry. I'm back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. Don't use Hedwig, keep changing owls, and don't worry about me, just watch out for yourself. Don't forget what I said about your scar. Sirius
(Gof, page 240)
This treatment encourages Harry to actually share everything with him and ask him for advice. Something he doesn't do with Dumbledore ever. (Harry actually doesn't like or trust Dumbledore all that much until book 6, it's usually Hermione who trusts Dumbledore fully)
“Sirius — how’re you doing?” ... “Never mind me, how are you?” said Sirius seriously.
(GoF, page 331)
Sirius again, shows his responsibility towards Harry's well-being over his own (both here and in the above letter).
Sirius is the only adult who actually talks to Harry about the Dursleys with sympathy:
“But if they do expel me,” said Harry, quietly, “can I come back here and live with you?” Sirius smiled sadly. “We’ll see.” “I’d feel a lot better about the hearing if I knew I didn’t have to go back to the Dursleys,” Harry pressed him. “They must be bad if you prefer this place,” said Sirius gloomily.
(OotP, page 116)
We know Sirius would love nothing more than for Harry to stay with him. He's lonely and bored at Grimmauld and would love to have Harry there. But at the same time, he doesn't want Harry expelled from Hogwarts and is trying not to be hopeful for it.
Sirius understands the Dursleys are awful, he just know the full scope, but it's more of a reaction than we get from most adults in this series. To me, it looks like Sirius is annoyed by how limited he is in helping Harry. He can't really do much about the Dursleys or their status as Harry's guardians.
“So you want me to say I’m not going to take part in the defense group?” he muttered finally. “Me? Certainly not!” said Sirius, looking surprised. “I think it’s an excellent idea!” “You do?” said Harry, his heart lifting. “Of course I do!” said Sirius. “D’you think your father and I would’ve lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?” “But — last term all you did was tell me to be careful and not take risks —” “Last year all the evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry!” said Sirius impatiently. “This year we know that there’s someone outside Hogwarts who’d like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a very good idea!” “And if we do get expelled?” Hermione asked, a quizzical look on her face. “Hermione, this whole thing was your idea!” said Harry, staring at her. “I know it was. . . . I just wondered what Sirius thought,” she said, shrugging. “Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves than sitting safely in school without a clue,” said Sirius.
(OotP, page 371)
I love this scene as well. Sirius cares for Harry's safety first and foremost. Harry being safe is his top priority at every given point. And he's reasonable and logical and treats Harry like someone to protect, not like a friend.
Like, Harry when he has a problem and needs advice throughout books 4 and 5, he calls Sirius. He's Harry's go-to parental figure for advice, and Sirius takes his rule seriously. He gives the advice he honestly thinks is best and ensures Harry's safety and continued survival to the best of his ability.
“It matters because we don’t want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away!” said Sirius angrily. “Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?” Fred and George looked as though they could not care less what the Ministry made of anything. Ron was still white-faced and silent. Ginny said, “Somebody else could have told us. . . . We could have heard it somewhere other than Harry. . . .”
(OotP, pages 476-477)
Again, Harry's safety is Sirius' first priority above everyone else. Harry's happiness and privacy also take precedence over most other things. He doesn't want Harry under even more scrutiny from the ministry and the Wizarding World and protecting him from that is just as important to him.
To me, it feels like people who say he treats Harry like a James replacement didn't read the books....
“It must have been the aftermath of the vision, that’s all,” said Sirius. “You were still thinking of the dream or whatever it was and —” “It wasn’t that,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It was like something rose up inside me, like there’s a snake inside me —” “You need to sleep,” said Sirius firmly. “You’re going to have breakfast and then go upstairs to bed, and then you can go and see Arthur after lunch with the others. You’re in shock, Harry; you’re blaming yourself for something you only witnessed, and it’s lucky you did witness it or Arthur might have died. Just stop worrying. . . .” He clapped Harry on the shoulder and left the pantry, leaving Harry standing alone in the dark.
(OotP, pages 480-481)
And I love this too. How he tries to comfort Harry and make everything easier for him. When the rest of the Order were gossiping about how dangerous his connection to Voldemort is, Sirius is honestly trying to get Harry to worry about it less.
He might be lying here, but he is right about sending Harry to sleep after a sleepless night like they had. And he is right about Harry being in shock and needing the rest. I just, really like how much Sirius cares. Harry just doesn't have other adults in his life who care for him like Sirius does.
But some part of him realized, even as he fought to break free from Lupin, that Sirius had never kept him waiting before. . . . Sirius had risked everything, always, to see Harry, to help him. . . . If Sirius was not reappearing out of that archway when Harry was yelling for him as though his life depended on it, the only possible explanation was that he could not come back. . . . That he really was . . .
(OotP, page 808)
This. Scene. Just kills me.
Like, Harry understands how much Sirius cares about him, and how Sirius always puts him first. He knows the only way Sirius won't drop everything to come and when Harry calls for him is if he can't.
Because Sirius escaped Azkaban when he realized Harry might be in danger from Peter, not for his own safety, but for Harry’s. Sirius dropped everything and moved to live in a cave and eat rats when Harry's scar hurt. He stuck around Hogwarts and Hogsmead during the Triwizard Tournament, when it was crawling with ministry officials because Harry might need him. He was willing to do so much for Harry. And Harry knew this.
I think, given time, they could've had an amazing dynamic, and I wish we had more of Sirius and his care for Harry. That we saw more of his approach to parenting Harry.
594 notes · View notes
tinytennisskirt · 6 months ago
Text
best friend!patrick zweig who is totally not in love with you…
headcanons with a plot <3
warnings: mentions of sex, kissing, marijuana, smoking, casual touches, jealousy, and silent yearningggg
- insists that he drives you home even if you’re the slightest bit tired. you yawn at his place- you’re not driving home. he says it’s to keep you safe but really, he just wants more time with you.
“it’s like twenty minutes out, i’ll drive, it’s nothing.”
“i’m perfectly fine to drive! i just yawned, i’m not tired.”
his foot is down. “yeah, that’s not happening.”
“you’re going to take a bus home? patrick…”
“i’ll take a taxi if it makes you feel better?”
“uh huh.”
- he follows the sidewalk rule. he’s never heard of it before but he does it, just on his own.
- saves you the last slice or even bite of anything he’s eating that’s worth it. he orders a really good burger, the very last bit left is yours. ordering a pizza, the last slice is yours. even a slice of cheesecake, the last bite is yours. bonus points to him for making sure the last bite contains all elements of what he had. the burger has all toppings left on the last bite, the cheesecake has the crust and the caramel drizzle, etc.
- doesn’t get why you choose such shitty men to go out with and waste your best dresses for the wrong eyes. he plays it off as caring about you, but he’s jealousss
“i have another date tonight with tony,” you tell him. he looks up from the can of ravioli he’s opening.
“tony with the hair or tony with the fake hair?”
you tsk, “with the hair.”
“the guy with the weird moustache who runs the laundromat? really?”
“he’s nice!”
“just nice shouldn’t cut it. and doesn’t he have the weird butt-chin thing? come on.”
“he treats me well! compliments me, pays for things…”
“yeah okay, with the laundromat money, you’re sure it’s not going on credit?”
by the end of the conversation he’s telling you that you look nice, a little defeated, but he means it. he can’t talk you out of it truly without first admitting he likes you and secondly, admitting to you he likes you.
- he’s always down to spend time with you. he might say he’s busy but he’s not. and when he is, he moves things around just to see you, but he won’t tell you that.
- he buys the drinks you like just to keep them in the fridge. he buys more every time he goes out so the stock of it keeps growing and soon enough it’s taking up two shelves in his fridge.
“i’m going to make something to eat for dinner,” you say, opening the fridge. and the fridge is near-full of your favourite drink. he usually gets it for you, you’d assume he just had a few but no. he has so many. and the thing is, he doesn’t like the drinks. so it’s just really weird. there’s a million of your drinks and then in the empty spaces, ketchup, mustard, milk, ground beef, cheese, and two red peppers next to the can of opened redbull. what for? who knows. you walk back out to where patrick is sitting and he looks up from his phone.
“we can get groceries. don’t have much right now,” he reaches for his keys and you laugh just a little, which stops him. you hold up one of the drinks and he just stares at it, knowing you know about the shelves upon shelves of it. “they were on sale, fuck off.”
- any time you’ve slept at his place he either gives up his bed and sleeps on the couch, or if you fall asleep on the couch you always wake up the next morning with a comfy blanket over you and a proper pillow under your head. he won’t move you, he’s too afraid to wake you. or on nights when you know you’re staying over or even on a whim, he’s used to giving you his clothes to sleep in because he knows you like the fit of them. they’re comfortable.
- without you coming over, patrick wouldn’t do any of his chores. he’s only motivated by the idea that you might come over and think he’s a slob. you already know he’s a slob, but he does a good job at hiding it. it always smells a bit like febreeze when you come over and not that you mind it- it smells good. but it can’t mask the slight cigarette scent and the scent of his cologne which is without a doubt on every surface he’s ever layed on.
- he’s the guy you can go to for honest opinions because he’ll always shamelessly side with you. a fight with a friend who was clearly in the wrong? he doesn’t even try to see the other perspective, he’s on your side no matter what. your ex and his new girl? he thinks she’s ugly and a downgrade and he’s an asshole for posting the grocery store flowers he got for her. he’s jealous, but he’s good knowing your ex fumbled you.
“they’re yellow.”
“he got her yellow chrysanthemums?”
you chuckle and look at him. “you know what flowers those are?”
“saw them the other day at the store. on sale, $5. same ones, look at the wrapping.” he says, pointing at the laptop. “he’s broke and she doesn’t even know it.”
you laugh. he’s glad to hear it.
- when you go out to bars he pays for your drinks. says you deserve it- you do come over and cook all the time so why not?
- patrick is known to crack a few jokes but when you’re serious, so is he. you’re upset? he’s listening, he won’t make fun of you unless he knows it’ll make you feel better. he’ll sit next to you, let you talk, cry, get really angry, get really sad. he’s there. and he’ll comfort you in whichever way you need. it’s his softer side, the one you bring out. lets you lean against him, he’ll even hug you if you ask.
- he’s a GOOD HUGGER. he gives amazing hugs, they are so enveloping, so comfortable. his arms wrap all the way around and not only do his arms squeeze you the perfect amount of tight, but his hands as well. he’s always warm but not hot, and he smells like good cologne and slightly of cigarettes. he’ll take any chance to hug you and you’ll gladly have it.
- struggling not to think about fucking you when you’re trying on dresses for a date. he’s thinking ‘what will these guys think when they see you?’ and his mind is on one thing that they’ll be thinking. but his mind is on it too, when you come out in a little black tube dress and you ask him if it’s too short. it’s too short for sure.
“what about the cleavage though? too much? not enough?”
“hm?” he’s not paying attention to your words.
“the cleavage. too much?”
“yeah. maybe try a turtleneck.”
yeah yeah it’s wrong to think about sex with your best friend, but the dresses, each shorter and showing more skin than the next we’re making him so incredibly horny. he doesn’t do well with that. goes home and fucks his own hand at the thought. helps to distract himself from the fact you’re out on a date with someone else who might actually get to take off that dress :(
- he’ll show up at your place with whatever it is you say you’ve been wanting and he will make a night out of it. wings? he’s at your door with them in an hour. drinks? yeah he stopped for a six pack of whatever he grabbed. he’s always down to get food. you want to go out? he’ll pick you up to go get whatever it is you’ve been wanting. a good excuse to actually work on bulking. not that it’s date-like.
- he’s got a photo of you in his wallet. it’s a platonic thing, he swears to the girl he takes on a date. she’s pretty but she’s not you. the photo of you sitting pretty with a potted plant doesn’t give off ‘available’ and yeah he kisses her but she is not you. he leaves early and calls you on his way back. he’s pretty sure he’s fucked forever because he’s realizing he only wants you.
- he’s protective at parties. he’s already watching you dance and have fun but when you come there with him and start flirting with guys it provokes him just a little more than it would if he were sober. he’ll walk over and slip his arm around your shoulder or even your waist if he’s had enough to drink and he’ll ask the guy how he’s doing and he’s 100% running interference pretending he’s just out of it from the alcohol and it isn’t the fact he’s jealous.
“hey man,” patrick usually greets the guy, hand resting on the small of your back. he’s always got a big smirk on his face, tongue against his cheek. “what’s up?” the move usually scares the guy off and you playfully hit or elbow him, but it’s worth it.
- his doors are always open to you. you have a key if you need it. so when you show up, soaked from the rain, upset over tony the laundromat guy being the dick patrick was so right about him being (despite not knowing the guy at all), he wraps you in his arms and he listens to the whole story. you’re complaining about genuine men being so hard to find and he’s sitting right there. he just brings his hand to rest against his jaw and looks off to the side at something as you continue speaking and he’s listening, he just hates what he’s hearing.
- he’ll take off whatever jacket he’s wearing if you’re cold. he won’t be happy about it- or look happy about it, but he might be a little happy about it… he’ll complain about what he’s going to do in the cold but the sweater or jacket is on you within five minutes of your ask.
- he’ll begrudgingly do whatever you ask of him. like he does not want to get up at 4:50 in the morning and drive to the hilltop to watch the sunrise. he wants to stay asleep, snoring in his bed, but you wake him up and he hates it, but it’s you and it’s the sunset so he goes with you. but in his still-tired state all he can seem to focus on is the light of the sunrise hitting your skin. he’ll either do it super slowly or begrudgingly, sometimes he might even say no. but it never stays a no.
- again. can’t stand that you keep giving your time to men who don’t know how to treat you. he goes to the bar, he drinks about it a little, he talks to the bartender about you. the bartender knows you by name, knows your favourite album, knows you go out with guys who aren’t him, and he knows you’re beautiful, having your features described by a drunk patrick who uses his hands a lot to gesture. it’s weird when you go to the bar with patrick another night and the bartender already knows your name and the drink you want.
- drunk patrick uses all the self control he has not to tell you he wants you. he almost lets it slip with unfinished sentences. does everything he can to fend himself off, but he’s very close to you when he’s drunk, his already-bad spatial awareness so much worse while impaired. his face always close to yours, nose sometimes hitting yours, he comes so close. hands reach for your waist when he’s near you. you don’t mind it- it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. it’s a different feeling. you manage to wrangle him into his bed and make him drink water. he’s talking to you like there are important things you need to know before he absolutely passes out.
“if that tony guy comes around again i hope he knows i owe him a broken nose,” he’ll say and he’s grinning and you’re just rolling your eyes at him, he’s so stupid. “you have to stop dating these guys, fucking douchebags. i know i’m not much better, but at least i don’t wear axe body spray and pick you up in a beat up honda.”
“patrick, you drive a honda,”
“mine isn’t beat up.” he says. so honest. you laugh at him and hand him back the cup of water. but he says it, “you deserve more than that kind of guy. want you to have someone who really gives a fuck, you know?”
“if i could find one,” you say. half-oblivious, half-looking for him to say something that’ll have meaning. it’s the first time his drunk mind is telling him the feeling in his chest is heartache. oh my god, he feels like such a girl- he just grins, dimples on his cheek crawling all the way up. he covers his face.
- when you’re hanging out with mutual friends, smoking, talking, he’s always taking the seat next to you. your friends all know he’s into you- most of them suspect you’re already dating on the down low, the way you guys are so close. you’re sitting on the couch and his arm is up on the back of the couch behind you, your hand sometimes resting on his leg, you have your own conversations on the side and you’re laughing and leaning toward each other. it’s obvious. he’s obvious. YOU are obvious. and oblivious! painfully.
- patrick will shave his beard for your birthday. he’ll trim it regularly but on your birthday he shaves it all off, it’s an annual thing. bare-faced and you find it so so fun to see him without.
- the dress you wear on your birthday is a little too perfect. the mix of you and your hair done and your makeup and the intention of drinking with your girl friends and asking him how you look before you leave. you usually ask him before you go out. he’s going out with you and your friends, but he comes over a little early, just how things are. he’s always honest.
“you look… wow.” he’s looking at you. you’re standing in front of him, little dress, perfectly fit to your body. and you’re smiling, doing a little spin. and you’re beautiful and god you’re so fucking hot. patrick fears for the possibility of his sober thoughts becoming drunk words later. you’re already unbearably fucking beautiful what is he going to do with himself?
- he’s a touchy drunk. not with everyone, not the same way he is with you. when he drinks his hands are magnetic to you, resting on your hands, hand on the small of your back, your waist, your arm. like i said before, you’re used to it, you don’t mind it, but it’s different when he’s staying somewhat sober because he’s afraid of how he’d act if he had more than three shots. he wouldn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with- it’s not that, it’s the fact he’s scared if he drinks tonight that you in your element, dancing, laughing, having fun in that little dress would provoke him to spill all of his secrets. he’s got a stoic form of self-understanding he’s taking to prevent anything dumb from falling out of his mouth under the influence.
- he does, however, fend off the creepy guys or just the assholes who try and buy you more drinks or even talk to you. he won’t let them get so far as to ask for your name. you whine but he just tells you, “you wouldn’t want to talk to them sober.” and you’re like hmm true. the defender position includes closing your tab, getting you home, and getting you inside safely. and usually you take care of him when he’s drunk or high, but he takes the opportunity very seriously. before he’s helped you get to bed but this particular time you’re asking him to undo the zipper on your dress and you’re lifting your hair.
he’s not going to tell you no, so he undoes the zipper and in seconds you’re stripping in front of him unabashedly and he turns around, arms folded, grinning to himself because of course this was happening. he is not an asshole, so he won’t turn around until you’re dressed, but when he turns around you’re only in one of his shirts that he’s been wondering where it went- and your underwear and you’re asking him to come sit with you because it’s still technically your birthday (it’s not).
he will, but he doesn’t want to stick around too long. despite the lack of alcohol, there’s still a pull to tell you how he feels, but that’s girly. and you’re drunk. he puts you to bed after making you drink water.
- he’s the kind of guy to keep a condom in his wallet- he’s never going to use it, it’s probably expired and worn in front his wallet being in his pocket but he has it in there. in fact it’s right behind the photo of you.
- he also has a stolen street sign in his living room from when he was on tour after high school. it’s custom for all guests visiting his place to slap it before they enter the room. if you don’t, there’s no consequences, but it’s just wrong not to. he will, however, catch YOU on it if you forget. holds you to it in whichever way he can.
- he’s totally debating on kissing you almost every time he’s with you. it’s getting progressively worse every time he’s with you he swears he’s going to do it but he doesn’t want to. (he wants to sooo fucking badly, it’s insane). any time you pass him by, every time you say his name, when you sit next to him, when you’re talking to him about anything, engaging with him, looking him in his eyes. it’s a struggle not to.
and you’re friends, longtime friends so the casual touches get to be too much, even. you cup his face with your hands saying he needs to shave and he’s only staring at your lips.
or you sit sideways next to him on the couch facing him and your hand is on his shoulder and you’re so close to him when you talk he really could just reach over and kiss you.
you sit on his counter while he’s making spaghetti and you’re eating the shredded cheese out of the bag and it’s weird but the height your at, it would be perfect.
- you are the cause of his biggest grins and most laughter. you don’t even have to try. he enjoys your company more than anyone else’s. platonically, romantically, in every way. you are his best friend. you get him on a level even art didn’t.
- he’ll pick you up whenever you need him to. doctors appointment, from a friend’s- so when your self-proclaimed final attempt at a date ends up terribly, he’s the first person you call. you’re all pretty for another piece of shit and patrick has to pretend he’s not happy the guy was so weird. you get in the car and his eyes fall on your collarbone and your thighs and you yourself catch it. his eyes. you pull a knowing little look. “shut up,” he says, driving away without even letting you get your seatbelt on.
- he’s not a door holder very often. maybe for old ladies and kids, and the occasional friend, but he’s holding every door open for you. he even opens the car door for you most times. get back to his place, you don’t want to go home yet, he holds the door for you on your way in. you hit the street sign on the wall before flopping down on his couch. it smells like citrusy febreeze and a bit like his cologne. out of his personal needs of restraint, he tosses you one of his comfy shirts and shorts so you can be out of that little dress. and after you take them to his bathroom to get changed, he’s still feeling the same way about the way you look. it was not the dress’ fault.
- the thing with patrick and other women is he’s never been afraid to go up to a girl, hit on her, he’s hardly been afraid to kiss a girl. he’s pretty confident all around but you are so different. the need to kiss you is all-consuming. he wonders if he should talk to you about things first when he’s never considered more than the flavour of a girl’s lip balm in the past. you make him nervous, sitting there in his clothes. i say there, but you’re next to him, hair behind your ears, talking about how you think you’re done with dating and you’re going to wait until the perfect guy falls into your lap. you’re playing some angle but he’s thinking that it’s a good thing. the conversation turns to joking, he’s teasing you, you tease back it’s just normal.
- of course patrick has a snack pantry. if he doesn’t have groceries, he has snacks. at a random point in conversation you tell him you could really go for an oreo right now and he’s so on that. so you both take a trip to the kitchen and you’re looking in the cabinet and you find the oreos and share them while continuing to talk at the counter. you’re going on about how strange your date was and how you felt if you stayed you’d be on a true crime document and the conversation begins to turn to thanking him for coming to get you. but like mentioned before, he’d always come get you. didn’t matter how far you were but he wouldn’t say that.
“it’s different, it’s not like you picking me up from the dentist, it’s you picking me up when i know you were busy.” you say. he smiles because he really wasn’t that busy- he was just out with friends of course he’d drop them for you. “i just want you to know i’m grateful is all.”
“don’t need to be-“ he says with his mouth full of oreo. “it was nothing, i was nearby anyway.” he wasn’t. he sped. in his honda.
“you’re so weird,” you giggle. “why can’t you just be normal about people thanking you for things you do? you go out of your way far too often.”
patrick chuckles to himself, shutting the package of oreos. he doesn’t do it for anyone else. “how do i be normal about it?”
“you could say ‘you’re welcome’, maybe?” you say. he nods. “i say i’m grateful for you and the things you do for the people you care about, namely me and you say ‘you’re welcome’.”
“we’re rehearsing?” he straightened himself as if getting ready and you pressed your hand to your forehead, smiling. “go for it. say how grateful you are for me and the things i do for you. only you.”
“so stupid, just say you’re welcome.” you giggle, throwing your hands up in the air in defeat. he grins, a sly grin, dimple on full display, gorgeous. he turns away from you to put away the oreos (if you weren’t there he wouldn’t have put them away). he shuts the cabinet door. “patrick?”
“yeah?”
and he’s met with your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss.
- the way patrick kisses is very passionately. that’s who he is. he kissed a lot of girls in high school, met a few on tour that were worth making out with. his kisses are full of passion. but this kiss is from you, so he receives it like a gift. surprisingly politely. he’s never ever been caught so off-guard by a kiss. he didn’t see it coming at all. it’s a small kiss, a few seconds of lips fitting together perfectly, but you pull away. his face stays close to yours. he’s never had a kiss like this before. in the crowd of girls he’s ever kissed. it’s never felt like this. and it was so small.
“i’m sorry,” you say, hushed, but you’re smiling, so how sorry are you? he grins and in an instant, you’re kissing again, deeper, more, hands in his hair and his on your waist, holding tight. it’s all he’s thought about for a month on end. there’s something better than drugs and it’s this, patrick thinks. your back against the pantry door, him against you.
- he’s never been so in need of a kiss before. he’s never been kissed like this before. it’s somehow everything he’s ever wanted and everything he’s never gotten from every girl he’s ever kissed. and the thing about patrick is, like mentioned, he’s a moderately horny guy but this to him is all he wants. he only wants to kiss you. a few minutes pass and he’s doing something he’s never done and that’s talking it out with you. but as soon as he admits he likes you, he’s telling you to shut up because you’re giggling and it’s adorable and you can’t be calling him out on his crush like that…
- you admit to being a little oblivious and maybe admitting to repressing feelings because you weren’t entirely sure- and he’s instantly on making fun of you for it. he makes fun of himself for not seeing it sooner or for making a move sooner but there’s no room for apologies between another kiss. a kiss full of laughter where you just can’t stop laughing but you also won’t stop kissing him and it’s kind of perfect.
350 notes · View notes
cheshireliam · 1 month ago
Text
"Wrapped in Wicked Romance" Story Event: Epilogue
Ring Schwartz
Tumblr media Tumblr media
This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.
Read this before interacting
Ring: I’m asking you out on a date! 
His date proposal that sounded more like a request to duel left me standing there wide-eyed in shock.  
Nica: … Ring. You’re not challenging her to a fight. Can you try again, but be more relaxed this time? 
Nica shrugged in exasperation, thinking the same thing I was.
Nica: Also, you didn't explain yourself well.
Tumblr media
Ring: Oh, uhh… right. My bad. 
Ring: We couldn’t have a proper date with all that happened the other day, so… 
Ring: I want to take you out on a date again. Can… can I?
His voice was shaking as he nervously asked for my response.
I couldn't bear to reject him, seeing that he was trying his best.
Besides… I realised after our last date that I wanted to get to know him better, so there was no reason for me to refuse. 
Kate: I’d love to. 
Tumblr media
Ring: R-really!? I’m not dreaming… right? YES…! 
Nica: This is reality. Good grief… look at you getting so excited as if you two are really in a relationship.
Darius: Isn’t that great, Ring?
The next day, Ring and I went for our date right away. 
While waiting outside Crown’s castle, I saw Ring sprinting towards me from a distance at full speed. 
Ring: … S-sorry! I’m late…! 
Kate: No, you’re right on time. I’m the one who came early. 
Kate: You arrived first and waited for me the last time, so… I thought I’d be the one to wait this time.
Tumblr media
Ring: I-is that so? Then, next time I’ll come early t— 
Ring: Ah… no, nevermind. 
Ring’s words cut off mid-sentence, realising there might not be a next date. 
That kind of made me feel lonely.) 
(... I never realised how badly I wanted to spend more time with him.) 
Whether it was his endearing shyness due to being unaccustomed to interacting with women that made me want to tease him a little, or his kindness for thinking about others, or even the evil side of him that could mercilessly kill under Darius’ orders… I wanted to know even more about him. 
I felt that one date wouldn't be enough, and so…
Kate: Next date, it’ll be your turn to come early.
I picked up where Ring cut himself off, so that we would entirely erase the possibility of future dates happening.
Ring: Y-yeah… that's right!
Tumblr media
Ring: Even though I can’t fall asleep the night before our dates… I’ll do my best to wake up early.
Ring nodded so vigorously that I was worried his head might fall. 
I felt relieved and at the same time, my chest was filled with a tingling warm feeling .
Ring: But first of all, let’s make sure today’s date goes smoothly.
Ring: Y-your outfit today… It reminds me of the colour of Bluebells. It looks beautiful. 
Ring: A-and your hairstyle… it’s amazing. It’s braided like chains…
Ring: … I think it suits you and… you look lovely. 
Kate: I discussed with the maids at Crown’s castle before deciding on my clothes and hairstyle! Thank you for the compliments.
Ring: I see… alright, I’ve done the compliments part…
Ring: Next is… uhh… you can hold my arm. 
Ring said and thrust his right arm out at me.
(The last time, he made an excuse saying he was “warming up”.)
The slight improvement made me smile tenderly, and I gently placed my hand on his arm.
Kate: Thank you. Well then, let’s get going!
And so, we went to The Scala, which we couldn't do the last time, and watched a play. 
Afterwards, we explored the city while shopping, and I introduced him to a restaurant that was both affordable and served delicious food.
We spent our time to the fullest, enjoying everything London had to offer.
Ring: … Everything felt so new to me.
Tumblr media
Ring: Thank you for the enjoyable date, Robin.
Kate: I’m glad you had fun! By the way, what was the most impressive experience for you?
Ring: … Definitely Liam’s acting. 
Ring: He’s usually all sparkly and pink, but when he went on stage today, he was more of a glaring black colour. 
It was a unique description, but it was clear as day how moved he was by Liam’s performance.
Kate: Fufu, I’ll make sure to tell Liam that you enjoyed his performance! 
Kate: Also… can I ask you another question?
Ring: What is it? 
Kate: … Was today’s date also Darius’ order? 
Tumblr media
Ring: …
Ring: … Looks like you’ve seen right through me.
Seemingly having accepted the situation, Ring began explaining. 
Apparently, Darius suggested the idea of going on a date today because Ring and I weren’t able to interact properly the last time.
Kate: I see…
Ring: … Robin? 
Kate: I had a hunch this was all Darius’ idea, but…
Kate: I also kind of hoped that you asked me out because you wanted to… so I feel a little lonely. 
Tumblr media
Ring: ah… 
(I guess I was just selfish for wanting to know the truth… now I feel somewhat embarrassed.) 
Kate: Sorry for making it awkward! Let’s head back.
Ring: W-wait! It’s true that it was Dari’s idea this time…
Ring: But even if he didn't make the suggestion, I think I would’ve still invited you on a date myself. 
Ring: You’re a dangerous person… with a curse that makes my heart race every time. 
Ring: I think… I need to get to know more about you and come up with a strategy to counter it. 
Ring: So… I want to spend more time with you.
(A curse that makes his heart race…?) 
Of course, I wasn't a Cursed One. The reason why Ring’s heart was racing was likely because he isn’t used to being around women. 
(But… regardless of the reason, I’m glad to know he wants to get to know me better.)
Kate: I want to have more time to get to know you too. So… I’ll look forward to that from now on.
Kate: By all means, find out a lot of things about me and figure out your strategy.
Ring: Y-yeah… bring it on!
We’ve only just met not too long ago, so there were still many things about each other that were unknown to us.
Even so, one thing was certain— we both wanted to know more about each other. 
I don't know what kind of relationship we’ll build in the future as I grow more familiar with Ring…
But, right now, I’m just happy that we share the same feelings. 
154 notes · View notes