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poguehearted77 · 1 month ago

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Oh, Baby!

Summary-> Today is Rafe's birthday and you're determined to throw him the best surprise party before the baby comes in a few days.

☆Some more content from the baby steps couple☆

It was a warm summer night, the kind where the air hummed softly with the songs of crickets and a gentle breeze whispered through the trees. The streets were quiet as you and Rafe drove home, the headlights illuminating the road ahead. The stars sparkled in the clear sky above, but they paled in comparison to the anticipation bubbling in your chest.

“I just wish you’d checked to see that the restaurant had space before we came all the way here,” Rafe sighed, his grip firm on the wheel. He glanced over at you, his brow furrowed slightly.

You bit your lip, hiding a smile. You’d already called the restaurant weeks ago and knew they were fully booked. That was the whole point. You needed an excuse to get Rafe dressed up in the nicest clothes the two of you could find without him getting suspicious. It was his birthday, after all, and you wanted tonight to be perfect.

"It was supposed to be one of our final nights together with just the two of us," you murmured, playing your part with feigned disappointment. Your hand rested on the swell of your nine-months-pregnant belly.

The truth was, you’d been planning this for the past month—tirelessly working around Rafe’s attentive nature to keep it a secret. He knew you too well, always noticing the slightest change in your demeanour, and you had to put on the performance of your life.

If he’d caught wind of what you were up to, he’d have put a stop to it immediately. Rafe would’ve thrown a fit if he knew you were doing all this while so close to your due date.

When the two of you finally pulled into the driveway of your generously sized home, Rafe parked the car and came around to your side to help you out, as always. He offered his hand, his protectiveness shining through, and you accepted with a grateful smile.

He makes a teasing remark about your slight waddle, "She's comin' any day now isn't she?" You sigh, "I hope so, but she seems to be getting comfortable." Your eyes glimmer as you watch Rafe unlock the front door. But as soon as the door opened, the quiet night erupted into shouts of “Surprise!”

Rafe’s jaw dropped slightly, and for the first time in a long while, you saw genuine shock in his eyes. The foyer was filled with friends and family, grinning and clapping, balloons crowding the ceiling.

Rafe blinked, then broke into a wide grin, pointing at you. “I knew you were up to something,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

You laughed, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, his other hand gently resting over your baby bump. “Happy birthday,” you whispered, feeling his lips press to your temple in gratitude.

You led everyone through the house to the backyard, and that’s when the real surprise hit. The backyard was transformed into a magical wonderland of twinkling fairy lights strung overhead, long tables set with glowing candles, and cozy seating arranged perfectly under the night sky. It was breathtaking.

Rafe took a slow step forward, his gaze sweeping across the setup, a mix of awe and emotion crossing his face. “Wow,” he said softly, looking down at you before his expression morphed into one of concern. “Please tell me you didn't set this up, Y/n.”

You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling. “Calm down, I made John B and Topper do it,” you admitted with a cheeky grin. Rafe let out a short laugh, his brows raising. “John B and Topper? Together? Without killing each other?”

“Barely,” you teased. “I supervised, don’t worry.”

He was about to respond when a small voice broke through the chatter. “Happy birthday, Uncle Rafe!”

A little whirlwind of blonde curls and bright eyes ran toward him—it was three-year-old JJ in a white frilly dress. Rafe crouched down and scooped her up with ease, laughing as she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck.

“Thanks, sunshine,” he said, tossing her gently in the air.

As you watched him, surrounded by loved ones, holding little JJ close, and smiling brighter than you’d seen in a while, you felt the weight of your efforts melt away. It was all worth it. This was a night you’d both remember forever.

Maybe you'd be lucky to erase the forming memory of the radiating pain that coursed through your abdomen. You found yourself fisting the hand towels in the guest bathroom after your bladder incontinence had caught up to you during the middle of Rafe's speech.

God, what did you eat today? Your stomach had been hurting ever since you came back from the restaurant even though you never ate there. Sometimes you get a break, other times there's a sharp reminder shooting through you. Of course, you considered the possibility of contractions but you denied it.

There was no way in hell you were letting this baby come out on Rafe's birthday.

There's a knock on the door. "Just a second--!" Your voice is hoarse, the words coming out through clenched teeth. "Y/n? It's Sarah." With a deep breath, you reach for the door, revealing the pleasant face of your sister-in-law.

"Is everything okay? Rafe is looking for you." You nod, "Yep, everything's--" Another one. Your jaw clenches and your eyes close, doing your best to focus on the conversation at hand. By the time your eyes opened, Sarah was sliding past you into the bathroom.

"Why's the floor all wet.." Her eyes slowly trail from the wet tiles back up to you where you were still gripping the towel in your right palm. Oblivious to the gears grinding in her mind. "Oh shit." You shake your head over and over, immediately shutting the door on you both.

"Sarah, No. No! You can't tell anyone. It's Rafe's birthday." She couldn't believe what she was hearing, her brows furrowed, "Are you joking? You're in labour! You have to tell him and you have to get to the hospital like now."

"No, Please! Just give me 20 minutes, then I'll go." She couldn't believe she was actually considering it but the sheer look of desperation in your eyes convinced her.

"Fine, and not one second more or I'll deliver your baby myself." She threatens with a smile but she's a Cameron, she means every word. "I love you!" You whistle as you head upstairs to change into a different dress and meet everyone back outside.

"Baby, where did you go for so long? What's with the outfit change?" Your eyes are briefly distracted by the servers gracefully floating around the yard with the requested entrées. "O-oh, I started to feel a little hot in the other one--so," There's a contraction, not as bad as some of the others but you're able to suppress it and blame it on thirst.

"Here," He gets you a glass of water and helps you into your chair on the side of his at the head of the table. As if you'd forgotten the itinerary of the party you planned yourself, you're almost startled when the slide show of nearly all the images you could find of Rafe throughout the years is displayed on the projector.

He turns in his seat to glance at you, "You did not," It was all too much for him. You're the woman of his dreams, going above and beyond to show him how much he means to you and this was just a small example of proof.

The slideshow is touching, cute, and funny when the images of baby Rafe covered in pasta pop up. Once it's over John B suggests you say a few words. Kelce and his childish antics start a chant "Speech! Speech! Speech!" Your eyes roll, and with a minor struggle, you rise to your feet, Rafe standing beside you.

"Thank you all for coming, and helping me celebrate Rafe's 25th--" Oh boy, this was a big one, your mouth falls open in a silent cry and your right hand claws into the meat of Rafe's upper arm, it's so tight that he leans into it and his face contorts with discomfort and worry.

The electronic music is still playing softly in the background as all eyes are on you. "Y/n, Y/n, Are you--" Your lip is caught between your teeth bearing down with the pain, nodding aggressively. "We're having the baby!?" He panics but a huge smile is etched onto his features. "We're having the baby." You confirm and he hugs you.

The table is filled with cheers and glasses clinking together. "Go! Go!" Sarah shouts, and you both spring into action. At least Rafe does, he nearly leaves you behind with all the nerves running through his system.

Helping you back inside the house before he runs up the stairs, skipping two steps at a time, quickly coming down with the baby bag you'd both prepared weeks ago.

The next hour is a blur, one second you're standing in your living room waiting for Rafe to bring down your things, and suddenly you're in a backless hospital gown being strapped into the hospital bed, hooked up like a computer.

There are IVs, heart monitors, and everything else you could identify from your binge sessions of Grey's Anatomy.

“Mrs. Cameron?” A voice cut through the haze as the door opened. The doctor entered, glancing down at the clipboard in her hands. Her calm expression faltered as she scanned the notes. “Oh, wow,” she muttered under her breath before looking up at you.

“Is... is everything okay?” you asked nervously, gripping the bed’s railing as you shot a glance at Rafe, who was perched anxiously at your bedside.

“Everything’s fine,” the doctor assured you quickly, though her tone carried a note of disbelief. “But I have to say—I’m a little shocked at how far along you are.”

Your stomach dropped. “Far along? What do you mean?”

“You’re already at nine centimetres,” the doctor explained, flipping another page on her clipboard. “You’re practically ready to push.” That is not what you wanted to hear.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Wait—nine? That fast? But I barely knew I was in labour until a few hours ago!” Rafe glances at you in agreement before doing a double take. "A few hours? I thought you just found out at dinner?"

"I knew since we left the restaurant." You coyly admit, and his eyes practically bulge from their sockets. "That was hours ago! Why didn't you tell me?" He seemed almost hurt but his concern overtook it.

"Because it's your birthday, I didn't want the baby to steal your day." He leans up, his gaze softening at your words. "Oh baby, I'd be so lucky to share my birthday with her." His words fall on deaf ears and you pout, eyes glancing at the clock.

10:47

"Well, Mrs. Cameron. It's almost time to start pushing, we're going to transfer you to the delivery room." Everything happened so quickly. Your gaze can hardly focus on anything in the halls as you are pushed past them.

There's one familiar sensation that remained an unchanged variable throughout the whole process. The reassuring hold of Rafe's hand with yours. No matter what, he held on.

When you squeezed his hand so tight with every laborious push. "You're doing good, just a few more pushes and she'll be crowning." Your body throws itself back, defeated. Eyes heavy and your hair sticking to your forehead as you wept.

"I can't, I can't do it. I'm sorry." Rafe's eyes turn mournful, wishing he could take on this pain for you. "Hey, hey. None of that. You're a Cameron now. We get shit done, and you're doing it. You're doing so well, baby. Just keep going, and I'll be right here with you, okay? I love you." He gently moves the hairs sticking to your forehead, placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. His words give you the strength to keep going.

"Give us another big push in three, two, one-" Your throat is ripped raw from the pained shouts, but it was so worth it. It’s not long before you finally welcomed your baby girl into the world, at 12:01am.

"She's perfect," Rafe says, in awe of his newborn daughter who's delicately swaddled in those hospital blankets at peace in your hold. She looked up at you with her glassy eyes, lips moving in ways that Rafe could swear were a tribute to you.

"I can't believe she came out of me," It's an untraditional thing for one to say after giving birth but it's how you felt. You were still in disbelief at the whole process. From the day you looked at those two lines on that pregnancy test in St. Tropaz, to the gender reveal on the beach all the way to this very moment.

"You did amazing," Rafe reassures you and only a few moments pass where you enjoy the peace of the new reality of your tiny family. There's a soft knock on the door, and Sarah's head pops in awaiting clearance to be let in.

"Come in," You giggle, so excited to introduce her to her aunt, uncle and cousin. John B's face is overcome with shock and Sarah's with glee while JJ focuses on what she wants.

"Oh my god, she's so precious." Sarah beams as she peers over to get a closer look, and you offer her up into her aunt's hold. "What's her name?" John B is the first to ask, and Rafe grins down at you. "Say hello to, Melody Ava Cameron."

Sarah's eyes immediately misted over, she'd been told about the pleasant encounter you both had at the beach with a very lively toddler, but you knew that wasn't the name that touched her the most. "Melody? You named her after mom?" Rafe nods, a tear slipping from his eye as well.

You knew how much she meant to both of them before she passed, you couldn't think of a better name. Rafe places an arm around his sister as they both admire the baby.

"It's a perfect name, I love it. Congratulations."

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bunny-1111 · 2 months ago

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Eyes dont miss - Theo Nott x reader

Description: When you try to hide your anxiety from your observant boyfriend Theodore, it comes in crashing on you in the middle of the night, and you can't run from it any longer.

TW: anxiety attack

Word count: 1.3k

Fluff, unedited

...

There was little that Theodore missed.

In his eyes, he carried a loaded gun.

Ammo full of meticulous attention to detail.

He had you studied, fluent in you as if you were a language, the twitches in your eyes a verb, the tone in your voice an adjective.

You thought you hid yourself well, well enough to go unnoticed.

But he watched, even when you insisted on being ok.

He was demanding, a trait both good and bad, his stern demeanour insisting on answers, meeting your same stubborn answer, you were okay. Liar.

When it came to you, Theodore wouldn't allow himself to leave the slightest detail unscathed.

He watched and observed as you drew on your arms during class.

How you picked at the skin around your nails under the table of the great hall during dinner, your twitching hands fiddling as if your fingers depended on it.

How would you chew the gums at the side of your mouth

How he felt your fingers claw a little deeper into his shoulder when he suggested you both turn in for bed.

To Theodore, these things were concerning, though, when he would approach and accuse you of being undeniably going through it, you would deny, deny, deny.

Until you both hit the worst of it, in a cold winter night when you couldn't run away from it anymore. In the still and quiet hour of three am, you pant, in a hot sweat, string in a nightmare until Theo woke, immediately halting you up much to your fright.

As you sat up, the heavy rise and fall of your chest began to set him off too, his own breath hitched watching you fall apart for reasons above him.

His heavy hand polished up and down your back, he meant to be gentle, but he couldn't stop his mind to remember to be tender.

"What's going on" his voice echos through your ears

"Why are you yelling?!" you scream, your hands glued to your head, you wanted to rip your hair out there and then.

"What? Darling, talk to me," he quietly softly. He wasn't yelling, though to you. To you, his voice boomed with volume; just focus, you reminded yourself, come on idiot, stop this, stop it, focus, focus, focus.

Your hands fall in front of your face as you dig your nails into your skin time and time over.

When Theodore's hands take hold of your own, realise the almost bloody palms spread out, lacing his palms into yours.

"Feel my hand, hear my voice, c'mon" he whispered out.

His words cut through the fog like a lifeline, grounding you in their gentleness. Your head spun, reality blurred at the edges, but the steady warmth of his hands kept you tethered.

"Look at me," Theo urged softly, voice barely a murmur, as if afraid to startle you. He didn’t pull you out of the moment harshly, didn’t demand you shake it off. No, he anchored you, the pad of his thumb brushing along the back of your knuckles, each slow pass soothing, steadying.

He kept as much distance as he could, as if you were roadkill like he was gently aiding you off the road.

"Feel that, love?" he whispered, his dark eyes locked on yours with an intensity that was grounding in its calmness. "That’s me. I’m right here. I’ve got you."

You nodded, though the tremor in your hands betrayed you. Theo’s gaze remained unwavering, watching every flicker in your expression, the tiny cracks forming in your armour. You felt his hand drift to your cheek, warm and solid, the weight of it reassuring.

"I—" you started, words tangling in your throat, the shame of it making you flinch. The anxiety had been building for days, creeping up on you like a shadow. You'd convinced yourself you could manage, that you didn't need anyone, but Teddy wouldn't have that.

You weren't clueless. You brushed off his attempts of interrogation, but at this point, you were defenceless.

“You don’t have to explain it all, you know,” he murmured, his voice carrying the hint of a smile, as if he already understood without needing your words. "Just breathe. With me."

He guided you, slow and rhythmic, his own breathing soft and even. You mirrored him, matching his inhales and exhales, feeling the wild storm inside begin to quiet.

“Better?” he asked after a moment, not rushing, just waiting for you. His hand didn’t leave yours, fingers laced like he wouldn’t dare let go. And somehow, that small gesture made you feel safer than you’d felt in days.

You nodded again, feeling your heartbeat slow, the panic that had gripped you loosening, dissolving under his patient watch.

“Theo…” your voice broke a little, shaky and raw, but he just shook his head, his lips quirking up in that way that made you feel seen. Not judged. Not pitied. Just seen.

“Don’t worry about it,” he whispered, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with the back of his hand. “I’ll always be here, yeah? I've got eyes on you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

And in that moment, you knew he meant it.

Theo's gaze softened even further, though his grip on your hand remained firm, grounding. The quiet between you both was filled with his silent assurances, a warmth that felt like a promise of safety. Your heart felt exposed, raw, but under Theo’s watchful eyes, vulnerability didn’t feel like a weakness. It felt like trust.

He shifted closer, closing the small gap between you, his knees brushing against yours as he sat across from you on the bed. “This… whatever it is you’re carrying,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “you don’t have to carry it alone.”

You hesitated, your mind flickering back to the countless times you’d brushed off his concern with a casual smile or a quick change of subject. You’d thought you were sparing him, protecting him from the weight of it all. But Theo was persistent, as if each little gesture you’d thought went unnoticed only made him more determined to understand.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, bringing you back from the haze of your thoughts. “You don’t have to be okay all the time, you know?” His voice was calm, unwavering. “Not with me. I’d rather have your truth than your silence.”

A shiver ran down your spine, the walls you’d built up crumbling in the quiet of his words. Slowly, almost hesitantly, you nodded, feeling a strange sort of relief wash over you, like a weight finally lifted.

"I… I didn’t want you to worry,” you whispered, your voice so soft it almost felt like a confession. “Didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle it.”

Theo tilted his head, an understanding smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Love, if handling it means suffering alone, I’d rather you not handle it at all.” His tone was gentle, but the conviction in his words was unyielding. "You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”

The sincerity in his voice sent a sense of warmth through your chest, leaving you feeling exposed yet comforted in a way you hadn’t felt in so long. Slowly, he reached up, his hand brushing the hair back from your face, his touch feather-light but grounding.

You took a shaky breath, letting yourself lean into his touch, allowing the weight of the moment to settle. For the first time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, it was okay to not be okay. Because Theo wasn’t going anywhere. And for him, your honesty mattered more than anything you could hide.

The panic and the anxiety might not be going anytime soon, but you knew neither was Theo.

“Thank you,” you breathed, the words barely audible, but Theo heard. He always did. He listened, and watched and understood, he loved with all his senses. He never missed.

...

A/N, my darlings, I'm back writing again. Requests are open, and if any of you suffer from anxiety, my inbox is always a safe place for you to come and talk about it, or anything in general.

Peace and love,

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daisymbin · 9 days ago

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hellaur can i request 35. "you have no idea how much i want you right now." with cheol pls <3 luv ur writings

I think this might be my first suggestive cheol request???? omg thank u <3

full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list

suggestive prompt #35: "you have no idea how much I want you right now."

the silence in the car was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the engine and the occasional sound of your hand fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. seungcheol was unusually quiet, his fingers tight on the steering wheel, knuckles almost white. you glanced at him for the fifth time, your unease growing with every passing second.

“are you okay?” you finally asked, voice softer than usual.

his jaw clenched. he didn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead.

“cheol,” you tried again, leaning slightly toward him, “you’ve barely said a word since we left. did i do something?”

his lips parted, but the words didn’t come. instead, he exhaled sharply, gripping the wheel tighter.

“you didn’t do anything.” his voice was low, strained, like he was holding something back.

you frowned, watching the way his shoulders tensed, the way his eyes refused to meet yours.

“then what is it?” you pressed, heart thumping a little faster. “you’re acting weird.”

his fingers flexed against the leather, and he finally turned to glance at you, just for a moment. there was something in his gaze—something heavy, dark, and unspoken. it sent a shiver down your spine.

“it’s nothing,” he muttered, turning his attention back to the road, but the tightness in his voice betrayed him.

“cheol,” you said firmly this time, refusing to let it go, “talk to me. you’re scaring me.”

his laugh was dry, almost bitter. “scaring you? that’s the last thing i want to do.”

“then what’s wrong?” you demanded, frustration creeping into your tone. “you’re not yourself. just tell me.”

his grip on the wheel loosened slightly, and he pulled the car over to the side of the road, the sudden motion making your stomach flip. he shifted into park and leaned back against his seat, running a hand through his hair.

the tension in the small space was suffocating.

“cheol?” your voice was quieter now, almost hesitant.

he finally turned to face you fully, his dark eyes locking onto yours. the intensity in them made your breath hitch.

“you really don’t know, do you?” he said, voice rough and low, like he was struggling to keep himself together.

your brows furrowed. “know what?”

he let out a humorless chuckle, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “you have no idea how much i want you right now.”

the words hit you like a freight train, stealing the air from your lungs. you stared at him, heart pounding so hard it was a wonder he couldn’t hear it.

“w-what?” you stammered, the heat rising to your cheeks, tainting them pink.

his gaze dropped to your lips, lingering for just a second before meeting your eyes again. “you heard me.”

you couldn’t look away, couldn’t move, couldn’t even think. the way he was looking at you: like he was barely holding himself back; it sent a rush of heat through your entire body.

“cheol…” you whispered, voice barely audible.

he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours where your hands rested on your lap. the touch was so light, yet it set your skin on fire.

“you don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl now. “sitting there, looking at me like that, asking me what’s wrong… you’re driving me insane.”

you swallowed hard, your lips parting, but no words came out. the car felt too small, too hot, the air thick with unspoken tension.

“say something,” he pleaded, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin. his touch was gentle, but his eyes, his eyes were anything but. they were full of want, of restraint barely hanging by a thread.

“i…” you started, but the words got caught in your throat. you leaned into his touch without meaning to, your body betraying you.

“do you have any idea how hard it is to keep my hands to myself when you’re this close?” he asked, his forehead resting against yours now. his breath was warm against your lips, and you could feel the tension radiating off him in waves.

your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, your heart racing as his words sank in.

“then don’t,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

his breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of you moved. the weight of what you’d just said hung in the air between you, thick and electric.

“don’t tempt me,” he warned, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was no mistaking the heat in it.

you opened your eyes, meeting his gaze head on. “what if i want to?”

the last thread of his restraint snapped. his lips hovered over yours for the briefest moment before he closed the distance, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was as desperate as it was tender. his hand tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, all the tension from earlier erupting into a wildfire.

when he pulled back, both of you were breathless, his forehead still pressed to yours. his thumb traced lazy circles on your cheek, his eyes dark and searching.

“we’re not doing this here,” he said, his voice steady but laced with need.

“then where?” you whispered, your heart still pounding.

his lips curved into a small, dangerous smirk. “you’ll see.”

and with that, he started the car again, the tension between you far from resolved, but the promise of what was to come hanging heavy in the air.

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fleurre · 4 months ago

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LATE NIGHT DRIVE ⟡ 𝒻. 이희승

biker!hee x f!r ✶ your boyfriend shows up in the middle of the night to take you on a ride g! fluff, est rel, flirty hee w! kissing, skinship ( 1042 ) daily

suki’s note .. reposted, biker hee is still stuck in my head

it was almost midnight when the sound of an engine revving echoed through the street, making you flinch in surprise.

you could recognise that deep rumble anywhere.

it was heeseung’s bike.

dashing to your window, you drew the curtains aside in one quick motion.

you immediately spotted the unmistakable figure of your boyfriend, his bike parked by the curb side of the road, signature leather jacket gleaming under the dim glow of the street lamp.

you watched as he swung a leg over his bike, heavy boots landing on the pavement with a small thud.

placing one foot on the foot rest, he leaned against his bike as he took his helmet off, hair slightly tousled from the movement. bringing his gloved hands up to his mouth, he bit down onto leather, pulling it away from his hand with a tilt of his head.

there was a small grin playing at the corners of his lips, as if he knew you were watching him from your room above, the thought of it sending butterflies straight to your stomach.

right then, he looked up, eyes meeting yours in a warm grin.

“hey gorgeous,” he called out to you, his voice cutting through the quiet street. “you busy?”

you couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle, though your arms were crossed in front of your chest in a futile attempt to dissuade his behaviour.

“you know you can’t do that this late at night, my neighbours are going to complain again.”

he shrugged, smirking up at you. “then let me whisk you off before they come for you.”

you rolled your eyes in feigned annoyance, though your previous dismay at him had already dissolved away into nothing. it was almost impossible to stay upset at him, not when your heart was practically soaring with happiness at his sudden visit.

you sighed, knowing that you had already lost the battle before it even began.

“give me a minute,” you said to him before closing your windows and drawing the curtains.

turning back to your room, you quickly changed into a pair of jeans and slipped on a t-shirt over your pyjamas before making your way downstairs to greet your boyfriend.

the moment you unlocked your front door, heeseung stood up from his bike, walking up to you with a boyish grin. he held both of his hands behind his back, stopping right in front of you.

you raised your eyebrow at him. “what are you playing at now?”

“nothing, just…” his voice trailed off, and from behind his back, he pulled a small bouquet of roses, handing it to you with an excited smile, “a small gift for the prettiest girl.”

you looked up at him in surprise, taking the bouquet into your hands. somehow, despite your boyfriend’s notorious obsession with driving at high speeds, the flowers still remained in perfect arrangement.

“thank you,” your voice was a hushed whisper, owing to your confusion at the unexpected gift. you looked up at him happily, “but what’s the special occasion?”

at that moment, a gentle breeze blew past, making you shiver a little. almost immediately, heeseung slipped off his leather jacket, draping it over your shoulders instead.

the familiar smell of his cologne mixed with the light smell of gasoline surrounded you, a smell you had started to find comfort in. you instinctively tugged the jacket closer to your body, relishing in the familiar warmth it provided. and in the corner of your eye, you caught heeseung’s lips curving up into a smile.

“does it have to be an occasion?” he asked softly, hands resting against your hips as he took a step closer to you.

you swallowed, your pulse quickening at his sudden proximity. “no, but…”

“i missed my girl, and wanted to give her some flowers. is that a good enough explanation for you?” one of his hands now cupped your jaw, tilting your head up slightly so you couldn’t look away.

“i guess so.” you mumbled, noticing his grip on your hips tightening, keeping you posted right where he wanted you. “what would you like in return then?”

“a kiss should suffice.” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. he leaned down, but stopped when his lips were just centimeters away from yours. you pouted, tiptoeing to try to close the gap, only for him to pull away.

“let me kiss you, you jerk.” you grumbled, hitting him lightly on the chest.

heeseung chuckled lowly, his smile widening. he brushed his thumb across your bottom lip, while his other hand pulled you in closer by the waist. “or what?” he whispered teasingly.

“oh, shut up.” you glared at him, though it was clear that it wasn’t vexation in your eyes, but desperation. just as he was about to respond, your hand was already pressed against the back of his neck, pulling him down into you.

if he wanted to, he could have easily fought against it. but he had been craving your touch all day long, and he found his resistance crumbling instantly, letting you pull him down until your soft lips pressed against his.

time seemed to slow down around you, and all you could feel was the way his lips moving slowly against yours in an earnest craving. his fingers digged into your waist, pressing his body impossibly close to you. your hand trailed up his neck and into his hair, weaving your way through his locks in a way that almost made his knees buckle.

you pulled away slowly, your breaths mingling together as you rested your forehead against his. heeseung’s face was flushed a light shade of red, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin.

“still down for a ride?” his voice was a breathy whisper.

“i would never say no.”

heeseung beamed, his hand dropping from your face and slipping perfectly into your hands. and you let him drag you out into the cool night, your laughter echoing through the empty streets.

you know you’ll have to face angry neighbours the next morning, knocking on your door and reprimanding you for making a ruckus. but you couldn’t care less right now, your hands wrapped tightly around his waist as he drove off into the night.

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blackknight-kai · 3 months ago

Note

Let me start saying I love your blog, reblogs and headcanons, truly, all of the above🩷🩷

If you’re comfortable with the question, do you have any for the Destined One with a female virgin reader?

So I wanna say thank you 🫶🫶🫶🫶 I haven’t quite shared my own head canons much but I don’t have any issue sharing them 🫶 others do a much better job of it so I’ve left it to them. But! Your ask comes at a wonderful time as I needed a break from writing a fic 💀 (kill me im up to 20k)

Let’s get after it! Destined One & a female virgin head canons? I’ll give it a shot! There will be a nsfw section below sorry if that’s not your thing. I wasn’t super explicit on body parts etc but let me know if you guys want a Sun Wukong one? I’d try.

If you’re NOT in a relationship yet and he finds out? (Be it you told him outright or it comes out in passing conversation)

He’d would remain expressionless and quiet as usual. Not wanting to make a big deal out of it and remain respectful

But if you look closely you can see him swallowing thickly at the new information

Will NOT treat you differently

He has a LOT of feelings for you and knowing you haven’t shared yourself with someone else, while not a huge deal he’s never really cared one way or another, it’s something he finds himself thinking about often.

It makes him a little hot under the collar sometimes when he looks at you and remembers what you’d said.

NSFW - on the very rare occasions that he takes some time to himself or you’re not around, in the quiet he puts his goal to the side for just a moment and allows himself to think about his wishes and whims. Specially how he’d touch you and make it good for you because you deserve to be treated like you’re special and HE wants to be the one to do it.

If you’re in a relationship and it either came up naturally or during a more…heated moment.

Would absolutely freeze. Like body full on screenshot kinda freeze - only his tail would flick and twitch as he processes

Because honestly it hadn’t occurred to him before but it is NOW. He’s thought of you and making love with you but first or not first hadn’t been a topic of thought

He’d probably internally get flustered and his heart would race ridiculously but on the outside his expression would appear stoic or mildly surprised

Wouldn’t try to pressure you or make a big deal out of it, as though it doesn’t matter one way or another besides making extra sure you’re comfortable

His tail would eventually give him away though as it would be swishing behind him happy and interested as the information settles in his brain

Dude would be first and foremost HONORED If you shared that news with him and were giving him your first

Probably a first for him too ngl. I see him as someone who was so focused on his path that warming another’s bed wasn’t something he was willing to spare time on.

If it’s not a first for him too then it’s not something he’s done often and isn’t an expert

Would definitely thank you for trusting him with sweet reassuring kisses (if they are a little heated don’t blame him too much)

He is respectful! As I said no pressure. No rush. But would the information please him? Yes.

Definitely adds fire to his belly because HE will be your first

Sends a note of possession through him not because he’d “own” you but because regardless of being a first or not you’d be his and he yours.

NSFW:

Regardless of if you’re shy or ready to get the show on the road he’d be so gentle and would be careful, really careful.

Probably a bit unsure and might move a little too fast accidentally in his own lust but would immediately sooth you as soon as he realizes

Looks to your expressions and sounds to make sure you’re feeling good and safe

He wants to treat you WELL views it as HIS duty to make sure you’re happy

It’s a lot of pressure but he’d do his best and set his mind to it being nothing but perfect for you

I imagine at first his hands would be so feather light letting you get used to him and his touch as he undresses you piece by piece- he’d watch his claws unless he finds out you enjoy them grazing across your skin

He’d brush his lips across every piece of new skin revealed to his eyes unable to help himself

Finds out he really loves your chest, both feeling you & tasting you. as well as napping on you later

But over time as the act went on he’d be more confident, still tender but less unsure

He’d be enamored every time he got you to sigh or make a pleased sound

It’s his goal to hears those often

When he discovers how turned on he’s made you it would send waves of pride crashing over him, he had done THAT

Overall though he’d take his time

He probably won’t speak much if at all, but he’d make sure you’re ready every step of the way. If he does speak it’s not more than a few words here or there, low and only for you to hear as he nips your ear

Multiple check ins

He’s a giver, and while he isn’t practiced whatsoever he’d use his mouth and fingers to bring you pleasure, finding out exactly how you like it by listening to the way you moan or the way your body shivers and trembles with specific movements

He 100% will become VERY VERY good with his hands and mouth

His tail is sneaky, he’d use it as a way to hold on to your leg (holding you open while one of his hands is occupied) or would brush the the furry appendage across your skin just to see goosebumps rise in its wake

When you’re finally connected, after time spent letting you get used to him (and him you because let’s be real he’d be overwhelmed by the feel of tightly wrapped around him too) he’d roll his hips gently

He would make sounds, sighs and groans in your ear.

He’d love it if you cling on to him and tell him he’s doing something good

Full on shudders if you scratch his back or dig your nails into him - he loves it and he might accidentally thrust too hard when you do it

Wants to hear you 👏👏

Would keep control for as long as he could but would listen to your requests almost instantly if you asked him to move faster

Would love it if you moved his hand exactly where you wanted him to touch you

Would suck marks on your skin - thighs and neck, wherever he absentmindedly ran his lips. Would be shy about it later but would touch them possessively or when you’re dressed his eyes would stray to where his marks are on your skin.

Afterwards he’d silently but tenderly wipe you down and then pull you into his arms

Would nuzzle his face against you and breathe your scent as you both relax and come down from your high

Would massage any soreness you have that he could and feel pride at wearing you out, although his face wouldn’t show it

His tail would be like a vice around your thigh all night and trying to get out of his hold in the morning is a chore

He’d 100% take care of you especially for a first time is basically what I’m saying. After, he may be a bit rougher with his movements or may be impatient at times especially after a tough fight and adrenaline is still kicking but will always treat you tenderly as you guys build confidence together.

#black myth wukong #black myth wukong x reader #destined one x reader #sun wukong x reader #I tried 💀🤣#back to the ol fic grind now #thank you anon 🫶#BK Kai Writes

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vanteguccir · 6 months ago

Text

── ୨୧ !　𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦 𝗠𝗘

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N and Matt are just friends that act like they’re in a loving relationship.

WARNING: None. (Friends to lovers trope)

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Matt had always believed that change was the only constant in life. He had learned this the hard way when he and his brothers finally decided to uproot their lives from the tranquil suburbs of Boston to the bustling, sun-soaked streets of Los Angeles.

LA was vast and vibrant, a stark contrast to the quiet neighborhoods they were used to. It was in this whirlwind of new beginnings that Matt met Y/N.

Y/N lived next door. The first encounter was serendipitous, almost as if fate had decided to intervene. Matt was struggling to carry a heavy box from the moving truck, screaming like crazy for help to Nick or Chris - and being successfully ignored - when Y/N appeared, offering a friendly smile and a helping hand. That simple act of kindness sparked a connection that would grow deeper over time.

From the very start, their friendship was unlike any other. There was an immediate, unspoken understanding between them. Matt felt a sense of ease around Y/N that he hadn’t experienced with anyone else, not even his brothers.

One of the most defining aspects of their friendship was their mutual love language: touch. It wasn’t something they discussed; it simply came naturally. A gentle touch on the shoulder, a comforting hand on the back, a little bit of cuddling, or a playful nudge, these small gestures were a constant, reassuring presence in their interactions.

Matt found himself gravitating toward Y/N whenever they were together. He cherished the way Y/N would drape an arm around his waist as they walked down the street during fall days, or how they would sit so close on the couch that their legs would almost be on top of the other.

It was these moments of physical closeness that made the both of them feel truly understood and cared for.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The bright winter sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow into the car, illuminating the black leather seats. The car windows were rolled down, letting in the slightly cold breeze and the distant sound of other cars rushing around in the - always - busy streets of LA. Matt was behind the wheel, his hands relaxed on the steering wheel as he guided the car along the venue heading to Target, ready to buy the items he and his brothers would use in Wednesday's upcoming video.

Y/N was in the passenger seat, her feet propped up on the seat so that her legs were bent and her thighs kept pressed against her chest, a carefree smile playing on her lips. The radio played a soft indie, melodic tune, adding to the serene atmosphere.

As they drove, Y/N’s hand found its way to Matt’s arm, a casual and unconscious gesture. Her fingers decorated with pink nails lightly traced patterns on his hoodie-covered skin, the touch gentle and familiar. Matt glanced over and smiled, a warm feeling spreading through him. He was used to Y/N’s touch by now; it was as natural as breathing.

"Look, Matt, that restaurant I sent you on Instagram! I really want to come here, they only do Arabic food, you know?" Y/N exclaimed, pointing out the window to the tall, large restaurant, the concrete walls in a warm shade of red with a silver sign that shined below the daylight. Her excitement was contagious, and Matt felt his heart swell with affection for his best friend.

"We could come this Friday. If you want to, princess." Matt agreed, his voice soft. He reached over and squeezed Y/N’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before returning his focus to the road. Y/N’s fingers lingered on his, her touch very soft as she traced the lines of his palm with the tip of her fingers.

They drove in comfortable silence for the last few minutes of the route, the only sounds being the hum of the engine and the occasional horn coming from the cars around. While singing the soft melody of one of Billie's songs, Y/N’s hand moved to Matt’s forearm, her fingers lightly brushing up and down, a soothing rhythm that Matt found incredibly calming.

Without thinking, Y/N’s hand slipped to the back of Matt’s neck, her fingers threading through his hair. Matt leaned into the touch, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

"Oh, we're here!"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt was sprawled out on the couch, enjoying the tranquility that followed a satisfying lunch. The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun, which streamed in through the large windows on the right side of the large sofa, casting a warm and inviting light over everything.

The sound of Nick's fingers tapping over the keys on his MacBook as he edited their next YouTube video was one of the only sounds that interrupted the comfortable silence.

Matt had his phone in hand, idly scrolling through TikTok. He chuckled at the occasional funny video, the sound mingling with the faint hum of the air conditioning. He was relaxed, content to let the day pass by in this peaceful state.

Y/N was in the kitchen, putting away the leftovers from their lunch, setting aside a significant portion for Chris, knowing he would return home hungry after his outing with Sam, the aroma of the meal newly cooked still lingering in the air.

As Y/N finished up, she wiped her hands on a dish towel and made her way into the living room.

Matt looked up as soon as he noticed a new presence approaching, a soft smile spreading across his face almost automatically.

"Hey." He said, his voice warm and inviting. The boy patted the space on the grey couch next to him, signaling for Y/N to join him. "Come here."

Y/N didn’t need any further encouragement. She crossed the room - stroking Nick's right shoulder quickly as she passed him - and settled onto the couch, her body naturally gravitating towards Matt. Without a word, Matt lifted his arm and gently guided Y/N’s head to rest on his thighs.

As Y/N nestled her head into Matt’s lap, a content sigh scaped through her lips. Matt’s free hand found its way to Y/N’s hair, brushing away loose strands over her eyes and cheeks, his fingers beginning to gently scratch her scalp softly. The rhythmic motion was soothing, and Y/N felt a wave of relaxation wash over her body. Her mind started to feel like floating.

Matt continued to watch TikToks, his focus still on the screen while his right tumb scrolled from one video to another, but his touch remained constant and affectionate. He didn’t even realize how naturally his fingers moved through Y/N’s hair, the light scratching and gentle strokes a habitual way of expressing his care.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed, the combination of Matt’s touch and the post-lunch drowsiness lulling her into a state of blissful relaxation. The soft rise and fall of Matt’s chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the gentle pressure of his fingers all blended together, creating a cocoon of comfort.

Until she finally dozed off.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The gentle glow of the TV cast a soft light across Matt's room, creating a cozy and inviting atmosphere, the blinds blocking the moonlight from outside the house. Y/N lay curled up on his bed, nestled under the duvet, watching a random, soft movie, her body covered in Matt's blue striped pajamas.

The plot was slow, the characters spoke in hushed tones, and the overall ambiance was soothing. It was the perfect background for drifting into a peaceful slumber.

Y/N’s eyelids grew heavier with each passing minute, her mind teetering on the edge of sleep. She fought to stay awake, hoping to see Matt after his hours of recording with his brothers before giving in to the lull of the movie. The faint sound of footsteps against the floor and the jingling of car keys reached her ears. Matt was home.

A few moments later, the bedroom door opened quietly, and Matt stepped inside. He paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of Y/N with her eyes half-closed, looking so peaceful and serene. His heart swelled with care as he softly closed the door behind his back, careful not to make any noise, the click echoing through the four walls.

"Hey, princess, are you still awake?" Matt whispered, his voice gentle and filled with warmth, wanting to make sure before making any noise that would actually wake her up.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, lifting her head on Matt's pillow - the strands of her hair spilling over the cotton pillowcase - and looking at him, smiling sleepily.

"Barely." She replied, her voice a soft murmur. She lifted the edge of the duvet, a clear invitation for him to join her. "Come lay with me. Pretty please."

Matt didn’t need any further prompting. He could shower after. He kicked off his shoes and took small steps towards his bed, the sound of his white sock-covered feet sounding mutely against the floor. The boy slipped into bed beside Y/N, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

As he settled in, Y/N turned towards him, her eyes sparkling with drowsy affection.

"Come here, petal." Matt gently pulled her closer, wrapping one arm around her torso and positioning her head on his shoulder. He could feel the soft, steady rhythm of her breathing against his chest. With his other arm, he draped the duvet over them both, cocooning them in warmth.

He wrapped his arm more securely around her, his hand resting on her back, traveling to the hem of her - his - pajama top, delving beneath the fabric and up the warm skin that seemed to embrace the cold of his hand, fingers lightly tracing soothing circles. He felt Y/N’s body relax further into his embrace, their legs naturally tangling together, creating a comforting sense of intimacy.

Matt buried his face in Y/N’s hair, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent that always calmed him. He pressed a series of light, tender kisses to the top of her head, moving down to her temple and then to her cheek.

Y/N let out a contented sigh, her eyes drifting closed as she nestled even closer to Matt. She could feel the steady beat of his heart, a soothing reminder of his presence. Matt’s fingers continued to draw gentle patterns on her back, a comforting rhythm that lulled her further towards sleep.

"Y'need to tell me about your day, Matty." Y/N whispered against his chest, her voice barely audible, her words slurred with drowsiness.

"Tomorrow." He whispered back, feeling his best friend finally succumbed to sleep.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The gentle hum of conversation filled the air as Matt and Y/N strolled through the farmer’s market - one of the activities that Matt started to love doing after meeting Y/N. Stalls lined the street, brimming with fresh produce, homemade crafts, and delicious baked goods. The vibrant colors and lively atmosphere added to the charm of the day.

Matt and Y/N walked side by side, their hands occasionally brushing against each other. They had done this many times before, but today, something felt different. There was a lingering warmth in every accidental touch, a heightened awareness that neither of them could quite explain.

"Look at these strawberries!" Y/N exclaimed, stopping at a stall overflowing with ripe, red fruit. She picked up a small basket and held it out for Matt to see. "Aren’t they beautiful?"

Matt smiled, his eyes not on the strawberries but on Y/N’s face, lit up with excitement.

"They’re." He said softly, nodding slightly. "Let’s get some, yeah?"

As they continued to browse, Y/N slipped her hand into Matt’s without thinking, their fingers intertwining naturally. Matt’s heart skipped a beat at the simple, already familiar gesture, but today, it felt more significant. He glanced down at their joined hands, a small smile playing on his lips, and gently squeezed.

They made their way to a stall, selling freshly baked pastries. Y/N’s eyes lit up at the sight of chocolate croissants, and Matt couldn’t help but laugh.

"You and your obsession with chocolate." The brunette teased, nudging Y/N playfully.

"You know me so well, Matty B." Y/N replied jokingly with a grin, selecting two croissants and handing one to Matt. "Here, try this."

Matt took a bite, the rich, flaky pastry melting in his mouth.

"It's good." He agreed, picking two more for Chris and Nick, knowing they would complain if they knew he had some sweet treat with Y/N and didn't think about them.

As they continued their stroll, sharing the croissants, the simple act of enjoying a treat together felt intimate, more than it had ever before.

While choosing some fresh fruits and showing them to Matt, their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to blur, the sound of salespeople announcing their sales seemed muted to their ears and the people moving around them seemed to disappear. Matt felt an overwhelming urge to close the distance between them, to let his feelings be known. But he hesitated, unsure of what he was even feeling.

Y/N’s hand found its way to Matt’s cheek, her touch light and tender.

"You’ve got a bit of croissant on your face." She whispered with a soft laugh, brushing the crumbs away with the tip of her fingers.

Matt’s heart raced at the simple touch, and he covered Y/N’s hand with his own, holding it there for a moment longer than necessary.

"Thanks." He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

They stayed like that for a few moments, the connection between them growing stronger with each passing second. Neither of them spoke, but the emotions in their eyes said more than words ever could.

A rude sound from the small stall vendor broke the moment, the man clearing his throat as he watched them, his eyes traveling from their faces to the fruit in Y/N's hands and back again.

"Oh, uhm, sorry."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room as Matt sat on the edge of his bed, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. He had been feeling off all day, a strange mix of anxiety and anticipation that he couldn’t quite shake. Nick and Chris had noticed his unusual behavior and exchanged knowing glances but said nothing.

The soft sound of knocking against his bedroom door sounded through all four walls, Y/N's head appearing between the door and the doorframe seconds after.

"Hey, Matty. What’s wrong?" The girl asked without even saying hi, her voice soft and full of concern. "Nick texted me. He told me you weren’t feeling so well… but you’re not ill, are you? You were fine earlier."

Before Matt could respond, Y/N stepped in his room, closing the door behind her back and taking small steps closer, positioning herself standing between his parted knees and pressing the back of her hand against his forehead to check his temperature. Matt’s heart raced at the gentle touch, his breath hitching slightly.

"No, you’re not, thank God." Y/N said with a sigh of relief, smiling hesitantly, her eyes filled with genuine concern. "But I know you, you're not feeling your best, huh? What can I do to help?"

Matt’s mind raced. He didn’t know why he had held back for so long, why he had ignored the signs that were so clear now. Every time Y/N’s eyes sparkled when she looked at him, it mirrored the way his eyes lit up when he saw her. It was like he had been voluntarily blinding himself, unwilling to acknowledge the truth. But now, it was as if he was seeing colors for the first time, and everything made sense. He almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, how it had taken a conversation with Nick, of all people, to make him realize what he had been feeling all along.

"Matty?" Y/N’s voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present, her hand traveling to his right shoulder, squeezing the covered skin.

Matt looked up, his heart pounding in his chest. He could see the worry etched on Y/N’s face, and it made him fall in love with her all over again. He loved how easy it was to fall for her, how every little thing she did made his heart swell with affection.

"A kiss…" He whispered, his voice barely audible, but he knew Y/N heard him because he saw her breath hitch, her hands movements stopping momentarily.

"What?" Y/N asked, her eyes wide with surprise while her lips parted in disbelief.

"I want a kiss… to feel better." Matt repeated, clearing his throat, his voice a little stronger this time. He felt vulnerable, his heart laid bare while his body pleaded him to get under his bed and hide, but he couldn’t hold back any longer.

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she processed Matt’s words. Not wanting to raise her hopes too high, she gulped, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, right above his messy bangs. The simple act made her heart beat loudly in their ears, a rhythm that matched Matt’s - without her knowledge.

Matt’s breath caught at the touch, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more. He raised his head, his hazel eyes locking onto Y/N’s gaze, melting with a mixture of hope and longing.

"No... A proper kiss." He asked again, his voice filled with anxiety and nervousness, but courage. "Like... Like lovers do."

Y/N’s world slowed to a standstill as she processed Matt’s words. She had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was happening, it felt almost unreal. But the intensity in Matt’s eyes and the sincerity in his voice made she realize that this was real. This was happening.

Y/N inhale a big breath before leaning in again, her heart racing, looking deeply at his eyes for some seconds before finally pressing her lips against Matt’s.

The kiss unfolded with a tenderness that seemed to suspend time itself. There was a gentle hesitation at first, an unspoken acknowledgment of the years of friendship that had led them to this moment. Y/N's touch was feather-light against Matt's cheek as their lips kept pressed for some seconds in a tentative, exploratory caress.

The sensation was electrifying yet gentle, sending shivers of anticipation down their spines. Matt's arms encircled Y/N, pulling her closer between his spread legs with a warmth that spoke volumes of his love.

The gesture deepened, each movement a silent exchange of emotions long held in check. The world outside seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the moment, their hearts beating in sync.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other’s, Y/N's spine curved so that she could be closer, her fingers traveling down his neck and finding home between his messy chocolate strands.

"I love you." Matt whispered, his voice filled with all the emotions he had been holding back.

"I love you too, Matt." Y/N replied, her voice equally soft and full of love. "I love you too..."

taglist:

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callie-the-creator · 1 year ago

Text

the sinclair brothers’ reactions to you getting nipple piercings

mild nsfw. mdni. warnings: suggestive content, nipple piercings, etc.

author’s note: i tried to write the reader as gender-neutral as possible.

bo sinclair

• once you lifted your shirt up, bo’s jaw dropped to the floor as his eyes widened. he was still in his work getup — did you do this when he was gone? he had so many questions…but, it didn’t take bo long to shake his initial shock and replace it with his smirk

• he thinks your new piercings are hot as fuck and even made you all the more attractive. hell, he didn’t even think such a thing was possible!

• bo immediately tossed all his stuff to the closest chair and walked over to you where he moved his calloused hands up from your hips to right under your chest

• even though he likes to admit to it, bo can be quite the charmer at times. so, after he did this, bo started to shower you in compliments and as he did, lowered himself onto his knees as his hands rested on your as, like you were some deity

• all of this was a pleasant surprise, just what he needed actually, and bo cannot wait to see more of your piercings, especially in the bedroom

vincent sinclair

• he first thought you accidentally got hurt, so he came rushing to your side to help you out, only to have you you explain to him what they were

• he was, at first, confused. sure, vincent has seen a few piercings in his time because of the wax statues he makes…but…he’s never seen any that were on someone’s nipples

• when asked if he understood, vincent simply nodded his head as he moved closer to inspected your new piercings until his chest was almost touching yours

• he outstretched his hands, but didn’t touch you right away. instead, vincent glanced between your nipples, to your eyes, back down to your piercings, asking for permission. with a laugh, you gave him exactly that

• vincent made sure to be especially gentle with you as he caressed the sides of your chest, his rough and large hands slowly creeping closer to your nipples before stopping when he got close to the piercing. he didn’t want to touch them since there was a chance you were sore, so vincent merely moved his hands around the area, all the while he admired your new jewelry

• he likes them, it’s just going to take some time getting used to them is all…

lester sinclair

• “now, why’d you have to go ‘n do that?” was lester’s question when you told him you had gotten nipple piercings as he drove down the road to the house

• he didn’t want to believe you because of how unlike you it sounded. this must’ve been your way of trying to pull a prank on him…

• he kept denying that you got piercings there until you had enough of the bickering and lifted up your shirt, prompting lester to do a double-take at the sight of your new jewelry

• his breath was taken away and he was left speechless. he cleared his throat as he turned his attention back on the road whilst you pulled down your shirt to cover yourself up

• the drive to the house was mostly quiet

- that is, until lester parked his truck

• just as when you were going to hop out of the truck, lester stopped you by calling out your name, so you hesitated and looked back at him quizzically, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t somewhat upset with him

• “can i, uh…see ‘em again?”

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fishnapple · 7 months ago

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CRYSTAL READING: How does a healthy love for you feel like ?

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Feedback is much appreciated ❤️

About me | Masterpost

Buy me a drink or book a reading with me - KO-FI (Read this post : personal reading)

1. Agate

🎐Your energy when you are in a healthy relationship: Bear

This is the love that elevates your spirit.

There is no restriction or confusion. You will know this love for what it is, without any doubt of where you stand in the connection.

Something feels so sure yet so exhilarating and free.

You will feel brave and curious. Your inner child will be given freedom to roam and explore without restriction, similar to The Fool energy in Tarot. You may not notice it immediately, but your speech and actions will gradually show more joy. Others may notice that you are taking interest in more hobbies and creative pursuit, you are more open to the joy and silliness of life. Like a bear waking up to a verdant spring after a long winter hibernation.

You will feel expansive, this love encourages you to look for a deeper meaning in life, to imbue the road that you walk with more love and share your light with more people, you could even find yourself be more sociable and more willing to go to social events.

Oddly enough, even though this love feels exciting, changeable and passionate, not too much grounded and predictable, it will build a solid foundation for you, you will feel so safe and stable in yourself amidst life's changes so much that you can face hardships in the world with an open and optimistic attitude.

This love will be gentle but firm at the same time. You may feel triggered sometimes by it. It will make you look deeply into yourself and shed light on the fears that you have concerning relationships. You might even feel reluctant at first to accept this love, but with time, you will address those fears and ready to be transformed. Your demeanour and outward appearance will change. Some could be quite drastically, a more open posture, smiles appear more frequently, a certain quiet confident about your sexuality that creates charisma.

This will be the love that makes you feel like a child again but not small. Tomorrow will always feel brighter and worth looking forward to.

2. Carnelian

🎐Your energy when you are in a healthy relationship: Gazelle

A love that can keep you on your toes, not in a hyper vigilant way because you feel insecure or worry, but more like the kind that keeps you from stagnation.

This will be the love that allows you to leave your mental restrictions behind and strive for something higher, with more meaning. This love gives you ambition. Your passion will be felt by everyone. People can clearly see that you are following your desire and ideals for something higher, more fulfilling, almost like you have found your own meaning of life.

I see two parallel lines of stones. You will be able to harmonise contradictory parts in yourself and make them walk side by side. Something feels dualistic, some parts of you may be more on the dominant and active, while some parts are more soft and submissive, gentle yet intense, connecting yet detached, overall your feminine and masculine energy will be quite balanced.

This love will give you the opportunity to explore your sexuality more. You can be both the student and the teacher, willing to learn and to try new experiences. Some of you may had some fear about submitting yourself to someone, to love in the past, because you were scared that you would lose yourself, boundaries would be breached, you couldn't ground the relationship. But not with this love, you will realise that when you're with someone, you don't have to loose your identity, you can just be your most authentic self, just like the child in The Sun Tarot card.

There is no shame and barriers, communication about intimacy will be open, you will feel comfortable talking about things that you considered taboo before, secrets will be easily shared without fear of ridicule and betrayal of trust.

3. Flourite

🎐Your energy when you are in a healthy relationship: Phoenix

A healthy love for you will feel like good karma, a treasure found after a long arduous journey. The kind that no matter how many hardship you and your lover have to face, the love remains, it burns through all and rise again, not in the destructive way but in the purifying way, always burn bright even in the darkest hours. There may be a certain Plutonic influence in your relationship.

This will be the love that forces you to put down your egos to let the hearts do the talking. I used the word "force" because it would not be easy. You will come to understand that behind every stubborn remark, every rigid mental stance is a kind of vulnerability and insecurities lurking in the shadow, and you will learn to address that in a more calm, rational way. A healthy love for you is the one that bridges you and your lover's hearts and minds to see each other's strengths and weaknesses without judgement and resistance.

This love will also help you purify your social connections, to see clearly who is healthy for you, who is not and break out of the society's confinement of roles and images.

It's like a healthy love will help you build more healthy relationships with others. Sometimes, you will have to face your own loneliness and learn to be alone. A certain isolation is much needed sometimes to reevaluate your values and to rest and recharge. This love will allow you to have space without the worry of abandonment.

4. Aventurine

🎐Your energy when you are in a healthy relationship: Horse

Some of you may have a small social circle, or your life was uneventful, the energy feel reserved, introverted, and keep to oneself. Like some barrier was erected around you, maybe to keep you safe at first, but after some time, it could keep you from expanding your life more. I feel like this barrier could be from your family, your community's consensus, from people that older than you and want to take care of you, but they have lots of distrust and fears for the world, and that fears could affect you subconsciously, making you more fearful of life. The stone of mercury, mars, and soul are all on the edge of the circle, so ready to break out, but the circle is surrounded by the stone of saturn, fear, moon, and neptune.

A healthy love for you will be the one that somehow liberate you, make you feel more free, like the horse energy, you will want to ride on the horse's back to explore a world larger than your previous known one. As I was doing your reading, I felt the urge to just stand up and move around. Maybe you would also feel more active with this love.

You will want to stand in your own light and be an individual instead of just a part of a crowd. This love could even instil some rebellious spirit in you, making you question the social beliefs.

Before, you life may just revolved around a small space (figuratively and literally), with this love, you will learn to still stay firm and safe in yourself but be able to give out love to many more people. Others will also be able to sense this change in you. You will have a glow from inner contentment and open spirit. I see a gentle wind curving around on an open field.

Love.

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dixonsbrat · 2 months ago

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𖥔 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎, 𝐈’𝐌 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𖥔

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 ; daryl relives the tough choices that were made when he decided to leave the commonwealth.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; established relationship, takes place both in france and at the commonwealth. crying. making out. insinuated sex. just a whole lotta angst honestly.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ; 4.2k .ᐟ

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ; this is the longest fic i’ve written in forever so enjoy ᡣ𐭩

"have you ever been in love?" sylvie’s question takes daryl by surprise, his attention momentarily pulled away from the road ahead of them as he turns to look at her in the passenger seat. her french accent is thick, though her words and facial expression are soft - like her.

there’s a noticeable shift in his demeanour, his heart panging in his chest as his thoughts drift toward you back home, back at the commonwealth, where an ocean now stood between you and him. there’s a sad look in his eyes, a mixture of pain and guilt and it’s clear that something deeply rooted within him had happened between the two of you.

“why do you look so sad?” sylvie observes him gently. she can sense the weight of his thoughts, the memories he’s carrying. she wants to press him on it, to further dissect the man that had fallen into their lives, but decides to wait for him to speak instead.

daryl doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixated on the open stretch of road ahead as his hands tightly grip the wheel. sylvie’s question was simple, straightforward, but for him, it was anything but. the weight of his thoughts bear down on his chest, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions he had spent months trying to bury deep down.

“s’complicated.” his voice is low and gravelly when he does finally answer, though laced with hurt as he clenches his jaw tightly.

“complicated?” sylvie repeats, her voice gentle, yet betraying her curiosity. she’s not pushing, she just wants to understand - understand why that was the word he had chosen to describe whatever it was that was clearly plaguing him.

“mhm…” he grumbles, a slight nod of his head as he refocuses on the road once more.

sylvie senses the deep hurt and longing that lies beneath his stoic exterior, “because you… still love them?”

“... sometimes love ain’t enough.” his voice is harsher than he intends, but he leaves it all the same. he could still hear whispers of your laughter ringing in his ears, and how sweet you sounded when saying his name. if he could turn back time and stop himself from ever leaving the commonwealth - from ever leaving you - he would.

his mind flashes back to the last night he had spent with you, the feeling of you in his arms, soft and close. how you looked at him with those warm eyes full of adoration, full of care, the way no one else had ever looked at him before and he wished he could have held onto that moment a little bit longer, a little bit tighter.

you’re sitting on the floor of your room, laughing, your legs stretched out alongside daryl’s as you both lean against your bed. the night had settled over the commonwealth and though exhaustion tugged at both of your minds, you didn’t want to retire for the night just yet, not when you knew it was your last night together.

“i’m still pissed at you,” you say, though there’s no real anger in your tone, just lighthearted playfulness as your eyes gleam in the soft light of the room. you had a habit of looking at him as if he were the only person in the world - which to you, he was.

he nods, huffing out a quiet laugh, “i know. i know ya are.”

his eyes fall to your body, admiring softly, the way your shirt hangs a little off your left shoulder, showing a hint of your collarbone, and his fingers slowly reach to trail down the exposed skin. you notice the way his eyes roam your body, and for a moment, the mood of playful banter shifts into something warmer, something heavier. the air feels a little more charged between you both, the feeling of wanting, not knowing when you’ll get the chance to hold and touch one another like this again.

daryl tries to ignore the way his stomach twists at the memory, the way his mind drifts back to the last time he had touched you. he knows he shouldn’t but the memories are too vivid, he can practically hear your soft gasps in his ear, hear the way you say his name, all breathy and full of love. he can’t help but let himself get carried away in the distant memories of you and the love you shared together.

you bite your lower lip a little, drawing his eyes towards your mouth, and he feels a pang in his chest at the action. you see the way his jaw tenses, how he looks at you with his steely blue eyes, and know he’s fighting against his thoughts, trying to suppress the desire that was clearly building inside of him.

you feel that familiar twist of desire in your own stomach, that familiar need for him building with every passing second. you shift towards him slightly, your leg brushing against his, “...what am i going to do without you?”

he’s struggling, holding back, but he can’t resist the way you move towards him, the way your thigh brushes against his. he brings a calloused hand up to cup your face, thumb tracing over the skin of your cheek. his eyes flicker to your lips again, his heart beating faster, the pull towards you becoming stronger. the desire to hold you, to keep you close, to never let you go, is overwhelming.

he swallows thickly, “yer gonna be fine. always are.”

there’s a pause as you shake your head, taking in a deep breath as tears dare to prick at your eyes, “not this time.”

the feeling of helplessness washes over him as he sees the emotions play across your face. his hand moved to your jaw, cupping it gently before tipping it slightly so you’re looking directly at him. your eyes are watery, pained, and it kills him to see it, to know he’s the cause of it. his thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away a lone tear that had slipped down it.

“don’t cry,” he tries to reassure you, voice gruff and low, but somewhat softer for him.

“how can i not when you’re leaving me…” you exhale, eyes almost fully glazed over as your mind spirals with the dread of what comes in the morning.

he doesn’t know how to make you feel better, how to soothe away that fear that’s plaguing you. daryl has always had a tendency for keeping people at arms-length, to not let them get too close in case they leave, in case they get hurt. but with you it’s always been different. you’re different. you’ve seen deeper into him than anyone else ever has and despite that, you stayed.

you chose him.

your eyes flitter across his features, as though to be committing every small detail to memory. every crease, every freckle or mole, even the grey hairs that were poking through the scruff on his chin, you wanted to remember it all as though it was the last time you’d ever see him.

he can tell you’re scared, unsure, trying to memorise him, like you believe that this might be the last time you see him. he can feel the shakiness of your body, the warm tears that fall from your eyes, your soft forehead pressed against his. there was nothing more that he wanted than to be able to tell you where he was going and how long he was going to be gone, but most importantly that he would be back.

you move your hands up to rest around his neck, pulling him as close as humanly possible, your lips only grazing his before you eventually close the space between you. it’s soft and gentle, the way your lips move together, your tongues lightly dancing, but the need for one another quickly takes over. transpiring into a longing of want and need to be even closer. his hands grip your hips, holding onto you tightly like he’d never let you go.

“i love you,” you breathe the words as you try to regain your breath but all daryl can see is the mixture of love and sadness in your eyes.

it wasn’t the first time you had said it to him, or the second or third, you made sure to say it to him as much as he would allow you to, but no matter what, it always felt like the first time. he buried his head in the crook of your neck, lips grazing over the sensitive skin there as he breathes you in. he can feel the way your body trembles, the way you cling to him, afraid to let him go.

“i love you too,” he mumbles against your skin, the words barely audible, like a secret you both already knew but didn’t want to admit aloud.

“who was it not enough for — you or them?” sylvie’s question rips him from his thoughts, hitting him deep in the chest once again.

daryl exhales heavily, his fingers tensing around the steering wheel once more. “i don’t… me,” he answers honestly, his voice almost a whisper. the words hang in the air, heavy and loaded with the weight of his decision.

sylvie sees the turmoil and decides to change the topic slightly, deciding to approach the matter from a different angle, “will you tell me about them?” her voice is low and soothing, drawing him slowly out of his dark thoughts.

he wants to scream ‘no’, to shut it down immediately, knowing that the act of talking about you, even though it would be painful, felt like the only way to keep you close. he wasn’t one for sharing, for letting others inside his mind, but the idea of telling someone about you, not knowing if he’d get another opportunity to do so… it hurt more than the idea of reliving the memories he had shared with you and the impact you had made in his life.

he’s quiet for a moment, swallowing the growing lump in his throat before he opens his mouth, “she was… she was beautiful. caring. strong. stubborn, real stubborn.”

he lets out a soft chuckle at the thought of the numerous times you’d made his life a living hell over the years, yet he’d secretly loved the way you’d never take his bullshit and would always put him in his place. sylvie can’t help but admire the way he lights up as he speaks about you, the tension in his shoulders and jaw easing at her gentle prodding.

“she had this… way about her, ya know?” his voice is still gruff as he speaks, yet there’s a softness to his tone now, an undeniable fondness. “she could hit a target in the bullseye without battin’ an eye but then trip up on her own feet a few seconds later.” he continues, a hint of awe in his voice now as he describes you, like he’s talking about some mythical being. he finds himself once again getting lost in his thought of you, the corner of his mouth lifting in a sad smile.

“she knew how to make me feel…safe. usually it was my job to make others feel that way, to be the protector, but not her, she always wanted to take care of me. like she’s got this hold on me that i can’t shake, and i don’t… i don’t know if i ever will…”

“you still love her… that’s why.” sylvie points out after seeing the way he had spoken about you. it was the first time he had indulged anyone in a conversation about himself, about his life before france, about you. you were clearly important to him, otherwise he wouldn’t have let himself get so caught away in talking about you, and he can’t help but feel surprised at himself for doing so.

“ain’t that simple,” he responds, the sharpness returning to his voice as his walls go up once more because he knows that he can’t deny the truth. he did still love you, of course he did, that was never in question. but he also can’t ignore the complex factors that had torn the two of you apart, or that it was entirely his fault.

sylvie pauses for a moment, before saying, “perhaps, but perhaps it also shouldn’t have to be so hard.”

daryl lets out a bitter scoff, his jaw clenching tighter and he turns his attention back to the road ahead. he doesn’t respond to her this time, his mind preoccupied with the tangled mess of his emotions. he knows that things should be simple. hell, they had been simple at one point. but life wasn’t a fairytale, especially in the world you now lived in and it was his job to keep you safe, whether you liked it or not.

you watch as daryl pulls his backpack tighter around his shoulders and continues walking as if you hadn’t said a word, as if you hadn’t just told him you wanted to go with him, wherever it was that he may end up. “i said i want to come with you,” you repeat louder now, your words echoing back to you as your heart thrums so loudly in your chest that you were sure it was going to explode.

daryl stills at your voice now, his shoulders tensing at your words. he had heard you the first time but hoped that you would drop it after seeing him continue on his way, but, of course, things could never be that simple. he can practically feel the desperation in your voice, the pleading tone making his heart ache, but he stubbornly resists the urge to turn around and look at you.

“...no.” he responds without any hesitation, any trepidation, his voice firm as he allows no room for you to argue.

“no?” your voice is a soft murmur as you move to stand in front of him. your gaze full of confusion and hurt, your heart still racing in your chest. “what do you mean ‘no’?”

his blue eyes finally meet yours, the usual warm depth within them now cold and guarded. he stands there, jaw clenched, looking down at you with a mixture of stoicism and stubbornness as he fights off the urge to reach out and smooth away the hurt he sees in your eyes.

“i mean ‘no’,” he repeats, his mind set. “ya ain’t comin’ with me.”

your heart sinks for the second time, the pain and confusion swirling inside you like a storm. you swallow hard, your eyes stinging with the onset of tears once more. “that’s it? just ‘no’? you’re not even going to consider it?”

“there ain’t nothin’ to consider,” his jaw clenched once more and he sighs heavily, as if the question pained him just as much as it did you. he brushes a hand through his hair, tucking it behind his ear as he bites down on his lower lip. “i can’t have ya gettin’ hurt.” his voice is quieter this time.

you stand there frozen as you watch daryl continue on to where his motorcycle was parked by the front gates, unable to comprehend the way in which he was acting. as if you hadn’t just spent the entire night making yourself sick over whether or not you wanted to go with him or stay behind at the commonwealth, all while he was sound asleep beside you.

daryl’s heart is heavy as he walks away from you, every step feeling like he was dragging anvils behind him, but he forces himself to remain stern, to stay strong in his decision. he was doing this for you. he had to.

you follow behind him, watching as he swings himself onto the bike and settles into the leather seat, “i know how to handle myself, daryl – you of all people know that.”

“that ain’t the point,” he snaps back.

“then what is the point?” you throw your arms up and let them fall back to your sides, your emotions beginning to get the better of you once again, but daryl wasn’t having any of it. “daryl, please… i want to come with you,” your voice cracks and you take a deep breath in trying to keep yourself in check but only failing.

the sound of your voice cracking breaks him, the pain in your words physically stabbing at his heart. but he couldn’t back down now, not after already making up his mind. he’d never be able to live with himself if something were to happen to you and all because he agreed to let you go with him. he had already almost lost you a handful of times, he didn’t know how much luck he had left and he sure as hell wasn’t ready to find out.

he looks away from you, avoiding your eyes and shakes his head, “no.”

you reach forward to place your hands on top of his as they lay on the handlebars of the motorcycle, “i can’t… i can’t be away from you. not again. not even if that means giving up our home and everything else we were building here. i want to be with you… please.” you take in a shaky breath as silent tears begin to roll down your cheeks.

daryl’s hands clench beneath yours, the gesture betraying his internal struggle. he can feel the weight of your words, the weight of your pain and your love for him. his heart aches, conflicting with the resolute part of him that was telling him to just start the motorcycle and ride off before he eventually gave in.

he lets out a heavy sigh, his expression conflicted and pained as he finally turns to look back up at you. seeing the tears streaming down your face breaks something in him.

“i’m… i’m doin’ this for your own good,” he says, the words sounding hollow even to his ears.

you shake your head, clamping your teeth down on your bottom lip in an attempt to stop the sobs that were clawing their way up your throat, but there’s no use, “that’s bullshit.”

he flinches at your words, his defences crumbling under the weight of your accusation. he knows you know him too well, that you can see through his excuses and facades. he takes in your tear-stricken face, the sight like a dagger to his heart. he can see the desperation in your eyes, and it’s tearing him apart.

his own eyes start to sting, his nose burning with the beginnings of tears. he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. no words could explain how he was feeling in that moment, the conflicting thoughts and emotions raging within his mind and his heart.

he can’t take it anymore, the sight of you crying, the weight of his own guilt, the pain of his decision. he lets go of the handlebars, his hands coming up to cup your face, his fingers wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks. he looks deep into your eyes, torn between loving you and trying to protect you.

he presses a kiss to your forehead. it’s soft and gentle, full of worry, but painful. he just wanted to do the right thing by you. he didn’t want you out there with him, he needed you here. he needed you safe. you would be safe with the others, and he knew carol would look after you.

he holds the kiss against your forehead a moment longer, his eyes squeezed shut as he tries to memorise the feel of your skin against his lips. when he pulls away, his eyes slowly open, looking at you with a thousand words left unsaid. he wants so desperately to just hold you, to keep you safe in his arms forever. but he can’t.

“so that’s it then?” you ask, your voice so small through your tears.

“m’sorry…” is all he manages, the words tasting like poison, but his mind and heart refuse to budge. “i just… i have to do this alone.”

“you really expect me to just go about my days knowing that you’re out there all alone? constantly worrying if you’re okay, or if you’re even alive?” your throat was burning with emotion, your eyes stinging as you try to maintain it. the thought alone of something happening to daryl was making you feel sick.

each of your words feels like a knife to his heart and he feels like a fool for being the one to cause you this much pain. he wants to tell you that he’ll be fine, that he’s strong and can keep himself safe… but the truth of the matter was, he had no idea what was going to happen the second he stepped outside the gates of the commonwealth, or if he would be okay. he was all too well aware of the fact that the thought of leaving you behind was as terrifying to him as it was to you.

“i’ll be fine,” he says anyway, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your cheeks. he wanted to give you some sort of reassurance, no matter how small or how little he actually believed it. he just needed you to understand that this was something he needed to do and that he knew how to look after himself well enough, but you see right through him.

“we both know you can’t promise that,” you whisper as you pull out of his touch. “not really.”

daryl can feel the distance between the two of you growing already with each second that passes, his heart aching and his head pounding all at once. your words only add to the guilt and the pain that he’s already feeling, knowing that he can’t give you the real reassurance you need. he swallows hard, trying to keep his own emotions in check.

deep down he knows he can’t promise something, that at that moment, he wasn’t even sure of himself. he could see the questions, the realisation, the hurt swirling in your eyes as you stared up at him, silently pleading for him to contradict you, to tell you that it wasn’t true.

“i can try,” is all he can muster and your heart feels like it’s going to collapse in on itself. you knew daryl better than anyone, better than he knew himself, and you knew he was being sincere, but that didn’t stop the doubts and insecurities you had about him leaving. nothing would ever make you feel better about it.

“please…” he suddenly grabs your hands again, holding them tight in his own, not wanting to lose the feeling of your touch, of your skin against his. he could already feel it slipping away – feel you slipping away – and the distance growing further between the two of you. “please… just… trust me,” he practically pleads, his voice soft and his gaze filled with helplessness.

you look down at your hands wrapped in daryl’s, the touch feeling so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. it just serves as a painful reminder that he really was leaving. your own features are shaky as all you can do is accept his words with a nod, another tear rolling down your cheek as you press your forehead to his.

his eyes flutter shut as you rest your head against his, each tear that you shed causing the ache in his chest to grow even more. he can feel the resignation in your gestures, the way you submit to his decision, even if deep down you didn’t agree with it.

he savoured the feelings of you against him, eyes closed, his hands holding onto yours as if he were clutching on to the last shred of you that he had. he wanted to keep you here, in this bubble, forever if he could. and in that moment, he swears to himself that no matter how long he’s gone for, or how far away he ends up, he was going to come back for you, no matter how hard or how much time it took.

and he was going to keep that promise.

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noira-l · 1 month ago

Text

𝚄𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚃𝚠𝚘

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: Beneath the rain’s steady rhythm, you cross paths with a stranger, sharing an umbrella on a quiet, forested road. What begins as a fleeting act of kindness unfolds into an unexpected connection, leaving questions and longing lingering like the rain-soaked air. Will you meet again?

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 — teacher!geto suguru x afab reader

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 — fluff, teacher au

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 — polite and gentle Suguru, shy reader, adorable reassuring dynamic, losts of blushing from reader, walking hand-in-hand, Suguru is a true gentleman, Satoru makes an brief appearance at the end.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 — 5,9 k

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 — One of my favourite texts, I see the potential to write a part two, let me know what you think and if you like it c:

𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 — september - sparky deatcap

𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

The rain had been falling in torrents since late afternoon, a warm deluge that soaked the earth and wrapped the air in the scent of wet leaves and damp soil. It was almost the end of summer, that fleeting stretch of warmth before the world cooled and grew crisp. You held onto the net of small purchases, pressing them close to your side.

Your sandals squelched against the wet asphalt, water seeping through with each step, though you hardly minded anymore. It was too late to avoid the inevitable, and there was a sort of childish thrill in the way the rain drenched you, despite the protection of your transparent umbrella.

The umbrella itself was a delicate thing, clear plastic that mirrored the drops of rain as they slid down its surface, catching the muted gray light of the cloudy sky. You tilted it slightly to better see the road ahead.

Around you, the world was hushed, softened by the rain. The desolate fields you had passed earlier were now behind you, the tall grass bending under the weight of the downpour. The trees of the forest loomed up ahead, dark and dense, the kind of green that seemed almost black when wet. Their leaves glittered with moisture, heavy with rain that dripped in a rhythmic patter to the forest floor.

Your village was still far off, a small cluster of houses tucked away from the busier parts of the world. It always felt like another century back there, with its narrow lanes and low stone walls.

Your friend had been kind enough to drop you off to work in the morning, but their day had gone another way, leaving you to make the journey home on foot. You didn’t mind too much; there was something oddly peaceful about being alone with the rain, even if your calves would ache by the time you made it back.

The forest stretched on, its canopy forming a natural tunnel that swallowed the sound of your footsteps. The air was warm, almost muggy, but the rain kept it fresh, a relief against your skin. You could hear the distant gurgle of a stream somewhere, the kind of noise that made you want to linger, to breathe it all in. But your arms were growing tired from carrying your bag of purchases, and you quickened your pace slightly, already looking forward to dry socks and tea.

Just ahead, a bus stop stood at the side of the road. It was a modest thing, little more than a metal frame with a roof and a bench, its glass walls speckled with droplets that caught the light like tiny jewels. You recognized it immediately as one of the few stops along your route, though the buses never came often enough to rely on them.

From a distance, the figure standing under the shelter’s roof was striking - a tall man with long, raven-black hair, though one strand of hair spilled to the side, framing his face. He wore dark clothes that resembled some sort of uniform, their edges dampened by the rain, though he seemed largely unbothered by it, his sharp eyes focused on the phone he held in one hand.

The glow of the screen cast a faint light on his face, accentuating his features. He didn’t look up as you drew closer, too absorbed in whatever he was reading or typing.

You hesitated, unsure if you should tell him.

It felt like an awkward thing to point out - that the nearest bus wouldn’t arrive for another two hours. You knew this, of course; you’d lived here all your life, and the unreliable bus schedule was just part of the routine. But there was something about him, this stranger standing so composed in the rain, that made you reluctant to correct him. You didn’t want to come off as rude or condescending, even though he looked far too poised to be ruffled by something so trivial.

With slow, deliberate steps, you moved closer, finally able to get a proper look at the stranger’s face. And then you stopped, caught entirely off guard.

He was beautiful - stunning, even.

His features were sharp but balanced, his skin pale against the wet strands of dark hair framing his face. There was an elegance about him, the kind you’d only ever read about in books, a kind of beauty that seemed out of place in a bus stop on a rainy day in the middle of nowhere.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you froze, suddenly unsure of yourself. It wasn’t just admiration that stopped you - it was the feeling that he might notice. And he did. The stranger raised his gaze, meeting yours with piercing eyes that made your stomach flip.

You felt as though you’d been caught in the act of something, though you couldn’t quite say what.

"Excuse me…" you began, your voice unsteady, the words slipping out before you could overthink them "From this stop, the next bus will only leave in two hours."

You saw his expression change, his face hardening for just a moment before he glanced at his phone. A flicker of realization crossed his features, followed by the subtle tightening of his jaw. Two hours. You watched him absorb the information, weighing it in the way one might consider an unexpected puzzle piece.

"Which destination are you trying to go to, sir?" you asked tentatively, hoping to soften the atmosphere.

The stranger shifted slightly, his posture still composed, his voice was calm, almost melodic when he replied.

"I was supposed to have transport arranged..." he said, his tone polite and precise "...but it didn’t show up. I’ve been walking this way for a while, trying to get to the nearest railway station." he glanced out at the rain, a resigned smile touching his lips "For now, I’ll just wait until the rain lets up."

Okey, so no formalities.

You bit the inside of your cheek, a twinge of pity blooming in your chest. Maybe it was the tiredness in his eyes, or maybe it was the strange comfort his voice seemed to offer, but something about him made you want to help. You felt yourself faltering, unsure if it was compassion or simply the pull of his presence that made you act.

Taking a small step forward, you hesitated again before speaking.

"I-I would give you my umbrella if I could.." you said shyly, stumbling over the words "but…I could share it with you instead, i-if you’d like. I’m walking that way, anyway." your voice was barely above the rain’s patter, and you glanced up at him nervously, your heart pounding as you waited for his response.

The stranger raised an eyebrow in surprise, his sharp features softening as a smile spread across his face. It wasn’t just any smile - it was warm, affectionate, the kind that could melt away the weight of the rain.

"That’s very kind of you." he said gently, his voice carrying a note of sincere gratitude "But are you sure? I wouldn’t want to trouble you."

You nodded quickly, almost stumbling over your own reply "It’s not a problem at all." you said, your cheeks heating despite the cool rain.

He stepped closer then, the movement calm and deliberate.

"May I hold the umbrella?" he asked, his voice steady but tinged with the kind of humor that made you feel at ease.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his earnestness. Then, in a burst of nervous laughter, you blurted out "This isn’t some elaborate plan to steal it, is it?"

He chuckled in response, the sound rich and unhurried, with a warmth that made your heart skip "I promise you, I’m not that desperate. Though I must admit, it’s quite a fine umbrella."

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, a little more freely this time "All right." you said, handing it over "No running off with it, right?"

His smile widened, and he inclined his head in mock solemnity "You have my word."

As he took the umbrella from you, he glanced at the bag in your hand "That looks heavy." he said, his tone still gentle "May I carry it for you? It’s the least I can do."

You blinked, surprised by his offer "Y-you don’t have to." you said quickly, though the weight of the bag was starting to bite into your shoulder.

"I’d like to." he replied softly, his voice full of tact and patience. He met your gaze with an earnestness that left you speechless for a moment "Let me repay your kindness in some way."

Before you could overthink it, you handed him the bag, watching as he slung it over his shoulder with ease. He took the umbrella from your hand as well, holding it high enough to shield you both.

"Thank you." you murmured, feeling your cheeks flush again.

He smiled down at you, his presence at once intimidating and comforting "It’s the least I can do."

You fell into step beside him, careful to keep your hands close to your chest to avoid brushing against him by accident. The umbrella bobbed slightly as you walked, its surface dappled with countless raindrops that caught the dim light filtering through the trees.

His shoulder brushed yours occasionally, and each time, you felt a jolt of awareness that made you press your hands tighter together.

The rain continued its steady symphony, the forest growing deeper and darker around you. For a while, neither of you spoke, the quiet punctuated only by the soft rustle of leaves and the rhythmic tap of rain against the umbrella. Yet, despite the silence, the atmosphere felt warm, a shared sense of understanding hanging in the air.

The proximity of this stranger, his presence just inches from you, made your skin prickle. Your attempt to edge further away left your shoulder and arm exposed to the rain’s relentless assault, cold water trailing down your skin. You shivered involuntarily.

He noticed immediately. Without a word, he adjusted his stance, stepping slightly out from under the umbrella’s reach, allowing more rain to fall on himself. Then, with an effortless, almost graceful motion, he raised his elbow, lifting the umbrella higher in a silent gesture of encouragement. The movement was subtle but clear, his expression calm, his eyes soft as they flickered to you.

"Please, come closer." he said gently, his voice steady but filled with warmth "You’re getting soaked. That’s not good."

The simple suggestion caught you off guard. Your heart fluttered in your chest, a mix of embarrassment and warmth. You felt your cheeks begin to burn, a blush rising that had nothing to do with the summer rain.

"I-I’m fine!" you stammered, the words tumbling out unconvincingly "I don’t want to invade your personal space."

He tilted his head slightly, his long raven-black hair shifting with the movement. A polite smile curved his lips, one that carried both reassurance and a trace of quiet amusement.

"I wouldn’t ask if I minded." he said, his voice as soothing as the patter of rain around you "But I won’t push." slowly, he lowered his hand, letting the umbrella dip back to its previous position.

You hesitated, a tangle of emotions swirling inside you. Embarrassment, nervousness, and something softer - an inexplicable pull that made it hard to look away from him. His behavior was so composed, so gentlemanly. The way he moved, every gesture precise yet natural, left an impression. His politeness was disarming, his patience soothing, and yet his presence was almost overwhelming.

Your gaze flicked over him again, taking in the details you’d been too shy to linger on before.

His profile was sharp, his jawline defined, the curve of his lips soft and poised in a way that seemed almost practiced. His eyes, when they turned to glance at the rain-soaked path ahead, were striking - a light amber that seemed to hold a quiet intensity, like they noticed more than they let on. The line of his nose was elegant, his skin smooth and pale, save for the faint shadows under his eyes that hinted at sleepless nights.

He radiated a quiet confidence, the kind that didn’t demand attention but drew it effortlessly nonetheless. But also some kind of laziness, like some kind of easiness, that was calming and reassuring. His voice, when he spoke, was enveloping, each word seeming to hang in the air just a second longer than necessary. It was a voice you could listen to for hours, soothing yet alluring in a way that made your heart quicken.

You wondered if you should get closer. Your shoulder was getting more and more wet, which was an added encouragement to get closer to this absolutely handsome man.

It's just sharing one umbrella.

Finally, you exhaled softly, giving in to the pull you couldn’t quite resist.

With slow, uncertain steps, you moved closer, slipping your hand between his arm and his side. The warmth of his body was immediate, a stark contrast to the cool dampness of the rain. You felt the firm strength of his forearm beneath your fingers, the contours of muscle that you hadn’t expected but now couldn’t ignore.

Your fingers pressed lightly against his arm, and you bit your lip, heat spreading through your cheeks even more. It was impossible not to notice how solid he felt, how steady. You dared a glance up at him, hoping for some sort of reassurance, but he wasn’t looking at you. His gaze was focused ahead, his expression calm and unreadable, though there was a faint curve to his lips, almost as if he were holding back a smile.

The moment felt absurdly intimate, and your mind raced with thoughts you couldn’t quiet. The way he held the umbrella so steadily, the ease with which he carried your bag, the slight tilt of his head as he kept an eye on the path ahead - it all made you hyperaware of the closeness between you.

For a brief moment, you wondered if anyone passing by would mistake you for a couple. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat to your face.

Are you not dreaming too much?

His voice broke the silence after a moment, soft and steady "Comfortable?" he asked, glancing down at you briefly.

The question sent your heart racing again, though there was nothing teasing in his tone - just genuine care "Y-yeah." you managed, though your voice wavered slightly.

His eyes softened, and the faintest trace of a smile touched his lips "Good." he said simply, his gaze returning to the path.

Walking like this, hand in hand with this beautiful stranger, felt surreal. You tried to focus on the rain, the trees, anything other than the growing warmth in your chest. But it was impossible not to notice every detail - the curve of his lips when he smiled, the faint sparkle of raindrops caught in his dark hair, the steadiness of his voice whenever he spoke. It all left you feeling utterly unmoored, caught in a moment that was both ordinary and extraordinary, with no idea where it might lead.

The rain continued to fall in soft, persistent waves, the sound of it soothing as it mingled with the rhythmic crunch of your footsteps on the wet gravel path.

"Are you coming back from work?" he asked, the words floating gently between you.

Your thoughts snagged on the word, circling back to the weight of your day. The rain, the walk, the shopping - it had been such a long day that the details of work already felt distant, blurred by the rhythm of the journey home.

Noticing your brief silence, the stranger glanced at you, his expression open and polite "Ah - was that too personal?" he asked, his tone softening with genuine consideration "I didn’t mean to pry."

You shook your head quickly, flustered by his tactfulness "No, not at all." you reassured him, your voice a little breathy as you hurried to fill the space "I was just…thinking. Yes, I’m coming back from work."

He nodded slightly, a faint, encouraging smile tugging at his lips. Something about his attentiveness made it easy to keep talking, so you did.

"I work at the local library." you said, your voice growing steadier as the words tumbled out "I run classes with the kids from the nearby school sometimes. You know, little activities - arts and crafts, storytelling, that sort of thing." you smiled faintly at the thought, picturing the chaos of sticky fingers and mismatched crayons that usually accompanied your sessions "I also run an art club there, and…sometimes I help a friend in his flower shop. It’s not really a job, just something I do to help out."

He tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes watching you with quiet curiosity as you spoke. When you finished, he nodded again, as if considering your words carefully before speaking.

"That sounds fulfilling." he said finally, his voice carrying a note of admiration "You must be good with children."

You laughed softly "H-hah.. Well.. They can be a handful, but…yes, I like it. It’s nice to see their creativity come alive. I guess you get used to the chaos after a while."

His smile deepened slightly, and you caught the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes "I can imagine." he said.

Wanting to turn the attention away from yourself, you hesitated for only a moment before asking "What about you? Where do you work?"

He smiled again, this time with a touch more ease "I’m a teacher!" he said simply "I work with teenagers in high school. My friend and I - someone I’ve known since my school years - we both teach there."

The way he said it, with just the faintest trace of fondness, made you smile too. There was something reassuring about the way he spoke of his friend, a subtle warmth that hinted at years of trust and shared experiences. It made him seem…steadfast.

You glanced up at him shyly "Do you like it? Teaching, I mean."

His answer came without hesitation, his voice soft yet certain "It’s difficult." he admitted, a thoughtful look crossing his face "Teenagers require a lot of attention, and…a lot of patience." he glanced at you briefly, the faintest curve of his lips returning "You probably know what I mean. You work with children too."

You nodded, returning his smile "I do, but…I think teenagers would be a whole different challenge."

"They are." he said with a light chuckle, his deep voice carrying the faintest note of weariness. Then, as if to counter it, he added "But I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. It’s not always easy, but…it feels right. Like I’m where I’m supposed to be."

His words struck you in a way you hadn’t expected. There was something deeply genuine about the way he spoke, an unshakable confidence in his choice of work. It made you pause, your gaze lingering on him as your thoughts wandered.

You studied him quietly for a moment, considering his features again with fresh perspective. His composure, the way he carried himself, the gentle tact in his words - it all seemed to fit perfectly with the image of a teacher. You could picture him in a classroom, standing before rows of students, his sharp eyes softening as he patiently explained something. His presence, so calm yet commanding, seemed tailor-made for guiding others.

You realized you were staring and quickly looked away "You seem…well, like you’re made for it." you said quietly, hoping the compliment didn’t sound too forward.

He glanced at you, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before his smile softened.

"That’s kind of you to say." he murmured, his voice as warm and steady as ever.

But... there was curiosity in your head.

You wanted to ask what he was doing here, in a small town that offers little except rural peace and quiet. You didn't know what he could even do here. However, you didn't want to be nosy, so you sidestepped the question, leaving silence.

Perhaps he was visiting someone or had an errand to run here?

The dark embrace of the forest began to loosen its grip as you emerged into a wide clearing, where the rain seemed to soften just a little. The shift was almost imperceptible at first, but with each step, the oppressive weight of the dense trees gave way to the open expanse ahead.

Fields stretched out on either side of the path, their crops swaying slightly in the breeze. Droplets bounced off the umbrella with a little more delicacy.

The silence between you and the stranger was not awkward but companionable, like the quiet that comes with a shared understanding. The air felt fresh, cleansed by the rain, carrying with it the faint earthy scent of wet soil and the sweetness of grass. You let your gaze wander over the scenery, taking in the rolling hills in the distance, dotted with clusters of trees and lined with distant hedges. The outline of your small town was barely visible ahead, its railway station like a speck on the horizon, still far off but reassuring in its presence.

The stranger’s voice broke the silence, low and calm "It’s beautiful here." he said, his tone soft, almost contemplative "Fields like this, the hills… It’s peaceful."

You turned your head slightly, catching the way his eyes lingered on the landscape, his expression relaxed but thoughtful. There was something about the way he spoke - simple, understated - that made you feel the weight of his words. His appreciation for the scene seemed genuine, unhurried, and you found yourself smiling without thinking.

"It is." you agreed quietly, glancing out at the fields "You don’t really notice it sometimes, not when you see it every day." he hummed softly in response, a thoughtful sound that didn’t demand more words.

Without realizing when or how, you found yourself speaking again, your voice spilling into the stillness as easily as water flowing over stones. You talked about your friend from the flower shop, recounting little quirks and habits that made you laugh. You shared snippets of life in your small town, anecdotes about the library and the children who always managed to surprise you with their boundless creativity.

He listened attentively, nodding occasionally, his faint smile encouraging you to continue. At one point, you glanced up at him and noticed the slight tilt of his head, the way his eyes softened as he listened, as though he was genuinely invested in every word you said. The realization made you feel oddly self-assured, your initial shyness melting away as the conversation grew.

Eventually, you turned the question back to him, asking about his life, curious about what kind of life this composed, enigmatic stranger led.

"I teach in Tokyo." he said, his voice carrying a faint note of wistfulness "It’s…different. Busier, louder. There’s always something happening, but it’s not without its charm."

You say that most of your friends moved to the city after graduation.

So he went on to talk about his friend, the one he had mentioned earlier.

"He’s…energetic." he said with a small chuckle "And very teasing. Honestly, he’s the best person I’ve ever met, but don’t tell him I said that - he’d never let me live it down."

You laughed at that, charmed by the small glimpse of his life.

He shared a few anecdotes about their time teaching together, little moments of chaos or hilarity that had unfolded in the classroom. The way he spoke about his students and his work confirmed what you had already suspected - he was dedicated, thoughtful, and quietly passionate about what he did.

In return, you found yourself sharing even more stories from your own life. You recounted small, funny moments - like the time you had accidentally herded a neighbor's chickens into your yard, thinking they were lost, only to have the neighbor laugh and tease you for trying to "adopt" them. Or the summer afternoon when you and a group of friends decided to build a raft out of old planks and rope to sail across the pond, only to have it sink halfway through, leaving everyone soaked and laughing.

You both laughed easily, the sound mingling with the rain as it continued to fall lightly around you. The conversation flowed effortlessly, like a stream winding its way through familiar terrain. His presence, which had initially been a little intimidating, now felt warm and grounding, like a steady current guiding you forward.

At one point, you ventured to ask if he had a family, expecting perhaps a brief mention of siblings or a spouse. Instead, what he shared left you momentarily speechless.

"I have two daughters" he said suddenly, his voice soft and contemplative.

You blinked, caught off guard "You…you have kids?" the surprise evident in your voice. He looks quite young.

He nodded, glancing at you briefly before his gaze returned to the path ahead "They’re both in their teens now. I adopted them when I was just a little older than they are now - barely finished with school myself. They didn’t have anyone else... and I couldn’t imagine leaving them to fend for themselves."

The revelation left you momentarily speechless. You turned to look at him, truly look at him, as if the weight of what he’d just said needed a second to settle.

"That’s…incredible." you finally managed, your voice quieter than before, in awe "I can’t even imagine taking on that kind of responsibility at such a young age. You must have sacrificed so much."

He offered you a faint smile, one tinged with a mixture of humility and pride "It wasn’t easy." he admitted "But they’re everything to me. They’ve shaped my life in ways I can’t even begin to explain."

You couldn’t help but picture it - this tall, composed man stepping into a role that most would shy away from, shaping not just his own future but that of two young lives. It was admirable, truly.

"What are they like?"

He smiled again, this time with a warmth that softened his sharp features "Oh, they’re full of life, though very different from each other. One’s quieter, more reflective - she is very fond of plushies and all similar crafts using yarn. The other is…well, let’s just say she keeps me on my toes. She’s fearless in a way I never was. She loves photography and good food."

You simply nodded.

"I think they would enjoy your art classes. The way you talk about it makes me want to visit it myself." he added after a moment.

"You think so?" you asked with shiny eyes.

He nodded with a tender smile "Absolutely. They love anything that lets them express themselves. Art, storytelling… They’re always asking questions, wanting to understand more about the world. I think they’d have enjoyed listening to you. You have that…spark."

The compliment made your cheeks warm, and you quickly glanced away, focusing instead on the sights around you.

The conversation shifted naturally to other topics. You spoke about the world, exchanging thoughts about the small joys and challenges of everyday life. You found yourself opening up more, sharing little pieces of your own mind and heart.

As the rain finally stopped, he closed the umbrella with a soft click, holding it casually at his side. You expected him to move away then, to reclaim the space between you, but instead, he stayed close. His hand remained loosely linked with yours, his warmth still a steady presence beside you.

The world around you seemed to exhale, the fields and trees glistening with a fresh sheen as the last droplets clung to leaves and blades of grass. The sky above remained a soft, pale gray, the kind of color that hinted at the sun’s return but didn’t quite promise it yet.

With each step, the railway station came closer into view, its outline growing sharper against the backdrop of the hills. But the approaching destination only made you more aware of the fleetingness of the moment. You felt a pang of something you couldn’t quite name, a mix of gratitude and reluctance, as though part of you wanted to stay in this quiet, rain-kissed world just a little longer.

The train station finally came into view, small and modest, with its quaint stop marked by a weathered sign bearing the name of the town.

Just beyond, on one of the intersecting streets, you noticed a sleek black car with tinted windows. It stood out starkly against the quaint, rural charm of the area.

Leaning casually against the side of the car was a tall man - even taller than the stranger next to you, but dressed in a similar uniform. What immediately drew your attention, however, was his unmistakable shock white hair and a black blindfold wrapped around his eyes. His presence was striking, almost aloof, despite the relaxed posture and the wide grin that spread across his face.

"Yo, Suguru!" the white-haired man called out, his voice carrying easily over the distance. His grin widened, impossibly cheeky, as though he found the entire situation endlessly amusing.

Suguru.

So this stranger’s name was Suguru. You repeated it silently to yourself, letting the name settle in your mind. It suited him somehow, elegant and distinct, much like the man himself.

You hadn’t asked, too shy to break the natural flow of conversation earlier, the name rolled around in your mind, attaching itself to the face you had grown so familiar with over the past hour.

As you neared, you hesitated slightly, loosening your hand from his and stepping away to give him space. Suguru’s warmth lingered for a moment before the cool air slipped between you, a quiet reminder that your paths were about to diverge. He stepped forward to meet the white-haired man, who straightened from his casual lean, revealing that he was indeed taller than Suguru by a noticeable margin.

The two men greeted each other with an ease that spoke of years of familiarity. The white-haired man’s smile remained fixed as he raised a brow.

"What took you so long?” he teased, his tone light but carrying an edge of mischief.

Suguru’s expression remained calm, though you caught the faintest flicker of irritation in his eyes "You left me." he said simply, his voice steady but firm "You were supposed to wait."

The white-haired man shrugged nonchalantly, clearly unbothered "I figured you could handle it." he said, waving a hand dismissively "In the meantime I bought some souvenirs!"

Then his grin returned, sharp and teasing "Besides, looks like you found yourself a companion."

At that, Suguru glanced over his shoulder at you, and for a moment, his amber eyes softened. He stepped back toward you, handing over your shopping bag and umbrella with both hands, his movements deliberate and courteous.

"Thank you." he said, his voice kind and sincere, with just a hint of warmth. He bowed slightly, a gesture that felt both formal and personal "For your time, your help, and your kindness."

You felt a flicker of embarrassment under his gaze but managed a small smile in return "I’m glad I could help." you said honestly "And…that you found your transport."

Suguru reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small card, holding it out to you. You accepted it hesitantly, your fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment. Glancing down, you read the text printed neatly on the card.

Geto Suguru Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School (There was a phone number printed underneath.)

"If you’d like to talk..." Suguru said softly, his tone measured but kind "...or if you see something…unusual, don’t hesitate to call."

Your heart fluttered slightly. His words lingered in the air, their meaning layered with a subtle weight that you couldn’t quite place.

You nodded slowly, your thumb brushing over the edge of the card "Thank you." you said, your voice a little quieter now, tinged with a shy kind of gratitude.

The white-haired man let out an exaggerated grunt from behind Suguru, clearly impatient "Alright, alright, we’re on a schedule here, Suguru! Let’s go!" his voice was teasing, but there was an underlying firmness that suggested he meant it.

Suguru glanced over his shoulder at him, then back at you "Goodbye." he said, bowing slightly once more.

You returned the gesture, bowing politely before straightening up and giving him a small wave "Goodbye." you said softly.

As you turned away, your steps taking you toward the village path, the rain-soaked world around you seemed to glow. The thick gray clouds began to part, their edges gilded by the first rays of sunlight breaking through. The golden light spilled across the fields, painting the wet grass and the distant rooftops with a soft shimmer. You adjusted your shopping bag and umbrella, your figure gradually retreating into the peaceful scenery.

You felt happy and excited to have another conversation with him someday.

Behind you, Suguru watched silently. His soft eyes lingered on your silhouette, his expression unreadable but calm, as if committing the sight to memory. The way you walked - unhurried but purposeful, your damp hair catching the faint glimmer of sunlight - held his attention in a way he didn’t fully understand. There was something quietly remarkable about the moment, about you, and for a fleeting second, he almost considered calling out to you again.

Almost.

From beside him, Satoru nudged him playfully in the ribs, his usual grin tugging at his lips "You’re staring~" he teased, his tone both amused and pointed "Should I be worried? Or are you just enjoying the view?"

Suguru didn’t glance away immediately, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched you take another step into the sunlit clearing.

"Just appreciating kindness." he replied, his voice calm but tinged with something softer, almost thoughtful. Then, with a flicker of amusement in his own tone, he added "And a view like that deserves a moment, doesn’t it?"

Satoru let out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes behind his blindfold "You’re such a romantic, Suguru. Just don’t go writing poetry about this later, alright?"

Suguru chuckled lightly, finally turning toward the car "Not everything needs words, Satoru." he said, his tone warm with a trace of amusement "Some things just stay with you."

Satoru tilted his head, his grin widening as he opened the car door "Alright, philosopher. Let’s go before I turn into a sap too."

Suguru gave one last glance in your direction, his gaze lingering for a second longer than he intended, before stepping into the car.

As the car rolled away, Suguru found his gaze lingering on the path where you had disappeared, his thoughts quiet but persistent. He wondered, just briefly, what might have happened if he’d stayed a little longer - if there’d been more time to talk, to walk beside you under the clearing sky.

A faint smile tugged at his lips, as he told himself, almost absently, that this wasn’t the last time he’d see you.

162 notes · View notes

daryldove · 2 months ago

Text

Roadtrip

kinktober #10: thigh riding, dry humping

nsfw, daryl x fem!reader

The tension was palpable. Rick knew exactly what he was doing by teaming you and Daryl together, alone, for a run. You'd been crushing on him for months. Unfortunately, according to the group, your feelings weren't exactly subtle.

“Stop it, woman.”

“What?”

“Lookin’ at me every two seconds.” You didn't even realise you were. You mumble out a quiet apology before spending the few minutes pouting out the window, only turning to him once you hear one of his rare laughs.

“What now?” You play up your annoyance, too distracted by the smile on his face to actually be pissed. He doesn't say anything for a while, only gazing at you through his hair. Something pulls your attention away from him as it flies across your peripheral. You barely yell his name before he swerves to avoid it, your hand instinctively reaching out for him.

“Shit…” The deer disappears into the woods on the other side of the road, leaving you both startled. Only once you glance back do you realise your hand is on his upper thigh and very close to his dick. You pull away like it burns, ignoring how tense he'd become under your touch. “Sorry… Are you okay?”

He nods stiffly, eyes glued to the road. Whether his behaviour is because of the deer or you, it makes your chest tighten regardless. “Sorry,” you repeat before clearing your throat. Shit, he looks super uncomfortable.

Daryl drives for a little longer before slowly to pull over, mich to your confusion. You build up the courage to glance over at him. His body is stiff, fingers tapping on the steering wheel like his mind is racing. Panic builds in your chest. He's totally gonna get mad, probably yell at you about being an idiot and not knowing a damn thing about personal space–

The ocean of emotion in his eyes makes you freeze. He leans towards you, and subconsciously, you move closer, too. A hand reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear, and before you know it, his lips are pressing against yours. It's gentle, almost hesitant, like he's testing out his feelings.

“Daryl?” you whisper as you eventually pull away. His hand rests on your neck, massaging small patterns into your skin. The intensity of his gaze is making you increasingly more ravenous. “Come here..” His tone is desperate as he pulls your arm until you climb into his lap. Immediately, you lean in to taste him again.

The car grows increasingly hotter with the press of your bodies together. “That's it, good girl,” Daryl whispers between placing kisses and bites against your neck, having shifted your hips to grind against his thigh. Your fingers curl around his shirt, the drag of your clit against him has you whining. He squeezes your ass, helping guide your hips. “Ya make such such pretty noises…” Yanking down your top, Daryl's tongue immediately drags over your nipple as you squirm. “More…”

“I got ya, girl.” He pulls you off his thigh so he can lay the car seat back slightly before pulling your hips over his. You're surprised you don't get immediately swarmed by walkers with how loud you moan. Body tensing, your head falls to Daryl's shoulder as you barely manage to pant out that you're close.

“Come for me, pretty girl.” He sounds just as winded, his breathy grunts hitting your ear as you finally come. His own follows soon after, your name constantly falling from his lips. He doesn't protest as you collapse on top of him, trying to catch your breathe.

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl fanfiction #norman reedus #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader

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pandapetals · 20 days ago

Text

Meet The Parents

Logan suggests trying to have a relationship with your mom despite past meetings not going well.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, banter, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

After saying “I do,” life hadn’t shifted dramatically for you and Logan. You were still very much the same—you still bickered over whose turn it was to do the dishes, still made each other laugh with inside jokes, and still shared quiet moments in the early morning before the world stirred awake. But there was a deeper sense of security between you now, a quiet understanding that you were each other’s, through thick and thin.

Logan still worked on tearing down his walls, letting you into parts of himself he’d once kept hidden from everyone. And you, in turn, were learning to open up more about the pieces of your past that still haunted you. Together, you were strong—even if there were moments of vulnerability and the occasional bump along the road.

One afternoon, Logan found you grading papers in your office, and he slipped into the room with a faint smirk as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Hey, darlin’,” he drawled in a tone suspiciously close to your own impression of him, earning a laugh as you looked up.

“Oh, trying to steal my act now, are we?” you teased, setting down your pen and giving him a playful smirk. “I was wondering when you’d drop by, Mr. Howlett. ”

Logan rolled his eyes but crossed the room to wrap his arms around you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I was talkin’ to Scott,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful.

You looked up at him, arching a brow. “Oh? Hopefully, it was a good talk and not some… Scott talk .” Your tone was playful, but you could tell by the look on Logan’s face that this wasn’t just idle chit-chat.

“It was good, actually,” he replied, a faint, almost uncertain smile tugging at his lips. “He mentioned Jean’s parents… how they just adore him.” He paused, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles on your shoulder as if steadying himself. “It kinda made me think… maybe I should try to get to know your mom better. Really get to know her.”

You pulled back slightly, blinking up at him, surprised. “Logan, I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze searching yours. “Why not?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you tried to choose your words carefully. “First, she brushed you off when you met her at the hospital while my dad was dying. Then there was Christmas—she showed up unannounced, gave you the cold shoulder, and barely even looked at you. I just… I don’t want you to put yourself through that. I know how she can be.”

Logan’s gaze softened as he placed his hands on either side of your face, gently lifting your chin so your eyes met his. “Sweetheart, I’m not doin’ this just for her. I’m doin’ it for you, for us. You’re my wife, and if there’s a chance I can make peace with your family, even a small one, then I want to try. And maybe…” His voice trailed off, a vulnerable flicker in his eyes. “Maybe it’ll help you, too.”

You swallowed, feeling a familiar ache in your chest—the ache of loving someone who saw through your defenses even when you didn’t want them to. “Logan…”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Just think about it, yeah?”

Despite your reservations, you found yourself nodding. If Logan, of all people, was willing to make an effort with your mother, maybe it was worth a shot.

A few days later, you and Logan found yourselves driving down familiar streets toward your childhood home. The sight of the weathered brick house brought back a swirl of memories, some warm, others tinged with bitterness. You glanced over at Logan, who gave you a reassuring nod, his hand warm around yours.

Your mom opened the door almost immediately after you knocked, and for a moment, her face softened with something almost like surprise—or maybe it was relief. She offered a tentative smile, ushering you both inside with a bit more warmth than you’d expected.

"Well, look who decided to come see her mother," she remarked, her tone light but with an underlying edge. Her gaze shifted to Logan, and to your surprise, she extended her hand. "Logan, wasn’t it?"

Logan shook her hand, giving her his best attempt at a polite smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

For the first half-hour, things were surprisingly cordial. Your mom asked Logan polite questions—what he did, how he ended up at Xavier’s, what he thought about teaching. Logan answered each question with surprising patience, even throwing in the occasional charming remark that made her laugh despite herself.

You started to relax, thinking maybe this visit wouldn’t be as tense as you feared. Maybe Logan was breaking through her walls, the same way he’d done with you.

But then, while talking about life at the mansion, Logan let it slip.

“Yeah, it’s been a nice few months, gettin’ settled in as a married couple. Kinda feels like the place has turned into a real home,” he said casually, reaching over to give your hand a gentle squeeze.

Your mom’s face froze, her eyes flicking from Logan to you. “Married?” she repeated, her voice sharp and disbelieving.

Your heart dropped. “Mom…”

She shook her head, her eyes widening with incredulity. “You’re telling me you got married —you actually had a wedding—and you didn’t think to invite your own mother?”

Logan’s hand tightened around yours protectively, but you felt the heat of embarrassment and hurt rising in your chest. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t a ceremony, Mom. We just went to the courthouse. We wanted to keep it simple.”

Her gaze turned icy, lips pressed into a thin line as she looked between the two of you. “Simple or not, a wedding is a wedding. Do you know how humiliating it is to be the last to know about something like this? My own daughter, marrying some…” She stopped short, clearly struggling for words as she looked at Logan, her disappointment morphing into something colder.

Logan took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice calm. “Ma’am, it wasn’t about excluding anyone. We just… wanted it to be about us. That’s all.”

Your mom ignored him, focusing solely on you. “Is this how you treat family now? Running off to do things on your own without even telling the people who care about you?”

The words stung, each one laced with the familiar guilt she’d wielded over you for as long as you could remember. But this time, Logan was there, his hand firm in yours.

You took a deep breath, gathering courage. “Mom, I’m sorry if this hurt you. But Logan and I… wanted something private, something that was just ours. You know we aren’t close, and I…I didn’t want the added stress of making it something it wasn’t.”

She looked at you, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something like sadness or maybe resentment. “You really think that little of me, don’t you?”

“No, that’s not it,” you replied, your voice steady. “I think that much of myself. I wanted this to be a happy memory, something simple and true, without all the weight of… everything.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the tension thick enough to feel. Logan’s thumb rubbed soothing circles on the back of your hand, a quiet reminder of his presence.

Finally, your mom let out a sharp breath, turning away as she adjusted a picture frame on the side table—a nervous habit you recognized all too well. “Well, I hope you’re happy then. Both of you.” Her tone was clipped, and she didn’t meet your gaze.

Logan cleared his throat, shifting on the sofa. “Look, ma’am, I know this might not have been what you expected, but I’d like a chance to make things right. We’re family now, and I want you to feel like you’re a part of that.”

Your mom barely glanced at him, brushing off his words with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I don’t care for your excuses,” she said, her voice brittle, as if holding back a storm of emotions. “My own daughter has made it clear she doesn’t want me in her life.” She paused, her hand trembling slightly as she smoothed back a loose strand of hair, her face contorting as she fought to keep her composure. “After your father died, I thought… maybe things could change between us.”

You felt a familiar tension coiling inside you, a blend of anger and hurt that you’d long tried to bury. Your jaw clenched as you forced yourself to stay calm, though your voice betrayed the tremor of pent-up frustration. “It’s not that easy, Mom,” you replied, your tone sharp as you rose to your feet. “How could you possibly expect that from me? How could you think things would just… magically heal?”

Her eyes flashed, an edge of bitterness creeping into her voice. “Because he’s gone. I thought that’s what you wanted.” She looked at you, her gaze narrowing, her tone laced with accusation. “You wanted him dead—”

The words hit you like a slap, and for a split second, the room seemed to blur around you. “That’s not true!” you shouted, your voice breaking, the anger boiling up past the point of restraint. “I wanted a family—a father who didn’t hurt us and a mother who actually protected me. But instead, I got a mom who stood by and watched as her child was abused.”

Your mother’s face crumpled, a raw sob escaping her lips as she clutched her chest, her words coming out in a choked whisper. “He hurt me too…”

Before the words could even fully register, Logan stepped in, his hand firm yet gentle as it settled on your shoulder. He moved forward, positioning himself slightly between you and your mother, his expression calm.

“Enough,” he said, his voice a quiet but commanding rumble. He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t need to—there was a steeliness in his tone that cut through the tension in the room. “This isn’t helpin’ anyone. Not you,” he said, looking directly at your mother with a steady gaze, “and sure as hell not her.”

Your mother blinked, momentarily stunned by the quiet authority in Logan’s voice. She took a shaky breath, her expression shifting from anger to something almost like shame, her gaze darting between you and him.

Logan’s hand remained on your shoulder, a reassuring presence that seemed to pull you back from the edge. He looked down at you, his expression softening just a bit, his thumb brushing gently against your collarbone in a soothing gesture.

“She’s tryin’,” he continued, his voice a low murmur directed at your mother, though his eyes stayed on you. “I’ve seen what she’s been through, and I know how damn strong she’s had to be. But dragging up the past like this… it’s not gonna heal anything.”

Your mother swallowed hard, her eyes glassy as she finally looked at you with something closer to vulnerability than resentment. “I… I didn’t know what else to do,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I thought… I thought you’d let me back in if he was gone.”

A part of you softened, despite the anger still simmering beneath the surface. You could see the cracks in her carefully constructed mask, the way her hands shook as she held them close to her chest, clutching her own arms like she was trying to hold herself together.

“Mom,” you said quietly, your tone weary but sincere. “I don’t know if I can just… forget everything that happened. But I didn’t want you out of my life. I just wanted you to see… to understand why I couldn’t just be the ‘perfect daughter’ you wanted.”

Your mother’s shoulders slumped, her gaze dropping to the floor. For a long moment, the room was filled with a heavy silence, each of you caught in the web of past hurts and unspoken regrets.

Logan’s hand remained a comforting weight on your shoulder, his presence steady and unyielding. He glanced over at your mother, his gaze gentler now, as if he could see the fragility beneath her guarded exterior.

“Maybe you should give her some space,” he said quietly, his voice respectful but firm. “Let her breathe, let her process. Pushing her right now… it’s only gonna make things harder.”

Your mother looked up, meeting Logan’s gaze with an expression that was almost grateful, if not a bit lost. She gave a small nod, her shoulders slumping further. “Maybe you’re right,” she murmured, almost to herself before standing.

She took a step toward the door, pausing with her hand on the frame as if she wanted to say something more. But whatever words lingered on her lips went unspoken. She cast a final, lingering look at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing.

“If you… if you ever want to talk,” she said, her voice wavering, “I’ll be here. I’ll be waiting.”

You nodded slowly, the emotions churning inside you too complex to untangle at that moment. “Thank you, Mom.”

With one last look, she watched you and Logan walk out, the door closing softly behind you. The silence that filled the cool air afterward was thick, but there was a strange sense of relief in it like a weight had finally been lifted.

Logan turned to you, his expression softening as he reached out, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “You okay?”

You managed a small, tremulous smile, leaning into his touch. “Yeah… I think I will be.” You took a shaky breath, feeling a mixture of exhaustion and peace settling over you. “Thank you, Logan. For stepping in. I didn’t think… I didn’t think I’d ever be able to say those things to her.”

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you securely. “That’s what I’m here for, darlin’,” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. “To back you up. And to make sure you don’t have to go through this alone.”

As you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, you felt a sense of closure begin to bloom, fragile but real. The past might always haunt you, but with Logan by your side, it felt like a burden you could finally begin to let go of.

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0omillo0 · 1 month ago

Text

— hyunjin x reader ;༊๋࣭

: g. angst/fluff :

a/n : drunk confession (in the rain), mentions of wine, shouting, happy ending

♡‧₊˚🌧️

The night had started out well enough. You were at a cozy dinner with friends, laughter and conversation filling the room, the gentle clink of glasses punctuating the easy chatter. You’d been looking forward to it all week—a chance to unwind, enjoy good food, and maybe even relax enough to let go of the way you felt your heart race every time Hyunjin looked your way.

You had asked him to drive you, feeling it was easier than arriving alone and dealing with your friends’ teasing questions about your friendship. Just friends, you’d remind yourself, repeating it like a mantra as the evening wore on.

But “just friends” was hard to remember when Hyunjin was sitting so close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours, his laughter warm and easy as it washed over you. It was impossible not to feel that spark every time your eyes met across the table, even when you tried to ignore it, drowning your nerves in a glass—or maybe two—of wine.

By the time the dinner ended, you were both a little tipsy, laughing at some joke that probably wasn’t even funny as you stumbled out of the restaurant together. The rain had just started to fall in light, misty droplets, and Hyunjin held the car door open for you, flashing a smile that felt almost too intimate in the dim light of the street.

The car ride was quiet at first, the steady rhythm of the rain filling the silence between you. But as the miles passed, the silence grew heavier, charged with something unspoken that neither of you could ignore anymore. You were too aware of him beside you, his hand gripping the wheel, his face lit up by passing streetlights, each glance at him making your heart race.

Finally, you couldn’t take it. The warmth from the evening, mixed with the alcohol still buzzing in your system, pushed you over the edge. You broke the silence, your voice soft but full of something you’d been holding back for too long. “Hyunjin… do you ever feel like we’re pretending?”

He glanced over at you, caught off guard. “Pretending?” His brow furrowed in confusion, but there was something else in his eyes, something hesitant, like he knew exactly what you meant but didn’t want to acknowledge it.

You sighed, looking out the window as the rain started to fall harder. “Like… we’re pretending to be just friends.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and immediately, you felt a pang of regret, of fear that maybe you’d gone too far.

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he kept his eyes on the road, his jaw tense, his hands gripping the wheel tighter. The silence stretched, thick with tension, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest, each second that passed filling you with more doubt.

Just when you thought he might ignore you, he pulled over to the side of the road, the car coming to a sudden stop. The rain was pounding down now, drumming against the roof, echoing the frantic beat of your heart.

He turned to you, eyes dark, his voice laced with frustration. “Why would you ask me that?” he demanded, his tone sharper than you expected. “Why now, after all this time?”

You felt a surge of anger rise up, fueled by his evasiveness, by the way he always acted like there was nothing between you, like he didn’t notice the tension simmering beneath the surface every time you were alone. “Because I can’t keep pretending like it doesn’t matter, Hyunjin!” you shot back, your voice trembling with emotion. “I can’t keep acting like I’m okay with being ‘just friends’ when… when I feel like this!”

“You think you’re the only one who’s been afraid of this?” he said, voice rough with emotion. “You think I haven’t thought about what it would mean if we crossed that line? If I told you… if I admitted that…” He trailed off, his words swallowed by the rain, but you understood.

Suddenly, the distance between you felt unbearable, the space charged with the weight of unspoken feelings. Before you could think, before you could let doubt creep in, you closed the gap, standing so close you could feel his breath, warm against the chill of the rain.

The confession hung between you, filling the small space of the car with an intensity that was almost overwhelming. For a moment, you both just sat there, breathing hard, staring at each other as the rain hammered down around you, trapping you in this moment.

“You act like it’s nothing,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain. “You act like… like you don’t even care.”

His gaze softened, but there was still a fire in his eyes. “I act like that because I didn’t think I had a choice. Because I thought… I thought you didn’t want this.”

The vulnerability in his voice, in his expression, took you by surprise. It was like a dam breaking, the flood of emotions you’d both been holding back finally spilling over. Before you knew it, you were both shouting, voices raw, the frustration and longing and fear spilling out, untamed.

“I’ve been afraid,” you admitted, feeling the tears sting your eyes, mixing with the rain that had somehow managed to find its way inside the car. “Afraid that if I said something, you’d just brush it off, like always.”

Hyunjin’s face softened, his anger fading as he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, gentle even in his frustration. “I could never brush you off,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Not when you mean this much to me.”

And then, in the midst of the rain and the silence that followed, he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, the confession hanging in the air, unspoken but understood. The rain was relentless, blurring the world outside, leaving only the two of you, finally stripped of all pretense.

And that was when the silence fell, and his eyes held yours, and the anger faded, replaced by something deeper. And in that moment, all the walls you’d built around your heart crumbled, leaving only the certainty that this—this feeling, this moment—was real.

The world outside seemed to vanish, swallowed up by the rain that drummed relentlessly against the car roof. All you could see, all you could feel, was him—Hyunjin, his face close enough that you could see the raindrops clinging to his lashes, his eyes flickering with uncertainty, hope, and something far deeper.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The fight had drained you both, left you raw and vulnerable, stripped of all the defenses you’d clung to for so long. And yet, in the silence, there was a peace you hadn’t expected—a sense of inevitability, as if this was where you were meant to be all along.

Hyunjin’s hand came up, fingers trembling slightly as they brushed a damp strand of hair from your face. His touch was gentle, reverent, like he was afraid you might disappear if he held on too tightly. His eyes searched yours, a silent question hanging in the air, and you knew that if you pulled away now, he would let you go.

But you didn’t want to pull away. Not anymore.

“Say it,” you whispered, the words barely audible over the rain, but you knew he heard them. “If you feel the same… just say it.”

For a moment, you thought he might hesitate, that he might hide behind the wall he’d built around himself. But then his expression softened, and you saw the resolve settle in his gaze, a quiet determination that sent a shiver down your spine.

“I love you,” he breathed, the words falling from his lips like a promise, soft and unguarded. “I’ve tried to keep it in, tried to pretend that we could stay ‘just friends,’ but… I can’t anymore.” His voice broke slightly, and he let out a shaky laugh, his hand still resting gently against your cheek. “I love you, and I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Hearing those words—words you’d dreamed of but never let yourself believe—felt like a weight lifting off your chest. You let out a shaky breath, the relief and joy flooding through you, filling every corner of your heart until it felt like you might burst.

You didn’t need to say anything in response. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips finding his in a kiss that felt both familiar and brand new, like coming home and stepping into the unknown all at once.

The world around you melted away, the rain fading to a distant hum as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. His lips were soft, warm, and you could feel the tenderness in every touch, every gentle brush of his fingers against your skin. It was a kiss that spoke of all the things you’d both been too afraid to say, a silent confession that went beyond words.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and dazed, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, as if savoring the moment. His fingers traced gentle patterns along your jaw, his breath warm against your skin.

“I don’t know where we go from here,” he whispered, his voice laced with vulnerability, “but I know that I want it to be with you.”

You smiled, feeling the last remnants of your fears slip away, replaced by a quiet certainty. “Me too,” you replied, your voice barely more than a breath, but he heard it. “As long as it’s with you.”

For a while, you just sat there together in the car, wrapped up in each other as the rain continued to fall outside, washing away all the doubts, all the hesitation. In that moment, there was no need for words, no need for explanations—just the feeling of his hand in yours, steady and sure, a promise that you would face whatever came next together.

And as the storm began to pass, you knew that, for the first time, everything was exactly as it should be.

; tags ;

@intartaruginha @hannamoon143

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin angst #hyunjin comfort #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids comfort #skz comfort #skz angst #hyunjin x you

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