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#turning some bloom option off
moonsaver · 21 days
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Natlan's quest is great, but so far something is always putting me off. Idk, i feel like we're missing some "wow" factor here but its most likely just me + the story's actually just barely started, so! Overall ill just give it a 3/5 for now. Always kept thinking ab how much more nicer the characters would look w melanin during the entire quests. I love iansan's look!
To be honest, mavuika's burning hair would have looked much prettier if she was dark-toned. It just kinda blew up my screen when those cutscenes came up cause it was so bright in general w her pale ass lol. It just looked like a cool effect instead of "woah that is the ARCHON" ykwim?
The battle between her and capitano was great! Although i feel the cutscene was a bit short-lived + kinda lacked buildup, which made it a bit underwhelming despite how great of a scene it was
And i personally wont be pulling for any of the characters in natlan except for maybe iansan if i really end up liking her. Maybe ill consider capitano + other dark toned characters. I might download dark skin tone mods too.
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mochatsin · 4 months
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When MC Gets Pushed Off the Stairs
You can be the kindest person or the biggest brat this exchange program has ever seen, but it won’t erase the fact that you have enemies. Some demons just can’t stand the idea of a human earning the favor of the seven avatars… and there are others that plan on doing something about it.
TW: implied bullying, falling down the stairs, sprained ankle + MC in a cast, violence, demon brothers being a bit more sinister.
I was in the mood for a bunch of dark and spiteful demons. I might make a separate part of them taking care of MC during the times they have a cast.
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“Who do they think they are? They probably feel invincible when they have those brothers stuck to their hip.” 
You tried ignoring the rumors and whispers, you knew it wasn’t true so there wasn't any reason for you to bring this up with anyone. Though there were a bunch of demons, specifically these two girls, that are quite irritating. They definitely knew you could hear them, but that doesn’t mean they’ll lower their voices whenever they start talking about you. Seeing your discomfort is what even encourages them to keep talking, and you’re walking down the stairs to your next class so you can avoid them because there’s no way you’re gonna give them that satisfaction of seeing how bothered you are. 
“Invincible? As if! They’re just a human.” The other mocks, looking at you with disgust.
“Let’s find out.” Is the last thing you hear before you feel someone’s heel push your back, making you lose your balance and fall over. It was a blur after that, until he came by…
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Lucifer
Students are crowding the stairwell, and Lucifer can feel the annoyance already blooming. A crowd like this usually means trouble, and he wonders if Mammon is trying to place bets in secret again. It won’t be the first time he catches his brother discreetly collecting gambling money after convincing other students to bet on something stupid, so Lucifer isn’t going to be surprised if his initial thought was right as he pushes through to see the commotion. 
That’s when Lucifer desperately wished he was right as soon as he saw you on the ground. Two demons on top of the stairs laughed and mocked you, but the moment Lucifer stepped in the scene they immediately shut their mouths out of fear and so did the crowd of students around you. He can piece the scene together and understand what happened, but he needs to hear from you first. 
He kneels down to your level to check up on you. You’re not unconscious and that’s great, though you seemed pretty shaken up. Falling down the stairs and having several students stare at you wasn’t pleasant after all. “Come, let’s discuss what happened in the student council room.” Lucifer offers, since the last thing you need is to be the center of attention and he knows it won’t be a good idea to let you stay here longer.
He helps you stand, but you stumble and cling onto him for support. Your foot… it hurts so much that putting pressure on it sent jolts of burning pain that almost made you scream. You’re trying to be strong despite the pain, you can’t show weakness in front of Lucifer who’s relying on you to represent humans. What kind of image are you showing them? That you’re fragile and weak? It’s all getting overwhelming and Lucifer can see you’re already at your limit.
He turns to the two demons on the top of the stairs and glares at them. The temperature drastically dropped, breathing felt so heavy all of a sudden, and there’s this feeling of dread that paralyzed not only the two but also everyone around them. Trying to run away wasn’t an option, the two girls knew it would just make things worse for them. 
“I expect to see the both of you in the council room at the end of the day. Or else.” There’s no negotiations, and opening their mouths to protest is already a defiance to Lucifer’s orders. He’s already quite strict on his brothers, what more to a pair of demons that doesn’t seem to understand that there are consequences to their actions? “Everyone, get back to your classes.” 
Once everyone has finally left you both alone, Lucifer carries you in his arms. There’s no way he’s letting you limp to the infirmary in this state. He checks your ankle and sighs when he realizes it’s sprained. You thought at first that he’s stressed because you getting hurt meant more work for him, but the worried look on his face shows that it’s not about that.
You’ve been so strong for doing so much here like helping Lucifer manage all of his brothers while still doing your duties as a student, trying to keep up a good impression enough for Diavolo’s exchange program. Now seeing you hurt with a swollen ankle is making Lucifer rethink his views. It’s not pity that’s written on his face, it's… something else entirely. 
“I don’t think you’re weak at all… but maybe it’s time that we take care of you, little lamb.” Lucifer says. It’s an understatement to say that you’re dependable because you’re much more than that to him. He wonders how he even managed to get by with his brothers before you came into their lives. You’ve been so reliable, Lucifer almost forgets that you’re also fragile. You’ve done too much, you deserve a break and be pampered. It’s exactly what he does now that you’ve got a cast on your foot. 
Lucifer doesn’t like seeing you with those crutches, it doesn’t sit right with him when someone like you is suffering from something as basic as going up the stairs. He starts making a proposal about making RAD more accessible for students by adding elevators or magical levitating platforms. While it’s a good idea on its own, you can tell that they had this plan so that you don’t have to suffer through the stairs anymore. Everyone else immediately agreed to the proposal without second thought. 
Lucifer had the two demons apologize to you, and he doesn’t care whether they bruise their skin or get covered in dirt, they will be doing it properly. To beg on their hands and knees, bowing down until their foreheads touch the floor. He won’t let them up until they actually feel genuinely sorry, he doesn’t care how many students will be staring at their pathetic displays. He’s almost tempted to dig his heels into the back of their skulls should they lift their heads for even a single inch from the ground. 
He’ll chip away at their pride that led them to hurting you, finding a way to humiliate them in every subtle way until they’re the ones cowering their head. Lucifer would make subtle comments each time their paths would cross, always looking for a single flow that he would call them out for under the pretense of how it’s unbefitting as a student of RAD. It’s so harsh that the brothers almost felt sorry for them. Is it petty? Perhaps it is. But he doesn’t feel guilty at all when they actively chose to hurt you, and maybe he’ll stop once your ankle is all better.
Mammon
You two were together but then he said had somewhere he needed to be. Mammon was supposed to meet up with you before classes, he just needs to talk to some people he owed a few grimm to and possibly ask for another deadline extension. He’s turning to every corner trying to make sure Lucifer won’t spot him counting his debt, though he did notice the crowd that was forming a few meters away. 
He didn’t give it much thought at first, but that’s until he heard the whispers of students walking towards the scene. ‘It’s that human exchange that fell’ ‘fell? They were pushed, weren't they?’ And that’s when Mammon starts to sprint, honestly hoping that it was Solomon and not you that they were talking about. 
“Outta the way dammit!” Is all you hear, with a few grunts from students getting forcibly shoved to the side before Mammon finally finds you on the floor clutching your ankle. He squats next to you to check the damage, and you can tell from the expression on his face that it doesn’t look good at all. 
He looks up at the stairs and sees the two demons snickering at each other before running away from the scene. Mammon recognizes them, he’s heard some of the nasty stuff they’ve said about this exchange program, and especially about you. It just never occurred to him that they’d do something this drastic when given the chance. Mammon was gone for ten minutes and that was enough time to hurt you. 
He wanted to run after them, force the two to apologize to you. To make them pay. Though the wince and cries from you are what makes Mammon think with a clear head. You tell him that your ankle is hurting, you can’t move it as much without any pain. So he carries you and makes a run for it to the infirmary. No ambulance compares to how quickly Mammon ran just to get you some help.
Mammon stays by your side, too afraid to leave you for another second after what happened. He stares as they patch up your ankle and you’ll be in crutches until it heals. He’s mad, but definitely not at you. He’s angry that this happened under his watch when he’s supposed to be making sure you’re safe from demons like those. That was a role entrusted to him and he already feels like he failed.
“Ya aint leavin’ my sight, not until that ankle of yours is back in shape aight?” And he meant every word. If he’s not glued to your hip, then you swear you can see a three-eyed crow that’s following you around wherever you go. You just feed it some snacks if you have some when you can, and you wake up with shiny trinkets by your desk the next day.
Mammon is ready to be at your beck and call anytime you need it. You let out a grunt of frustration if you dropped your bag and spilled all your belongings. Your sprained ankle makes it hard for you to bend over to get them, but the moment you turn your head, Mammon is already at your feet grabbing you everything. If it weren’t for the circumstances (like your injury), Belphie would probably exploit this and make his older brother do everything while pretending you asked for it. 
The two girls have noticed how much those crows have been following them around. Crows can hold grudges, and they definitely recognize the demons that hurt the human they (and their master) care about. 
It started off as something harmless as landing on their desks, squawking at them, or stealing their pens before an important exam. Though when Mammon noticed them occasionally mocking you behind your back for that cast once you came back to RAD, the crows became more aggressive. The birds pulled on their hair, pecked and bit on their skin, clawing at them whenever they could.
Desperate for this madness to stop, the demons are already by Mammon’s feet begging for the crows to leave them alone. Personally, Mammon would’ve done something much worse but there was no way he’s going to abandon you for a second with that cast. “I’m feeling quite generous, so if ya hear me out on my conditions i’ll let you off the hook yeah?” 
In exchange for finally getting some peace from those crows, the demons agreed to two conditions. One, never to lay a hand on you ever again unless they want the risk of the birds invading their homes. No more mocking or even looking at you with malice. Two, pay Mammon every month. By the time that you got that cast removed, Mammon has paid off some debt from his classmates and he’s quite proud of it. At least he could take care of you and save some coin at the time. No one said it had to be his money right?
Levi
Levi didn’t spend lunch with any of his brothers or classmates as usual today. He likes spending his free time alone in isolated places like the school garden, empty classrooms, or even the rooftop so he could play his games or watch his anime in peace. Socializing with too many people is overwhelming, this is his own way of recharging to get through the rest of the day. 
Though there are rare instances that Levi would ask you to join him in his little hideouts, because you’re one of the people he doesn’t feel too draining to be around. He planned to share some of the snacks he bought for the both of you, but he saw that you were talking with his other brothers at the cafeteria. Feeling dejected, he decided to spend the lunch alone as usual and wait for the class. There’s no way you would want to spend time with someone who’d rather play gacha games on his phone for lunch…
He was hiding by the corners of the stairwell to play his game when he overheard two demons talking so badly about you, followed by hurried footsteps and then a heavy thump at the end of the stairs. Then he heard a familiar voice cry out in pain, and it’s when he realized that you were pushed off the stairs. He saw your body on the floor, trying to recover from the fall and he felt like his world was crashing in on him. He’s frozen in place, unsure of what to do without making things worse.
You turned around and found him hiding behind the stairwell, eyes locked for a moment that felt like an eternity to the demon. That’s when Levi realized he can’t just stand there idly when his player two is injured. Despite the anxiety, he ran to your side anyway to check on you. His face went so pale when he saw you clenching your ankle, the pain evident in your expression. “I-i’ve got you just… dammit what do i d-do…?!” He mumbles the last part, because he knows this isn’t a game where it takes one button to heal you back. No saved file to help him now. 
Levi looks up at the stairs and sees the two demons glaring at the both of you. Out of all the brothers, they would never take Levi seriously. To them, he’s just some demon who dedicated his life to a world of fiction and seeing him fumble right now just proves it. They say that Levi just lacks any real skill to even help you before they left. 
He hates to admit that those two are right, and that makes him loathe himself even more. Levi almost went down on a spiral, but that’s until he felt a phone get placed on his hand. He turns to meet your gaze, you handed him his D.D.D. and he knew what you were asking him to do. Levi quickly dials for his brothers and help came to you after a minute of doing so. He’s thankful for their quick responses, he wouldn’t be able to handle it if a crowd started forming around you both. 
Everyone of them was huddled outside the infirmary while you were getting patched up, and Levi explained what he witnessed. Though he starts going into his self-destructive speech patterns at how he could hardly do anything to help you by himself that he needed to get his brothers to do it for him. He felt so useless to you, but Lucifer interjects. “It’s natural to panic. But if you did not call for us, then they would’ve been in pain for much longer.”
That helped Levi feel a little bit grounded hearing reassurances from his brothers. Lucifer then tasked Levi to be the one in charge of taking care of you during school days. Since Levi also takes his classes online, then he can watch over you while you’re resting in the house. You both can take online classes together while you recover from your injury.
Levi spends most of the time in your room instead because there’s no way he’s making you go up those stairs to his room, and he doesn’t want to risk you getting hurt or slipping if you try to get in his bathtub. As clumsy as he could be, Levi did his best to take care of you. He did want to spend some time alone with you, but he wished it didn’t take a sprained ankle to get what he wanted. 
“I-if only this healing item exists, it would’ve been really handy right now…” He says as you both play a two-player game, the demon staring longingly at the recovery potions on the screen and wishing it could take away your pain right now. Levi often wonders… maybe if he didn’t sulk from the jealousy, if he actually asked you that day to go spend lunch with him, then maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt like this. 
Levi was watching some anime while you slept, and he saw the bullies on the anime picking on the innocent main protagonist. The scene just reminds him of what happened to you, and that brings him this sense of rage and justice. It was unfair what those two girls did to you, and Levi doesn’t think it’s right that he does nothing about this (assuming that his brothers haven't gotten to them first). 
The girls found all their accounts hacked. From Devilgram to their bank accounts. Their emails and passwords were changed overnight so they couldn’t figure out how to get it back, and if by some miracle they recovered their accounts, everything was already wiped clean by then. Levi may not be the most confrontational brother, but he’s the best behind the screen. He’s chugging his third energy drink as he thinks of new ways to plant a virus in their D.D.D.’s when he goes to school at the end of the week to hand over both of your homeworks. 
When Levi overheard the girls still talking about you during break, they found all their stuff completely drenched and ruined by the time they came back to their seats even though the classroom remained dry. Gadgets were water damaged, and schoolwork that they were supposed to be submitting later is already long gone. Even their lockers were stuffed with sand and sea water, spilling all over their uniforms as soon as they opened it. The teachers scolded them for the mess they ‘created’ no matter the protests that they never did, but who would believe them if they said it was Levi’s doing? The girls never uttered your name again.
Satan
The teacher assigned you both as partners for a class project due next week, and Satan suggested that it’s best to get a head start on it while your schedules are free. You babysit all of his brothers every day, so Satan expects that your days are going to be quite busy if any of them knew you had a bit of free time to spare. At least his plans are something productive, he gets to spend time with you while also finishing some homework together. 
It’s ten minutes past the agreed time you both were supposed to meet. Satan is outside the school library, tapping his foot on the floor as he messaged you but receiving no response. He knows he could’ve gone ahead to do some research to pass the time, but the point of this study date was to do the project together. It’s never like you to be late without any notice, so he sets out to look for you. 
Satan is walking swiftly, wondering if you were still at the cafeteria. He dials your number to try to call you during his search, and he stops in his tracks when finds your phone on the ground, the screen cracked. It brought alarms in his head and he picked it up to figure out where you must’ve dropped it. It wasn’t hard because he soon spotted the crowd of demons by the stairway nearby. He could immediately guess what happened as he ran to the crowd, and he’s shocked when finally sees that you were the source of commotion.
He doesn’t care how many students he shoved just to get to your side. Seeing you on the ground in pain already warrants an emergency. Satan guessed your phone flew out of your hand when you fell. “What happened to you?! Where does it hurt?!” Satan asks, pulling you close in his arms and checking what’s causing you pain. He sees your ankle swelling slightly, and he’s trying to deduce what he can do to help after reading all of those human health care books just for you.
Though the laughter he’s hearing from the distance is annoying and distracting. Satan glances up and spots the two girls fleeing the scene, looking so proud of themselves. When he realizes what happened to you, his anger is already bubbling through the surface that it’s almost hard to contain. The pained expression on your face doesn’t help, the only reason he hasn’t fully transformed into his demon form is that he doesn’t want to draw more attention or hurt you more than you already are.
The way these students crowded around you like vultures to a feast is making Satan frustrated at each and everyone of them. How could they just stand there and watch while you were in pain? And those two girls, he will make sure to burn their faces into his memory for later. You could practically feel the heat of his wrath radiating from your pact and it’s making your body hurt more. Satan realized that his temper right now could be causing you more pain, so he focuses his thoughts into getting you some help instead of the anger that wants to burn everything and everyone around you.
“Calm down… just calm down…” he mutters over and over while he gently scoops you into his arms, though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself. Satan is careful when carrying you so he can take you to the infirmary, and all the students parted like the red sea when Satan shot glares at them, quickly scattering like rats while the two of you disappeared into the infirmary. 
His eyebrows are furrowed the entire time as he waits for you to get patched up. His brothers have already arrived after they heard what happened, though they could sense that the fourth born is already on edge like a ticking time bomb. He’s quiet not because there’s nothing to say, but because he’s trying to hatch a plan. Something like this shouldnt go unpunished…
Satan is glad for his position in the student council because it meant that he could access some files from RAD. What does he do best? Studying and gathering as much information as he could. He looks for any detention notices until he finds the names and faces of the two girls that hurt you. A smile spreads across his face, though it was nothing pleasant. Like he just found his new prey. 
He just needs to wait for that detention day, patience is the key to success. So for now he’ll focus on taking care of you. Satan pays more attention to you, always attentive to your needs. He brings you notes from any classes that you’ve missed during your recovery, and you heard from one of the brothers that they’re all trying to rack up money for a better phone since yours broke. you do admit that you feel bad for all the extra work he puts up for your sake, especially since Satan even had to do most of the project that you both were originally supposed to do together in the first place if it weren’t for the incident.
��You’re speaking nonsense. I don’t mind putting in more effort just for you, all you need to do is to recover. I’ll consider that as my thanks.” Satan would bring you books in bed or make you some coffee topped with some latte art just so you wouldn’t feel so bored. You can’t go to cafes or libraries with him like you both used to, so Satan will do everything with you in the comforts of your room. 
Satan counted the days until it was time. He assigns another brother to watch over you. Asmo pretends not to hear the sound of the main door closing in the middle of the night, distracting you with something pretty he recently bought. The next school day rolls around and everyone is lucky you’re still in bed rest when the news broke out. Two students were found unconscious on the stairs in an awful state. Normally, falling down a flight of stairs doesn’t do much damage to a demon as much as it can to humans. And yet the bones in their legs were absolutely shattered…
None of the brothers were honestly too bothered to tell you the events that transpired, mostly because they knew the culprit. Satan would rather that you focus your energy on recovering. The only news that Satan told you was that you both got a perfect mark on the project you both worked on in the comforts of your room, but he doesn’t bring up what happened to those two demons. You only found out when Solomon accidentally told you during his visits. 
Asmo
There’s only a few minutes left before the next bell would ring, so Asmo makes sure to retouch his makeup in the school’s bathroom just as he usually does. He dedicates twenty minutes of his daily time making sure that he looks absolutely perfect, so he could bless the eyes of those who pass by to bear witness of his beauty. At least, that’s what he always tells you whenever he leaves. 
Just a bit of blush here and there to match his eye shadow, and Asmo has this proud smile on his face when he’s sure that he looks absolutely spotless. He wanted to bring you along to his little pre-class make up routines, and maybe next time he’ll hear that sweet ‘yes’ from you when he asks. Just thinking about you is making him giddy, so Asmo packed up his pouch and tried to look for you.
It didn’t take him long because as soon as he opened the bathroom door, he spotted a few students by the stairs. Asmo finds it unusual because what could be so important that he’s not the center of attention? Regardless, he’s intrigued enough to investigate the source and he’s horrified to see you down the stairs, clutching your ankle. 
If it wasn’t you, then it was Asmo’s shriek that probably drew more attention to the scene. He’s quickly running to your side and checks if you hit your pretty little face anywhere. “Darling, that must’ve been a nasty fall! I would hate it if you got any bruises anywhere on that perfect skin of yours.” Asmo whines as he helps you sit up to give you more support, wrapping an arm around your waist. 
When he did so, he heard a scoff and finally turned his attention to the top of the stairs where the two girls looked at you with disgust. He recognizes one of them from his fanclubs, a girl that often tried to get his attention. The facial expressions and body language says all he needs to know, he’s seen this look before. Someone like you being held by Asmo is a major offense to her eyes. The two demons storm off before Asmo could say anything. 
Asmo pursed his lips together in frustration before he turned to all the students crowding around you. For once, he hated this attention you’re getting and he sees how much you’re getting shaken by this. “Scram.” Asmo said with enchanted glowing eyes, watching as they all obeyed his command. He then turns to you and wraps your arm over his shoulder to hoist you up. “Come on, let’s get that treated or Lucifer will kill me!” Asmo says to try lighten the mood, though it doesn’t hide the bloodlust in his eyes. 
He doesn’t like sweating when he just retouched his makeup, but he can’t even bring himself to think about that now whenever he hears the pained whimpers from you everytime you struggle to take a step. The brother’s eventually arrive to find Asmo outside the Infirmary, scrolling through his phone. Looking closely, he’s actually stalking the profile of the demon he saw earlier and there’s a sinister smile on his face whenever he learns something new about his target. The smile was enough to creep Levi out. 
Asmo is always checking up on you when you’re at home recovering, trying to cheer you up whenever he has the chance. It’s gotten to the point he lessened his time clubbing or going to malls just so he could stay with you. “When you’re out of that cast, there will be a special bath full of rose petals with your name written all over it.” Asmo does his best to pamper you whenever he can, knowing how hard it must be to have that cast. It’s truly awful when these sorts of things have to happen to you when you both just bought some matching shoes together! He decides not to wear it yet until your foot gets better.
While you were gone, Asmo did what does best. Gossip. He started giving that other demon attention like she always wanted, whispering and suggesting things in her ear. About how that other demon, her friend, was saying disgusting things behind her back and Asmo is only telling her this to ‘look out’ for her sake. He relishes in her angered expression, knowing he now has her wrapped around his finger like a puppet and all he needed to do was sit back to watch the show.
Each day he found himself feeling excited to go to school just to see how those two would hurt each other this time. It started as something petty with his fan constantly bumping into what she used to consider as a friend, feigning ignorance whenever she’s confronted. Of course, she retaliated back until their silent arguments full of passive-aggressiveness turned into something more violent and hostile. It started from mean notes to death threats until they can’t even stand being in the same room without trying to claw out each other’s eyes. All because of Asmo’s pretty words.
There are times teachers are called to intervene because two girls began fighting in the hallways, screaming profanities while pulling at the other’s hair or horns. Whenever the drama dies down, Asmo would go back to add more fuel to the fire just to watch them burn. He tells his dedicated fan more lies just to enable that rage, spreading a rumor or two around the campus to make it sound reliable. He loves having that charm that captivates and charms, especially someone as gullible as this demon who’d listen to anything he says.
News was no longer about your recent incident, it was now about how the two demons fought so badly that they fell over the stair railings from the top floor all the way down. Given the severity of the injuries they’ve given each other from the week alone, they had no choice but to be suspended until the student council decides what to do with them. 
Of course, the brothers knew Asmo pulled the strings, seeing that smile on his face whenever the two girls would try to tear each other apart made it so obvious. Not only was it easy and entertaining, but it kept his nails clean too. It’s not like he broke a rule right? They both did this to themselves. “I can’t wait to tell my darling what happened~!” Asmo hums excitedly on his way home to you.
Beel
Lunch time is definitely Beel’s favorite part of the day (and the lunch lady's worst nightmare). He’s golfing down as much food as he could since he’s been so hungry from his last class which was Magical Potions. Whenever his hunger starts to act up, it’s already a struggle not to eat the ingredients to alleviate it, knowing his teacher would scold him just like last time when he chowed down the entire jar of shadow salamander tails. 
He’s lucky whenever you both are paired up together, since you bring him some candies to alleviate his hunger enough for him to focus again. You were his lifesaver. Just the thought of you makes Beel wonder where you were. He went ahead today because you said you needed to see Satan to discuss a project, and you were taking quite a while. He’s had food saved up for you and it’s getting harder for Beel not to eat your share, plus it’s always better when you both eat together. 
The last straw was when he saw Satan in the cafeteria and when he asked the blonde where you were, the fourth born said he couldn’t find you. Beel grabs a few snacks to keep his stomach going when he searches for you. Normally it’s hard to convince Beel to leave the cafeteria during lunch break, but you’re that important for him to abandon the heaping food on his table. He was trained as an angel to be ready for any sort of disaster, and his gut is telling him that something is definitely wrong. He only confirmed it when he was walking down the stairs and saw everything. 
Two girls were laughing and mocking the human he’s grown to love and care for, and when he found you on the bottom of the stairs after a fall, Beel was seeing red. He doesn’t hesitate to slam his fist against the wall and demand silence, because there was no way he was going to let them insult you any further. The two demons saw him and stiffened, quickly running away from the scene to avoid getting caught. The girls knew that Beel would crack their skulls open like he did to that wall if he got his hands on them.
Beel normally would’ve gone after them, but seeing how you’re struggling to get up on your own is what changed his mind and ran to you instead. He doesn’t even get to run all the way, at some point Beel jumps down the last flight of stairs just to reach you quicker. “Tell me if it hurts…” Beel whispers as he tries to help you up. You winced from the pain, and he decided to effortlessly carry you all the way to the infirmary because he would never make you limp this entire trip and deal with the ache. He’s a big demon, and lots of people find him terrifying when aggravated. And yet he’s so gentle when it comes to you.
Being a fangol player, Beel knows what it’s like to hurt yourself. He’s had Lucifer and Mammon help him back to the house after one intense match against the opposing team. The difference is that he could heal a bit more quickly compared to your fragile human body. What normally takes days for his body to regenerate could last months for you. He’s being careful when he carries you to the infirmary, holding you close like you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever held and he might be right at this point when he watches the nurses patch you up.
Beel is pacing so much outside the infirmary that his twin had to calm him down before he would drill a hole in the middle of the halls, his head is thinking about all of the what-ifs. Luckily you weren’t critical, save for the sprained ankle, but there’s this guilt on his face when he looks through the window and sees your cast. Maybe he should’ve been with you when you went looking for Satan so that he would have protected you, but what’s done is done now. So he focuses on taking care of you and reminding you that you could always rely on him for help.
He brings you some of your favorite treats whenever he comes home from RAD so you both could eat together. At some point, he heard from Solomon that milk is the key for humans to have stronger bones. You tried not to laugh when Beel got a galon just for you, innocently thinking that it would’ve helped you out with your injury if you drank all of it. 
Beel is too nice for a demon, he might be the kindest of the seven brothers. But there’s been this tension around the orange haired demon whenever he’s sharing a class with the two girls that pushed you down those stairs. There's this hardly contained rage and blood lust, so a lot of students avoided mentioning what happened to you around him unless they want to get caught in the crossfire. 
Beel finds it frustrating whenever he feels that he can't do anything about this rage. Watching you limp around in crutches around the house while those girls were striding down the halls without a care, it wasn't fair. It’s taking all his willpower not to just throw them out of the window for what they did to you. He broke several pens whenever he's too angry during class that Satan had to lend him some of his own. He feels this loss of appetite now that you’re not around to share food with him, and whenever he would remember the incident he would bend the metal of his fork, shaping it effortlessly like it’s clay. It’s a matter of concern for the brothers now.
Belphie took his twin out to the gym so Beel could let his frustrations through workouts. He may have destroyed two punching bags, but it was enough to bring down that anger to a safer level now. And during all that, Beel finally confided in his twin. About how he saw those girls mock you, and this innate urge to just see them suffer but it’s impossible to do that without destroying everything in his path. He would get in a lot of trouble, and he knows that would upset you instead. 
“It’s just unfair, you know that they didn’t deserve that…” Just because he was nice doesn’t mean he wasn’t vengeful, but he’s at a loss of what he could do that wouldn’t result in another property damage bill sitting on Lucifer’s desk. Belphie can just sense how his Beel is itching for a bit of revenge, and who is he to deny what his twin wants? 
For Magical Potions, Beel had to partner up with Satan and Belphie since you’ll be absent for the time being. They had the perfect plan, all Satan needed was a good sleight of hand to drop something in their cauldron when he walks by. Given that these two love pulling pranks on Lucifer specifically, they took a page out of their book of schemes for new targets. 
Maybe his brothers forgot to consider that these two demons do not have the same kind of strength or resistance that the eldest had… or they both did this on purpose. Adding hellfire frog legs into the girl’s cauldron during Magical Potions class was actually more explosive than they expected, resulting in awful burns on their skin and hair. Beel’s priority is to take care of you everyday so he didn’t have much time to relish in this side of his that wants to wreak havoc, but he admits that seeing your bullies in pain like this is actually fun. It’s almost as satisfying as those ten stack pancakes he had two days ago… ah great, now he’s getting hungry again.
Beel is coming home to you with a box of your favorite treats. You wanted to try those new batch of sweets from Madame Scream but the brothers kept you in bed rest due to your ankle, so Beel went out of the trouble to get them for you. It took a lot of willpower not to eat a single one on the way back which deserves praise. You’ve been feeding him so many snacks during class to help him focus, this is his way of returning the favor to you. 
He doesn’t bring up what happened during potions class with the girls that pushed you, and he honestly didn’t feel the need to do so since they weren’t important as you are to him. He’s too busy trying to feed you some yummy snacks to even think about that. You only hear about what happened through his twin who was grinning from ear to ear when he recalls the boils and burnt hair. “Well, it’s their fault for not checking their cauldron. They’re not smart and careful like you.” 
Belphie
Belphie found a perfect spot to sleep around RAD where he’s sure Lucifer won’t spot him yet. It’s hidden in the school gardens, a nice secluded area with a small bench surrounded by bushes that would surely keep him out of sight. He’s been slowly putting pillows and blankets he’s brought so that it becomes a little slumber haven for him, and Belphie feels that he’s ready to show you his secret spot. He’d never tell his brothers because he wants to have at least a few minutes alone with you every weekday.
The problem with that plan is that Belphie can’t even find you. He’s already at the verge of passing out from the exhaustion of trying to keep himself awake in his search for you. Lunch in school is normally his nap time allowance, but he really did want to show you this secret hide out so that you both could enjoy it together. 
He runs into his twin who was also looking for you, so it’s better they just stuck together right? Belphie had plans to show Beel anyways once this was done with. They passed by a corner to go upstairs in case you were already in the classroom, and that’s when they both saw you at the bottom of the stairs where those two girls were laughing at you. 
Belphie didn’t know what came over him, but his body could hardly move when he saw you like that. It’s bringing him a lot of bad memories of choices he came to regret until this day, remembering the things he did to you when he threw your body down the stairs. He wanted to forget that, but seeing this whole situation is making that memory repeat in his head. Like the guilt is creeping back to him, and he froze in place not knowing what to do other than to relive the moment. 
Beel grabbed Belphie by the wrist to snap him out of the trance, reminding the youngest that you need some help. The twins came by your side, hoisting your arms over their shoulders to help you in the infirmary. The two girls were already long gone while Belphie was in a frozen state, and Beel would’ve gone after them if not for his twin and you because his family always comes first. 
The one thing that’s comforting Belphie right now is the fact that you’re still alive and breathing, though it can only do so much. He doesn’t like seeing you in pain like this, so he offers a spell so you could sleep through it while the nurse from the infirmary patches you up. He’s quiet the entire time when he watches you rest, Beel tries to talk to his twin about it but he refuses to let his problems known. It’s not like it was hard to guess, Beel can tell what’s bothering his twin but doesn’t mention it. 
Belphie has been taking naps by your side whenever possible, sleeping in your room and making sure to give you sweet dreams each time you start falling asleep. Though he himself couldn’t sleep. Each time he tries to get some shut eye with you, he ends up reliving that day when they found you at the bottom of the stairs. The way those girls mocked you was unforgivable, and he hates how it’s hitting too close to home. Whenever he wakes up, he checks on your pulse while you’re asleep and sighs in relief every time he feels your heart beat. Like it’s the only thing that can calm him down. 
By the time he woke up from his third nightmare, Belphie had enough. If he wants to feel at peace again, then he needs to get rid of the source of the problem. It wasn’t fair that you’re suffering like this, he hates seeing the empty seat next to him in class knowing that you’re supposed to be there instead of staying at home with that cast. Lucifer told him that they’ll be dealing with the matters soon, but Belphie had no intention of listening to them in the first place. 
Belphie has been gradually giving the two girls nightmares, and each night they progressively get worse. From using their phobias against them to waking up from a gorefest nightmare in the middle of the night. It costs them sleep, and Belphie thinks it’s the perfect piece of karma whenever he sees the bags under their eyes getting darker each day. Hair and clothes started to look more haphazard when there’s barely any energy to keep themselves up.
Whenever Belphie shares a class with them, he pulls a little bit of magic to make them fall asleep during class until they get into a lot of trouble. He loves doing this when there are important tests and activities so they’d miss it and fail. No amount of coffee helps keep them awake during the day while the nightmares plague their sleep. The constant fatigue and the lack of sleep is starting to get to them, and Belphie has been observing everything. Movements were more sluggish and alertness has gone below the baseline. Just exactly what Belphie was waiting for. 
It’s a simple plan that leads to the least amount of struggling and effort needed, because all it took was one shove for them to tumble out of the railings and down several flights of stairs. When they’ve finally stopped rolling against the stairs, they hear Belphie’s heavy footsteps as he walks down to their level until he’s stepping on one of them with the heel of his foot. He’d compare them to bugs, but that would be insulting to all insects.
“You know, I had a lot of plans with them that day… I don’t like it when people, even my brothers, decide to ruin them.” His love for you and spoiled attitude is what’s fueling his anger right now, so he had no qualms with pushing them down the next flight of stairs with his foot. And whenever they think it’s over, he goes down and does this again. Like kicking a pebble he’s found on the ground… all the way down to the first floor. 
There’s this satisfied look on his face as soon as he sees the two girls on the floor already at the brink of unconsciousness. He feels so much lighter now, and all he can think of is how he wants to go home to take a nap with you. He doesn’t even walk over to the side, he just steps over the two girls on his way out. 
Belphie comes home with the usual drowsy expression, but you can tell he’s in a much better mood now. He lays down next to you in bed, already hugging you close to his chest while making sure he’s not hurting your ankle. “I think I can get more sleep now…” he says with a confident smile on his lips, lulling you to slumber with him. After that incident, it’s the first in a while that Belphie finally has his usual 10 hour nap. 
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wheeboo · 1 month
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for a moment, forever | choi seungcheol
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SYNOPSIS. in which while shopping for wedding dresses for your best friend, you can't help but want to try one on too. PAIRING. choi seungcheol x gn!reader (ft. jihyo from twice as reader's engaged best friend) GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. mild cursing, terms of endearment, reader wears a wedding dress, cheol doesn't show up until like halfway into the fic HAHAH WORD COUNT. 2.2k
notes: this is lowkey me describing my dream dress if i do somehow get married lmao so also self indulgent too ig, and it was fun searching up dresses! this also reminds me of that one scene from extraordinary attorney woo. if u know u know :') happy belated bday cheol <3
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[02:39PM | y/n] should be done with jihyo's appointment in a few hours!! you can pick me up then bub❤️
[2:41PM | cheol 💕] Sounds good, my love. I'll see you then 😊
"Wait, oh my God, that one is beautiful!"
"Right?!" Jihyo exclaims eagerly before swiping to the next photo in her camera roll, on it displayed a gorgeous mermaid wedding dress that she had saved from Pinterest. "Okay, not sure if I like the mermaid ones but this was one was too pretty to not be saved."
"You can always ask to try one on too. I still think you'd rock whichever one you put on," You tell her, lacing an arm around hers as the two of you approach the bridal boutique that was just around the corner. "I still can't believe you're getting married."
When you and Jihyo exchange knowing glances with each other, squeals of excitement escape both of you. It feels surreal, almost like a dream knowing that your best friend is about to walk down the aisle and take her first steps into married life. Just ahead of the two of you, the bridal boutique gleams with soft lights and elegantly displayed gowns in the windows.
As you both step inside, the cozy warmth of the boutique wraps around you, and a subtle, lingering floral scent and delicate perfume fills the air. The interior is enchanting yet inviting, with a variety of dresses arranged by style. The boutique's consultant greets you both with a welcoming smile, and after a brief chat and a rundown of the different options, she leads you to a private area where Jihyo can begin her fitting.
You follow Jihyo as she naturally gravitates towards the gowns on display. You can tell she's already picturing herself in each dress. It's a bit overwhelming being surrounded by so many intricately designed dresses, like you've walked straight into a world of fairytale. Lace, satin, tulle𑁋every fabric imaginable seems to be represented here.
While helping Jihyo pick out some dresses, you can't lie that some have caught your eye more than you can admit. Knowing that one day these dresses will be worn by someone on of the most important days of your life fills you with awe. The thought makes your heart full, and briefly, you can't but help but imagine yourself walking down the aisle one day.
For a moment, your mind flickers to the thought of Seungcheol, and your heart does a jump.
One particular white tulle, floral embroidered dress with off-shoulder sleeves catches your attention. It's a perfect blend of elegance and romance. You let your hand run over the delicate embroidery, marvelling with admiration at the elaborate details caressed over every inch of it. The floral patterns are so finely crafted that they seem to bloom like real flowers right out of the fabric.
"Y/N, you need to try that on right now!"
You turn swiftly at the sound of Jihyo's commanding voice. "What? No, I can't𑁋"
"Come on, please!" Jihyo urges insistently while holding just about a dozen dresses in her hands. "It's so beautiful!"
"But this is for your special day, not𑁋"
"Honey, you and Seungcheol have been together for so long now, and sooner or later, you're going to have your special day too. Just try it on for fun, and I’d love to see how it looks on you!"
Okay, she really didn't have to bring up Seungcheol like that, but now you can't get it out of your head. An odd, fluttery feeling bursts in your stomach on top of the embarrassment crawling up your neck.
"Fine," You relent with a playful look. "But I'll do it after you try on all your dresses. Once again, today is for you, missy."
A wide grin spreads across her face as she shuffles towards the fitting room. "It's a deal!"
The next hour or so you spend lounging on the couch as Jihyo tries on dress after dress. Each one seems to bring out a different side of her: from elegant to dramatic, playful to sophisticated. You can’t help but laugh and cheer her on, snapping pictures and videos to capture every moment. You also help with various aspects of the fittings, from adjusting straps to even adding the veil on her head.
"You look like a princess!" You exclaim, clapping your hands as she twirls in a voluminous ball gown in front of the mirror.
"I feel like one!" Jihyo giggles, even doing a dramatic hair flip to add for an endearing touch.
The last one that she tries on is a mermaid dress with stunning lace detailing and a long, flowing train that spreads across the floor like ocean waves. As she steps out of the fitting room, the dress hugs her curves perfectly, and she looks every bit of a confident, radiant bride shining in her own element.
"Girl," You gasp out, voice full of awe. "that dress was made for you. You look absolutely stunning!"
Jihyo gazes at herself in the mirror. "Really?"
"Yes!" You claim, and you almost want to cry thinking about your best friend walking down the aisle. "I can so picture you walking down the aisle in this, holy shit."
Jihyo chuckles bashfully at your reaction.
"I'm going to be a bride," she says aloud, somewhat to herself and in a way announcing to the world too, before turning to you with a gleeful expression. "I'm going to be a bride!"
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[04:45PM | cheol 💕] Are you done, sweetheart? I got to leave work earlier and just arrived at the place. Might come in since it's boiling outside 😅
"I really don't know about this𑁋"
"Come on, just try it on!" Jihyo nudges you ever so slightly to the fitting room, the dress trembling in your grasp. "This will be us doing some early preparations for your wedding, 'kay?"
Reluctantly, you find yourself stepping into the fitting room, the dress in your hands feeling both light and heavy at the same time. Taking a long, deep breath, you start to change into the dress as the consultant comes to your side to assist.
At first, the fabric feels odd against your skin, the delicate embroidery and soft tulle brushing against your shoulders as you put on the dress. The off-shoulder sleeves fit surprisingly snug when you slip them through your arms. The floral patterns seem to come alive right before your eyes, just like they had when you first saw the dress.
You take the first glance of yourself in the mirror in the fitting room, and it's almost as if you've been kicked in the gut and all the words had left you.
"Wow," You whisper to yourself, doing a small spin to see how the dress looks, and it feels absolutely magical to be the one wearing this dress right now.
Scrambling slightly, you look around your scattered belongings on the floor for your phone, knowing that you just have to capture this very moment before you would have to take the dress off.
But you can't find your phone anywhere.
"Crap, where did I put it?" You mumble annoyedly, having to move your dress around to get a better look, yet you still don't see it. Did you leave it outside? "Hey, Jihyo! If you're out there, can you pass me my phone?"
No response.
"Jihyo?"
Still no response.
Deflating your shoulders, you decide you might as well step outside to retrieve it.
"I didn't think the dress would fit this good. It's a bit heavier than I thought but I think I could manage𑁋"
And then you freeze, almost as if you were caught red-handed committing some sort of heinous crime, because Seungcheol is standing not that far away from you, eyes wide with disbelief and mouth dropped down to the floor at the sight of you wearing the wedding dress.
For a few moments, it's like the world stops as well, and you start to feel a little self-conscious under his gaze.
"Cheol? What are you..." Then you look down at yourself and the dress you were wearing. "You're here earlier than I-I thought, I should go change𑁋"
Seungcheol blinks back to reality from your words. "Wait, no, don't move, please."
He keeps his eyes locked on you, his gaze moving from your face, to the way the dress hugs and accentuates your figure in all the right ways, then back up again. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. You can't help but feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you stand there, awkwardly holding the hem of the dress in your sweaty hands.
You can hear your heart pounding in your chest. This is not how you imagined seeing Seungcheol after Jihyo's appointment. You were expecting a casual, friendly greeting, maybe a quick kiss, and then a drive home. But this... this is different. You've been with Seungcheol for years, but he's staring at you like he's seeing you for the first time.
"Wow, I..." He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly before placing his hands in his pockets. "You're fucking breathtaking, honey."
Your cheeks burn brighter than ever, some sort of choked sound leaving you at his bluntness. You glance down at the dress, then back at Seungcheol.
"You... You think so?" You ask, voice timid and tainted with unsureness.
"Think so?" he repeats, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I know so. I can't take my eyes off you."
A rush of heat climbs up your neck as you avert your eyes away, pretending to adjust the hem of the dress, fingers clumsily tugging at the material. The dress suddenly feels suffocatingly hot and you don't know how much more you can take.
His eyes still don't leave you even when he steps closer, the features of his face softening into simply an adoring look.
You could feel your feet melting into the ground below. "Cheol, I should really go change𑁋"
"Not yet," he says firmly, and you stay put. "Just let me look at you for a little longer, please?"
That familiar, pleading tone to his voice makes your heart run laps in your chest and causes your knees to feel like jelly. He takes a few more steps towards you, and before you know, he's standing right in front of you, half-lidded eyes flickering between yours and your lips. He takes a hand out of his pocket and reaches out to gently cup your face, letting a finger trace slowly over your cheek, leaning in just close enough to whisper in your ear.
"I can't wait to marry you."
His words come out so quiet that you're barely able to hear it. And before you can respond, some loud, marching footsteps snaps you out of thought.
"Y/N! Look at this, I found the perfect veil for you!" When Jihyo sees you and Seungcheol, she stops short in her tracks, glancing at the sight of you in the dress and Seungcheol standing in front of you appearing as if he was just two seconds away from kissing you.
You clear your throat loudly, stepping away from Seungcheol and towards Jihyo.
"You found a veil for me?" You ask her.
"Yeah, put it on!" Jihyo hands you the dainty veil. "I went through hell trying to find a good one and I think this one works perfectly."
You feel Seungcheol's eyes on you as you carry the veil towards the mirror and carefully place it over your head. The light, airy fabric showers down around you, complementing the elegant gown. As you adjust the veil to your liking, you catch a glimpse of your reflection and can't help but smile. You see Seungcheol in the mirror as well, staring at you with an intense gaze of admiration.
And when you turn around, Seungcheol thinks you look more beautiful than what his imagination could possibly give him. He has to bite at his bottom lip in order to suppress some of the giddiness threatening to spread throughout his body, and the thought of seeing you again in a wedding dress makes him almost dizzy.
You're like an angel who has stepped foot into his world. The dress houses your wings and the veil is your halo. It's a perfect vision of the future he’s been dreaming about for so long it nearly makes him burst; a reality that he never thought he'd be seeing so soon.
He's going to marry you𑁋he knows he will. He knew that from that moment you first smiled at him back in your freshman year English class, all because you both simply made unexpected eye contact while you were introducing yourself. He knew it even more when he embarrassingly fell on his ass during a university soccer game and your laugh was the only sound that he could hear.
This is his first peek of forever with you, and he can't wait for it to all come true.
Seungcheol faintly hears you ask what he thinks about it, and only the heavens know how much he wants to answer by putting that ring stashed in the depths of his bedside drawer on your finger right then and there. But there's a time and place for everything. He has to make sure everything is perfect first.
So, yeah, he should really get to planning. And right now seems like a good start.
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earlysunshines · 2 months
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like you used to
minatozaki sana x fem!reader ; angst
synopsis: it’s raining it’s pouring no old man is snoring and you've run into your ex-girlfriend (aka the love of your life) after a year.
warnings: reader used to have bad habits (smoking, alcohol) ; sana is a sweetheart ; reader is avoidant ; ex's to...? ; my attempt at angst, not my forte... ; anything else I didn't mention
a/n: hey! so all i do is lie (change my mind too often) anyways this one is short I just had a random burst of motivation :-p feeling edgy, don’t expect more this is spontaneous;-;
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one thing about where you live is that there’s always unexpected surprises — in this case, the weather went from partly cloudy at 5pm to sudden thunder and lightning.
great.
no umbrella, a drenched shoulder bag, and soaked clothes cling to you as you dash for cover. when you finally find refuge at the bus stop, there’s another surprise waiting for you.
light brown hair dampened by the rain, a side profile more beautiful than flowers in bloom, and a soft smile that could captivate you for centuries: minatozaki sana.
“shit,” you mutter under your breath, running under the roof of the stop. 
patting down your blazer and pleated pants, sana turns and widens her eyes slightly. you meet her halfway, meeting her gaze and shrinking despite being a few centimeters taller. 
she gasps – almost. “y/n?”
“sana,” you tighten your jaw, feeling a knot in your stomach. “hi.”
“you’re drenched.” she points out the obvious, rushing to pull out a handkerchief in her purse. “come here.” she says, stepping closer. 
you flinch, stepping back a bit and sana frowns.
“it’s fine, it’s nothing.” you assure, feeling stiff in your place. “use it for yourself.”
“i’m not as soaked as you are.”
“it’s fine, sana.” you add firmly, clutching the strap of your bag and wiping water off your cheeks. 
even when you turn back to face the road, attempting to dry yourself with your wet blazer, sana continues to stare. you feel her eyes piercing through you, the same sweet eyes that would look at you like you were her world before you messed up. you want to shrivel up and disappear, every second beside her is grueling.
you make the mistake of glancing back at her again, she’s somehow prettier than two seconds ago – and after a year of avoiding her. 
sana’s wearing a white dress with a white cardigan on top; everything she has on is pretty damp, so you assume she got luckier and found cover quicker than you. she has on light makeup, nothing too crazy, but either way, she’d still have you staring. her hair – now slightly wet – is clipped up with a bow, making her look like some sort of princess. a small sigh leaves your lips as you break away from her.
“the rain won’t stop anytime soon, how will you get home?” she asks you, voice sweet and careful. 
“bus.”
“i heard they’re delayed for thirty minutes.”
“i can wait.” you reply, staring at the ground. “it’s nothing.”
she sighs, then steps closer to you and holds your wrist. she grabs your attention again, both your eyes meeting in eye contact that makes your heartache; she has that effect.
“y/n,” she stays sternly, “i called an uber ten minutes ago, you’re coming with me.”
“no i’m not sana.”
“yes you are.” her grip on your forearm tightens, making you gulp lightly. 
you stare at her through your overgrown, wet bangs that cling to your forehead, sighing softly. the handkerchief she had in her hand now draws closer to your face. she gently uses it to wipe away the water from your forehead, cheeks, and nose. her touch is tender, and her eyes focus intently on you, making your heart flutter in your chest.
surrender is your first option – your only option. 
“okay.”
sana’s apartment is as homey as you remember, the same couch you’d talk and makeout for hours on is still clean and fresh. 
she steps in first, kicking off her loafers and walking towards the kitchen island. 
“come.” she says, and you follow without a word, taking off your own shoes and hanging your bag up on the rack you used to.
you follow and sit down at the chair she’d used to sit at when you cooked for her, playing chef and cracking stupid jokes as you fixed her a simple pasta. her place used to be a haven from whatever you had going on, but now it’s dissolving you with every second passing by.
sana disappears for a moment, giving you a brief respite. you take this time to try and recompose yourself, staring at the marble counter in front of you. despite your efforts to push them down, memories you tried so hard to lock away from the light resurface, flooding your mind and making your heart ache with their intensity.
“here,” you jump at the soft sound of sana’s voice, looking up to see her handing you a towel – your towel.
“thank you.” grabbing it, you pat yourself down. sana hands you shorts and a t-shirt, also yours. 
“you never came back to get them.” she mumbles, sitting down next to you and searching for something in your eyes. “you know that?”
“i do.”
“mhm.” she looks even deeper, twisting you from the inside and out. “you should change.”
you nod.
by the time you finish changing, you find yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror for a moment too long, lost in a brief moment of reminiscing. shaking off the memories, you finally return to the kitchen, feeling all too much at once.
there’s a candle lit and hot ginger tea on the counter in sana’s favorite mug. she’s leaning against the counter near the stove, staring at her own cup.
you sit down and place both hands on either side of the mug. sana hums softly, “you should drink some, you’ll get sick.”
“it’s fine, i’ll get going soon anyway.”
“no you won’t.”
“and you’re the one who’s in charge of that?”
“stay the night, it’s not like you haven’t before y/n.” she sighs, looking at you with hurt in her features. “besides, i won’t let you go back. if you do, i know just seeing me will prompt you to drink and drink, maybe you’ll even light a cigarette or two if you’re sober enough to pull them out the pack.” she spits, sending a dagger through your chest.
you try to respond, but your throat dries up in the process. instead, you take a sip of the tea, not uttering a single word.
the air is weighed down with a palpable tension, like the elephant in the room sits on top of you two.
she sets her mug down, then walks over to lean against the counter in front of you, watching your head hang lower and hands run to the back of your neck.
“i’m sorry.”
“you should be.”
leaving with nothing but a note, a text, and then blocking her? sana deserves more than a sorry, but she’s grateful that you’re muttering it at all.
“i couldn’t face you.” you feel your throat closing in on itself again. “i don’t want you to be stuck on me.”
“y/n, i love you, nothing is ever going to change that even after you ghosted me.”
the whole reason you did all of that was simple: you’re an insecure, avoidant coward.
sana was and still is set up on a pedestal, one that would take lightyears to climb. she's beautiful, cunning, charming, and caring. you had never known anyone as loving as her. it was dangerous having a person so cozy and warm jump into your life when you've always been so cold and uneasy.
two years with sana were enough to create memories that would make you smile just thinking about them, but they could also send you into a spiral.
lingering in your mind were thoughts screaming for you to leave her, insisting you weren't enough and that she would be better off without you. it wasn’t jealousy of anyone else, you were too clouded with your flaws to care about that; it was the belief that you should dig yourself into a ditch so sana would realize she shouldn’t waste her time on someone like you.
she witnessed your moments of weakness. once a month, you'd drink until you couldn’t formulate a thought, and smoke to avoid confronting your problems and the personal hassles you hid from her. the monthly occurrence turned into a bimonthly thing, and then weekly nearing the end of your relationship. and still, sana would be by your side each time, making sure you were okay.
you were an asshole, and you had to pry yourself away from her somehow.
“just give up sana.”
“y/n,” you feel hands on your cheeks, cupping them and tilting your head up to meet her face sculpted by the angels above. “stop that.”
your brows upturn. “you stop that.”
“i’m not doing anything.”
“that’s the problem.”
sana rubs your cheeks like she used to, her long nail just barely grazing your skin in the process. you sink in your place, eyes avoiding hers.
“we don’t have to talk about it now, but stay. i want you safe, even if it’s just for tonight.”
“don’t do this to yourself, you’ll only hurt more.”
“there’s nothing that hurts more than knowing you’ll have a fever, it’s okay.”
without warning, she leans in, hugging you softly. sana’s warmth and softness envelop you, and you feel like you’ll freeze her, turning her rigid with your coldness.
sana feels your body go stiff, but when she rubs her back, you’re already sinking into her. she’s spent time to take care of herself, but nothing beats the way she cares for you, or just the feeling of being with you.
you had your flaws, but sana saw right past them and into your heart.
even if you didn’t think it, you were sana’s rock. sweet and caring, a sight for sore eyes, and the warmth she needed after a long day. she could talk to you about anything, and you’d be there to listen and soothe her worries, your smile easily easing the tension in her shoulders.
after countless tries (well, two, because sana couldn’t see anyone but you after that setup with momo’s friend on a whim), she had accepted that no one else could fill your spot in her life.
she feels tears soaking the material of her t-shirt, hearing you sniffle lightly into her.
sana pulls away, holding your face again. she looks at you with a mix of pity, regret, anger, and sorrow, maybe a little relief too. you’re back with her, she’s unsure of whether or not you’re still as vulnerable, but it doesn’t matter.
“it’s okay.”
“i’m an asshole.”
“you are,” she agrees, then wipes a tear from your eye. “but everyone has their reasons.”
she lets you stain her shirt with a few more tears before gently coaxing you to join her on the couch. it will take a long time to rebuild what you once had, but sana is willing to try, and you are too—especially when she holds you close, her hand rubbing your back comfortingly.
you’ve always thought you didn’t deserve her. 
but sana won’t let you let go so easily. she refuses to back down without a fight, and neither will you – not this time.
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ladybirdswritings · 4 months
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sweet thing - dbf!joel miller x reader
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Summary: Your life is in disarray. Your father is overbearing, your boyfriend is unkind— and blooming into adulthood is just about the most difficult season you’ve braved. Things only become more complex when feelings begin to develop between you and an old friend of your fathers. DBF!Joel Miller (dad’s best friend). Alternate universe as well, there is NO APOCALYPSE.
Notes: Girl I have been radio silent but this picture awoke me from my slumber because oh my God??? Look at this beautiful, haunted man. Pls enjoy the ideas that came from this still. Idk how well this will do but if u guys enjoy, lmk (I LOVE comments / interactions) and I will add to it <3
A03 | masterlist
sweet thing…
Your father did the best he could. You knew that very well. Charlie was a man respected and adored by his humble community. A hard working father turned single parent when your mom fell ill and god— you were his little flower. His sweet thing. His angel.
Flowers are fragile, though. Gentle, moldable petals and stiff, snappable stems.
It is why he kept you so close to him, so prized like painted porcelain just ready to crack.
It is why you were here. Here at Jackson’s golden hued dance with more powdered, jam-filled pastries and red, roasted meats then you could count on one hand. Here. Instead of the alternative option which was the party your boyfriend decided to attend without you.
You got the invite, sure, yet even as a legal adult— what daddy says? Goes. So long as you remain under his roof, at least. It was infuriating, though. The freedom of all your dear friends, the spontaneity. If only that could be you…
Your eyes drifted to the moustached sponge of all fun and joy in the world, wrapped in a flannel with bourbon in hand. Your dad was seated next to Joel, as he often was. His presence was a newfound thing for these recent years and though Joel would never say it, you had an inkling that he wanted to stand by his friend’s side after your mother… well.
You didn’t know Joel well. No, not at all. His visits were always the occasional dinner or drop in for fishing or some awfully manly thing. You knew well that your mother adored him, though— so that was enough to make him alright in your book.
Neighbor Betsy told you once that Joel had lost his wife and daughter too, and that maybe he was trying to keep your father from going through what he went through alone.
You only laughed at that.
Joel Miller was gruff and cold. Could he have such a warm heart beneath his sherpa coat?
You dazed out, the fingers snapping in front of your eyes made you blink back into the golden hues and roasted sausages on pointy little sticks.
“You alright, honeybee?” Your father asked, laying a heavy arm upon your shoulders. Joel was slower in his approach, eyeing you up and down with confusion and something else in his eyes.
“Peachy.” You only muttered, taking a sip of your freshly squeezed lemonade. Jackson’s finest.
“Oh come on now angel… now you know I can’t have you runnin’ off with that boyfriend of yours. I always told you he was trouble. Member’ when he ditched you down by Church Road during mosquito season? Well you were ripe as a red tomater and who had to pick you up?”
You were riper, redder now. Your cheeks an embarrassed hue not even on the color wheel, not even identifiable. You bowed your head, huffing out your frustrations before simply muttering: “you did, dad.”
He nodded proud, squeezing your shoulder. “That’s right, I did… what?”
Your eyes drifted up to see your father’s oldest friend with an odd kind of expression on his face. Brows pinched and raised, wrinkles plaguing his forehead deeper now.
Joel only cleared his throat, shifting on his boots and taking a sip of his bourbon in preparation. Then? He spoke.
“You ain’t lettin’ her be.” He gruffly offered, eyes set and sure. Your father only stilled for a moment, wondering if it was even Joel’s place to have an opinion… maybe it was.
“Why’s that?” He asked Joel, and the rough looking man only took another swig.
“Mm. We were both young once. We both made mistakes, y’gotta let her make her own— can’t hide her from em’. Just ain’t how it works.”
Poppies blossomed like springtime had finally begun in your eyes. Finally— someone understood. You didn’t expect him to be so… wise?
Your father only huffed, taking a long glance your way as he mused.
“Even if I wanted to loosen the leash tonight, Joel, I can’t. Maria needs me here to keep an eye on crazy old Arthur.”
Joel’s brows relaxed at that, a purpled hand running along the zipper of his flannel coat. His eyes were a chocolate kind of brown, dark and quietly encasing his thoughts within them.
He hummed, gaze drifting back to you.
You wanted to shrink. Perhaps it was because you were on the spot, perhaps it was because the way he stared would make anyone feel small.
It seemed like centuries before he cleared his throat again.
“I’ll take her.”
What?
You didn’t understand it, not one bit. Why was he kind enough to offer you an out here? Kind enough to test your father’s words.
Discomfort radiated through your father’s coat, tension molding its way into his already stiff bones. A long sigh, a glance back and forth as he truly considered. His expression was far too plagued with worry, and you knew well that it was now or never.
You had to slam down the last nail in the oak wood coffin.
“Please, daddy? I’ll check in every half hour, I promise.”
Tension eased, slightly but— still. Your eyes were doe-like and sweet, and he gazed into them for a moment far too long before allowing his arm to drop.
“Every fifteen minutes and you’ve got a deal. Miller, you make sure my daughter gets in and out of that bastard’s house safely.”
Joel only nodded once, jaw tense and expression stoic. Your grin was wider than a field of flowers, and you immediately wrapped your father in a hug. Your thank yous seemed endless, and it made him laugh.
When you parted, Joel had keys grasped in his rough hands. You realized for a moment that you had no idea why he was doing this. What did he owe you? Maybe it was pity. You were half an orphan, after all.
With a cautious glance, your eyes met his own. He nodded once as if to urge you closer, and you stumbled his way. Before you knew it? You were out the door, trailing behind him like his shadow.
Of all the people who cared enough to convince your father to let you go to this party tonight? Joel Miller was the last person you expected it to be…
¿to be continued?
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queer-little-demigod · 6 months
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you belong with me - clarisse la rue
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summary she's in love with her best friend.
fic type fluff
pairing clarisse la rue x fem!Poseidon!reader
word count 1.8k
warnings jealous!clarisse, swearing, pining, knives, clarisse threatening people, fluff.
masterlist
dividers from this post of @cafekitsune, check out their account!
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At this point, Clarisse had no clue how the hell she fell for you.
You relationship had started when she'd tried to intimidate you on your first day at camp, and instead of backing down under her fierce as death gaze, you had threatened her at literal knifepoint.
"I've stood up to bullies bigger than you," you'd snapped, your soft e/c blazing with fire as the tip of a dagger kissed the underside of her jaw. “So back off, or I’ll make you regret it.”
While that earned you respect amongst everyone in camp, it earned you respect of every Ares cabin member, too.
Especially Clarisse la Rue.
The scariest girl in camp.
It had started off with her debating on whether or not she would be mean to you, making you her enemy, or befriending you.
She was strong, not stupid, so she chose the latter option.
Which brought you both here, today, three years later.
The spring season had started setting in, flowers were blooming, the sun was pleasant, wind wasn't scarce and it was cool. Sitting under the trees in the woods became a natural pastime for year-round campers like the two of you.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the surrounding trees, casting irregularly shaped shadows on the ground, turning them a deep green on the slightly prickly but comfortable grass.
Clarisse leaned her back against the big tree you both were sitting under, polishing her spearhead, with you in front of her, doing the same for your knives.
The daughter of Ares, while she'd never admit it aloud, was absolutely smitten when it came to you. In fact, this feeling had been lingering in her heart for some time, one which attracted her to you in a definitely non-platonic way.
So here she sat, listening to you talking. Your voice was the only thing she was focused on besides polishing her weapon. It stood out amongst the gentle rustle of the leaves in the trees, the call of a distant bird, the lapping of the lake's water against the edge just past the clearing.
"So, I told Silena that Charlie's in love with her, not her actual dumb blonde of a sister, Sharon," you said, rubbing the polish on the cloth you had in hand, before continuing to polish your left-hand knife. "You know, for a child of Aphrodite, she is remarkably oblivious towards loving advances. Oh, and you know that girl, Kyra, from the Hephaestus cabin? My gods, she has been looking so fine--"
Clarisse stopped listening right then. She knew you were smitten with this girl from the Hephaestus cabin, and by every one of the ever-merciful gods of Olympus, she hated it. She hated how you talked about Kyra, how your eyes lit up when the muscled girl covered with grease so much it was an accessory would glance at you.
She tuned out and stared at you, not noticing the disdainful look on her face.
"Risse, you look like you just smelled a wild centaur," you laughed, putting the cloth down and sheathing your knives again.
Clarisse rolled her eyes and grumbled, "No, I don't like Kyra's vibe."
"Aww, jealous?"
"You wish,"
You were so oblivious. Not only were you unaware that Kyra was a playgirl, but you didn’t notice that Clarisse was smitten with you to the point where it was embarrassing.
For starters she looked at you like you were the world. With adoration, awe, and wonder. She honestly couldn’t stop thinking about you.
She hated how you didn’t notice how her eyes lit up around you, how she was softer with you compared to others, how she let you paint her nails (mostly) without complaint.
You were just too oblivious.
Naturally, that evening, that same evening, she was at the Ares table, talking with her own siblings, while she watched you help Percy out with the rest of the camp’s social structures—something he hadn’t quite figured out yet, even after having gone on a quest.
But the way her blood boiled, as if a furnace had lit up inside her heart, making fire course through her veins, when Kyra came up to you. She saw how flustered you got, saw the way your cheeks reddened when Kyra brushed a hair from your face.
By the gods and her father’s name she wanted to smack that Hephaestus girl into next week…
Meanwhile, you say with Kyra, enjoying the butterflies in your stomach when she touched you, laughed at your nervous rambling’s. But the butterflies suddenly came into light as a warning. What was the likeliness that this affection would last? What was concrete in this interaction? Was it just a playful banter? Or something serious?
So many questions, not enough answers.
But one thing was for certain: Kyra wasn’t the one for you. It took just one interaction for you to understand that.
To understand that Clarisse was right.
But before you could walk away, your hotheaded best friend, seething with anger, jealousy rolling off her in waves, came up to you both and ‘borrowed’ Kyra for a moment.
“What the hell are you doing?” Clarisse asked as she led a very surprised Kyra into the forest. “What exactly do you think you’re doing, playing with Y/n’s feelings like that?”
“Come on,” Kyra laughed, Nerva wearing off a little as her arrogance took over. “She’s a girl, a smitten little girl, who knows she likes a little bit of muscle,”
“Unfortunately she doesn’t know that there’s a snake under that damned muscle,”
“Jealous, Clarisse? Of course you are,”
“What that supposed to mean, punk?”
“You’re so in love with Y/n, it shows. Everyone in camp can tell,”
“Oh is that right? If you know that so well, then you’d better stay the fuck away from her,”
Kyra’s brows shot up. “Is that so? What if I don’t? What if I take her to this very spot, and kiss her, maybe while you watch from the bushes over there?”
Clarisse felt her fists clench, felt her whole body tense up with an adrenaline that came out only during battle.
“What if I break your legs and punch that stupid face in?” She asked, eyes full of the familiar fire that only her opponents saw. “I don’t think Y/n likes the taste of blood.”
She relished the look of panic on Kyra’s face. The trapped-animal stare, the darting irises, searching for a way out, analysing her moves in that second. The tense muscles, clenched jaw, closed fists. All of it was familiar to the child of war.
But how familiar was it to the child of the forge? Not much, probably.
“Stay the fuck away from Y/n, and you and I won’t have any problems, Kyra,” Clarisse said, her voice soft. That made it more dangerous. It was soft like the gentle rain that preceded the flooding thunderstorm—a warning.
Kyra nodded, knowing it was unwise to provoke Clarisse La Rue, especially over a girl everyone in camp knew not to mess with.
But it also meant that Clarisse figured out the depth of her love for you. That it was deeper than the vastest sea, stronger than the biggest tsunami, and more damaging than a hurricane. It was fiercer than fire, more powerful than a blow from her spear, and definitely more dangerous than war.
So she’s decided to flush out her feelings. Get them out before things got worse because she couldn’t possibly find a way to get out of the ‘philia’ situation she had going with you. She wanted ‘eros’, wanted ‘ludus’, and she knew it.
Her catalyst was the mind, she wanted it to be the body., wanted it to be the heart. She wanted you in a way that friends never wanted each other. She wanted you the way Achilles wanted Patroclus, wanted you the way Romeo wanted Juliet, the way Orpheus wanted Eurydice.
She wanted you and only you.
But she could never have that.
So she decided the best way to manage her haywire heart was distance.
But by every one of the gods, big and small, was she wrong.
You found that Kyra didn’t look in your direction ever again, and additionally, found Clarisse avoiding you with nearly psychotic fervour.
Three days. You tolerated it for three days.
Finally you stormed up to Clarisse when she was training. With a swift kick to the back of her knee, you sent her crashing to the ground, disarming her spear from her.
“What did you think you were doing, avoiding me like this?!” You seethed, knife at her throat. “What, was this your idea of punishing me for having Kyra flirt with me?”
Calmly, Clarisse moved you off her like one would brush away a particularly disgruntled cat, and stood up.
“Look, I’m fine, I wasn’t doing anything,” she shrugged, grabbing her spear.
You rolled your eyes. This girl was dumb, stupid, and an absolute useless person when it came to interacting with others.
“I don’t think ignoring me for three straight days can be counted as ‘not doing anything’!” You snapped, annoyed.
Clarisse flinched at your tone.
“Why?!” You asked, following her around as she cleared up the arena. “Why exactly have you been ignoring me, hm?”
She listened patiently to your incessant pestering, going about her business while you looked like you were about to blow a gasket with how mad you were since your hands began to move more animatedly, your frown deepening even more.
“Why the hell did you say that nothing’s wrong when something clearly is?! Are you jealous? Is that it?! Why?!” You asked, expecting her not to reply the way she had been the last ten minutes.
Clarisse had had enough. She was taking the plunge into that deep dark sea, not sure if she was ready to face the monsters in it.
“Because I’m in love with you!” She said, turning around with a terrified look on her face. “I’m in love with you, and I didn’t know what to do about it because you clearly don’t love me back!”
You stood silent for a second too long. But she didn’t run. She stayed there, waiting for your answer.
“You’re in love with me?” You asked, baffled.
No butterflies, nothing fluttered in your stomach, your heart rate merely quickened and your body pulsed in every place with serotonin.
No butterflies meant this wasn’t just a thing, a fling. It wasn’t mindless flirting.
This was ‘ludus’, the love of intimacy, pure love.
“Yes, Y/n, and it kills me every single day, hearing you ramble about Kyra, and you know what I’m thinking when you talk about her like that?” She asked, tears ready to come out of her eyes. “I think that I could treat you like a queen, like you’re above Hera herself. I think that why would you love a playgirl who won’t give a single fuck about your feelings, when I’m here already knowing what you want for breakfast every day of the week! I think that I could be better than her, that I am better than her, in every possible way, but you’re just blind! You don’t see that I look at you like you’re the world because you’re so smitten with a girl who would toss you aside for the next blonde girl she sees!”
You listened to her carefully, taking in her words. In between, neither of you knew when, she had started crying. Small tears rolled down her bronze skin, tracing small pathways in their trail of sadness, of pain.
“I’m sorry,” you replied softly, stepping closer, putting a hand up to wipe her eyes. “I’m sorry that I was blind to how you feel about me, I’m sorry for not noticing it sooner,”
“And Y/n, you’re my best friend, okay? I can’t…I know that we can never be together and…” she stopped short when your hands went up to cup her cheeks.
“Why is that?”
“Philia, Y/n. Friendship love.”
“Who says it can’t progress?”
“You don’t love me back,”
“I do,”
“Friendship love doesn’t count here,”
“Bold of you to assume I’m talking about friendship,”
Clarisse froze.
“I love you too, Clarisse,” you said softly, looking at her in her eyes. “And I’m not talking about ‘philia’. Gods I love you the way Achilles loved Patroclus, the way Romeo loved Juliet, the way Orpheus loved Euridyce,”
“I thought that too,” she whispered, shocked. “How…”
“I know that because these three romances are the ones I’ve read to you,” you replied. “I know you, Clarisse. But I was too blind to see your love went past my mind and extended to my heart, my body, my soul. And I’m sorry for being blind.”
“You belong with me, not her,”
“Do you see me doubting that?”
She giggled softly. Clarisse La Rue, the most feared girl in camp, giggled like a little kid.
“It’s okay, I guess, you little dumbass,” she chuckled. “So…what now?”
“I don’t know, do we kiss?” You asked, confused. “You know I have never kissed a girl before and—“
She silenced you with a finger to your lips.
“Let’s…take it slow? Ease into it?” She asked. “Cause I have never kissed a girl either,”
“Be my girlfriend, though?”
“You thought I’d say no?”
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Hi! It’s me, Lea! I hope you liked this imagine, feel free to request <3
874 notes · View notes
wyvernest · 1 year
Text
midnight cravings
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pairing - miguel o'hara x f!reader
warnings - smut, established relationship, unprotected piv, creampie, missionary
summary - miguel comes home late at night, needing a lot more than just sleep
a/n - i did some research on spanish pillow talk, lmk if anything is off/wrong
You're half asleep.
The room is dark and quiet. Only the cars on the boulevard can be heard in a faint echo as they slow down to turn corners at the nearby intersection, their headlights casting a fleeting flash on the bedroom ceiling.
You tilt your head on your pillow to check the time.
23:57
It's not exactly unusual that Miguel doesn't get home before midnight. His job requires a certain amount of effort, a certain amount of skill, and an equally generous amount of time.
But tonight the bed is colder. Tonight, the bedsheets and pillows fail to offer the warmth only he can provide. You drift off into a pained slumber, hugging his pillow to your chest.
And it feels like it's been seconds, only a blink in the undisturbed ambiance of the night, before your ears pick up a strangely familiar sound.
The window opens, followed by a gentle creak. The first time it happened, you had jumped out of bed in any defence you could've possibly offered yourself, heart racing and hands shaking. But after countless nights, after so many times when your boyfriend entered your apartment the way only he could do it, you've grown accustomed to it. Now, the sound brought a sweet shiver up your spine, a sense of safety and relief.
You only wish you could open your eyes, but before you thought to rise from your position on the bed, you felt the mattress sink under considerable weight. Miguel crawls close to you, settling himself behind you.
His body moulds perfectly against yours, his bare chest pressed up against your back. He moves his hand to brush a few unruly strands of hair out of your face, his fingertips grazing the side of your neck, lingering on the soft skin more than necessary. He presses himself closer and closer into you, and you relish in the feeling of his body heat invading every patch of your skin that comes in contact with him. You hum softly, a sign for him that you're aware he's there, only through the haze of heavy sleep.
His cursory hand starts caressing and touching, running over the line of your waist, swiftly sneaking underneath your shirt and finding your skin. You sigh into the pillow, his ministrations making it hard for you to resume your slumber. He drags his warm and heavy palm over the dip of your middle, reaching the side of your breast. It then retreats lower, back down to your hip, squeezing the flesh of your ass ever so slightly.
He shuffles, bringing his crotch up to the backs of your thighs, and you feel the unmistakable shape of his hard cock, grinding up against you with slow and languid rolls of his hips, as if he’s trying not to stir you from your drowsiness. You feel a familiar pressure grow and bloom between your legs, deciding that sleep is no longer an option for the time being.
Turning your head over your shoulder, you’re met with the face of a man so desperate and needy, you almost have to hold back a moan of both surprise and pride at having him head over heels for you. Your hand snakes around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss so full of want and desire that you both gasp for air in between minutes before diving right back in for more.
With his weight supported on one elbow, his free hand keeps mapping your body with such speed and undeniable craving that you push your thighs together instinctively, aiming to chase a part of the pleasure dripping and pooling into your panties. His arm wraps around your front, holding you in place, as his lips break from the kiss and travel from your flushed cheek, to your jaw, landing on your pulse point. You tilt your head to the side to grant him access to you, as he nibbles over the nape of your neck. He alters between soft, gentle pecks and bold yet careful bites, while his thigh parts yours from behind, pressing hard into your core.
Through crescending moans and mewls, you start rubbing yourself onto his muscular thigh, feeling his hot breath puffing over the sensitive skin of your neck and shoulder. The sharpness of his fangs grazing your pulse alerts you as you begin tugging at his hair with no avail.
He twists you around so that he’s on top of you fully, his mouth travelling down to your shoulder and clavicle. He’s placed himself between your quivering legs, making his intentions known by humping you slowly and steadily, at a pace that allows him to continue his assault upon your chest. His lips find your breasts as he licks and kisses the tender flesh.
Suddenly, he stops, not removing his face from your chest. He pants softly, meeting your half-lidded eyes. He inhales abruptly, and you see his pupils dilate ever so slightly.
“You’re already wet, mi amor.” You feel your face heat up at the remark. “Always so good and ready for me.” He tightens his grip, crushing you into his embrace as his body encompasses yours completely. You feel his cock twitch through the thin fabric of your panties, growing impatient.
“Only for you.” You’re interrupted by a groan as he revels in your confession and promised devotion. “Only you can make me feel this way.”
“Me estás volviendo loco.” (You’re driving me crazy)
In a quick motion, he grips your panties and rips them, the sound sending a rush of adrenaline through your veins. You feel the fat tip of his dick, glistening with precum, teasingly pressing against your aching cunt. He readies himself, bracing his weight on his forearms that now frame your face. His head drops into the crook of your neck, breathing laboured, raising goosebumps all over your skin.
“Let me pound this pussy before I go to sleep.”, his voice is low and rugged with lust, breath hot and deep.
You let out a moan in response, taken aback. You wiggle your hips playfully, feeling the head of his fat dick graze your wet folds. He groans lowly, biting at your neck before soothing the mark with several kisses.
“Por favor, mi vida”, and you nearly come on the spot, the plea ringing in your ears. You’re almost convinced he may have injected you with something. You’re not thinking straight. He could ask anything of you right now and you wouldn’t have the slightest bit of power to say no.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day. Couldn’t get you out of my head.” He insists, as if any more convincing is necessary. It isn’t. He just loves to rile you up, to see you as desperate for him as he is for you before he takes you.
“All I could think of was finally getting home to you. Seeing your pretty face, tasting your lips.” He keeps whispering, pressing hot, open mouth kisses up and down your neck, one of his hands groping your breast.
“Burying myself in you, feeling you clench around me.” More kisses, his cock is aligned with you, rubbing between your folds and twitching every so often.
“Miguel.”
He raises his face to lock eyes with you.
“Fuck me raw.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. He enters you, inch by agonising inch, and as he bottoms out you release a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your arms curl around his shoulders, feeling the rigid muscles of his back as they shift when he starts rolling his hips. You’re completely engulfed in his shadow, and all you can see is him.
Stretched to the limit, you throw your head back into the softness of the pillows as he picks up his pace, jackhammering his cock into the damp warmth of your cunt. His talons dig into the cushion as his face contorts into pure, unfiltered pleasure. You look down to catch the way his abdomen flexes with every thrust he delivers, the way the length of his dick disappears inside you with a wet squelch each time.
He falters for a fraction of a second, eyes rolling back before he changes the angle of his thrusts, finding your sweet spot. You feel your high starting to build up as he maintains his rhythm, grabbing onto his biceps as he drills his heavy cock into you, chasing his climax. You moan out his name, constricting around him, and he groans shamelessly, dropping his face back into the crook of your neck, panting.
“Ay, mierda” he rasps into the shell of your ear, and you bring one hand into his silky, dark hair, pushing him closer into your embrace.
“Está apretadito” (it’s tight), he nearly whimpers at the way you clench around his cock, his lips latching onto your pulse point once again, in an attempt to stifle his moans.
Your whole body quivers at the sound of his groans and muffled curses, as you finally feel yourself on the edge of ecstasy. You close your legs around his waist, wanting to feel him whole.
His pace stutters at the action.
“Inside, ah-, I want you– inside, shit”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, he drives himself into you, hard and fast. Your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, prolonged by his continuous thrusts. All your senses zoom in on him, the smell of him, the sight of his broad frame towering over you as he fucks you, the sound of his breathing and the praises he whispers into your neck.
The bed shakes and creaks under his weight as he comes, filling you with his release. You pulse around him, forcing a strangled moan out of his throat before he collapses on top of you.
You’re floating, even with his whole body dormant upon yours. With a hand, you mindlessly massage his scalp while he returns to his senses. His arms seek to find your waist, effectively wrapping around you in a nearly suffocating hold. But you don’t mind.
“We should get cleaned up.”, he mumbles lowly, muffled by the pillows and your neck altogether. However, you feel his body relax completely, an incontestable sign that he’s already too far gone to get up anymore. You’re well aware of how tired he can be at times and how his love for you had been the only thing providing energy for the past minutes, because otherwise, he would have been out cold by now.
So you hold him, as he holds you, drifting off into well earned, blissful rest.
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just-jordie-things · 8 months
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cherry blossom - inumaki toge
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
word count: 9.3k warnings: shibuya mentions, toge says some words bc i'm not god ok, drinking summary: you've always had all the time in the world to figure out what you were to each other. falling in love is meant to be slow and sweet, after all. more info: friends to lovers, fluff without plot really (yeah i'm making that a thing)
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[ what you don’t tell no one, you can tell me // little ghost, tall, tan like milk and honey // you’re very brave, and very free ]
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Inumaki Toge was very close with all of his friends.  He cherished them in ways he could only dream of vocalizing.  Instead, with his cursed speech, he was limited to smaller forms of appreciation to show them how he cared.  Remembering Yuuta’s favorite drink, punching Maki on the shoulder to tell her she did a great job, passing notes with Panda to pull off a silly prank- his love language was an odd one for sure, but it never went unnoticed.  His friends cared for him just as much.
(y/n) was different, though.
It was no secret to the others- if it had been, it would’ve been a terribly kept one- even without the ability to voice it, it would have been useless to try.  There was no denying the way that he treated her, the way he looked at her, it was unlike all the others.  If she was speaking, his attention was on her, even in a crowded room, even if someone was talking over her, Toge listened to every word, actively engaged in whatever the topic was.
He always sat next to her, always picked her as a training partner, always reached out to her first when making a plan, she lived on the front of his mind rent free, and Toge was more than content to let her.
“Funny, or sad?” She asks him now, drawing him out of his dreamy thoughts and bringing him back to reality.  She’s perched at the end of his bed, two dvd cases in either hand presented to him.  His gaze shifts between the two as he mulls it over.
If he chooses funny, then he’ll get to hear her giggles for the next two hours, followed by her pretty voice repeating all her favorite lines to send her into fits of laughter again.  He likes that option.
But the other movie in her hand is a favorite of hers.  He wouldn’t describe it as sad as she had, but the uplifting message did tug at the heartstrings, and he’s caught her crying over it multiple times in the few years he’s known her.  So he gestures to that one, reveling in the way she lights up before she’s getting off the bed in order to get his dvd player setup.  
It was actually her dvd player, Toge was more of a Netflix guy, but with her collection of movies and the frequency at which she hauled it all over to his room, they’d silently decided to just leave it in his room.  Sure, it might have been easier for them to have movie nights in her room where she didn’t have to unplug the Xbox every time to watch a movie, but Toge would never suggest such a thing, and she’s never brought it up either.  He likes having some of her things in his room.  
For a little while, it could help him feel like they were living a more domestic, normalized life.  Sometimes, he would set up her movies from that week on his shelf in alphabetical order, or fold up the blanket she’d left behind, and he could pretend that things were… different.
“I’ll have to add a box of tissues to the pile” She says, eyeing the plastic bag of snacks that the two of them had just gone out for.  
It was routine at this point, rush out to the convenience store, buy more snacks than they agreed on, and then rush back to campus to get the movie started before it was too late.  These were his favorite days.
With her back turned as she got the dvd player plugged in, Toge clicked his tongue to get her attention.  She glances back at him right away, her curious look blooming into a full, beautiful smile as he raises a little plastic package of tissues, wiggling it in the air happily.
“You’re perfect!” She laughs to herself before going back to the console, placing the disk inside with an eager little dance.  
Toge thinks it’s adorable that she’s so excited to watch a movie that will make her cry.  He could be biased though- he thinks everything she does is adorable.
Once the movie starts, she’s quick to jump back onto the bed, crawling up into the space beside him, snatching up the back of treats on the way.  Toge watches her, it’s only the opening credits playing anyways, it’s not like he was missing anything yet.  (y/n) catches his eye, raising a brow as she tilts the bag towards him.
There’s not exactly a way for him to tell her that his staring was just because he liked when she didn’t tuck her hair back and it fell in that messy way it did, not because he was waiting for his turn with the snack bag.  So he gives her a lopsided smile and takes the offering.
“If you open the chips I want some” (y/n) hums, her eyes already back on the screen as the movie begins.  Toge chuckles, pulling out the green bag of sour cream and onion flavored chips, even though he’d been eyeing the package of chocolate chip cookies.
(y/n) turns to him again, this time with a mock pout on her lips.
“Are you laughing at me?”
It makes him laugh a little more, even as he’s shaking his head to convince her otherwise.  He opens the bag of chips and tilts it towards her as a peace offering.  She gladly accepts it, her frown melting back into her syrupy smile as she snatches a few chips and settles in again to watch the movie.
As expected, she’s tearing up before anything’s really happened yet.  Toge knows she’s already thinking about the real tear-jerking moments later on.  Her emotions sometimes overwhelmed her- not just when watching heartwarming movies, but with handling the everyday things that came with the life of a jujutsu sorcerer.  It was hard when one of her closest friends was sent away on long assignments overseas, it was hard when there were casualties on assignments, it was hard training every day and trying to be better, all the while doubting herself and her abilities.
There were some times that she’d come by and they wouldn’t lounge around watching movies.  Sometimes she’d visit him just to sit quietly and take in the comfort of his presence.  Toge never minded these days.  He was just relieved that there was some way he could help her feel better- although he didn’t always understand what it was that worked.  It’s not like he could talk her down from the bad feelings, all he really did was sit there, maybe hold her hand if she needed, often listening to whatever was on her mind.
“He’s the one that makes me think of you” (y/n) points to the screen when a new character pops up.  A teenager, with shaggy, jet black hair, and a perpetual frown on his face as he’s on screen.
Toge mirrors the frown, turning to (y/n) with furrowed brows as he awaited a proper explanation.  She only giggles to herself as she continues munching on her snack, not bothering to explain how a character who looks and behaves nothing like him could possibly have her making a connection between the two.
He started to wonder if it was time to change his hair again, but as the movie progressed, he began to understand.  The kid had taken a vow of silence, and hadn’t spoken a word the entire movie.  Yet somehow, his thoughts and feelings were portrayed perfectly.  As the viewer, Toge was never left wondering what was going through his head.  Admittedly, he grew attached to this character quickly, and he found his focus latching onto the plot now with fervor.
Noticing this, (y/n) smiled to herself as she tucked herself further into the pile of pillows behind her.  It always warmed her heart to see him take interest in the things she liked.  Maybe even too much.
It’s mostly quiet between them as the movie continues, they don’t like to talk too much during movies, only comments deemed important enough to share before the end, or the ask to pass the snacks.  They usually would have a discussion at the end anyways, sharing all of their thoughts and favorite parts with one another.
Soon enough the couple hours passed, the snacks were mostly deplenished, and (y/n) was half asleep, eagerly asking him how he liked the movie despite the tears in her eyes that she was still wiping away with the half-used supply of tissues.
He nods back at her, chuckling softly at the sight of her still being so teary eyed when the movie had ended ten minutes ago.  Her lip is still wobbly and even as she folds and re-folds the tissue to keep wiping away the trail of tears.
Toge maneuvers onto his side, facing her with a small smile before taking the tissue from her hands.
“Mustard leaf” He says quietly, before reaching back out and drying up the trail of tears that she’d missed, down her cheek, and then along her jaw.  She sniffles between a watery giggle.
“Thank you,” Her voice cracks, and she laughs quietly again.  “That movie is just too much sometimes,” She explains, and Toge hums in understanding.  This wasn’t nearly as bad when they watched Wall-E.  “But I love it, what did you think?” 
“Salmon roe” He replies with a larger beam, which she mirrors right away, before her head feels a little heavier on his pillow.
“Okay, good,” She murmurs before a yawn overtakes her, and Toge’s eyes widen in realization when she tucks the blanket over her shoulders.  She’s going to fall asleep.  He starts to move to shake her awake, one hand curling around her shoulder and tugging slightly, but she doesn’t respond to his silent pleas telling her to get up.  “I’m really glad you liked it, you can pick the movie next time though” 
Toge huffs when she shuts her eyes and nuzzles into the pillow again.  It’s no use.  She’s already drifting off right in front of him.
“Bonito flakes” He mutters.
“It’s alright,” (y/n) yawns again.  “Just wake me up in, like, twenty minutes and I’ll go back to my room so we don’t get in trouble” 
Toge already knows how that’s going to go, but she’s out like a light mere seconds later.  He hasn’t seen anyone fall asleep so quickly.
With another sigh, he turns off the tv and places the remainder of the tissue package on his nightstand along with the remote.  It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep on his back beside her, even when his brain is working overtime trying not to hyperfixate on her leg pressed against his, or her soft breaths fanning over his shoulder as she sleeps.
His dreams are pleasant, with soft swirls of warm colors, sweet sensations of gentle touches and the lingering scent of cherries and vanilla, melodious giggles and whispers made of but sugar coated words.  The kind of dreams that you wake up from and wish there were just a few more minutes to latch onto the remnants of the hazy feeling.
As expected, (y/n’s) still there when he wakes up the following morning- not that he’d tried all too hard to send her back to her own room last night.  He just couldn’t bear to disrupt her peaceful sleep beyond a few whispers of her name and pokes to her forehead.
She’s awake not long after him, but she settles back into the covers, murmuring a raspy good morning to him.  SHe doesn’t seem startled by the surprise sleepover in the slightest, and the nerves Toge had let fester the last ten minutes of sitting awake and waiting for her to wake up.
There were still a few minutes of her being in and out of sleep, but after a while she’s stretching and getting herself out of bed with the promise of grabbing them both pop tarts before they had  to start training for the day.
Toge perks up at the prospect of pop tarts, and she giggles at his obvious change in demeanor, before telling him she’ll be quick, and taking off from his room.
He knows he should be rushing around to get ready for the day, but he can’t  bring himself to get up from the bed just yet.  It’s too warm, too comfortable, too alluring with the lingering scent of cherry vanilla still clinging to the sheets.
His heart feels full as he settles back in for just a few more minutes.
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(y/n) felt love for all of her friends.  She always sort of had, it developed not long after meeting each and every one of them.  She loved Maki’s ambition, Panda’s humor, Yuuta’s passion, each and every one of them were simultaneously the greatest person she’s ever known.  Her friends were her livelihood, her reason for fighting, her reason for trying, she doesn’t think she’d ever be able to repay them for what they’ve done for her.  The love she held for them was the purest kind there was.
The love she held for Inumaki Toge was different, though.
She loved Toge the way she loved late spring, with the way the pretty pink cherry blossoms begin to bloom, and the cool breeze turns warm, and suddenly everything doesn’t seem so gloomy and bitter all the time.  The sun seems to shine a little brighter and everyone seems to feel a little brighter, too.  It was exactly how loving Toge felt.
It was no secret to the others- if it had been, it would’ve been a terribly kept one, seeing as she could barely unglue herself from his side at any time.  If he entered a room, she would rush towards him.  If he came back from an assignment with an injury- no matter if it was life threatening or just a paper thin slice, she was patching him up with the utmost care Shoko’s infirmary could offer.  If Toge wasn’t around, she was texting him everything that was going on to keep him in touch.
There was nothing that brought her peace and joy quite like being around Toge.
She giggles as she tips her cup against her lips, sipping at the remnants of the drink she’d made only fifteen minutes ago.  Yuuta was sure to scold her when she wandered her way into the kitchen for the third time in an hour.
Toge’s laughter follows shortly after hers, although he’s not sure what exactly they’re giggling about, he just can’t help himself once she gets going.
His brows pinch together when he shakes his head, trying to ask her what it is that made her giggle fit erupt in the first place.  Once she’s calmed down enough to realize this, she grabs him by the shoulder.
At first his expression morphs into surprise, his eyes wide as he stares at her closely, before she’s swiveling him suddenly, guiding his eyes to the sight that was cracking her up.
Panda was in the common room, clearly feeling himself as he danced about, all slow twirls and raised arms.  He looks positively ethereal- in that loaded sort of way.
He’s quick to pull out his phone, setting his cup down to use both hands to steady the camera on Panda’s drunken ballet- or, attempt at ballet.  (y/n’s) giggling from beside him would definitely be caught in the video later, but neither of them minded, it only added to the humor of it all.
Maki must’ve noticed what they were up to, as she sneakily made her way over to the pill-shaped speaker, where she turned the volume up a few more notches.  This only excited Panda, who picked up the pace in his dancing.  (y/n) has to smack a hand over her mouth to stifle the cackle that erupts from her throat, but Toge doesn’t match her haste, and his laughter is almost louder than the music itself.
With a gentle smack to his shoulder, (y/n) shoots him a warning look, silently telling him to quiet down before Panda notices their recording.
Of course, Panda’s already noticed, his paws on his hips as he gawks at his so-called friends who were just making fun of him with their less than subtle camera pointed in his direction.
“Laugh it up, at least I’m having fun!” He points an accusatory finger at the two before turning his chin up with a dramatic flair.  Toge rolls his eyes, and just as he’s about to end the video, (y/n’s) face pops up on the camera.
“He’s right!” She says, a bit too loudly for standing right in front of him, but drinking always raised her volume.  She’s setting her cup down then, before reaching her free hand out to Toge, tugging on his wrist and disrupting the video that was still being recorded.  “We should dance!” 
“Mustard leaf!?” He replies, and she laughs, knowing it was his way of repeating ‘dance!?’ With uncertainty and surprise.
Her cheeks are pink, and he can’t make out if it’s because of the alcohol in her system, or if it was the brazen invitation of asking him to dance.  He’s not given much time to decipher it’s cause before she’s pulling harder at his wrist, and without another moment’s hesitation, Toge pockets his phone and follows her silent plea.  Distantly, he realizes she’s never had to work too hard to convince him of anything.
Maybe that was why they were all up far too late drinking together and dancing when they knew damn well that they had training bright and early tomorrow.
Panda’s cheering when (y/n’s) managed to drag Toge all the way into the common room where the music is playing the loudest.  He’s already resumed his twirling as if Fleetwood Mac is playing and not Joan Jett, but he’s enjoying himself, and no one is about to ruin his fun… again.
Toge’s never really danced before, besides the occasional sway from side to side, or a head bop.  So as soon as she starts swinging her hips and dragging his arm back and forth where she’s still got a grip on his wrist, he goes as stiff as a board.
It doesn’t take long before it dawns on her that he hasn’t been dancing, and she frowns at him, pulling at his arm to get him to come closer so she could talk to him.
“Why won’t you dance with me?” She asks, and it breaks his heart so completely that he can’t hide the way his face falls at her question.  (y/n) brightens up immediately, a string of bubbly laughter falling from her lips as she shakes her head.  “It’s not hard, just, move,” She says, shuffling her feet from side to side, her hips following in a languid motion.  “See?” 
He rolls his eyes at her, and she smacks his shoulder with her free hand, her semi-aggressive way of telling him he was making it a bigger deal than necessary, before both of her hands grab at his, and she guides him through the motions more properly.
The song that’s playing is upbeat, so she finds it easy to wave their arms together to the melody, while her hips keep the beat of the bass line.  After a few jolty movements on his part, he eventually begins to mirror, and just as she thought, he gets the hang of it and doesn’t look so awkward dancing with her.
(y/n) can’t wipe her grin off her face as she continues to move their hands about in sporadic motions, sometimes to the beat, sometimes at random.  Toge just latches his hands onto hers and lets her do whatever she pleases.
She’s never had to talk him into doing anything, he was always following her, whatever she was doing.
“See? It’s fun!” She’s the image of gleeful, twirling herself under one of his arms before prompting him to do the same.
Toge manages a few ‘salmon’s between her antics, before she starts to get more energetic with the beginning of the next song.  She claims it’s a classic 2000’s dance beat, and that it would be criminal if they didn’t dance through it, too.
Of course that turned into a third dance, then a fourth, and along with them a few more drinks.  They lose track of time, and eventually the rest of the world seems to fall away, too.  It’s a Wednesday night- well, early Thursday morning now- but all responsibilities that the day will hold is far from their minds.  It’s hard to notice that their friends have even started to wind down.  Panda had collapsed on the floor with a pile of empty water bottles surrounding him, currently chugging down another one.  Maki was scrolling through her phone nursing her own water, physically present, but too tired to engage in any more activities tonight.
And (y/n) and Toge were dancing around, jumping on their feet and twirling each other about like the night was still young and they had all the energy in the world.  Until eventually, Maki had given up on adding anything to the queue, and random songs they’d never heard of were playing, (y/n) still insisted that he stay up with her and keep dancing until they couldn’t anymore.
That was, until Maki retreated to her room for the night, and with her went the music.  (y/n) tried her best to plead with her to stay, but unfortunately Maki wasn’t as suggestable to her puppy dog eyes as Toge was.
“(y/n), listen to me closely,” Maki said in an uncharacteristically sweet voice, even going so far as to run a hand through her drunk friend’s hair.  Thinking that she was going to stay at the ‘party’- if it could still be called that- (y/n) gleamed up at her with a syrupy smile and heavy eyelids.  “Get some water, and get to bed” 
(y/n) deflated immediately.
“Makiiii~” She whined, and made another noise of dissatisfaction when she lost the physical affection, too.
“No buts!” Maki quips as she walks away with her phone and powered down speaker in hand.  “Toge, if you keep her up, then you’re dealing with the consequences tomorrow!” Maki barks at the other culprit to (y/n’s) deluded party-mode state.
“Salmon!” He hollers back, bringing his hand to his forehead in an all too serious salute.  It brings out a load of giggles from (y/n) that has Maki sending one last warning glare at the two before she finally leaves.
Yeah, she absolutely wasn’t dealing with that mess in the mornings.
“She doesn’t hate us,” (y/n) sighs out to Toge, unprovoked, but he can tell she’s completely serious by the way she stares up at him.  “She’s just grumpy she has to get up in the morning” 
Toge raises his eyebrows with slight concern, before twirling his finger around in a short circle between them.
(y/n’s) jaw drops as she gapes at him.
“I know we do too,” She argues.  “But it’ll be fine, I’m used to waking up early” 
He gives her a look, but she doesn’t relent in her stare.  So he pulls his phone out to show her the time.
2:48 A.M.
But her eyes barely register the hour, instead she’s glued to the wallpaper on his lockscreen, and she’s lighting back up with energy as she reaches for his phone and snatches it before he could react.
It was ridiculous how she maintained her speed and strength even when intoxicated.  Toge wondered if it was safe for jujutsu sorcerers to drink this heavily. 
“Is this us?” She asks, even though she was currently admiring the photo of the two of them on his lockscreen.
Toge’s quick to zip up his collar in order to hide the heat flushing his cheeks.
“This is so cute!” She delights in the image, cradling his phone in both hands as though to preserve it with great care.  
The picture isn’t even new to her, and she’d been the one to take it.  A few months ago she’d tried her hand at baking, and had been quite eager to bring a cinnamon cake to a hangout with the rest of their friends.  She might’ve promised it before she was certain of her baking abilities, and had required Toge’s help not long into the process.  As happy as he was to aid her in her new hobby, he couldn’t help but find humor in just how helpless she seemed to be in the kitchen at first.  She hardly even knew her way around the cabinets.  Hours later the cake had turned out just fine- their friends had even gone for seconds- but not without it’s difficulties.
Toge had snapped the photo when the cake had just been put into the oven, before they began the tedious cleanup process.  She had flour in her hair and some stuck to her cheek.  It was a good thing she’d chosen to wear an apron because it was covered in the various ingredients they’d used.  But despite the messy state of herself and the kitchen in the background, she was grinning from ear to ear, clearly excited to see the results of her cake soon.  Toge’s mirroring the smile, although there’s not a speck on him.  After the whole process, he’d managed to keep himself completely clean.
“I didn’t know you made this your wallpaper, that’s really sweet,” She’s handing him his phone back after the torturous few seconds are over, and Toge slips it into his pocket quickly.  His blush might’ve been hidden by the collar of his jacket, but it was still made obvious by his shifting eyes that couldn’t quite meet hers.
“That was a really fun day actually, we should bake something together again sometime!” She lights up, and he can tell that she’s already trying to think of something to go make right now.  It’s clear she’s already forgotten the time- or maybe she just didn’t care that much.  “We could-” 
“Tuna tuna” Toge gives her a look, before tapping the back of his wrist a few times, hoping to remind her of the task at hand.
It was no wonder Maki rushed off to her own dorm.
(y/n) huffed in annoyance, but ultimately followed alongside him as he tried ushering her out of the common room and towards the dorms.  She stumbled along and tried to slow him down, came up with a few more mumbled excuses to stay up later, all of which were met by quiet chuckles and reminders of ‘tuna’.
It took some ping-ponging down the halls, but eventually he got her to her room, and even though the night was over, she seemed rather pleased to be back in her own room.
“Spicy cod roe” Toge barely mumbles the words out as he’s gesturing about her room to her, before raising his hand to his mouth to mimic drinking a cup of water.
She smiles back at him in perfect understanding before she gives him a nod of her head.
Her movements are lazy as she strolls about the room to get changed into something she can sleep in.  Her coordination was less than subpar compared to her usual level of functioning, but that wouldn’t be a problem for another few hours.
It’s not long before there’s a knock on her door, and she’s opening it with the brightness of a christmas tree when Toge is on the other side with two bottles of water.
Wordlessly, she invites him in by stepping aside and pulling the door open further.  Toge passes off one of the bottles to her as he does so.
“Are you staying?” She asked, nodding to the bottle still in his hand.  “We can watch a movie?” She offers hopefully.
It’s a little past three in the morning now.  He tries to give her a look to reminder of this, but she doesn’t seem to care when she sticks her bottom lip out and folds her hands together in a pleading motion.
He sighs, and she brightens up again.  It’s almost comical how small but sweet of a smile could have him agreeing to anything.  It’s almost as if she’s the one with a cursed technique designed to compel, and not him.
While glancing through the array of dvds on her shelves, Toge wonders what things would be like if the roles had been reversed.  If he was the one able to tell her his every thought and feeling as they pass.  He wonders if she would have known how he felt about her a long, long time ago.
He’d dealt with his cursed speech in the best way that he could.  Of course he didn’t love it, of course things would be easier if he could talk like anyone else, he could gamble a good ninety percent of his life would’ve gone smoother.  No more stupid rice ball ingredients, and no more hoping that just a look would be enough to communicate to the girl he loves that he loves her.  That he purely, wholly, desperately loves her.
He picks out a dvd and pops it into her player- she’d dragged it back into her room last week after waking him up in the middle of the night because she was in the mood to watch one of her favorites.  Once the opening credit scenes start to roll, he finds that she’s already cozied up on one side of the bed, her blanket tucked to her chin, and her water bottle cradled in both of her hands.  She smiles when he turns to her, and then pats the space beside her, waiting patiently for him to sit with her.
He lets out a sigh as he sinks into the mattress beside her.  He taps his wrist twice before raising his hand and pinching his thumb and forefinger together, an easy way to gesture just for a little bit.
“Okay,” (y/n) nods, then takes the edge of her blanket to throw it over his lap too.  “Just for a little bit” Her voice is merely a hum, words slurred together just a little bit, but there’s not a flicker of uncertainty in her features when she gazes upon him.
It’s only a few minutes into the movie when she slumps against him, the entire side of her body pressed into his, from their shoulders to their legs.  Toge chuckles as she begins to give in to her exhaustion, and as sweet as it was that she got cuddly when she was drunk and sleepy, he prayed she’d pass out soon so that the morning wouldn’t be so rough.  They were well past getting a full eight hours before training tomorrow, and dealing with Gojo alone would be a burden.  Not because he would go rough on them- but because as soon as he sniffed out a little bit of a hangover, he’d be relentless with his teasing.
(And he might tack on a few extra laps on the track as minor punishment.  Normally no big deal.  But when you’re fighting off puking your guts out?) 
Toge makes a mental note to have aspirin and a heavy meal ready first thing in the mornings so she could get it all out of her system as quickly as possible.  One measly water bottle tonight just wouldn’t cut it.
When her head hits his shoulder in a soft thump, he looks down at her, checking to see if she’s finally fallen asleep.  To his surprise, she tilts her head back in order to meet his gaze.  Pink dusts over her cheeks and the corners of her mouth tilt upwards, no doubt a reaction from the alcohol in her system and their close proximity.
“You think I could get out of training with a sick day tomorrow?” She murmurs, earning a wince from Toge.  She didn’t need words to understand what that meant.  “You’re right,” She sighs, briefly turning her attention back to the movie.  “Gojo’s gonna fry me” 
This time he chuckles, and she glances back at him again.
“Mustard leaf…” 
A small giggle escapes her as well, her eyes crinkling despite knowing the fate she would face come tomorrow.
“Maybe I’ll just fess up straight away,” She thinks aloud.  “If I cry a bit, he might take pity on me, I dunno,” 
Toge struggles to hold eye contact with her, not because the movie was just so enticing he could barely pay attention to her, but quite the opposite.  With her cuddled up against his side and whispering so softly right into his ear he could hardly focus on anything other than her.  To his knowledge, the rest of the world was completely wiped away.  It was an ability she’d somehow mastered unknowingly, making him forget that there was anything else going on around them when the two of them were together.
His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he was sure she must notice, with how close she is, she could probably feel it, but if she does, she doesn’t say a thing.
“Or you could tell him I died,” She adds suddenly, and Toge snorts out a laugh, making her giggle again.  
His eyes finally hold contact with hers for longer than a passing second, and she seems to melt further against him.  She doesn’t feel heavy against his shoulder, but she might as well be an anchor keeping him trapped in place.  
Yeah, there’s not a chance he’ll only be here for a little bit.
“You’d cover for me, right?” She asks, and it’s only meant to be a tease, but Toge raises his free arm that wasn’t being leaned on by hers, and crosses his finger over his heart.  “Wow,” (y/n) gushes in her surprise, eyebrows raised and lips curling into a wider smile.  She’s so beautiful to him at this moment that he now hopes he’ll be the one to pass out before he does something stupid.  “Cross your heart and hope to die, huh?” She muses.  “That’s pretty serious” 
He scoffs again, barely rolling his eyes, but his attention is drawn back to her again when she shifts around to lay on her side.  She’s still very much cuddled up to him, and he can tell she makes an effort to stay that way as she gets comfortable in a new position.  She even hooks her ankle over his, a silent ask for him to stay longer.  Her cheek leans back into his shoulder soon enough, and he knows he should be leaving when she starts to bat her eyelashes, but even as a Grade Two sorcerer he doesn’t have the strength to do so.
“Can I ask you a real question?” 
Everyone’s least favorite question of all time.
Toge affirms with a nod of his head, barely managing a smile to assure her.
“Does it get old?” Her voice grows even softer.  “Listening to me talk all the time?” 
He shakes his head just as quickly, the smile disappearing as a knot forms between his pinched brows.  She gives him a wobbly smile, feeling a bit endeared by how quickly he tried to tell her otherwise.
“Really?” She asks, still a bit unsure.  “Sometimes I try to shut my mouth, I… I don’t want to make you feel like you’re stuck listening to me all the time, but, uh, I can’t help it sometimes.  I… really like talking to you” She’s rambling before she knows it- and then blushing at the irony of it all.
His smile returned then, stretching wide until his teeth were showing, and he was laughing quietly at her.  Not to be malicious, of course, he was simply amused and absolutely lovestruck by the sweet admission.  Toge reached out, affectionately touching the pad of his thumb to her chin, before he shifted around to get his phone out of his pocket.
This didn’t call for rice ball ingredients, or small gestures to convey what he was thinking.  He’d need to communicate properly to her with how much he’d have to say.
(y/n) watched on as he opened his notes app and began to type.
it could never get old.  i like listening to you talk :)
It makes her heart stutter in her chest, but she can’t help the giggle that escapes her when he adds a little emoji, too.  Toge spaces down to a new line before typing more.
does it get old that i can’t talk with you the same way? 
He watches as her eyes scan over the screen quickly, before she turns to him and shakes her head.
“Of course not,” She tells him right away.  “I- I think we understand each other just fine… don’t we?” 
It dawns on her that they’ve never really talked about this before.  Even when they first met, it was like she was told he had cursed speech and she took it upon herself to learn how he communicated as quickly as possible.  Perhaps all that time she spent around him those first few months after her enrollment were what led to their closeness now.  Saying she was headstrong in being able to understand him would have been an understatement.  She had constantly been picking up on the subtleties between his rice ball ingredients, or paying attention to every hand movement or direction of his gaze to know what he was talking about.  
And it was a very, very rare case when she couldn’t understand him.  Toge could hardly recall a time it had happened.
He sets his phone down on his lap, nodding his head back at her as his eyes shifted between hers.  Her lashes hung heavy, eyelids almost falling shut with every blink, but she wasn’t giving into sleep just yet.
She mirrors his nod with a short one of her own, her eyes filled with an emotion he can’t say he’s ever seen in her before.  He studies it curiously, forgetting any sense of embarrassment from staring at her so blatantly… but then again, she wasn’t exactly shying away either.  Was it the alcohol?
“Toge,” His name falls from her lips in a mere breath, so small her mouth hardly moves, so quiet it almost doesn’t grace his ears.  “I… I hope you know you can tell me anything… anytime…” 
It’s such a sweet admission that he can’t help but reach out to her again, his thumb touching her chin in the way he usually does when he’s teasing her, but now it feels… different.  His touch lingers, and the look in his eyes feels heavier than she’s used to.  She’s flustering suddenly, her heartbeat picking up in pace, her face feeling even hotter the longer she holds his stare.  After another prolonged minute of his touch to her face, she finds herself reaching up for his hand, cupping the back of it and holding it there for just a few moments longer.
And then comes a delicate, carefully worded whisper on his part.
“I know” 
He pauses for a few seconds after he says it, just to be sure there were no lasting effects left on her.  Just as he expected, those words didn’t seem to hold any cursed energy, and she didn’t seem paralyzed or compelled in the slightest.  She simply smiles back at him, her eyelashes batting a few more times.
“Okay, good,” She murmurs, before tucking herself closer to him, nuzzling her head into his chest to get comfortable.  
She’s long forgotten the movie that was playing, and honestly, so had he.  Toge knows now it’s only a matter of minutes before she’s finally knocked out.  With a yawn, she finally drops her hand from his, but Toge opts to leave it in it’s place, carefully cradled under her jaw, his thumb swiping over her cheekbone in slow and lazy movements.
“Just stay the night, ‘kay?” She mumbles into his shirt, throwing her free arm over his waist.  “If someone notices, I’ll take the blame,” She says, and then quickly adds, “But no one will” 
His chest vibrates beneath her when he chuckles, and she merely smiled to herself as sleep finally overcomes her.
Toge hesitates on moving to turn off the tv.  Any one wrong move and he’d risk waking her, and he certainly didn’t want to do that.  So with drawn out movements, he carefully gets the tv turned off, and places the remote on the nightstand.
(y/n) doesn’t wake up, to his luck, she doesn’t even stir.  She’s sound asleep, dead weight like a rock on top of him.  But a welcome rock she was.
He didn’t even mind having to sleep in a half seated position, or the fact that the arm she’s laying on is starting to prickle with pins and needles.  None of it matters when he can faintly feel her heart beating against his chest, right beside his.
Toge only got a hair of sleep that night, but even during the rough training session the following morning, all he could think about was how soft her hair felt when he’d run his hand through it.
If what came after falling in love was a crash landing, he was definitely nearing the ground.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
When he first comes to, all Toge can barely make out is the dim light above him.  His mind is hazy, a swarm of disconnected thoughts like ‘where am I?’ and ‘why are the lights so dim in Shoko’s infirmary?’.  Nothing really makes sense until the haze begins to clear.
The next sense to come back was his hearing, and he wished it had taken a little longer because it wasn’t pleasant.
At first it’s just a sharp ringing, distant at first, like someone blowing a whistle far away from here.  But it didn’t take long for it to grow nearer and nearer, until eventually it was right in front of him, breaking through to let him take in the other sounds around him.
Whimpering.  Soft weeping, maybe.  Quiet, like the owner of the quiet cries, was trying not to wake him.
Then it was sniffling, also quiet and contained.  So faint he could just barely make it out, but paired with the cries, it wasn’t hard to understand what was going on.
He has to squeeze his eyes shut after the short exposure to the yellow light, but soon enough he’s forcing them open again.  This time he’s greeted with the blurry silhouette of the crier.
“(y/n)-” 
It’s no surprise his throat is so dry and raw that he feels blood pool on his tongue as soon as he rasps out her name, but it was enough to capture her attention, so he tries to ignore the pain for now.
A hushed “Ohmygod” is whispered under her breath so fast her lips barely move, before she’s a blurry mess of movements above him.  His eyes can’t track everything, but he thinks her hands are shaking around his face from the tapping over her fingertips on his cheeks.  “You’re- you’re awake?” She mumbles out, a hint of a whimper still trembling in her voice.
Just as he parts his lips to give her an affirmative response, her eyes widen, and her fingertips press further into his cheeks until he can feel the full length of her fingers against his skin.  They’re still shaking, but her touch is warm.
“Wait, don’t say anything, I’m sure your throat’s a mess right now,” Even when she’s not sniffling over her words, they’re watery, just a little bit stuck in her throat.  “But you’re- you’re awake,” She repeats, a smile briefly stretching on her lips, before it quickly falls back into that wobbly frown.  His vision begins to focus when he settles it there, hoping it’ll disappear into another smile again.
Why was she such a wreck? She’d never cried over him before, and he’s been injured plenty of times, Toge couldn’t wrap his mind around it.  It was making it harder to fight past the hazy state of waking up.  
There were small, wet splashes against his face that startled him enough to change his focus, eyes suddenly moving his line of sight upwards, finding her eyes were in fact full of tears, and most of them were streaming down her face.  He can’t say or do much, but concern is evident on his face.
“Are you in pain? Does anything hurt?” She wipes uselessly at the tears on her face when she speaks.  The dry patches were just as quickly replaced by more streaks of tears.
Toge shakes his head, although it’s not a complete truth.  His head is still spinning, the metallic taste of blood was burning the scratches in his throat, but most peculiar was the dull ache of his left arm.  It wasn’t a sharp pain, or even enough to bring a tear to his eye, and yet the throbbing of it captured all of his attention.  He couldn’t not think about it.  Was it broken? Why hadn’t Shoko healed it? It never feels like this after her Reverse Cursed Technique…
“Okay,” (y/n) whimpers, sniffling before she speaks again.  “Okay, that- that’s good, that’s good…” Her voice grows quiet, and Toge’s shaking his head at her again, trying to voice his confusion with this whole ordeal, trying to ask her what was wrong.
All he can do is twitch his right hand until she notices, and as soon as she turns her head, she picks his hand up in both of hers.  She’s swift but gentle, cradling it as if his bones would shatter from a movement too rough.  He tries to curl his fingers around hers, but it takes too much effort, so he goes to bring his other hand around hers as well.
A strained gasp escapes him when he lifts his left arm, his eyes shooting open from the pain and difficulty of the action, neck swiveling to see what was so wrong that he couldn’t do something so simple as to hold her hand and comfort her.
They’re both frozen when he finally looks at his left arm.  Or, lack thereof.
(y/n’s) crying seems to cease completely as she holds her breath, and Toge’s chest is moving rapidly, but his inhales and exhales are nearly silent.
When he looks up at her again, she brings a hand to her mouth, stifling the sob that shakes her entire body as she begins to cry again, just as hard as she had when she’d found him.
“I��m- I’m sorry,” Is what she says first, it’s all that really comes to mind at first, she doesn’t know where to begin, how she’s supposed to explain it to him, what the gentle way of proceeding was.
She almost wished someone was here now, but there wasn’t.  There was no one.  Everyone was either missing, or had died in the aftermath, there was only the two of them.  The world had shrunk down to leave just the two of them it seemed- and they weren’t allowed their peace.
“Shibuya- it’s- when I found you-” She tries, she really does, but so many words flood her mind at once that they get lodged in her throat, and she’s never really learned how to navigate this sort of thing before.  This was always Gojo’s job, or Nanami’s…
With a deep breath, (y/n) straightens her posture as she’s kneeled beside Toge on the ground, and she gives his hand a small squeeze.
“Without a Reversed Curse Technique, I did the best that I could,” She says, a little bit more clearly, but not without a few hiccups.  “The runes on the wrappings should keep it from getting infected, at the very least,” 
Toge looks back at his left side again, taking in a long, good look at the missing space where the rest of his arm used to be.  Then his gaze shifts upwards, where what’s left of his bicep is wrapped in perfect bindings.  It appears every inch of the gauze is covered in neatly drawn runes.
How long had this taken her? How long had he been out? 
“It’s been a couple of days,” She sighs, pushing a hand through her hair and slouching again.  “It’s not… great, as you can see,” She adds, gesturing around them.
It’s only then that Toge’s really taken in their surroundings.  They’re in a tent, that’s just big enough for the two of them.  The shitty light his eyes had adjusted to was just a lantern tied around the center post.
“But it’s worked for now… I’ve been out a few times, there’s water, um, some food…” She trails off as she’s glancing around, already losing pace and barely keeping up with what she’s saying.  What was she supposed to say? “I… I haven’t crossed paths with anyone else yet” 
Toge’s hand twitches in hers, fingers flexing for a moment before he pulls it out of her hold.  It’s slow and shaky when he brings his hand to her face, but he is able to make the reach.  She leans closer to him so he wouldn’t have to stretch too much.  Toge presses the entirety of his palm into her cheek, fingertips prodding at her hairline, thumb tracing against her cheekbone.
That wobbly smile returns when she presses her palm against the back of his hand.  She’s still crying, but it seems a little more under control.  He wonders if she’s even aware of the never ending tears, or if she’s grown used to it.
“Thank you” 
A watery scoff of a laugh escapes her, and then she shakes her head at him.
“You shouldn’t be thanking me,” She mumbles, and his thumb begins to drag lower, across the hollow of her cheek, coming to the corner of her mouth.
He nods his head to make his argument, a furrow in his brows that tells her he’s serious, but she doesn’t seem to take him as such.
“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” She sniffles.  “There’s barely any food, I’ve been in this ruined uniform for days, all of our friends are missing and the strongest sorcerer in the world is in the prison realm, you’re hurt, and it very well may be the end of the world-” 
He has to drop his hand from her face in order to have the strength to push himself into a sitting position, but once he does he’s just as quick to bring it back.
She’s crying too much to keep adding to her list of everything that’s gone wrong in the last few days, but this time Toge tries to wipe the tears away as he shushes her softly.  It takes a few minutes, but eventually the tears come to a stop, and Toge drops his hand again.
This time he makes a gesture to her.  It’s drawn out, despite it being a simple one.  He points his finger out, touching it to her collarbone, then his eyes meet hers again, and they’re tearing up again.  He frowns.  Then taps her shirt a few more times, trying to make his point clearer.
You’re still here.
He can only hope that more taps will make sense to her.
The corner of (y/n’s) lips tilt upwards, and he thinks with the amount of emotions flickering behind her eyes, that understanding is amongst them.
“I’m glad you’re here… with me,” She mumbles out.  “I don’t know what I would’ve done….” The thought trails off with her words, and she turns her head away, chewing on the inside of her cheek.  The exhale she lets out instead is slow, and shaky.
Toge lifts his hand to turn her chin back towards him, a frown on his face as his eyes meet hers.
Again, he points at her, but this time he presses the pad of his finger square against her chin, and then turns it towards himself, mirroring the touch to his own chin.  A crease forms between her brows, and he repeats it- tapping her chin twice with a featherlight touch, and then his own.
We’re both still here.
Weakly, another smile graced her lips.  She understood.
“Whatever is next, we take on together… yeah?” She asks him, her voice hushed, a certain anxiety filling her chest with a crawling feeling, but Toge’s response couldn’t have eased it away faster.
He nods, leaning in closer, bringing his hand back to her cheek so he could tilt her head downward just the slightest, enough for him to brush his lips over her forehead in a light kiss.  So light if she wasn’t staring at him with wide eyes, she might’ve missed it altogether.
Like a deer caught in headlights, she holds her stare even once Toge’s pulled away.  Her parted lips holding no definitive emotion, he’s not exactly sure what she’s thinking when she stares at him like that, but he doesn’t feel any regret from the action.  They were all they had now, and there might not be any amount of comfort to delude them into thinking things were going to turn out perfectly fine, but they could certainly try.  Perhaps they could go just a few minutes at a time feeling some relief.
They weren’t alone.  And despite it all, they were alive.  At this moment anyways, Toge couldn’t ask for more.
With the backs of her hands, (y/n) roughly wipes away the lingering tears on her face, before she reaches out to him.  Just as her hands cradle around his face, he’s meeting her halfway, eyes shut before their lips even touch.
As hasty as it is, it’s a tender kiss.  Neither one of them wanted to move too fast at the risk of bumping an injury, but the years of pent up emotions came pouring out of it nonetheless.  Her calloused and bruised hands somehow feel silky smooth when they glide over his jaw.  Any fears or pains melt away under the gift of her soft kiss.  Toge could almost forget all of it, just for that moment.
When she pulls away, quietly panting to catch her breath after holding it the entirety of the kiss, the unreadable look on her face fades away into something else.  Bittersweet relief.
Her eyes shift between his, finding the same emotion in them that she’s currently feeling.  Affectionately, her thumbs trace over the markings on either side of his mouth.  There’s a moment of silence between them as they bask in the first pleasant moment they’d had in a while.  It’s no surprise that it’s only come when they’re together.
“We’ll find the others,” (y/n) murmurs assuredly after a minute.  “We’ll figure it out,” And as she says it, she starts to believe it, slowly but surely she pulls herself out of her cynicism, hope and certainty replacing it when she looks at him.  “Together” 
His own hand slides across her cheek and wraps comfortably at the nape of her neck, holding her delicately but closely.  Toge nods, smiling back at her with as much conviction as he could.
“Together” 
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
[ it’s a cruel, cruel world, but we don’t care // cause what we’ve got, we’ve got to share ]
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
xoxo ~ jordie a/n: for anyone who got the little miss sunshine edit mwah mwah mwah bc it's a comfort movie of mine &lt;3
614 notes · View notes
afewproblems · 9 months
Text
The Holiday Party had gone quite smoothly, more than he was expecting if Steve was being honest with himself.
Until about halfway through, but that was pretty par for the course.
Jonathan had unearthed an old Rummoli Board from a box labeled 'Basement Misc', the Byers were still in the middle of unpacking from their move back to Hawkins, and brought it alongside a bottle of wine that Nancy had managed to smuggle from the Wheelers liquor cabinet.
Robin, who rode with Eddie and Argyle, brought pizza, the only copy of It's A Wonderful Life from Family Video, and way too much weed for just the six of them.
"It isn't a party without a little Kush Stevie," Eddie had told him, clapping his warm hand on Steve's shoulder, his thumb just high enough to rest on bare skin above the collar of his sweater.
All Steve could do was roll his eyes and take the pizzas, quickly ducking into the kitchen before Robin or, God Forbid, Eddie could comment on the pink flush that had taken over his face at the new nickname.
Robin had been insisting that Steve just tell Eddie how he felt for the last few weeks. Rip the bandaid off and come clean. What was the worst that could happen?
Which, really Robin?
Steve knows exactly what happens when someone puts themselves out there only for the other person to not feel the same way. His whole argument was currently sitting in his living room for fucks sake.
Sure, Steve and Nancy were on better terms now, but it also took two years to get there, and even still, there was a weird tension when they found themselves alone together.
So, no, telling Eddie was not an option, Robin.
Steve could keep it together. He could deal with the ache in his chest at the sight of Eddie's smile. Steve could deal with the way his heart beat quickened whenever Eddie said his name. He could deal with the heady flush that bloomed every time Eddie touched him.
He was fine, it was fine.
And, movie nights like these were nothing new in the wake of Vecnas defeat and the destruction of the Upside Down. Steve needed to keep it together if he wanted to continue to have this. Nights without the kids to look after or the adults to hide their indulgences from, these were the nights where they could truly relax.
These were Steve's favourite, and he was not going to let some Bullshit feelings stand in the way of being able to see Eddie.
This Christmas Eve found the six of them lounging on pillows and extra couch cushions from the basement to make the 'best movie watching set-up thank you very much', according to Robin, and watching It's a Wonderful Life for the umpteenth time.
"I can't believe that George Bailey would wish for something like that, when it's so obvious that people care about him," Robin scoffs at the top of her voice about halfway through the movie, prompting a irritated Shush from Nancy.
"That bro is depressed man, it's like a cry for help, and on Christmas, this shit is heavy dude," Argyle hums, lifting his fist up to Robin who shakes it with a wild grin. The two erupt into violent giggles which begin to creep into Steve and Eddie and eventually Jonathan as well. Nancy rolls her eyes but can't help the smile that takes over her face as well.
"Who would wish to never be born when you could just wish for the bank to like, not fuck you over, seems like a waste of a wish if you ask me," Eddie says as the last traces of giggles begin to finally disapate.
"Ooo, Eddie's right!" Robin says as she reaches for the remote, hitting pause on the movie. She waves her hands through the chorus of groans from everyone except Eddie who turns around to Steve with an incredulous expression on his face.
Steve shrugs as Robin continues, unable to look away from those large brown eyes until a hand darts out to smack him in the chest.
"Steve, pay attention," Robin huffs, "let's go around and share what we would wish for!"
Oh shit.
Steve turns on the couch to fully face Robin with narrowed eyes. She grins at him, lifting a single eyebrow as her blue eyes dart between Eddie and Steve.
Steve opens his mouth to argue, to insist that they just carry on with the movie, only for Eddie to drum his hands against his knees and speak.
"Oh birdie, I'm way ahead of you, this is Wayne's favorite Christmas movie so I've done a lot of thinking 'bout this".
Eddie clears his throat and lifts his hands from his knees now as though he's about to launch into a story for Hellfire, "I would personally wish for the money to be able to fund Corroded Coffin full time, get a demo done, and then be able to kiss this fucking one horse town good bye!"
Steve feels the words hit him like a bucket of cold water.
Eddie wants to leave Hawkins.
His wish, his dream, for forever from the sounds of it, is to leave them all behind.
To leave Steve behind.
The voices from the group, pitched high and low, all blend together into one as the rest of the group share their own wishes.
Steve absently feels a small hand grip his own, he looks up to see Robin staring at him, a worried frown pinched between her eyebrows. He answers her silent question with a shake of his head.
It was fine, he was fine. This was a good thing, better to know now than later when Eddie would inevitably leave him behind.
"Stevie?"
Steve startles as a ringed hand waves precariously close to his face. Eddie smiles faintly at him, one dimple on display as he speaks again.
"Kinda lost you for a second there, what about your wish?"
"Oh," he manages to say with a slight laugh in his voice, even as his brain fills with static, "um, I haven't ever really thought about it, maybe some new music or something".
Nancy and Jonathan both boo loudly from the love seat while Argyle nods with a hazy smile.
"Right on my man, sounds like Eddie'll be able to help when his band makes it big," he says before turning back to the television and slumping even more heavily into the couch.
Steve forces out another bright laugh, ignoring how much it burns his throat and crushes his chest. The only thing keeping him in his seat is the firm hold of Robin's hand on his own.
He doesn't look at Eddie as he leans forward to press play on the movie once more, letting the music and dialogue fill the room once more.
Later, as the end of the credits roll and the tape switches back to static, Nance and Jonathan are fast asleep. The pair are cuddled up on the love seat, their heads leaning against one another. It would almost be cute if not for the pang of envy that fills Steve at the sight.
Steve tries to bask in the warmth of having Robin cuddled into his side, knowing it will alleviate at least some of the ache in his chest. Robins eyes have been steadily growing heavier as she slowly falls further and further into Steves side. He smiles, reaching up to brush her hair away from her face.
At least he has Robin, and maybe for now that is enough.
***
This is a part one, let me know if anyone would like a part Two?
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3nlivenning · 5 months
Note
Omg I'm happy you're doing Franics one-shot how can I milkman like him be so attractive ( JK love him too )
May I request
The reader ( female being a florist and always brining flowers to Francis everytime he delivers milk but the reader also hides because she's embarrassed about one day he'll know the flowers is from her. Maybe some spice when Francis finally encounters reader and makes her fill the needs she had for him?
Very optional
Thank you so much 💗^^
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x. confessions, confessions
pairing : Francis Mosses x Fem!Reader
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
FLUFF
“Must say the flowers are blooming vibrantly this spring.”
Francis appreciatively yet flatly commented as he looked at the pots of flowers that brightened up your porch, adoration seen through his eyes. He always looked forward to delivering her milk just to end up becoming fixated at the bright blossoms. His head turned, the bags under his eyes looked subtly darker than last time when you looked back. You could only feel your heart warming and thumping against your rib cages at his compliment. As simple as it sounded, it fueled your motivation to garden more.
“Thank you kindly, I have always loved gardening after all.”
You replied in a light tone, a small grin curling into your lips before he returned the gesture. The corners of his mouth curling in a gentle smile before he then handed the small wooden crate of cold, milk-filled bottles.
“Here you are, Ms. [l/n], it’s a pleasure to chat with you.”
Ever since that interaction you didn’t deny the sudden attraction you developed towards the neighborhood’s milkman. You always looked forward to his deliveries in the morning, finding excuses and tasks to be out on your porch so you or he could initiate a small talk between the both of you. Often times you were the one to start the conversations, whether it's about something small like how each other’s mornings are going, or her flowers. Nothing a bit too personal.  As time passed, the attraction toward the milkman deepened. Each new day brought with it a growing desire to connect with him. The mornings found you in your garden, carefully selecting the freshest blooms. Throughout the day, you tended to these delicate flowers, ensuring they remained pristine and free from any imperfections. As evening descended, you carefully removed any bruised petals or damaged stems, making sure it was perfect in order to catch his eye before you began arranging the flowers into a small arrangement.   The first time you attempted this, you were mostly anxious when it came to handing it to him. Thankfully the apartment units weren’t quite crowded. To be fair, there was only one apartment unit and a small number of residents living inside. Arriving upon his doorstep, with the vibrant bouquet of fresh blossoms from your garden in one arm, your free hand shakily reached the doorbell beside his door. Your stomach fluttered within your body, a sudden rush of trepidation washed over your body. What if he turned you down? Would he really be harsh on you? Doubts lingered in your mind, pressuring you into backing away. Maybe you were being too fast, perhaps?
The decision was soon made, you chose to back down from your initial plan. A disappointed sigh escaped your lungs before you bent down to place the arrangement on his doorstep. Giving it one last glance, praying that he could take the hint and perhaps reciprocate the fondness she had felt since their first interaction.
Days have soon passed and it has been a couple months after you first dropped off the first bouquet you made for him. It has started to become a bi-weekly routine. She picks the freshest flowers in her garden out in her backyard, experiments with the different colors and which flower went well with the other. You couldn't forget the foliage as well. Mixing a good variety of eucalyptus, fern and other kinds of greenery that enhanced each bouquet's visual appeal.
Soon you heard the familiar rhythm of the milkman’s knock against your door. Indicating he arrived for your weekly milk delivery. You quickly hurried in your bedroom. Hastily touching up the last bits of your skin prep and makeup before opening the door, greeted by Francis with a subtle yet warm smile in his lips.
“Mmmm, mornin’ ms. [l/n]” He hummed out whilst handing the small crate of milk to her. Replacing the old and empty ones from the last delivery. You gleefully grinned back, your heart pounding from the interaction currently happening between the both of you.
“Say, these flowers sure look awfully familiar to the ones I keep seeing by my door.” Francis blurted out once his tired eyes caught onto the rose bushes and pots of various flowers. Suspicion raising within him as he slowly caught onto the hints before he turned his head again. You could see his fatigue in his eyes melt away just a little bit. His temperature rising slightly, same to you as well right after it seemed like he figured it out. How long did it take for that lightbulb to finally flicker in his head?
You gave a sheepish chuckle, a bit tongue-tied. You weren’t quite sure what to reply with or react to that. “What makes you think I was the culprit?” You try to scoff, appearing more offended but the subtle red hue that danced on your cheeks said something else.
“I don’t think I mentioned anything about accusing you of leaving them behind.” His chuckle was low and deep. Before you could respond your hand soon met his as he took it. His palms were rough and calloused from years of work. Gently bringing your knuckles up to his lips, he gave a light kiss before pulling away with a grin. “Although, I’m not complaining.” Heart rates soared at that point, meeting his gaze once more.
He cupped your chin right after, pulling you closely until your chest was right against his. Neighbors be damned, he could care less if they saw. Breaths mingled once noses brushed. Both of your temperatures rising further before your lips met in a slow yet heated kiss. Francis’s hand gently cupped your cheek while your hand rested on top of his. Clearing any doubts by reassuring you with a simple gesture of affection.
To what felt like hours, you both pulled away. Heavily breathing to cool yourselves down before Francis started. “How about I come over in an hour after my shift?” He whispered against your ear before he smiled and walked back to his truck. Leaving you all flustered yet relieved.
Waving goodbye, you quickly went back inside your home to prepare yourself. Blood rushing with excitement while you got ready for the eventful night.
*snores*
272 notes · View notes
saintbarou · 1 year
Text
𝐌𝚬𝐋𝐓
tags: diluc birthday fic - fem reader, size difference, accidental creampie, temperature play, possessiveness, established relationship, the first time being intimate, marking, knight of favonius and cryo vision wielder reader. 6.k
synopsis: 𝐖𝐇𝚬𝐍 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝚶 𝐌𝚬𝚬𝐓𝐒 𝐏𝐘𝐑𝚶, 𝐌𝚬𝐋𝐓 𝚶𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒.
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You regret taking upon this assignment - more like a favor. The next time you see the blonde alchemist, you will freeze over all his ink pots. A small revenge for the suffering he put you through to head to his camp on Dragonspine for research notes he left behind. You sigh, tucking away the wind glider that you had used to descend the mountain, and think back to why you were sent - Klee is currently sick and has monopolized Albedo’s efforts, and you have always been weak to help the needy so you had readily agreed to the errand despite the blistering cold of the haunted mountain.
It seems your time under the tutelage of the Acting Grand Master has done you more harm than good.
Misfortune smiles upon you as you walk down the path that veers off the snowy side of the mountain, to the small river that leads onto the familiar view of tall grass and proud trees that decorate the land of the Anemo Archon. You are still shivering, and there is still some powdery snow on your hair that melts in the presence of the sun but as soon as you blink the sky darkens. You feel a small drip on the top of your head, and your shoulders drop in defeat as the scent of wet earth fills your nose and the sky is bloated black by the clouds - rainfall.
Just your luck, huh?
Your breath still mists over your lips and you shudder - fresh off the mountain and now getting soaked through by the rain a fog settles over your vision and you curse at how it blurs the sights together. Sucking on your teeth you ponder your options, it would be dangerous to use your wind glider now - you can’t see well, the mist of the mountain and the rain clouding what you can perceive even with your goggles. All you do is sigh and tug on your bootstraps, you are going to have to climb down the mountain.
It was easier than you expected if you discount the chattering of your teeth and the loss of feeling in your fingers despite your gloves. As you jump, climb, and trudge down the woods of Mondstadt you fail to notice that you have gone too far to the left of your map, and as you can begin to see the telltale sign of small, modest houses and crystal flies among grape vines; there is a flush that blooms across your face that isn’t from the nipping cold.
You’ve taken a big veer to the left and found yourself at Dawn Winery, subconsciously and purely by coincidence of course. A certain redhead flashes in your mind’s eye and you groan, bringing a hand up to your face in embarrassment. Even during your duties as a knight, your heart still leads you to the man you’ve recently started to court after having a harmless crush on him since his time in the Knights at the tender age of 14.
Lightning flashes, thunder booms, and the wind picks up whipping the hood of your outerwear back, you are so caught off guard you take a misstep sliding down the rocky side of the natural f formations of the mountain until you land at the base of the evergreen trees that reside on the paths that lead to the front door of the manor. It’s almost as if the Anemo Archon was pushing you toward the front door of the man you have loved since childhood. Picking yourself up, you swipe at the mud that mars your sleeves and trudge your way up the first paths that have turned into a mush of mud and rainwater. Arriving at the door you use the knocker, beating on the dark wood once and twice. You don’t have to wait for long when you see the familiar face of the head maid Adelinde, her blonde hair shines in the light of the lamp she holds in her hand. You wave timidly when she gasps your name, worry painting her face as she pulls you inside.
She’s rather strong for a maid, you think amused.
“What in the name of Barbatos were you doing out there?” She asks, lighting the fireplace in the drawing room and taking your outerwear away from you. You wince at how it drips onto the expensive wood flooring and how mud stains her sleeves. Your hair drips down your neck and you shiver, she hands you a towel - kept in the cabinet near the fireplace for emergencies at the table that is first seen when you enter through the front doors of the winery. She drags you to one of the fine chairs in front of the fire.
Before you could answer, a deep masculine voice rings from upstairs, calling out for Adelinde. Steps can be heard on the polished wood and you nervously tuck a stray hair behind your as the all too familiar scent of smokey wood and lampgrass fills your senses.
“Master Diluc, it seems we are having a special guest stay with us for the night.” The head maid says eyes flickering between the two of you as you squawk from your place in the chair. Diluc turns the corner, red eyes wide when he sees you, soaked through and shivering like a stray left in the rain. With the speed you’ve seen him exhibit in battle, he is by your side, his hand outreached to touch you before he freezes and drops his hand, still gloved by his side. Touching you so early into your budding relationship wouldn’t be proper -  and Diluc is nothing but a gentleman first and foremost.
“What happened?” He unknowingly parrots Adeline from before and you shudder before answering him, tentatively looking up at his eyes that flicker like the flames in the fireplace.
“Master Albedo asked me to retrieve research notes he left on the mountains.” You confess and wince at the scoff that leaves your lover and quickly fill him in as to why you went,
“Klee is ill so Albedo couldn’t go - I agreed to go.”Your stammer, feeling hot as the stern look on his handsome face fades to worry, you can still catch a subtle “The Knights are incompetent as ever.”
“You still shouldn’t have been sent alone.” Diluc murmurs, eyes flicking away to the flames in the fireplace. He sighs and goes to remove a red palmed glove, you watch the small action with wide eyes and swallow when you see his hands - pale and scarred, faint red hair glows in the low light of the fire and he says your name softly.
“May I touch you? I can use my vision to warm you.” You nod, wetting your lips as his hand comes to rest on the side of your face, warm and gentle in the way his palm molds to hold the weight of your cheek - red eyes glint pleased by how your shoulders drop and your eyes flutter shut by the comfort his body heat gives you. He smiles, cheeks tinged pink when he hears the small sigh that you puff out.
“I’ll have Adeline run you a bath and set some clothes for you. Have you eaten yet?” Your eyes, cloudy and relaxed, meet his eyes and he feels his heart might burst at how you look at him so trustingly - you shake your head to show that no, you haven’t eaten yet. 
“Some supper will be served for you then.” You think it’s from your long exposure to the elements but you usually would stammer and sputter at such treatment - telling him that he’s spoiling you too much but now you relax like the cat in the sun into the palm of his hand and let him do as he pleases.
“Send her to my quarters after her bath. We’ll eat there.” He instructs, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb into your cheek. Diluc’s blush darkens at the soft sound you make when he releases his hold on your face, he steps closer and your mind clouds as he becomes your world. He settles before you, tucking a stray hair from your face as he takes in your tattered form,
“It appears I’ll have to exchange some words with the Chief Alchemist. I can’t have him sending my love away on such dangerous tasks.” You wince at his words but your heart softens at the worry in his voice and the pet name he regards you with. Clearing your throat you try to soothe him,
“It’s alright Master Diluc - I should have been wiser and not agreed given the circumstances, the mountain has always been dangerous,” Your rambling is cut off by another pleased sound you make. He had momentarily moved away to remove the other remaining glove and pressed his now free hand to your forehead. Warm and dry, you feel the callouses from wielding the claymore against your skin but you could sigh at the touch. The hair there is still wet and you can feel how he gently tucks away the damp strands as he slowly increases the temperature on his hands to keep warming you up.
 “It’s only Diluc when you refer to me, dearest.” He rumbles from his position in front of you - something sweet in his smile as he recounts a fond childhood memory.
“My mother would refer to my father as Master Crepus when she was cross with him so,” Red eyes as warm as the embers in the fireplace before you dance so joyfully and you can’t say if it is the fire that warms you from the inside out or by how Diluc speaks to you as softly as the bat of a crystalfly’s wings. You find that you can’t bear the weight of his loving eyes so you duck, tucking your head into your chest and letting your wet hair block your view. 
“O-of course, Diluc - I’ll keep that in mind.” He smiles at you, the name he is so proud of sounds so sweet coming from your lips and he can’t but give into his lesser nature and hurries for you to say it again. Pushing and tucking away the hair you used to hide your flustered state, the skin where his hand had rested almost aches from his presence,
“Say it again, say my name one more time.” He asks, and you concede with a shy smile - stuttering over the proud syllables of his name. You find yourself unable to meet his gaze, eyes wide and face hot. You hide your face with the back of your hand, from behind the fire cracks. Anything that Diluc wishes to say, from asking you to say his name again or a comment on how you can’t bear his gaze Adeline calls from the staircase - “The bath is prepared, please head this way.” She says, smiling kindly to you as you rise but not without reaching out to squeeze his hand once then twice. 
“I’ll be back, okay?” You manage to squeak out - still timid but ever eager to be at his side. He smiles in that soft way where you can’t help but think he really hasn’t changed since he was a boy that would smile so freely. Adeline leads you to a much more private and grander bathroom than the one you have been directed to use before during your previous stays at the winery. The bathtub is filled with steaming, bubbly water, and the scent of flowers is heavy. Adeline instructs you to strip, turning for privacy and you tentatively begin to under the belts that keep up your trousers and armor.
You soon are undressed, and you are careful to submerge yourself as quickly as possible - clearing your throat timidly to allow Adelanine to turn over. The foamy surface of the bath allows you some privacy and the head maid smiles at you as gently as she usually does, collecting your muddy and soaking clothes into a wicker basket.
“I will set these aside to be washed in the morning - there will be a change of clothes brought to you when you are ready. The supper will be in the Master’s room as well.” She parts with those words and you don’t know if the heat you feel in your body is that of the bath or of the prospect of being in Diluc’s bedroom, alone with him. All the times you have spent with him were under the eyes of the staff - shared dinners and chess games, you playing the lute for him as he rested his eyes and listened lovingly. You don’t think that Diluc allows the staff into his room anymore, he is no longer a young lord that needs help being dressed so as you wash the mud and snow from your hair you can’t help but think of the private affair of dinner. Even the lovely scent of flower soaps and perfumes can keep your mind off it, you tilt your head back until it meets the rim of the tub.
You begin to observe the room around, all dark wood and gold - you see the engravings of grape veins and owls and it’s hard to not let your mind wander to your redhead lover.  You blink once, then twice, and sigh from your heart as you think of his vermillion eyes and delicate touches. Your hand, silky from the soaps and still toppled with foam rests upon your chest where the heart lies and you feel its steady beat rising as you sink further and further into your thoughts of the only man you’ve loved your whole life. The sea of your thoughts and the satin water of the bath have become one - you don’t realize you are in a trance until there is a knock on the door. You call out to let the person in, thinking it to be the ever-so-helpful blonde maid, who holds you in high esteem for making her lord smile so sweetly and boyishly.
Instead, the one who peers through the door is the object of your affection - broad and towering from your position in the bath, holding onto delicate fresh clothes in his arms. Nothing is said as he finally catches wind of your position, dewy and slick with soap studs barely giving you any sort of decency of your more personal affairs. Wide eyes framed by dark lashes from the water gaze at him and if Diluc was a lesser man his resolve would have collapsed to bone and dust. He most certainly found you beautiful but here, served in the luxuries of his home Diluc can’t help but find you divine.
“I have brought you clothes, a nightgown, and something for extra warmth,” He said, eyes to the side as he could hear the splashing of the water - you were raising your arms to cover yourself. DIluc swallows around nothing and lowers his gaze to the corner of the bathroom.
“I apologize, I should have knocked.” He utters his voice uncharacteristically soft and he hopes his ears don’t match his hair. You tuck wet strands of hair behind your ear and shake your head even if he can’t see it.
“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” You say, and it is true. He is your lover. These types of things are bound to happen if your relationship is to continue. You eye the clothes in his hands and bite your lip as you confront the reality of the situation.
“Diluc,” You say his name, and something hot runs up his spine. You say his name so softly it is almost like prayer and he can not deny the pleasure of hearing it be sung too sweetly. “Could you help me out of the bath?”
He wonders if this is his last day on this earth. Diluc lets his eyes flicker to you - eyes bright and hopeful as you look up at him with all the adoration in the world. Clearing his throat he can’t help but think he will never be able to deny you anything if you look at him like that.
“Yes, if that is permissible by you.” He agrees and you smile from behind the water, directing him to where you had seen the towel that the maid who most likely planned this happening had set them. The towel was fluffy and white, encompassing his form as you slowly rose from the now tepid bath water - you saw how Diluc scrunched his eyes shut and tilted away his face until you were wrapped in the white fabric. Clearing your throat was the sign to let Diluc lift his head and you were so close you could see the soft pink flush on the tips of his ears. Nothing was said for a moment - the moment was too precious to spoil, Diluc thinks you must be something divinely made and you can’t seem to wrap your head around how safe he makes you feel.
Is this how the jovial city of Mondstat feels knowing such a gentleman guards her walls with the ferocity of The Four Winds?
“Get dressed when you are ready - the nightgown should fit you comfortably. I’ll wait outside to take you to my quarters.” Diluc explains, eyes on the floor to avoid staring at the exposed skin of your collarbones and shoulders. Your knuckles were wrapped in the fluff fabric of the towel - you brought one up to wipe at your lips as you nodded at him. 
“I’ll be quick, promise.” The words are earnestly said, you mean them wholeheartedly and Diluc fights the urge to clutch at his chest when you speak to him in that way. In a manner that is too stiff but it’s all he can do he nods and departs from you only to bring his hand to his face and groan softly into the gloved palm. How cruel is it that you are so unfairly endearing - how is he supposed to be the gentleman he was raised to be when every action you take seems to erode his resolve?
 You are quick to change - giving yourself only a moment to gaze at the ornate nightgown you have done. It was made of a nicer quality fabric than you owned, silken and white it shined in the candlelight and was tied in the front. It was a bit loose around the shoulders and dragged behind you a tat and you can only assume that this was meant for a taller and more mature woman than yourself. After hearing a knock at the door you hurry to dry your hair some more - only for it to still be wet, sticking to your neck. You go to the door and smile when you see Diluc, a flush to his cheeks and an uncharacteristic wide-eyed look on his face when he sees you like this - dressed in a pretty little fabric that does not hide any of the curves of your body the way your uniform armor does. 
“Ah, do I look odd in this? I don’t really own anything of this sort of style - ah that’s not to say I’m not thankful! This is really pretty and it’s so soft on my skin-”
“You look wonderful in it.” Your rambling is cut off by his comment, there is something devoted in his voice that makes you timid. Face flushed from either the heat of the bath or from his praise you chose not to think of it, keeping your eyes on the dark wooden flooring and letting your hair fall into your face. Diluc can’t help but study you, a dangerous game and maybe it suits a man like him who has always invited danger into his life but right now you turn him into half of a beast and have a stumbling kitten. Lust is not a foreign concept to the Master of the House but it is one he had often thought he could without.
How foolish is the young Master? How foolish is Diluc, who ravaged the lands of Snezhnaya because the want in his chest told him to? Lust is passion, hatred is passion - Diluc though stoic and hard of face is still at the mercy of his passion. The heat of his vision pulses in time with the heat at his core; the one that makes his eyes linger on the swell of your chest for too long and it’s the same heat that makes him think of what your form would be like under his hard hands.
 You, who is kind and loving, who loved Diluc when he was a boy barely capable of picking up the claymore at the shy age of 10, and that you love him now who is dressed in pristine whites and smell of cecilias - how could his passion try to keep itself away from you? As you walk next to him, your elbow crossed with his after Diluc had offered you his arm. You are in his private quarters sooner than you had believed and chills break onto your skin as the scent that always clings to his skin is doubled in the presence of the room. Lampgrass and smoke, grapes on the vine and pine - the smog of the scents are pleasurable as the hand he places on the small of your back to press you forward. The door shuts behind you and it does nothing to break you from your spell until you feel the breath of the one behind you, voice deep enough to be commanding; “Go sit down, the table is set.”
It makes you smile when you see the spread - Goulash, Northern Apple Stew, and Moon Pie are the main dishes. You tilt your head as you near the small table and you can see the smaller dishes that you have mentioned to him that you like. Mondstadt Hashbrowns, Satisfying Salad, and even Mint Jelly. Diluc comes up from behind and blushes when he catches your eye instead of focusing on pulling out a chair for you. He gestures to sit and you do, smiling in that all too delicate way you do when you feel spoiled. 
It’s his favorite smile of yours - he hopes he can keep it on your face for as long as he lives.
“Here let me serve you,” He offers and you nod, watching how he passes you a dish of Goulash, a soup known for warming up those who have recently left the mountain of Dragonspine. It would make your tail wag if you had one as he cares for you and fills your plate as soon as it is empty. Dinner is filled with small moments that keep a smile on your face - wiping the sauce on your cheek and even taking your seat in one hand, tugging it closer to his side so your thighs brushed and pressed against one another. It’s almost romantic, here in the safety of the winery dining with him as you both discuss the simplest and most casual of topics that one only shares with their most loved ones.
You mentioned how the cecilia blooms seem to have doubled this season from the heavy rain and Diluc mentions being interested in a board game similar to chess from Inazuma named shogi. You take note to ask the traveler how to purchase a set and Diluc thinks of bringing you a bouquet of cecilias - the flower you love so much. 
Dinner is over sooner than you’d like but your eyes are half-lidded, the exhaustion of your trip to the mountains and the warmth of the meal making you weary. He notices, laughing softly when he takes note of how you sway side to side in your seat. Faster than you can blink you find yourself whisked away until your back is against the plush mattress and a wine-red comforter is tucked to your chin. With lidded eyes, you realize that he isn’t joining you to bed and you say his name in a voice that is just a tad whiney though you will never admit it.
“Where are you going?” You say with something needy in your heart and Diluc who leans over you, red hair cascading like the waterfalls that litter the landscape of Liyue in the few times you’ve crossed through Stone Gate comes to mind. His face hovers over you, you can see the faintest blotches of freckles over the noble bridge of his nose and you see how the cupid’s bow of his top lip is the slightest bit uneven. He doesn’t quite smile, lips only twitching in a soft way that conveys his affection and his hand - he abandoned the gloves for the meal, comes to rest at your brow and his gaze turns soft like a cloud when he brushes your hair away.
“I’ll sleep in a guest room, you can take my bed.” He speaks softly as if his voice grows in volume in any way you would break in his hold. Your own hand goes to his fingers and palm molding into the grooves of his knuckles with your thumb rubbing at the bare skin. Your hands aren’t as soft but they dry and even at the tips of your fingers Diluc can feel their strength. The fire is dying but something is coming to life inside of you - it makes your heart ache as a new type of heat blooms in your stomach that does not come from any soup or hearty meal. The same heat that pours in Diluc’s vision, the same that fuels his passion, and the same that brings you to your knees.
“I’m still cold.” You say but your eyes say what your heart wants -  “Don’t go, stay with me, don’t leave alone, I want you.”
“Oh?” Diluc speaks after a beat of silence, vermillion gaze ablaze with so many questions and you read them all. Your gentleman in red is installed to care for and protect the weak, the vulnerable, and the needy. You know what he wants to say - “Are you sure? When I start I won’t be able to stop.”
You’ve tilted your head, bringing his hand to your lips to press a kiss to the scared, rough palm. Strength pulses through each digit, much like your own and your eyes are like snowfall. All pure and gentle, he finds it hard to refute you; hard to leave you in bed all alone when you look at him with sweet eyes begging him to stay. How could he say no to you? How could he deny you what it is you desire when all this night he has been attending to your every whim?
His lips are on yours and his hand heads south, cradling your jaw in his vast palm he tastes of apple cider and you taste of mint jelly - his mouth turns ravenous as if it didn’t have its fill at the dinner table. Diluc is still not satiated, his tongue warm and silken in your mouth traces the grooves of your teeth and you sigh into his mouth. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, blunt fingers curling into red tresses and you can’t help but tug the slightest bit. He groans softly at the slight sting and he finds himself tugging back the comforter until you are bare to him, your skin breaks into goosebumps at being exposed to the open air again. 
Diluc pulls away for air and spit strings connect you two until they break, the drops dripping from your chin to your neck. The milk light of the moon breaks through the curtains and Dilu can’t help but give into his lesser nature to drink you greedily with his scarlet eyes. Your face is warm, your breath condensing into steam from the difference of temperatures and he can’t help but find it lewd.
“I suppose I will have to stay with you tonight, won’t I? I can’t have you going cold under my care.” His voice is deeper, ravaged by the lust in his veins and you nod letting your fingers curl into his fur-lined jacket. You nod, head spinning from a simple kiss and you return the gesture to his thumb that rests on your swollen lip.
“Take it off - take it all off and join me.” You mutter, voice sluggish and the flame of your lust turns your mind to mush. Diluc can’t help but laugh - utterly breathless and enchanted by you, his hands leave you to push away his jacket and as it falls to the floor you bring your own hands to his face to keep kissing him. You press your lips to him, to his chin and cheeks panting and mewling into the brief space shared between you both as he can’t help but tease you.
“Haven’t I spoiled you enough? Do you still want more?” You whine and shake your head, eyes hazy by your own inability to be suave and smooth when faced with the enormity of your wanting.
“More - please, please give me more M-mast-”
“Diluc. Say my name and my name alone, you’re my lover only.” He cuts off your begging with a tone that leaves no room for argument. You nod to him hastily, whining as he grabs your wrists in his own hands. You are lovely like this, panting and chest heaving. If he had better lighting he wonders if he could see the hearts in your eyes as he lets his hands go back to unbuttoning, unbuckling, and pushing away the clothes on his form. His vest, shirt, and tie have all been removed and his chest is bare to you - the sight of a thick, burly chest covered in a thin layer of red chest hair makes you moan. When morning comes you are sure to be embarrassed, ashamed of your wanton and lewd behavior but that can come in the light of dawn.
You’re fine with acting like a cheap whore rather than the refined knight everyone knows you as if it’s for Diluc and for Diluc alone.
Everything happens so fast it’s hard to keep up with - his hands are under the skirts of your nightgown, broad fingers meeting the sticky lips of your cunt and mewling under him when they run down the seam of the folds. Your slick sticks to his knuckles and he laughs breathlessly and without mirth when he tilts his head to get a good look at how you whine - bringing the back of your hand to cover your face that grows hot with your own desire. It feels like you are melting, the heat of his hands is nothing compared to the heat of his fingers that sneak their way into you. Index and middle fingers curl inside of you as his other hand curls around the one that lays helplessly amidst the plush pillows and blankets of his bed.
“So demure, so lovely - my sweet knight, how pretty you cling to me.” His face does not leave from above you, lips only a breath away as his words like candle wax, hot and cling to your ears. You brush your lips to his panting and hungry as you nod almost mindlessly only to jolt with a moan when you feel his thumb that was not idle begin to swipe at your flushed clit at the rhythm of your heart. Diluc can’t help himself, tilting his head as he ponders the matter of his mind letting his fingers search for what it is he seeks; hounds sniffing for the rabbit in the meadow. You squeal suddenly, your thighs threatening to shut when the blunt tip of his fingers meets the softer, tender spot of nerves on your upper walls. A flame dances in his eyes as he smiles - a cold and victorious as you moan his name again and again as you melt under him.
“I found something, didn’t I?” Diluc is not one to tease but he can’t help but to as your pleasure folds over his hands like syrup. The release of your cunt clings to his fingers like it too, tastes just as sweet. You are open now, wet and darling with the pretty nightgown he gave you rucked up to your stomach and he can see how you twitch for more. The hand that held yours goes to his belt and you mewl from his departure making something smug in him grow three times over. The ever-kind and independent knight you reduced to a spoiled soiled pet, you really are an endearing darling to have his own.
His own, the thought makes him sweeten, pressing a kiss to your pliant and drooling mouth as he frees his cock from the prison that is his trousers. His mouth hovers over your lips and he asks you with his cock pressed between your bodies. It drools onto your thigh as you look down at it, your head swimming as you think about how it will be inside you if you permit.
“Are you warm enough now?” Diluc asks - still playing the game from before and you shake your head reaching down with a blind hand to take the shaft of his cock in your grip.
“No - no I’m still cold, warm me up some more please.” You say and he groans as you squeeze your hand around him with your thumb coming to swipe at its ruddy head. He whispers to you a rugged and breathless “okay” and he slips inside you like you were made for him. Birds have wings, lions have claws and he has you; Diluc not once believed he would ever find completion in his life but now he feels inside of you when you squeeze around the thickness of his length.
Breath-like steam brushes past your face as his hand goes to grip the headboard with a fierceness you’ve only seen from him twice. You are panting, almost going cross-eyed at the stretch, the heat, and the fullness you are feeling. Beads of sweat fall down your back and wads of tears make their way to your eyes and down your cheeks as you begin to hiccup at the first, second, and third thrust he gives you. You moan his name, say it like it's the only word you know - the first one to grace your lips and shape with your tongue. It is what makes lust dance along his spine like lightning, how you squeeze and drip and moan; Diluc is helpless to you, growing more enraptured by your hedonistic beauty with each thrust he gives you.
His grip on the headboard tightens and he feels the wood splinter and smoke, steam rises from his back as he moves faster and faster. It’s almost like you are the metal in his workshop and Diluc the blacksmith; forging you into something new, something whole with the weight of his cock and the blistering heat of his lust. You come without warning - a surprised shout of half his name as you squeeze tight around his cock. The tightness is unexplained and it stops him from thrusting with a sudden washing tide of his own completion. A mix of your own slick and his spent spills from around the walls of your cunt that flutter around his flushed cock as you tremble in the aftershocks of your pleasure.
Dilcu only watches, mouth agape and wide eyes as he takes you in - soaking and sopping, moaning, and whining beneath him. Your cunt leaks, dripping down his balls with the milky white combined release of the two of you and he finds that it isn’t enough. No, he wants more, vermillion eyes drink in the patheticness of your state; the drool that makes your lips shine in the low light and the tremors in your chest. His mind is set in stone, cum still hot inside of you with his cock twitching that the idea of filling you again and again his hips roll back and then forward into you. Gasping, your hands that had hung limp and useless at your side come to clutch at his biceps leaving lines as red as his noble hair - you are helpless in his grasp just like the headboard that smokes from above you.
“Diluc - Diluc wait, too much, too much!” You want to gasp, you want to warn but all you can hear is the wet skin of your ass smacking against his pelvis and his grunts that echo in his room.
“I’m not warm enough, not yet.” You wither and collapse on your back letting go as he pleases moaning when you release in the back of your mind that the ache in your gut each time he fucks both his and your cum back into you. Your head tilts back, empty and so far gone all you can do is hang onto him as you take note of the small specks of melting ice that hangs above the headboard that he grips with all his might.
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overandundertarot · 7 months
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pick a tattoo; message for you
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pile 1; Queen of hearts, The Hermit reversed, Ace of swords.
Pile 1 I feel you are taking time to cultivate a specific state of mind. Stillness, being present while at the same time appreciating such intense aspects of human emotions and meeting them with kindness and love. Right now, you are considering pursuing a solo journey, it's not something everyone will understand or that you can even explain. This can be physical or mental; you want to incorporate a potent source of creativity and connection to source in your daily experience. Keep at it, you're still wondering how to go about it. It feels like a half formed idea in your conciousness but let it marinate. You will arrive at a conclusion soon. For some there is something to do with cutting it off with/reaching out to another person. I heard making the best decision for both of you; do what you know and feel is right.
pile 2; 10 of cups, Ace of cups, Ace of swords.
Wow Pile 2! Romance is in the air! You have a romantic prospect right now(or several!) and are trying to be discerning. If not one is coming towards you very soon. You want to protect your heart, but are a secret hopeless romantic! You want in your deepest of hearts to get lost in the feeling and go crazy with love; experiencing the joys and exhileration of being with another person. You hope your partner can be an escape from reality for you, if not a soothing balm to the exhausting end of your day. You want a partner, a family and domestic bliss. Message for you is to give them a chance; let them show you how good it can be. Say yes to that movie or that trip! It seems too good to be true, but it's all you deserve. Enjoy it. So much happiness in in store for you pile 2! Ahhhh I wanna hug you, my heart is feeling full with it.
pile 3; Queen of pentacles, 9 of wands, King of wands.
Pile 3, how're you feeling? It's important to check in with yourself every now and then. You're working hard on a journey but you need to give yourself appropriate time to rest. I'm hearing that you romanticise the suffering. Not to a toxic degree but to make it all the more bearable. You likely already know your message. Keep going. You're doing wonderfully. This pile reminds me of Victoria Monet's words at the recent grammy awards. To paraphrase she explained that her receiving that award last night was a process years in the making; she was growing roots, laying ground. And she's finally begining to sprout. It's the same for you. You are patient with yourself, tending to to your work that you know will put you at the top one day. You have this regal air about you, keep your head held high. Some of you are facing a decision, I'm hearing to go with the shocking option lol.
pile 4; 6 of wands reversed, Queen of cups reversed, Ace of swords.
Things are very much upside down for you pile 4. There's been a thwarted victory(or a hollow one at the very least). It left you feeling empty. I get the feeling like you're crying out to the universe for help but it seems like no one is listening. You're keeping all these things bottled up; refusing to open up. There are people in your life who want to reach out to you but you are not trusting them, very guarded though i feel like its not obvious. Many people may not even know that you are struggling; they think everything is going great for you. The message for you is basically what you just read; you didn't know how to pinpoint what you were feeling. Reframe the situation; are you satisfied with those conditions? That's a no, open up to the people around you, or find a channel to process these emotions. Let yourself bloom again. There's also a big theme of turning your pain into profit. Perhaps use your experience to create art or to find a new persepctive in your work. There are solutions available to you. Use them.
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wheeboo · 9 months
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in bloom | kim mingyu
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SYNOPSIS. in which you struggle to tell your husband something that can make or break your relationship. PAIRING. idol!husband!kim mingyu x afab!reader (ft. best friend!seulgi) GENRE. fluff, established relationship, idol au, pregnancy au, comfort WARNINGS. reader is pregnant and has female reproductive organs, vague mentions of intimate relations, mentions of fatigue and throwing up, terms of endearment, kissing WORD COUNT. 2.5k
requested from anon: idol!husband!mingyu x reader where you find out ur pregnant, and youre nervous to tell mingyu <3
notes: this is my second time ever writing a pregnancy au (first time on this blog), so... i hope u enjoy! i had too much fun with this lol
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Being in the bathroom has never been this suffocating before. It's embarrassing, because literally anyone can walk in and hear the way you've been hacking over the toilet the past couple of days just like at your workplace, but the sudden bursts of nausea leaves you with no other option. You take a deep breath, attempting to compose yourself, and finally manage to stand up straight.
The little stick trembles in your hand, and as you peer down at the result, you swear you can feel the world around you completely stop. The two unmistakable lines are staring down at you through the small window of the test. You blink a few times, shaking the test even, as if hoping the lines will disappear or change, but they only remain.
It takes a moment for the reality to sink in. You're going to be a parent. A million thoughts race through your mind, and amidst the chaos, one question stands out: how do you share this with Mingyu?
Your husband is an idol, for God's sake. You've already seen the intensity of his schedule, the rigorous demands of his career, and the constant scrutiny from the public that has negatively affected other celebrities too. It feels as if you're going to be dropping a bombshell down on him.
You both always been careful when being intimate. And though you've had your conversations together about what it would be like to start a family, you never imagined it would happen quite like this, right at this moment when your husband has been reaching the peak of his career and is constantly in the spotlight. The timing couldn't be more unexpected, yet here you are, holding the proof of the little life growing within you.
Bringing the test out of sight, you splash some water on your face, taking a moment to collect yourself, before calmly making your way out of your bathroom, even with the anxious pounding of your heart feeling like it's bouncing off the walls of your place. And then suddenly, you're met with Seulgi running up to you from your living room.
"Well?" she asks, hands clasping together in excitement and an eager smile spreading across her face.
You turn towards her, and for some reason seeing the way your best friend's eyes are literally glowing with curiosity and anticipation almost makes you want to pull her in for a hug and sob into her shoulders. But you can't do that𑁋you're still struggling to process everything.
Instead, you take the pregnancy test out and show it to her.
Seulgi's eyes widen, and her hands fly to her mouth in disbelief.
"No way! Are you serious?" she whispers loudly, staring down at the test just to make sure.
"Yeah, I..." You take a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."
Seulgi just squeals, unable to contain her joy. She pulls you into a tight hug that makes you let out a groan at the sudden pressure over your tired body, yet you feel a sense of relief and happiness sharing this moment with someone close.
"Sorry! Oh my gosh, I feel like crying. This is𑁋I'm so happy for you!" Seulgi exclaims as she lets you go, holding your shoulders at arm's length and bouncing up and down happily.
The two of you share a knowing smile with each other. And as Seulgi catches sight of the way your smile doesn't seem as bright as hers, the way it doesn't seem to reach to your ears, she takes a step back, concern etching across her face.
Seulgi takes your hands in hers. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"
You let out a sigh. "I'm... I'm just overwhelmed, you know? It's a lot to take in, especially considering Mingyu's schedule and everything."
Seulgi squeezes your hands reassuringly. "I'm sure he will be over the moon, Y/N. He loves you more than anything."
Her words seem to offer comfort, but a lingering worry tugs at the edges of your thoughts. Seulgi senses your unease and pulls you into this time, a gentle hug.
"Listen," she says softly, rubbing her hands up and down your back comfortingly. "Mingyu is your husband. He loves you, and this is something you both have talked about before, right? You both will figure things out, so don't worry too much, okay?"
Feeling a bit more reassured, you manage a small smile. "You're right. I... I just need to find the right time to tell him."
When you both pull away from each other, Seulgi just grins.
"You'll know when the time is right, Y/N," she says, taking another glance down at the test out of excitement once again. "I'm going to be an auntie and spoil that little one rotten!"
You only let out a laugh and playfully shove her away, a lightness in your heart gradually replacing the worry in your bones.
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It's been hard trying to conceal away the fatigue whenever you and Mingyu wake up together in the morning and the subtle changes in your eating habits, but you've managed to keep it under wraps so far, constantly playing it off as stress or tiredness, though you do marvel at how your husband is just a little more oblivious than you thought.
Seulgi has been nagging you almost every day to take it easy and to share the news with Mingyu. And as the days pass, the weight of the unspoken truth feels heavier, and you realise that the longer you wait, the more difficult it becomes to find the perfect moment.
So you decide to act on it. You venture to the grocery store to buy some ingredients, and prepare a romantic, intimate dinner at home. You hope that it could help clear away the cloud of anxiety running through your mind and encourage you to finally tell him once and for all.
As the savoury aroma wafts through your home, you set the table with care, ensuring everything is just right. And when you overhear the familiar clicks of the locks at the front door, you take a deep breath, your heart beating a little faster, and slowly make your way to greet him.
Mingyu walks in his almost disheveled glory, a charming mess that somehow makes him even more endearing. His tall, strong frame moves with a grace that seems effortless. You can tell the day has left its mark on him, evident in the slight weariness around his eyes, but there's an unmistakable warmth and charm that lingers in the way he carries himself.
When he catches sight of you, his eyes lock onto yours, and a smile spreads across his face, seemingly erasing any signs of fatigue.
"Hey, beautiful," he greets, closing the door behind him and coming up to you to place a sweet kiss to your lips, like he always does. Then he gestures towards the table. "What's all this?"
A shy smile plays on your lips as you take his hand and lead him to the table. "I thought we could have a special dinner tonight. Just the two of us."
He quirks a teasing eyebrow up, eyes scanning over your face. "Did I forget something?"
You shake your head. "No, you didn't forget anything, honey. I... just missed spending some quality time with you. That's all."
Mingyu's expression softens, and he pulls out a chair for you. God, you love him. "Well, I'm all yours tonight."
As the two of you begin to share the carefully prepared meal, the tension in the room slowly dissipates. He tells you about the recent preparations for his group's performance at an upcoming award show, and you update him on all the latest gossip at your workplace.
You love the sense of normalcy returning to your evening and being with him after such an eventful day. Yet within you, the anticipation courses through your veins beneath the surface of your composed act.
It becomes a bit too hard to handle that you have to dismiss yourself to the bathroom to calm yourself down.
Your hands clutch the countertop as you take a deep breath and lock eyes with yourself in the mirror. The reality of the situation dawns on you anew, the nerves doing nothing but making you overthink. It's a blend of excitement and anxiety, and it makes you tighten your grip on the cold surface of the sink.
You look down at your pocket, where the pregnancy test is safely tucked away. You know you can't postpone this moment any longer.
You've imagined the two of you as parents so many times𑁋waking up together and preparing breakfast for a little one, taking family trips, and experiencing the joy of watching your child grow before your eyes. Envisioning this kind of future with Mingyu has always been a dream, and now that it's becoming a reality, the knot in your stomach tightens.
When you head out of the bathroom, you catch sight of your husband already tidying up and washing your dishes under the dim kitchen light. And for some reason the sight alone is enough to send a surge of warmth through you and make your heart leap out of your chest. You married this man, decided to devote your entire life to him despite the complications with his career, and now, you're about to share a piece of both of you with him.
He dries his hands upon noticing you coming up. Then he looks at you with those warm, loving eyes, and it hits you like a wave𑁋the realisation that this incredible man, who has been your rock, your love, and your partner in all aspects of life, is going to be the father of your child. Just in that moment alone, you swear you fell in love with him all over again.
"Hi, angel." He reaches for your hand, interlocking your fingers together and you can feel his wedding ring pressing against your skin, giving you a playful twirl before pulling you into his arms. "What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"
You smile softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace. Mingyu has this uncanny ability to make you feel safe, and right now, you need that more than ever.
"Nothing, just..." You bring a thumb up to brush over his skin. "Thinking about you."
Mingyu giggles heartily, pushing back some hair away from your face. "Oh, yeah?" His voice is low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "Hmm, is it good thoughts?”
You only give him a sly grin. "Always."
Mingyu just pulls you even closer, his hands making their way down to hold you lightly at the waist.
"Good, because..." He leans in, pressing a kiss to the spot behind your ear. "I've been thinking about you too."
You laugh softly, relishing the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. When he pulls away, your gazes meet together, and you take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. This is it𑁋the moment you've been waiting for.
"Can you close your eyes for me?" You whisper, a nervous but hopeful smile playing on your lips.
Mingyu raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "What's this, a surprise?"
You nod, trying to conceal the trembling excitement in your voice. "Just close your eyes, honey. Trust me."
He chuckles but obliges anyway, shutting his eyes and wearing a curious grin. You take a moment to compose yourself, feeling the weight of the moment settle on your shoulders. With a deep breath, you retrieve the pregnancy test from your pocket and carefully place it into his hand.
"Okay, you can open your eyes now."
Mingyu blinks his eyes open, and as he sees the pregnancy test in his hand, his expression transforms from curiosity to bewilderment. He looks down at the test, then back at you, his eyes widening with realisation.
"I𑁋is this...?"
"Yeah, we're..." Your words trail off for a second, and you swallow down the lump in your throat. "We're going to be parents."
Mingyu's eyes widen even further, and for a moment, he seems frozen in place. The seconds only continue stretch, feeling like an eternity in the utter silence of your place. You watch the flicker of emotions on his face𑁋surprise, confusion, shock, joy, and a hint of nervousness.
Then, as if a switch is flipped, a radiant smile breaks across his features. Before you can say something, you find yourself being lifted up and sat on the island of your kitchen with Mingyu standing between your legs.
"W-We're going to have a baby?" he stammers, as if the test wasn't enough to convince him and he needs to hear it from your own lips.
You cup his face with your hands. "Yes. We're... we're going to be parents, Gyu."
That's all it takes him for to kiss you, a gentle yet fervent kiss that feels enough to knock the air out of your lungs. Smiles emerge on both of your faces, laughter leaves your lips as he peppers kisses now all over your face.
"I can't believe it," he says between kisses, before pulling away to look at you. There's something a bit different in the way he's looking at you now, something deeper, more profound. "You're carrying our baby. I'm... I'm going to be a dad."
He gently rests his forehead against yours, his hands still cupping your face.
"We're going to be parents," he repeats, savouring the words on his tongue. He knows that phrase will be repeating in his head for the longest time. "I can't believe how lucky I am."
You kiss him again. The kitchen seems to glow with warmth and love as Mingyu holds you close, refusing to pull away anytime soon.
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A pair of large arms sneak around you, the soft light of the morning seeping in through the small window and bathing your bathroom in an relaxing, ethereal glow. Mingyu nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his familiar scent wrapping around you comfortingly.
"Good morning, my love," he whispers, lips grazing against your ear.
You dry your face with a towel, letting out a contented sigh as you relax into his embrace. "Good morning."
As the quietness of the morning takes over, you feel Mingyu's hand drift a little lower, before stopping right at the hem of your shirt.
"Can I?" he asks carefully.
You can't help but grin. "You know I'm not even showing yet, right?"
Mingyu just smiles meekly against your skin. "I know. I just want to feel close to the both of you."
So with a nod, you feel his hand make its way under your shirt and gently rest on your stomach. It's only been a day since you've told him, yet he traces over your skin with such tenderness that it makes your heart swell with right out of your chest. He's always been this gentle with you, treating you with the utmost care and love as if you're the most delicate treasure he's ever held. And now, knowing that he's going to extend that same love to the tiny life growing within you, it brings heat to your eyes.
You lean back into him, relishing the warmth of his touch.
As his hand comes to a stop, he places his head on your shoulder. "This is real, isn't it?"
You cup over his hand with yours, following the way he's caressing over your stomach. "Very real."
Mingyu presses a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, and one to your shoulder blade.
"I love you," he murmurs into your skin. "I love you both so much."
His words linger in the hushed bathroom, and you both stand there for a little while, simply basking in the warmth of the moment knowing that your little family is now in bloom.
"I love you too," You finally reply, turning so that you can face him. "We love you too."
Mingyu just pulls you close and kisses you once more. He will never get tired of hearing that.
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taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts
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luvtak · 6 months
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wanting, hhj x reader
✧ genre/tw extreme lying in the grass with hyune on his birthday, major yearning alert, really dangerous fluff i am so sorry, i love yous and maybe a few pet names, unedited<3
✧ w/c 784
✧ this is very quick and mainly just a word dump, but i hope you like it! some sweet for the sweetest boys birthday... how lovely the first bit of spring comes with him
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Sitting close this close to him you can smell the sunscreen mixing with his sweet cologne– the scent of warm weather days; springs and summers spent laying together just like this… glowing underneath the sun like two sleepy cats.  It’s funny to think that you’ve laid this way a hundred times in a hundred different ways, yet the novelty never wears. His long fingers swiping their way down your arm, reaching around your wrist and holding tightly. This close he can feel your heartbeat all around him, your chest pressed right into his and the rapid thump coming from his hold around your bracelet. Even after all this time, you still get so nervous being with him, the familiarity of his love swirling in your chest and your stomach–creating shaky hands and warm cheeks. 
Hyunjin’s eyes are peering down at you, striking you down with the strength of it. He’s so happy, springtime brightening his complexion with the shiniest smile you’ve ever seen, happiness leaping off of him. The warm blush settling along his cheekbones, the same color of the blossoms above you, creates a brilliant desire to heat up in you. Not a physical desire, not the disastrous need of nights past, but a fire of want… days spent waking up together and kissing goodnight, pictures and paintings, shared nightstand novels.
It’s ridiculous, you have him already– your hearts are tied together with twine; shared myocardium morphing into one beautiful beating thing– yet you don’t think you could ever stop yourself from wanting more. That wishing ache for him to be with you, too see him like a mirror to your own soul. 
He told you once that being with you was like a shower of cold mist on a hot day. You remember laughing, giggling at the unexpected confession for an early morning, but you see now. This unexpected pain for loving and needing and wanting someone so much, the biting incredulity of seeing someone. 
This close, both can see the evidence of the human condition wearing on each others faces, but Hyunjin has never been fonder of sun scars or smile lines–he loves you and he tells you with the blossomed trees as his witnesses. 
“I love you too, Hyune.” you say, quietly though you’re alone, and his grin is a lesson in heartbreak; so lovely, like a supernova. 
He never thought he could love springtime so much, had always been accustomed to fall and the icy cold weather of winter, but lying here with you he thinks spring might be his favorite. Seeing you and the flowers alight into living breathing blooms takes his breath away, makes him reach for his pencils and his paints. In the week alone he’s amassed several pictures of you, all beautiful, but none right. It’s the only reason he resents his love for you, so big and blinding, that no matter how exact the portrait is, it’s still missing that fundamental gleam you hold. 
“When we get home, can I paint you again?” The question while posed so sweetly makes you groan, if it wasn’t his birthday there’d be no way you’d sit for him another time. And yet, you can’t deny how special he is–the only thing he wanted today was to spend it with you, cake and presents optional. 
It’s this magic that makes you agree, and you can’t deny the excitement of seeing him work. Ever focused and hard working, Hyunjin’s world stopping even while in messy clothes and tied up hair. Seeing him paint made you fall in love with him; the sight of his color covered hands and his clear gaze over his canvas, looking over at you to smile… god you were doomed for him then. 
His stare turns to the clouds now, smile still lilting as he speaks, “i’m painting you right now actually,” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Sometimes in my head I look at you, and I feel the need for a pencil or a brush. I see what colors I would use, how I would blend them together to get the exact shade for your eyes… I’m doing it now.” 
It’s such a Hyunjin thing to say, yet the truth of it shocks you–what a beautiful boy he is, a rare and lovely find. Grinning like he knows he’s wooing you, staring up at the maya blue sky and painting a picture in his head. 
“I really do love you, Hyune.” you tell him, and the strength of it turns his head. Lighting his eyes with a fondness made for spring, rising slightly to settle his lips over your forehead before replying earnestly with every bit of truth in his heart, 
“I love you too.”
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© LUVTAK
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zucchichat · 1 year
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My opinion to "desperate" artists and TIPS TO IMPROVE YOUR ART
This is my art journey
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6 years later...
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If artists want support and followers, they should earn them by their own accomplishments and hard-work.
I hate it when they earn it from guilt-tripping others, being desperate and earn followers out of pity
You can never have a stable and healthy relationship with your followers that way, and you may get worse when you dont gain any interactions with them
Please stop doing this, and start growing your acc on your own. If you feel like your art doesnt appeal to others, start taking advice and study from other artists around you that you like. There are thousands of FREE resources on all platforms: Instagram, Youtube (recommended) , Pinterest (for reference) ,... And alot of separate websites you can find!
Trust me, hard work pays off
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Its okay to feel like you dont improve at all, but thats not true, if you study and practice often (no need to do it everyday, it can be 2-4 days a week) you're already better than yourself yesterday
Compare your art to other artists has alot of benefits since you can see what to improve and see the progress. But dont do that too often, it'll turn to be an unhealthy obsession and in this world where there're always people better than you, you'll suffocate yourself forever. Thats a hard hit to reality but it's the truth. In this i recommend:
Find artists that you like and set them as your art goals, they can be artists with totally different artstyles, art is never something stable and its always good to try new things
From your art goals, start "taking" some of your favourite things about the artists and "artistically" add them to your own.
Tracing is another way to study privately for beginners, but i dont recommend doing this for long, it can stagnant your progress if you rely on it too much.
Unless its your style of choice, practice confidence in your streaks and lines, use your whole arm to draw (i know it can be boring at first, but everything you do now will have a rewarding result)
Stepping out of your comfort zone sometimes. You dont have to do this if you consider art as a hobby, but if youre serious or wanting your art to take a new step, i recommend expanding your art to many categories, like drawing backgrounds, hands, poses, anatomy, ect.
Study color theory, this is optional but i heavily recommend, this makes your art UPGRADE NO EXCEPTIONS
Here are some of my very basic tips, you've probably seen them everywhere and hear these thousands of times already, but if you're reading this and feel motivated, consider this the start of your journey! This is gonna be an exciting, might be tiring and frustrating, but memorable
Goodluck! The future awaits new extremely talented artists to bloom💖
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Blurb request?
What if you stole Santiago's favorite hat, and he caught you wearing it, very casual, nothing to see here, nothing at all.
Make you mine: Santiago “Pope” Garcia x GN!reader
Thanks so much for sending this, Rally! 🧡☺️ I wrote a hat-based thing with Frankie x reader, but I gave this a bash too as I love the concept with Santiago (my beloved) too! I hope you like it!
Warnings: fluff, steam, lots of mentions of erections, cum kink sorta (brief), light-hearted. 🧢 🍆
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A hard swallow trails down Santiago’s neck as he clocks you. Wearing his hat.
He’s arrested by the sight of you, an instant flare of heat blooming across his skin as he realises, in no time at all, that he likes it. Likes seeing you in something of his. Or more so, looking like you’re his by association.
The attached and very intrusive thought is powerful and sudden on the heels of that realisation.
He’d love to see how you’d look wearing his hat and nothing else.
He quirks a brow in interest. He didn’t know that, specifically, would do it for him, but in fairness, he’s pretty sure you are the common denominator here. With you, he’s always discovering new ways that you turn him on.
Shame he can’t act on it though. You and he have been flirting back and forth, sure. But, you’d told him, not long after you’d met that… things were complicated for you. You and him? Maybe there was an instant spark, but you’d been clear the two of you would be nothing outside of friends.
So, he tries to compose himself as you walk over to him. A glass in each hand - one for him. “Thank you,” he smiles smoothly, clinking his glass with yours in a “cheers”.
The other boys have retired inside, after a poker night out on the deck. But you and he have lingered. For some air.
He lets his gaze linger on you, confident enough to drink you in for a stretched moment, your coy gaze even more alluring than usual from beneath the brim of his hat. He tries his best to ignore the blood thudding to his crotch. But you make that difficult to do - no-one else could ever.
“I’m cosplaying you.” You tease, brazenly acknowledging your blatant and unforgivable theft. “Pass me a stick of Wrigleys, Santi? It’ll really up my authenticity.”
He chuckles. Unable to take his eyes off of your bright smile. Your gaze flits gently over his face in return. Lingers on the creases radiating out around his eyes. Dips to his mouth. It makes him self-conscious - which he isn’t used to. Then again, he’s never met anyone who has quite the effect on him that you do.
He perches himself on top of the wooden porch rail. Gestures for you to join him and you seat yourself there too, body angled in towards him.
He can’t help it now. Looks up at his cap perched on your pretty head. He spreads his thighs a little to accommodate his growing bulge between his legs. “-You know. If any of the boys touched my hat…”
“Oh, I know,” you pout comically, shaking your head side-to-side. “Dead to you.” So you know his hat is famously off-limits then? In that case, either you must have put together that he’s a soft-touch for you; or, you’re trying to provoke him. But hey. He doesn’t exactly mind either option. “So.” You take a casual sip of your drink, your eyes flashing with mischief from over the brim. “The boys would be in for it. But what will my punishment be?”
Santiago takes a deep, steadying breath he dearly hopes is subtle as the bulge between his legs grows uncomfortably swollen, pressing up against the seam of his jeans in a way that makes his eyes prick with tears.
Fuck, he doesn’t normally have this much trouble controlling himself; but there’s something about you. Lord knows, he’s trying to keep his internal monologue clean but all he can think is: mine.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Undoubtedly, he can think of a few (hundred) ways he could “discipline” you, if that’s what you’re into. His palm itches where it rests against his thigh, becoming suddenly tacky.
“Well. First of all. Here,” he offers, pulling a pack of gum from his pocket. “You’re not really nailing ‘me’ yet. Needs more work.”
Nailing him? Fuck, that’s an unfortunate choice of words when he’s trying to take his mind off of ravaging you.
“No?”
“Not seeing the resemblance, cariño.”
“Well. That checks out.” You tug performatively on the brim of his cap as though you know exactly what you’re doing to him, actually. “I am a hell of a lot cuter.”
Fuck, you’re not wrong. You’re fucking adorable.
You take a piece of the offered gum, beginning to chew rather obnoxiously on it. “How about now?”
An easy laugh bobs in his neck. “Holy shit. Now it’s like looking in a mirror.”
You slide closer to him, shimmying yourself along the porch rail. An urgent heat prickles at his skin. Your proximity slips a warm snake down his spine.
“So, you approve, Santi?” Santiago could swear your voice has taken on a lusty quality. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on his part. “You like me wearing your hat?”
He almost chokes on his masking swig of his drink. Christ, if you only knew how much he approves. If you could see the sordid images playing on a loop in his head right now? Well, you’d probably throw your drink in his face, to be honest. Actually - he could do with it, to cool off. Maybe he can pour his own drink over himself if things get really dire.
“You think Frankie’s cap would suit me too? Or do I look better in yours?”
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Even the drum of his heartbeat feels like it’s trying to claim you. Trying to bust out of his chest to reach out for you.
Fuck. Are you trying to kill him? He doesn’t have a gasket, but he’s pretty sure he’s about to blow one all the same. “You know you look good,” he assures huskily, voice hollowed out by want, though still trying his damn best to toe the line.
Friends. You don’t want him to do the things he’s doing to you in his head right now. Right?
You smirk, looking all too pleased with yourself before taking a swig of your drink. His gaze is fixated on you as you wrap your plush lips around the mouth of the bottle, your fleet of pink tongue poking into the rim. The image certainly is… inspiring.
Fuck, he’s sweating. Swipes the back off his hand across his forehead, catching the moisture gathering inexplicably at his temples.
Then, to his horror, you stand, slinking towards him and slotting your hips in between his spread thighs. You crane around his form, careful that the brim of his own hat doesn’t poke his eyes out, and you dip your plush mouth towards this shell of his ear. Your whisper beds down right under his skin. “How do you think I’d look wearing this and nothing else, Santi? Would I look like I was…yours?”
Wearing my hat. Wearing my hat. Wearing my cum.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Santiago’s brain fully short circuits. He blinks dumbly at you, mouth slightly agape, as you simply look on in amusement, biting down on your lip.
It’s not like he doesn’t want to jump at the chance to find out, but…
He sniffs. Shoots for non-chalant and doesn’t pull it off. “I thought we… I thought. Just friends?”
“Santiago,” you purr. “I stole your hat. Catch-up.”
Catch-up? Holy shit. Maybe he’d have a clue what you were up to if he could think straight. His erection is straining against his pants so hard now he has to shift his hands to cover it. Has to bite back a strangled whimper at the painful pinch.
Your mouth twitches around a delicious self-satisfied smirk as you clock the state he’s in. You giggle, brazenly eyeing his bulge with interest. “Benny told me this might do the trick.”
Santiago’s eyes tighten then. He pouts up at you, eyes twinkling, almost wistful. “Honey.” He lifts the hat from off of your head, setting it down on his own instead. “You? You don’t need any tricks.”
“No?”
Fuck, the way you’re both so devious and so shy at the same time is killing him. “Nuh uh. I’ve wanted you for a long time. You’re gorgeous.”
He boxes you in a little more tightly with his sturdy thighs. Slips his hands on to your waist. Your breath hitches, and he likes the fact he’s finally managing to turn the tables. He dips his mouth towards you, and you manoeuvre around the brim of his cap until your mouth is a whisper away from his kiss. “Wait,” you urge. “I have gum.”
He can’t help but laugh - a resonant chuckle shucking in his throat- as you take a moment to toss it aside, and then he’s just looking at you again. Gaze flitting softly over your face. Arms drawing you close to him once more until his lips brush yours. The contact sends tingles all the way down to his toes; he’s waited so long for this.
He deepens the kiss, soft and more tentative than he’d usually pitch it, his tongue probing into your mouth, but you return his growing fervour. Your palms brace against his sturdy thighs, and he swallows the smooth moan which blooms from your mouth as he clasps you to him.
You pull back for air, looking slightly giddy, and you survey him, a cheeky, devilish glint in your eyes. “You know. You look really fucking good in my hat, Santiago.” Your dark, teasing voice is like honey poured into his middle.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You look like you’re mine.”
He shucks air from between his teeth in surprise, his face splitting into a lopsided, awed smile. His eyes turn dark with hunger, pupils eating away at warm umber.
He is. He is yours, if you want him.
He decides then, that he can push this a little further. You seem keen - and Lord knows he is. And so, with a knowing, playful smirk, he dips his lips forward towards the shell of your ear. Whispers to you. “So, how about I wear this and nothing else for you?”
You visibly shiver as his words wind their way into you, your smooth facade cracking apart. “Santiago. Fuck. Are you trying to kill me?”
With his erection continuing to throb against the seam of his pants, he really thinks it’s the other way around.
“No,” he promises. “Only trying to make you mine.”
Mine. Mine. Mine.
That’s all he’s wanted since he met you.
He devours your mouth in another hungry kiss, tongue shoving against yours, opening you up. Stubble raking over your skin.
And, before your delicious kiss knocks every other thought - and word and concept - right out of his head, he logs the fact he definitely owes Benny a favour.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
He always wanted to be more than friends.
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