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#OF ALL THINGS I DID NOT THINK IT WOULD TURN OUT BLUE whenever i did look at the color wheel i swear. i was on the warm side
meiieiri · 1 day
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐚 [gojo satoru]
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synopsis: you got married to gojo satoru at the edge of a frozen lake in summer.
pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader
warnings/tags: heavy angst, a love that’s TOO LITTLE TOO LATE if one can even call that a tag, unrequited love (kinda).
Marriage is a golden ring on a chain whose beginning is a single glance between two unsuspecting souls that ends with eternity.
Twelve years. You’ve loved him through twelve springs. It’s bittersweet to think how a person could give another their youth for free. But then again, the only things that you truly keep are the things you give away. That’s just life, isn’t it? And besides, you take a step towards the blue peony littered aisle with a wistful smile on your face as you picture a certain arctic-haired man standing at the other end, when it comes to matters of the heart, keeping ledgers of the love you give and the love you receive is a futile effort.
You should probably put that in your vows later. But ah, what did it matter? Satoru’s probably just gonna wing it later, arguing that expressions of love should be light-hearted and candid much like the love you share.
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“Y/N-chan~!” He steps in front of you, his tall form towering over you as he catches you by the student lounge’s vending machine. Shoko smirks behind you, pulling Suguru ahead of you to leave the two of you alone. She nudges you forward and you cast her a betrayed look to which she only replies with an innocent shrug. It’s common knowledge to everyone in Tokyo Jujutsu High how you feel about the Gojo clan’s illustrious little starlet.
Well, it was common knowledge to everyone except Satoru Gojo.
And you don’t know if you find that comforting or saddening.
Comforting that he wouldn’t find out about your feelings from someone else, though you’re still working up the courage to fess up, you wholeheartedly believe that this is something he should hear from you and you alone. Saddening that maybe the reason he’s been all blissfully ignorant of how your breath becomes shallow whenever he’s around you is he’s actually already aware of your feelings towards him and he’s only deflecting it.
“We’ll go ahead, Y/N,” Shoko says in a sing-song voice, taking your cursed tool from you. “Come see me if you have any injuries!”
“But if it’s a broken heart, she probably can’t fix it,” Suguru chimes in, winking at Satoru as if to say: ‘Go talk to her.’ before turning to follow his girlfriend.
A hush falls between you and Satoru, unspoken words swirling around the two of you like a symphony of longing. Both of you seem to be saying the same thing:
Should I tell her?
Should I tell him?
What would she say?
Would he leave?
If the truth is meant to set you free, then he is your jailer. Why is he content with never uttering those words aloud? Why are you so eager to stay in the hedge maze of your mind, seeking his shadow at every corner? This was a tiring game of hide and seek.
But Satoru is completely fine with letting it drag on if it meant he’d never risk losing you.
And you were fine with that too. You were fine being a prisoner to your truth as long as he was with you in this jail cell. You were fine.
Whatever fine means.
“Wanna go to the arcade?” Satoru looks at you with a shimmering bittersweet look in his eyes.
You smile and a breathy laugh falls from your lips causing his face to light up even more.
“That depends, you gonna let me win?”
“Never.”
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“Y/N! There you are.”
You turn around to see an older Shoko, her youthful bob cut having outgrown its juvenile flare. She looks out of breath, she must have run around the venue looking for you and judging from the way she keeps glancing at her watch, and the exasperated look she was throwing your way at the sight of you still in your silk robe, you needed to get moving.
But your feet remain planted in the middle of the empty aisle, your gaze trained on the arch.
“You feeling okay?” Shoko asks, her hand finding yours in a tender display of solidarity. “It’s okay to be nervous, you know.”
You flash her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I know. Just…deep in thought.”
“Yeah.”
Weddings are always so beautiful, you think to yourself as Shoko steps back giving you some space as you contemplate the day ahead. Your fingers trace one of the satin linens adorning the trellises much like your heart traces the contours of a love too delicate to verbalize, too powerful to ignore. Your gaze dances over the elegant arrangements of blue, white and gray, the scent of grapefruit-quince adorning the air, mixing with the scent of peonies, jasmines and white musk.
Everything here speaks of the imminent union of two souls finding their way to each other. And how comforting it is to know that no matter where you wander, all paths inevitably lead to Satoru Gojo. And you have your drunk cartographer heart to thank for that.
“He loves you,” Shoko finally says, catching your wrist to bring you over to the gazebo to get touched up.
“…I know.”
You look back at the empty aisle, with all but one question in your mind.
What happens when simply knowing is no longer enough?
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“Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again with my sunglasses off?”
You nearly choke on your yogurt drink when you see yet another stunningly familiar light blue sticky note on your desk. Satoru fucking Gojo is going to be the death of you one day. Your touch grazes over the hastily scribbled note, a small smile playing at your lips as you take out a white pad of sticky notes from your school bag. After collecting your thoughts, you decide to play along with his little game, your heart fluttering when you realize that this back and forth could actually be considered flirting.
“There’s no such thing as love at first sight. And sorry, pretty boys like you aren’t exactly my type.”
Satoru finds the white sticky note plastered on his stool in Jujutsu Tech’s science lab. Despite the playful jab in your reply, Satoru is hyperfixated on the fact that you just called him pretty. Did you really mean it? He bites the inside of his cheek being careful not to grin too much in fear of Suguru catching wind of what’s happening — the strongest sorcerer of this generation being caught off-guard by his little crush? Detestable!
“You think I’m pretty? ;) I knew it.”
Shoko looks at you funnily, you’re practically red as a tomato with how you’re fuming from the ears and sputtering about how ridiculous Satoru is being. “He’s just so…so…!”
“You really should work on finishing your sentences now~”
You are interrupted at the sight Satoru practically hopping down the steps leading to the training field with a convenience store bag tucked under his arm and you sigh exasperatedly, turning away as if he was a bug that’s hovering over your ear that you really shouldn’t be paying attention to. All of his six foot two form plops down next to you and you jump when he presses a cold ice cream bar to your cheek.
“You’re awfully generous today, Satoru,” you smirk, accepting and lifting the ice cream bar in silent gratitude, suppressing the blush creeping onto your cheeks.
Satoru blushes himself, his hand coming up to rub the back of his head as a comfortable silence falls between the two of you. Shit, say something, Satoru thinks to himself. Was he being too obvious? Did you somehow piece it together now that he has feelings for you?
In his internal dilemma, Satoru settles for undermining the deliberate gesture.
“I only needed two more stickers to get this really neat toy,” Satoru explains, reaching into the convenience store bag and pulling out his new tamagotchi. “Pretty worth it, I would say. The one I saw in Akihabara is being sold for 7500 yen, but that’s the angelgotch variety, so I kinda get the whole roadside robbery thing.”
Of course, he steered the conversation elsewhere. You’re not even surprised at this point that he’ll always only stay at the surface when he treads these long drawn out conversations with you, too afraid to say anything more — do anything more — than what was necessary as your friend.
Keyword: friend.
He had no obligation to you other than being your friend. And you don’t blame him. You’re not angry at him that he’s only willing to stay in shallow water with you, it’s just…
“Hey, I have to go, Yaga’s calling me.” Satoru casually interrupts your train of heartbroken thoughts, but you do not miss the unease in his voice, he almost sounds sorry that he has to bail again.
But you already send him off with a reluctant thumbs up. As you look at his retreating form, he stops for a bit at the stone tori gate, his head bowed in thought, you don’t know why you held your breath. He reaches into his pocket, but thinks better of it, and he paces two hesitant steps forward.
Then, he looks back to meet your eyes from afar.
And his heart clenches in a mixture of affection and exasperation when you are the first to blushingly look away.
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The ten feet separating the two of you is very reminiscent of how you began: running in opposite directions to outdo the other in your competition to see who can act that they care less, placing more distance between your flustered hearts. Satoru gazes at you as if he’s seen the divine incarnated into a single beautiful being. He wipes a tear from his eye, sniffing momentarily, watching you gracefully float down the aisle with an equally smitten expression on your features.
Clutching the bouquet in your hands, you don’t break eye contact and everything seems to unfold like a motion picture before your very eyes, your and Satoru’s life together in vivid cinematography: your first dance later tonight, your first trip out of the country together for your honeymoon, your first time, your first year, your first child. Everything. You’ve imagined Satoru to be your first in everything. And as you make your way to the aisle, tears glistening in both your orbs, you stop to meet in the middle, the two of you standing on fate’s edge together.
He casts you a look, and you offer him a melancholic smile.
This was it.
The doors open and his bride arrives, and you move to the side, taking your place next to Shoko, painfully leaving the space you and Satoru briefly shared, a space that was never meant for you in the first place.
Which begs the question again: what happens when knowing is no longer enough?
Or is it…the two of you never knew at all how the other felt?
No, you and Shoko watch as Satoru stares at you from his peripheral, his heart fragmenting into irreparable pieces at each step his bride makes towards him.
Should I tell her?
Should I tell him?
What would she say?
Would he leave?
The answer is clear now. He wouldn’t have left. Things were just left unsaid, never admitted — the words that you longed to hear from one another never fell from your lips. Not once in the twelve years you secretly held him in your heart. And thus, fate then decreed that love is for the brave, and not for cowardly souls like you and Satoru Gojo.
And with whatever strength you have left, uncaring if this would cause you to look scandalous: a bridesmaid going after the groom, you mouth the words: “I love you.”
A pained smile appears on his lips, an allegory to the goofy grins he used to flash you when you two were young, and he nods, tears in his eyes.
This was twelve years too late. But it’s better than never.
“I knew it.”
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stxrvel · 4 hours
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right here
it was just one of those nights when you had to take care of Satoru since Suguru left… content. au, no sorcerers in this one. mentions of drugs and drug use, angst, curse words, maybe some kind of domestic fluff? implied smut at the end. happy ending? a/n. this is kind of like an au from this fic. not so sad and a little bold. hope you like it either way!! (right here by chase atlantic heavily inspired this)
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Satoru was high, again. His dilated pupils were fixed on your body from the moment you entered his field of vision, walking among the sweaty bodies that did nothing but squeeze against each other in that discotheque. His lips had curved into a lewd smile, because you knew he knew you were coming, sooner or later, and his bright eyes roamed your body, even though you were barely wearing a pair of baggy jeans and one of his giant jackets. To beat his stupid ass and take him back home, like always.
“Satoru.” you spoke in reprimand, and his fucking friends around you barely gave you a sideways glance, some blurting out obscene words they thought you couldn't hear and others booing because you were going to take away their source of amusement. “Time to go.”
“Ah, y/n, can't you wait a little longer?” Shoko was at Satoru's right side, holding his arm as if she wasn't ready to let him go.
You only liked Shoko when she was sober, so you pay her minimal attention as you approached your white-haired friend. His smile hadn't disappeared, and it seemed like those moments were the only ones where you could glimpse a bit of real emotion in his eyes.
“Come on.” You grabbed his arm, ignoring the way Shoko wanted to cling to him and how his other friends were booing louder. Satoru's limp body slipped through your fingers, because he was damn heavy, falling against the couch again. “Please.”
His body gave way, moving with a new strength of resolve the moment that word left your mouth. His eyes, as bright as they were dangerous, were fixed on yours as he intertwined his fingers with yours.
“Will you shut the fuck up, Choso?” Satoru spat, averting his gaze for a moment to devote a deadly expression to the friend who used to boo you the most whenever you went looking for him. You and Choso used to get along well, but from a while back things had changed too much.
Even six months ago you didn't think you'd ever have to go into a nightclub at two in the fucking morning to look for your friend because he wasn't answering his fucking phone.
You dragged Satoru to your car, and even though he looked so stoned from the way you could barely make out the blue in his irises, he walked like he was sober beside you and buckled up judiciously.
“You were late today.” was the first thing he said as you pulled onto the freeway heading towards your apartment; the apartment you shared with the airhead you had for a friend.
"I was asleep. You were supposed to write me if you were here any longer.” you gave yourself a moment to turn to look at him, his gaze clouded with drugs. “What did you get into?”
“Nothing I haven't tried before, don't worry.”
“Why do you have to do this every time?” you whispered, but his perceptive self caught every word that came out of your mouth and let out a chuckle in response.
“You shouldn't worry so much, y/n.”
“I'll worry as much as I damn well please, you hear?”
Your aggressive tone of voice only caused him to laugh again. He didn't answer back, but with his head resting against the window you knew he'd fall asleep soon.
-
Satoru had become uncontrollable since Suguru left. Six months ago, the love of his life, the person he swore he would spend the rest of his life with, had given him nothing but a poor excuse to end what they had built for four years and kick it all over his face as he turned his back on him and disappeared; totally. The day Suguru walked out that door, neither you nor Satoru ever saw him again.
It was clear why you were coping better than Satoru. Suguru hadn't promised you a lifetime together or given you a promise ring. Satoru had been broken since the day he left and it had been a constant battle trying to keep him afloat. Only that nigh Suguru left, Satoru dared to be vulnerable with you and spent the whole night crying himself to sleep from exhaustion. Afterwards, he reconnected with friends he had abandoned since meeting Suguru. And with old habits, too.
You did what you could, but there was enough you could carry. Still, you didn't have the heart to leave him alone. He was the most important thing in your life and you couldn't let him fade away, even if his friends hated you; even if he hated you himself. Whatever you had to do, you would do it.
“You smell so good.” Satoru spoke in his sleep, the moment you dropped him on your bed, because he had never dared to go back into the room he shared with Suguru. He usually slept in the living room or brought the couch into your room when he felt too lonely. “Have you always smelled like this?”
His head lifted from the pillow, trying to follow the thread of the scent of your perfume wafting from your neck.
“Yes. Now hold still.”
“Is it time to undress already?”
"Yes, Satoru. And you should take a bath. You smell awful."
"What the…? Of course not."
The white-haired man stood up long enough to try to sniff his own shirt, which emitted a smell of alcohol mixed with cigarette and who knows how many other things. His nose wrinkled and for that reason alone he let you unbutton his shirt without a complaint. Usually Satoru would get too commentary when you undressed him to take a shower, but that time he kept quiet, his narrowed eyes following your movements and flinching when your fingers touched his skin.
“Are you going to fix dinner?”
You looked up at him through your lashes as you undid his black pants.
“Are you hungry?”
“I think it would help me regain consciousness.”
"In the fridge are the leftovers from dinner. I can heat them up while you bathe."
Satoru clicked his tongue, moving to sit up when you took him by the shoulders.
“We were supposed to have dinner tonight.”
Ah, in all and in the midst of his lethargic state he remembered.
“Doesn't matter.”
“I'm sorry, y/n.”
"Get up. The tub's ready."
Satoru stood up with a pout, his eyes crystallizing as he moved behind you in the direction of the bathroom. He didn't stray for a moment like he did before.
“Ah,” Satoru almost groaned as he sank fully into the water, letting his eyes close as you wet his hair a little, “this feels like glory.”
“You could feel like this more often if you didn't go out so much.”
Your friend frowned, half-opening his eyes to look at you as his hair got soaked. “Are you implying something specific?”
You didn't respond, letting silence dance between the two of you, until your friend groaned loudly.
“You know I'm slower when I'm drunk.”
“Then you should stop being drunk so often.”
“Not fair…”
“Take a bath,” you left the soap between his hands, “I'll go heat up your food.”
Walking in the direction of the exit, you still wondered why you had let things go this far. Satoru called out to you, his left hand outstretched outside the tub, as if reaching for you, trying to get to you. His bright eyes still lacked that glowing blue, but you could see a little more lucidity in them now.
“Thank you.”
-
You sat across from your friend as he dove into the dinner you had prepared. Satoru loved your food. Back when Suguru still lived here, you would prepare banquets to spend a day or the whole weekend with endless platters of food while having series or movie marathons.
Maybe you wanted to convince yourself that Suguru's departure hadn't affected you as much as it had Satoru. Maybe it had, but if you weren't the rational one in the relationship you were left in with Satoru then probably neither of you would survive.
“This tastes amazing.” Satoru complimented you, scraping the crockery to eat every last chip.
“It was more delicious freshly prepared.”
You let your chin rest on the back of your hand as Satoru looked up heavily, the blue glowing a little brighter after the shower and with some food in his stomach.
He gulped. “I'm sorry-”
“Whatever,” you didn't want to hear it; you'd lost count of the number of times he'd apologized and the number of times he'd promised you that next time it wouldn't be like this, “finish quickly to go to sleep. I can't feel my eyes anymore."
You got up before his whiny voice could reach your ears and finished organizing the kitchen by the time his plate was left in the dishwasher.
“The rest will be organized by tomorrow's sober you.”
Satoru lifted a shoulder. “It's only fair.”
In the room, silence engulfed you once again. You didn't close the door because you knew he planned to sleep there that night, but his body remained standing in front of the couch when you thought he'd already gone to bed. You changed, as usual, as you usually do while he sleeps, in front of the closet.
“Hey, do you think I can sleep with-? Wow.”
You froze. Your breath caught in your throat because you swore he'd gone to bed; it was what he did every time, you didn't even have to ask him to do it. But when you cautiously turned to look over your shoulder, he was standing in front of your bed, with a direct view of your bare back and full coverage of your legs because you were only in your underwear.
“Satoru! Turn around!”
“Ah, yes, sorry, sorry…”
His body turned reluctantly, returning the poorly disguised stare about three times until his back was completely turned to you.
You changed in record time, barely putting on one of the white shirts you had stolen from him months ago and closing the closet. When you turned around to see him, his back was still turned, playfully kicking some lint on the floor, trying to distract himself while you finished changing.
“What were you saying?”
Satoru turned suddenly, his eyes finding you with trained ease, walking in the direction of the nightstand to prepare you, once again, for sleep. His silence intrigued you, and when you turned back to see him after plugging in your phone and setting your alarms, you found him staring at your legs.
“Satoru.”
“Yes?” his large, not very innocent eyes returned to your face with embarrassing speed, and from the hardness in your gaze he cleared his throat before speaking again. "Ah. Mmm. Actually, I wanted to ask you if I could sleep with you tonight, but I don't know if it's the most appropriate thing to do right now…"
You arched an eyebrow at him, massaging your hands with a moisturizer as you settled in between your sheets.
“But you sleep here every night.”
“I mean,” Satoru shifted, pointing to the empty side of your bed and then to himself, “to literally sleep with you.”
“Ah.”
You looked at the empty side and at your friend, taking more time to respond than Satoru had considered. He thought you'd straight up tell him no and even send him to sleep in the living room, but it seemed like you genuinely considered it.
“I wouldn't mind.” you finally replied, and you missed seeing the way his shoulders relaxed as you turned to turn off the room light. “Just try not to snore too much.”
“What?” Satoru stopped halfway into the bed, and you smiled imagining his offended face; if you focused properly you could see it through the darkness. “I don't snore.”
“Uh-huh~”
Satoru finally threw himself on the bed with a grunt and you could only laugh in response.
“Go to sleep already.”
Satoru cowered on his side of the bed, unaccustomed to sharing a bed with someone for several months now. His tense body stayed in the position he fell into, face up, barely feeling your movements on the mattress as you found your favorite sleeping position. Your bed was small, barely fit two people, and if Satoru got any closer he could feel your breathing against his neck.
“y/n?” Satoru spoke a couple of minutes later, when he thought you had fallen asleep.
“Mmm?” you hummed in response, trying to hold back sleep until you were sure your friend had fallen asleep first. Usually that wasn't a problem, because Satoru pretty much came in asleep from the car ride, but that night he seemed to be full of surprises.
“Do you miss him?”
Your chest ached for the tiniest second, the fond memories of their nights the three of you together in that apartment raiding your mind. Maybe you had mourned Suguru's departure as much as Satoru had when he wasn't seeing you, but that was something you were going to keep to yourself alone. There was no room for forgiveness and that attempted of a man didn't deserve a single tear from both of you.
So you swallowed that pressure like a wet rag and frowned, even if your friend couldn't see you.
“Not as much as I'd like to strangle him.”
“How do you do that? How do you stay strong?”
His voice, so low, soft and vulnerable, you couldn't help but let it pierce through to your heart. You opened your eyes, and for some reason you felt his blue eyes on yours.
“I do it for you.”
You listened to his breathing, loud, choppy, the slight startled intake of breath. You moved your hands over the mattress and didn't have to go too far to find his hands and cradle them.
“You don't have to think about that,” you murmured now that you were closer, feeling his heartbeat through your grip, “you don't have to think about him.”
“I don't know what to think about anymore.” Satoru replied, his voice matching yours, almost as if he was running out of air; like his last prayer for salvation.
And you didn't know, even some time later, what had moved you that night. His closeness, his vulnerability, that you no longer knew what else to do to help him… but you moved closer to him and pressed your lips against his.
Satoru was probably moved by the same thing that moved you, because he didn't hesitate for a second to kiss you back with the same fierceness and passion, letting go of your hands and wrapping his long arms around your waist.
That night something changed between the two of you. You didn't know if you were seeking comfort in each other's arms; trying to fill a void that someone else had implanted in both of you with his departure, when he had taken a part of each of you with him when he left; maybe because you were both the only thing the other had; maybe because you knew Satoru would never do that to you; maybe because he knew you would never do that to him.
Whatever the reason, Satoru never let go of you all night, his lips swallowing every moan of yours and his hands always intertwined with yours.
Whatever the reason, Satoru had found something else, something different, something that didn't even compare to drugs… something he didn't even know he could have.
And he wasn't about to let it go this time.
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imagines--galore · 3 days
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||The Thread of Fate|| Part Twenty-Six
Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.
Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)
Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.
Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty, Part Twenty-One, Part Twenty-Two, Twenty-Three, Twenty Four, Twenty-Five,
A/N: I am so glad you guys liked the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this on! Get ready with the tissues folks! This is gonna be one emotional ride!
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Fate was on their side.
For once.
Her didn't run into any trouble while Zuko carried Orora to the war balloon. No one spotted them as they were lifted into the air and the clouds provided them with the cover they needed to stay out of sight. The winds were also in their favor, so maybe things weren't all bad.
While Zuko's intention had been to follow after Aang and his friends as they made their escape on the bison, he now had to make a small detour.
He couldn't keep the balloon in the air while also trying to take care of Orora, so they would have to make a stop where he would bandage her up and make sure she wasn't too severely injured.
His eyes darted to where he had laid her down on the floor just beside him. His pack served as a makeshift pillow for the time being, while his cloak covered her body, hiding the worst of her injuries from him. Checking the compass to make sure they were on the right course, Zuko turned his attention towards Orora.
She was just as beautiful as he remembered her.
Maybe even more.
While he had only seen her with short hair, he had to admit the longer hair suited her even more. It made her features appear far more softer. Her skin was slightly darker, probably from being under the sun for days.
He wished she would open her eyes so he could see if her eyes were truly as blue as he had seen in his hallucinations of her, or had that all been in his head.
But Orora didn't wake up.
Her breathing was even and her body relaxed, so that was a good sign, he thought to himself, his hand gently pushing away some of the hair from her forehead.
How long had she been fighting for her to get so tired that she would pass out?
Zuko shuddered to think what would've happened if he had arrived any later. It was obvious that his sister found out what Orora was to him. And if the Water Tribe girl had fallen into Azula's hands..........
His stomach churned and he felt like throwing up whenever his mind would wander to such thoughts.
Which is why he forced himself to focus on the present. And just be content and thankful that Orora was beside him. A little injured, but at least she was alive.
He had no idea how she would react when she woke up, but honestly, Zuko didn't care. As long as she didn't force him to stay away from her, he was ready to accept whatever she had to give him. His gaze flickered to where her hand peeked out from under the cloak. His own hand twitched, and he very nearly had to physically retrain himself from reaching out and taking it in between his.
No.
He didn't deserve to hold her hand.
Not after what he did to her.
Closing his eyes in resignation, his hand clenched at his side before he stood to check if they were on the correct course just so he would have something to do.
Little did he know, their destination was the very island Orora and her family had decided to call their home for the four days they had spent there before the Invasion.
                                          ————————–
It was nearing late afternoon when he sighted the island he had decided would be safe enough for them to take refuge on. For the past two hours, Orora had not stirred, and Zuko was starting to get more then a little worried.
As soon as the balloon landed, he quickly disembarked. Zuko had never set up camp as fast as he did then. There was no need for a tent, so a tarp overhead would have to do. Once his bed roll was on the ground he quickly rushed back to the balloon. Throughout his tasks, he had kept glancing in it's direction, afraid that Orora would wake up and try to stand by herself.
Cradling her in his arms, he gently placed her atop the bed roll, before pulling his pack towards himself and began to rummage through it. Once he had taken out whatever he needed, the young Prince set to work.
First, he made sure to clean the cuts that littered her arms and face. Her clothing had saved her skin from being cut open, but the tumble she had taken hadn't been forgiving when it came to her bare skin. Not to mention her gloves were tattered in some places as he removed them to allow her skin to breath. Dark bruises were already forming along her skin, and he gritted his teeth, regretting not taking down the soldiers then and there for hurting her like that.
Just then, she moved. A soft sound came from her parted lips, and her head fell to the side, now facing him.
Zuko paused, the cloth he'd been using to clean her cuts hovering just above the cut along her eyebrow.
But she didn't wake up.
And he resumed his task.
Once he had applied a soothing salve onto the cuts and bruises, he moved on to the injury she had sustained at her side. The sight of which had his heart constricting in his chest.
Somehow, despite the pain, he could see Orora had managed to heal herself a lot more then he had initially thought. The wound still needed to be dressed, something he was an expert at since he had to take care of his own burn a little over two years ago.
Not wanting to cut away her shirt, lest she feel uncomfortable when she woke up, he did his best to slowly and carefully cut the cloth around the wound, allowing the unmarred skin to show underneath. This time, when he applied the salve for burns, she did react. A sharp gasp that tapered off into a whimper echoed in the clearing, and her forehead creased at the pain she felt. Her hands clenched and her body tensed.
"I'm sorry." He whispered, his voice soft. "I know it hurts, but it won't in a bit. Trust me." As he spoke, he continued to apply more of the salve. And just as he said, the herbs within began to act and Orora relaxed.
She still didn't wake up.
Sighing to himself, Zuko picked up the roll of bandage he had packed. Gently guiding her into a sitting position, he leaned her upper body against his own, trying not to notice how her head rested against his shoulder, her warm breath brushing against his neck.
Wrapping his arms around her abdomen, he made quick work of bandaging her up, before laying her back down. He heaved a sigh of relief.
She looked much better now, he thought to himself, standing up and making sure the rest of the supplies were secure. A small stream ran just a little ways away from their makeshift camp. He was quick to walk over and get some fresh water before returning to her side.
She hadn't moved an inch.
And it didn't look like she would be waking up any time soon.
After a meager meal of bread and some fruit, he found himself beside her once again. He pulled the blanket up to her shoulders after slipping her feet out of her shoes, hoping it would make her comfortable.
Was it strange, for him to be looking at her like that?
Maybe.
But he didn't care. If he couldn't touch her, hold her hand, then at least he could just look at her.
And reassure himself that she was really there, and not just a figment of his imagination.
Zuko had no idea how long he sat there. Slowly the light dimmed as the sun set, but the moon was bright enough to allow him to continue looking at her. When did he change his position from sitting to laying beside her, his hand just inches away from her own, he didn't know.
Neither did he realize when his eyes closed and he fell asleep, his face turned towards her, one arm laying in front of him, as if even in his sleep, he was reaching out towards her.
His string glowing a strong blue.
                                          ————————–
Ice blue eyes blinked open, staring at the canopy of trees above.
Her entire body ached, and yet not a sound fell from her lips as she slowly sat up. The blanket dropped into her lap, as her hand lifted to press against her bandaged burn.
Orora blinked, slightly disoriented after having been asleep for so long. She raised a hand to press against her forehead, frowning at the bandage around her wrist. When had she hurt her wrist? She couldn't remember.
Everything was so unclear, as if she were trying to see things through a thick fog.
A slight movement at her side had the young waterbender turning her gaze in that direction.
Only to be greeted with the sight of a very real and very there Prince Zuko fast asleep.
So it hadn't been a dream, she thought to herself.
Zuko had been the one to save her. He was the one who had cleaned and bandaged her up. Her heart constricted at the sight of him, her teeth biting down on her lower lip. Allowing her eyes to drop to the string that connected them, she was not at all surprised to see hers flickering red every now and then.
Her heart and mind were raging an internal war, her eyes never wavering from Zuko.
It was ironic how their first encounter had been him saving her, and now, after all that had happened, after what he had done, their second meeting mirrored their first.
He had saved her yet again.
And it had opened the door in her heart, behind which she had kept her true feelings for him buried and hidden away from sight and mind for so long.
Because yes, she did have feelings for him. Feelings that had grown during their time together in Ba Sing Se but had stalled once he........well.............
Suddenly feeling like she couldn't breath, the girl quickly, yet silently, rose to her feet and walked off towards the edge of the tree cluster. Stepping out into the clearing, she took in the familiar sight. Seems Zuko had brought them to the very island where she and and her friends had been staying before the invasion. Her suspicions were confirmed further when a koalasheep with barely any wool covering it's body, walked past her.
A brief smile pulled at her lips before she began to walk further.
She didn't get very far though, her side began to hurt after a few minutes. Groaning softly, she leaned back against one of the many rocks that littered the surrounding and turned her face towards the sky. There was only half a moon that night, but it provided her with the comfort she needed.
Zuko was back.
He was here.
Just as he had promised he would be in her dream.
And even more strange was the fact that he was wearing the very clothes she had seen him wear in her last hallucination of him while she had been bathing before the Invasion.
Was this a trick? Was he going to try and lure her in and try to take down Aang and her friends? Was this Azula's plan? Or was it his father's? Or was it his?
Or maybe it wasn't a trick?
Because try as she might she couldn't ignore the fact that she had seen the glow of his string when hers had flickered with color as well.
And no one could fake their string glowing because it wasn't something anyone could tamper with. Not even the spirits.
What did that mean? Did he.............have feelings for her? But then how could he? How could he after what he had done? But her string flickering meant she still had feelings for him too didn't it?
But how could she? How could she be angry at him and hate him but also have feelings for him? Or maybe it wasn't hate? Maybe she was just angry and sad? Or just mad? Or sad? Maybe both?
Her head began to pound, and she reached up to rub her fingers gently against her temples to try and alleviate the pain.
Why did the Spirits have to give her such a complicated soulmate?
If she were honest, she didn't know how to feel about Zuko. There were so many emotions tangled up inside her chest that she could barely make sense of where one emotion ended and the other began.
"Orora!"
The sound of his voice calling out her name had the young waterbender growing rigid. Her eyes widened, and she pressed herself further against the rocky surface, ignoring the way a few sharp rocks dug into her already sensitive skin.
"Orora, where are you?" He called again. His voice sounded strange, she frowned, trying to determine the emotion within his tone. "You shouldn't be wandering around! You're hurt!" He called, and this time she was able to guess the emotion.
Or rather emotions.
Panic and worry.
She pursed her lips, wandering why she remained behind the rock hidden from his view.
"Please Orora! Answer me!"
The girl in question couldn't help herself as she took a small step towards the edge of the rock and peaked out from behind it. He was standing just a few feet away from her hiding place, his head turning this way and that as he tried to locate her.
"Orora!!" This time his voice broke at the very end, and though she had told herself she wouldn't allow her heart to feel anything remotely in favor of him, it did feel a pang of pain at the fear and heartbreak in his voice.
She watched as he dropped his head into his hands, before turning his gaze towards the sky where he glared at the moon.
"Was that all just a vision too?" He shouted, his voice echoing across the otherwise silent landscape, disturbing a couple of the sleeping koalasheeps.
Orora frowned. Vision? What was he talking about?
"Did I hallucinate all of that? Like I have been for the past few months? Am I going crazy?" He continued, raising his hands to his head and gripping his hair.
Her eyes widened as her mind finally caught up to what he was saying. He had been seeing her, just as she had been seeing him since their time apart.
But why would he see her? He had betrayed her. Was it out of guilt? Or was it because of what they had shared in Ba Sing Se? Questions burned at the tip of her tongue, and even more swirled around in her mind.
"Answer me!" He suddenly roared, making the girl jump where she stood and focus her attention back on Zuko. His head was tilted back once more towards the moon, and though she couldn't see his face, Orora knew there were tears in his eyes as he finally collapsed to his knees, his face buried in his hands.
Slowly, so as not to startle him, she began to walk forward. Her bare feet made no sound on the grass as she drew closer to him with each step.
"Please." She heard him say, his voice muffled. "I can't take this anymore." Curse the Spirits for her inability to see anyone, even people who had betrayed her, in such a heartbroken state. Because that is exactly what Zuko was right then.
Heartbroken and hopeless.
"I have to know if she was real or not."
She knew it was genuine, knew he couldn't fake it. Not when she could hear the pain in his voice and see the glow of his string, while her own flickered red.
"Please, let her be real."
She mirrored his posture as she dropped to her knees in front of him. Reaching out, she placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder.
His head snapped up.
Terrified amber eyes met an uncertain ice blue gaze.
                                          ————————–
The moment his eyes met Orora's, Zuko stilled.
For a moment, he even forgot to breath as he simply took her in.
Was this another trick? Another game his mind was playing with him?
But then his body seemed to register the fact he could feel her hand against his shoulder.
Warm, solid and strong.
And there.
She was staring at him, and though he could see the confusion on her face, he could also see the doubt in her eyes. And he had no one to blame but himself for that.
Once his breathing had calmed, she slowly retracted her hand, moving to sit on her knees properly, her hands resting on her thighs as she looked at him. This time with barely a hint of emotion on her face, as she watched him and waited.
It was strange how quiet she was. He had been expecting her to be angry at him, to yell, to cry, to blame him. And he had been ready to accept all of that.
This silence was somehow worse.
His stomach churned and a shiver of nervous energy passed through his body as he finally looked away from her. Too ashamed to meet her gaze. Her eyes, he realized, were the same as the ones he had seen in his vision. They were as blue as he had remembered them to be. Zuko focused on the bandage at the side of her waist.
Which only made him feel guilty at not being fast enough, not having been able to reach her in time.
"I-I-" He paused, clearing his throat.
Spirits! He had no idea what to say to her.
The next few minutes of silence were agonizing.
Finally, she sighed, and her body shifted, as if she were about to get up and walk away.
And that terrified him more then he had been while facing his father.
His right hand shot out, grasping her left hand within his. He felt her entire body freeze at the contact, knew that he had probably crossed a line, but he didn't want her to go.
Not when he hadn't said anything.
Still he did drop her hand and she resumed her previous position as did he.
"I-I was worried when I woke up and found you gone." He began, stumbling over his own words. "I thought maybe it had all been a dream." He admitted, glancing skywards towards the moon for a brief moment before resuming to focus on her injury rather then her eyes. "I know I'm the last person you wanted help from, but I just....."
He stopped, not knowing what else to say. Running a hand through his hair as an act of frustration he chanced a glance at Orora.
She was looking back at him, still silent.
The night air echoed with the sound of a humorless chuckle. "You're not going to say anything are you?" He asked, though he already knew the answer.
Silence.
"Honestly I don't blame you. Even I wouldn't talk to someone like me after what I did." He paused, licking his lips. "I-I don't bl-blame you for ha-ting me." The word felt bitter on his tongue.
In front of him, Orora seemed to tense even more.
"I don't blame you for hating me." He repeated. "What I did, betraying you and uncle, after all that we went through and what you did for me, I went and betrayed you like that." His voice cracked at the last words, his eyes stung with tears but he didn't let them fall. He couldn't break down in front of her.
Not like this.
Not until he had at least tried to explain himself and what he had done.
Silence.
Whatever courage he had left, he forced it to the forefront as he finally lifted his tear-filled amber gaze to meet her ice blue eyes.
"I am so so sorry for what I did." He said, this time his voice did crack, and the tears that he had been holding back began to make their descent down his cheeks. "I was so desperate for my father's approval and to go back home that I- Spirits I'm so sorry Orora!"
Silence.
"Not a day went by when I didn't think about you or wished that you were with me." The words poured out of him.
From his lips.
His mind.
His heart.
His soul.
His very being.
"Spirits! Sometimes I missed you so much I could barley breath." He remembered those sleepless nights when his heart would physically ache at not having her near. "I mean I missed you so much that I actually started to see you everywhere I went. You would talk to me, give me advice and I thought I was going crazy but I didn't want it to stop. I didn't want to loose you." Though his voice quivered and broke, his gaze never did. It remained fixed upon his soulmate who continued to look at him.
In silence.
"But I did loose you after what I did. And I regretted that decision from the moment I made it." He paused, licking his lips before continuing, his body leaning towards her slightly as he did. "But I've changed now. I found out some things about myself. And its helped me realize why I've always felt so conflicted about my place in the world."
A slight breeze brought the salty sea air with it, while also allowing loose tendrils of her hair to brush against her face.
"And I realize I was wrong. I was wrong to think I could have my father's love back." He looked ashamed of himself, for even thinking he could have his father's love. That he deserved it. "You were right." Zuko continued, his voice and gaze earnest. "You were right about everything. I stood up to him and I told him everything." He shook his head.
"And I wasn't scared. Because of you." A look of gratitude crossed his features as he continued to look at her. "The thought of you and how you stood up to your father made me strong enough to face my own. Even when you weren't with me you were helping me." He was still crying, but the tears fell unnoticed.
Where her hands had been lying flat atop her thighs, they were now clenched into tight fists.
"Please believe me when I say that I'm done with my family. I am done trying to win back my honor and father's love. He never had any to give me in the first place." The realization, however horrible, was a reality he would have to live with.
"I am going to try and help defeat them so this war can end and everyone can have their lives back and leave in peace. I'm going to help Aang learn how to firebend, so he can defeat my father. Because I know that is the only way, the world....that you will be safe." Zuko knew that while his main focus should be to safeguard the entire world, Orora was his world.
He had to make sure she was safe. That she could never get hurt at the hands of his family.
"I-I don't expect you to forgive. Or to not be angry at me. I know you might even hate me." There was that bitter taste again. "But please believe me when I say that I am so sorry Orora. I am so so-so sorry."
Silence followed his deceleration, with the two teenagers just staring at one another. One having bared his heart, while the other struggled with her own heart.
"Please." He was begging her now. "Please Orora say something. Anything, please."
Silence.
Was this it then? Was she never going to speak to him?
How he could feel his heart begin to shatter physically was something he never understood.
"Please."
One last time.
His head hung in front of her.
He would beg her one last time.
                                           ————————–
If she had thought her emotions were a raging storm before, now they were a full blown hurricane. She still had questions.
A lot of questions.
But those would come later.
Right now she needed to make sure Zuko didn't deter from his decision. Because if his teaching Aang firebending could help save the world, then she could push aside her own feelings in favor of the greater good.
Or at least that was the lie she told herself.
Finally, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes before opening them again.
"Prove it." Those two words prompted Zuko to lift his head and look at her. "Prove to me," She forced herself to continue. "And everyone else that you have changed. That you won’t betray anyone like you did me and Uncle in Ba Sing Se." She saw him flinch at the reminder, but she continued.
"Teach Aang firebending and help us save the world."
She made no mention of her forgiving him. Or not being mad at him. Or not hating him.
Honestly, she just didn't have the energy to sort through her emotions right then. So, this would have to do.
But what she had said seemed to be the exact words Zuko needed to hear. He smiled in earnest. "I promise, I won't let you down Orora."
The girl pursed her lips, before simply nodding. Slowly, so as not to aggravate her injury she stood, with Zuko rising beside her, his arms raised slightly towards her, as if he were ready to catch her should she fall over.
But she didn't.
"Aang and the others will be at the Western Air Temple. I told them to wait for me there when I left them in the tunnels." She said, a hand resting atop her bandage. The burn was beginning to ache now, and it would be best if she laid back down. "We can leave in the morning."
With that Orora began to walk back to where their camp was.
Zuko stayed where he was, staring after her. He was just about to turn away when he stopped at the sound of her voice.
"Zuko?"
Hearing the sound of his name coming from her lips after so long had him standing completely still in utter shock. She had paused halfway towards her destination. Her shoulders were tense but she turned her head so she could look at him over her shoulder.
"Thank you. For saving me. Again. I-I owe you."
With that she walked away, leaving her string to flicker behind her.
An occurrence that was observed by Zuko.
And had a small flicker of hope to ignite within his chest.
                                           ————————–
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rorywritesjunk · 9 hours
Text
If my velocity starts to make you sweat Then just don't let go
Buggy asks to try something new and you're onboard with it.
Rating: NC-17, MDNI! Warning: Pegging, praise, dirty talk, aftercare, strap, Buggy gets a little unsure. No misuse of Devil Fruit powers! Use of baby, sweet heart, and good boy for Buggy. He wonders where you learned such vulgarity. Word Count: 1,898 A/N: Okay I was writing this just to get words out and then it turned into this and I decided hey, I meant to write something back in like, March or April for 400 followers and I put it to a vote which was author's choice and smut with Buggy, so it's pegging Buggy. And it can be read as either OPLA or anime. I also read a lot of smutty snippets lately so... yea.
Title comes from "Planetary (Go!)" by My Chemical Romance.
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Buggy wanted to try something new with you but honestly, he wasn't sure how to ask because what if you thought something was wrong with him? What if you laughed at him and made him feel bad because of it? Maybe you'd leave him because of it.
If asked, Buggy's side of the story is that he casually asked you, just brought it up to see how you felt about it while you two held hands and looked at each other with romance in your eyes, but your side of the story was him slamming his hands down on the table in the middle of dinner, thankfully just the two of you were there, while he nervously blurted out, "Willyoufuckme?"
And you, too confused by what he said, squinted at him for a moment, trying to replay the sentence in your head, before you were able to break apart the mushed sentence of four words.
"Oh!" Your face heated up just a bit while Buggy looked like he would rather the floor open up and swallow him whole instead of hear your answer.
"I was just-"
"We can try that, Buggy."
"I mean- wait, really?!" His voice changed key asking that. He wasn't expecting you to agree to it but there you were, smiling coyly at him across the table. "I mean, of course, why not? I suggested something new to try, of course, and I always have good ideas!"
You sat back in your seat, grinning at him. "When do you want this to happen?"
"Oh, you know, whenever." He shrugged, though internally he wanted it as soon as possible. He wanted you to get him on all fours in the bedroom, fucking the life out of him, scraping his knees on the floor while he begged for more. "Uh, we can schedule it-"
"After dinner?"
He didn't expect it so soon but he was nodding along in agreement to this.
~
Naked, kissing, the clothes discarded beside the bed as Buggy was on his back while you tended to him, fingers running through his hair as you two pressed your bodies together. Your hand moved between his legs, touching him, telling him to relax and that he was being so good for you. He was nervous but he knew you'd take care of him.
The harness you wore with the blue cock attached to it made him curious of when you even bought that thing. He asked when you were putting it on, loosening the fit to feel comfortable on your body.
"Oh, I picked it up a few weeks ago." You giggled. "Um, it was a set. Sometimes I use the dildo when you're busy and I get lonely."
Buggy frowned at that. Why did you have it when you could just ask him? Did you think he wasn't good enough? Did his feel weird or-
"Buggy, I've only used it twice." You told him. "Now, relax."
Now he was on his back as you pulled away from kissing him, eyes scanning his body as you started to grin. He swallowed nervously, wondering what you were thinking about, as your hand brushed over his stomach before reaching for the bottle of lube beside him.
"I think I want you riding me, Buggy." You said casually as you unscrewed the cap. "Hm? How does that sound? You can fuck yourself on my cock while I watch you. You'll look so pretty."
That sounded amazing to him.
You took your time prepping him, praising him, letting him know how good he was for you while taking just your fingers. It felt weird to him at first but he relaxed. While one hand worked to get him ready your other hand was touching his body, fingertips grazing his skin, brushing over his stomach, chest, back down to his cock you were purposefully neglecting at first. He let out a pitiful whine when you did that, hips bucking up towards you before you pushed them back gently.
"Easy, Buggy." You murmured as you pressed a second finger in with more lube, watching his face for any sign that you needed to stop. After a few pumps, you added a third, admiring how he looked on his back, hair spread out along the blankets while his legs were spread for you, panting softly as you gave his cock a few strokes.
"Please-" He whimpered. "Need you."
"I know." You murmured as you pulled your hand back from him. "Do you want to be on top?"
Buggy shook his head. He wasn't sure he would be able to. You nodded as you added a generous amount of lube to your cock, keeping an eye on him as you positioned yourself between his legs. His face was flushed, a little sweaty, and he was watching you through half closed eyes as you pressed the tip to him.
You were slow, noticing the resistance at first, but you spoke to him still, praising him, watching him as you pressed your hips forward, allowing yourself to sink into him slowly. Buggy didn't know what to make of this new sensation other than there was a fullness he'd never felt before. He wanted to ask you something he suddenly felt your body close to his and you were grinning down at him in triumph, your thighs touching him now.
"Look at how well you took my cock, baby." You murmured lovingly to him as you reached up to brush his hair out of his face. "Does it feel good?"
He didn't know what to make of the words coming out of your mouth. Was this something you had also been wanting? Have him on his back with his legs spread wide for you like he had done to you so many times before? You pulled your hips back just a bit before pushing forward again. He let out a grunt and shut his eyes at the sensation, thinking maybe he could get used to this.
"I'm going to have you screaming for me, Buggy." You murmured, repeating the motions, making sure he was comfortable as you moved. He could only nod, words escaping him, as his body moved with yours. "I want you cumming on my cock like the good boy you are. You're always good for me."
"Oh fuck." He whimpered at your words. You were still grinning at him, a feral expression as you gradually picked up the pace of thrusts, how far you pulled out before pushing back into him. Your eyes looked down, yourself letting out a moan at the sight of his body taking your cock so well.
"You're so beautiful." You told him, your attention on your cock now as you started to fuck him. "You won't be able to walk for a while after I'm done with you, Buggy."
Where did you learn to talk like that? He never spoke to you in such a filthy, controlling way. You managed to push his knees towards his chest, his moans and whimpers like music to your ears, and when your cock brushed over that sweet spot inside him, he was crying out for more.
"You're so good for me, baby, look how you're taking it." You moaned for him as he looked up at you with wide, watery eyes. The sensation was almost too much for him. "You feel so good on my cock, squeezing me like that."
His brain was to jumbled to even think of a response, all he could do was moan and whine, the blue cock brushing against that sweet spot with every thrust. You were hunched over him, trying to keep his knees to his chest, the height and size difference making it a little difficult. You reached for him, caressing his cheek, your thumb brushing against his bottom lip. He looked at you with hazy eyes, letting out the occasional whimper.
"You're so beautiful, Buggy, look at you." You sighed, smiling down at him as you angled your thrusts, abusing that sweet spot now with each thrust, hearing his cries and pleas for more. "Does my cock feel good for you, sweetheart? Should I cum in you, fill you up, let everyone know you're mine?"
He nodded, he liked the sound of that, his brain was fuzzy from the pleasure, he wondered if he was going to cum without you even touching his cock. At this point Buggy didn't care what you'd say to him, he just wanted you to keep fucking him.
Your hand brushed over his cock teasingly, grinning at his pathetic whimper at the neglect. You didn't want to be too mean to him, you did care for him after all, and he was being so good for you so you took pity, taking hold of him and starting to stroke him as you thrusted your hips. He wouldn't last long, he was starting to pant just a bit, his hips jerking as he tried to fuck your hand.
"Such a good boy for me." You praised, feeling his cock twitch in your hand. "I'll keep fucking you until you're a screaming mess, baby, until you can't walk. You'll be feelin' this for days." You kept stroking him, grinning at him, squeezing his cock carefully. "Cum for me, baby, let me know how good you feel."
How could he disobey you after you'd been so good for him? It only took a few more strokes on his cock, your own hitting that spot inside him that had him suddenly seeing stars as he came, letting out a strangled and surprised cry of pleasure as he made a mess on himself.
You waited a moment as he came down before pulling out. He hated that feeling of being done, what if you decided once was enough and you didn't want to do it again? What if you were disgusted by his request and left him? His post-orgasm haze had him feeling weird and he looked up at you with uncertainty.
"Oh, you did so good, Buggy." You told him as you removed the harness and tossed it aside on the bed. "So good for me." You helped him lower his legs, stretching them out on the bed before laying beside him and pulling him into his arms. "You took my cock so well, I'm so happy, baby." You peppered kisses over his face, murmuring the praise over and over again. "I need to get you cleaned up when you're ready, okay, and you're unavailable for the crew for the rest of the night so you can rest."
It was a little worrisome how little he was talking to you, but you figured his brain was still foggy. This was new for him and you, it was something he needed a moment to process. You kissed his temple as he turned in your arms to wrap his arms around you, wanting the closeness, as he tucked his face against your neck.
"Canwedothatagain?"
Much like at dinner, it took you a moment to take in what he said. You chuckled softly and hugged him close, kissing his forehead before trying to wrestle the blankets out from under you to wrap around him.
"We can do that, yea." You assured him. "Only if you're a good boy for me, of course."
Oh, Buggy could be a good boy for you. He'd make sure of it.
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sunflower-lilac42 · 19 hours
Text
𝗳𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗶𝘇𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 "𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗺𝘆" | 𝘤𝘣98 ♔
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➪ summary: for the first time, y/n and connor play against each other and it doesn't go as well as she hoped it would
➪ warnings: idk, none i think
➪ word count: 2.9k
➪ file type: fic
➪ sunny's notes: this is actually so bad, why did i think this was good when i made it
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Sitting on the bus, y/n looked at her phone, biting her fingernail. She was nervous, beyond nervous if you were to ask her. She wasn’t ready for anyone to find out, they had gone two years without anyone noticing and it could be revealed within seconds.
“You okay?” Luke sat down next to her, throwing his arm on the back of her seat. 
Y/n and Luke were the rookie two on the Devils, well, because they were both rookies. She was traded from the Canadiens not long after she was drafted, why? She would never know, but she couldn’t care now. 
“Nothing, why would something be wrong? Do I have a look on my face? Am I shaking?”
“No, but you’re talking fast and rambling.” Luke pointed out, his eyebrow-raising.
“Oh. I promise I’m fine.”
“Bull shit.” 
“Well, you know with Nico and Jack out, I’m just a little nervous about playing by myself.”
When y/n first started practicing with the team and even through her debut, she had always played with Jack or Nico. It wasn’t a conscious thing that Lindy had done but somehow she was always on the ice with one of them. Obviously, when Nico got injured, she had played with Jack but when he got hurt during the Blues game she was nervous. She hadn’t played without them since and the thought of that was terrifying.
What made it worse, is that she was playing her boyfriend, the 2023 first overall pick. What made that worse, was that no one knew they were dating. Everyone had been raving, the past two first-overall picks were all playing on the ice.
“You’ll be okay, promise.”
“Y/n/n! Luke!” 
The girl turned her head to see Dawson standing at the front of the bus and they realized they were all alone, “Time for practice you two.”
“Ugh, I don’t want to.” Luke dragged her off the bus, following behind Dawson. 
Her phone rang as she went into the bathroom and she answered it, “Hi?”
“Hey babe.”
“Oh, hi Con!”
“Are you here yet?” Y/n nodded her head, forgetting that her boyfriend couldn’t see her, “Hello?”
“Yes, sorry. Luke and I just got off the bus.”
“I heard something about us filming a video or something, I don’t really know.”
The girl groaned, “Of course. Why can’t we-”
“Y/n/n hurry up!” Both she and Connor stopped talking at the voice, “Give me a second!” 
Whoever was behind the door, she couldn’t tell, walked away and y/n sat her phone down on speaker as she got changed, the two catching up. When she was done, the two said goodbye and she walked out, startled to see Luke standing there, “Oh!”
“So, who was that?” 
“Who was what?”
“The guy on your phone, dumbass.”
“Hey! Unnecessary roughness.” That had become an inside joke with her and the team. Whenever they were at practice and one of the guys accidentally shoved her a little too hard, she would always stop and call it ‘unnecessary roughness’. This happened both on and off the ice. 
“I’ll take your clothes, you go find your way to the ice.” Luke grabbed y/n’s clothes that she had changed out of to the clubhouse.
‘Find your way to the ice’ was an easy task, she had been to the United Center plenty of times. However, she purposely got lost in hopes of running into Connor, which was successful. She walked down the hallways, running into staff and other Hawks players who kindly waved at her. When she took a brief look at her phone, going to text the group chat that she was lost she ran into a chest.
“Connor!”
Connor looked down at the girl and smiled, “Hi.” She gave him a tight hug, some tears slipping out.
He pulled away, his smile turning into a frown. He placed his hands on her cheeks, wiping the stray tears, “What’s wrong, baby?”
She shook her head, “Nothing. I’m just so happy to see you. I haven’t seen you in months.” Connor wrapped his arms around his girlfriend once more, practically squeezing the life out of her, “It’s okay, I promise.”
They continued to hug for a few moments and when they finally pulled apart, y/n’s tears were still on her face. She went to dry her face off when a loud voice echoed down the hallway, “Hey!”
The two turned to see Jesper and Timo standing there, faces plastered with anger as they looked at their teammate/little sister with tears falling down her face. The two walked towards them and separated them, “Guys? You okay?”
Both their faces softened at y/n’s voice and looked down at her, “Shouldn’t we be asking you two that?”
“What do you mean?” Connor spoke up, his arms crossing over his chest. Now, the Devils and Hawks were not rivalries. They had no affiliation with them and only played them twice a season, once at home and over in Chicago, so really the two shouldn’t have a reason to be mad at the two talking. If anything, they should be glad that their girl was making conversation with other NHL players besides themselves, especially one who was the same age as her, but Timo and Jesper’s faces tensed up at the 18-year-old’s voice, “I don’t know Bedard why don’t you tell us why our girl is crying? What did you say to her?”
Y/n went to defend her boyfriend but the two weren’t having it. Timo dragged the girl away from their teammate and Connor as she tried to get through to the two men. None of them listened once again and she couldn’t do much but give up. 
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
Throughout practice, y/n took her frustration out on her teammates and the puck. The boys exchanged looks with each other as practice went on, having no explanation for why she was acting like this. Lindy was confused as well and as soon as y/n ‘accidentally’ shoved Jesper into the boards, which also didn’t bode well with her since Jesper was 5’10” and weighed 175 pounds. As she ran into him, she tripped over both his and her skates, causing her to go flying to the boards as well. 
She let out a yelp in pain as she landed on her arm. It wasn’t anything serious but the initial action of her landing on it caused a big enough ache through her arm for her to verbally react to it. 
Connor had been watching from the stadium seats and winced when he saw it happen. He went to run down when he remembered Jesper’s words.
‘If I ever see you near her again, I wouldn’t mind getting a suspension.’
Sure it was a little harsh, but y/n was his teammate, his little sister, of course, he was going to be protective and so was everyone else on the team. 
The whole team crowded around y/n, the trainer pushing their way through the hoard of hockey players to assess the girl’s injury. As soon as they went to touch her arm, she shoved them off, “I’m fine.”
The trainer nodded their head, “I understand that but I still need to-”
Y/n got up and threw her gloves on the ground, “I said I’m fine!” She skated a little ways away and started moving her arm around, “See, I’m fine. I could punch someone if I fucking wanted to.” 
She continued her skate and got off the ice, heading for the locker room. She didn’t mean for her words to come out so harsh, nor did she mean to swear, but she was mad. Who were they to tell her who she could and couldn’t be around? They weren’t her keeper. 
Connor met her in front of the visiting clubhouse, “Are you okay?”
She nodded her head, having cooled off from her walk and it wasn’t him that she was mad at, “I’m gonna be so trash tomorrow.”
“Hey don’t say that, y/n/n. You’re going to be great!”
“But, Nico and Jack-”
“Nico and Jack have nothing to do with your performance. Sure they might enhance it, but you control how you play. Tomorrow you are going to kick ass, as much as I don’t want you to- not like that! I want you to do well it’s just that if you do well that means-”
Y/n cut him off with a kiss, “I know what you meant, Connie.”
Connor blushed and nodded his head. The two heard footsteps coming their way and immediately split up, heading back in their respective directions. 
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
Throwing on her suit, y/n got ready to head to the UC. She slicked her hair back into a ponytail and put her heels on. She headed down to the lobby of the hotel and waited in the corner, away from anyone else. She hadn’t talked to anyone since yesterday’s practice and she wasn’t planning on talking to anyone until she absolutely had to. 
She sat at the back of the bus instead of sitting next to Luke like she always did. She put her headphones in and listened to her holiday music, she didn’t care what anyone else said, holiday music made her happy. She could hear the quiet conversations around her through her headphones even though she tried to drown them out. 
Placing her headphones back into her pocket and stood up ready to get off the bus. She was stopped as soon as she was about to get off the bus by Vitek, who handed her a cup of coffee. Vitek was one of the players that she could never be mad at, he was adorable and no one could be mad at him. 
“Thanks, V.” She gave him a grateful smile and he returned one right back, letting her get off the bus. She ignored the cameras flashing as she walked to the clubhouse, following whoever had gotten off the bus in front of her. 
The team all went through their pregame rituals, getting ready for the game. No one attempted to talk to y/n, mostly because she was always nervous before games and any slight conversation made her even more nervous. 
During pregame, as they were practicing, everyone could tell something was off. The Devils knew something was off, Lindy knew something was off, the Hawks knew something was off, and even the fans knew something was off. They chalked it up to just the absence of Nico and the recent absence of Jack, they had lost their two-star players without much time apart.
Y/n stood between Dawson and Nathan during the National Anthem, making eye contact with Connor since he was ironically directly across from her. They slowly got through warmups and soon it was time for the game to start. 
Having faith, and assuming that she had a complete reset and she was back to normal, Lindy sent her out for the beginning face-off. She wanted to protest but she knew she couldn’t. She skated toward center ice and faced her boyfriend. The two sighed before bending down into position. Let’s just say, it was not a good start for the Devils. 
It was almost two minutes into the game and Taylor Hall had scored already. Y/n wasn’t on the ice when it happened, having changed lines just beforehand. She sighed amongst the others on the benches and leaned over and whispered into Toffoli's ear, “Can you get a penalty for checking your own teammate?”
Toffoli laughed, causing her to let one out as well. The bench looked at each with smiles on their faces, glad to see their girl smiling once again. 
Over halfway into the period and y/n had done jack-shit. No goals, no assists, no nothing. It was like she was invisible out there, well not really. She had gotten a few hits which was no big deal but normally, those wouldn’t have happened. She would have dodged them completely or softened the blow a little bit, but they just happened. 
When Dawson scored his first goal of the season she was on the ice with him. She skated fast and hugged him, so excited for him. That was the only other time she was happy during that period. Every other time she came off the ice she was so close to chucking her stick into a board or the bench itself, she was pissed off. She wanted to prove something to everyone and herself that she could do something without Nico or Jack, and right now, the only ones she was proving right were the ones who said she was trash from the start. 
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
During the first intermission, the Devils walked back somewhat happy, they were leading 2-1, Dawson had his first goal and so did Max Willman. Lindy spoke briefly about the first period and kept making little jabs towards y/n. None that were hurtful but ones that tried to ignite a spark in her for the second. 
That didn’t happen at all. The second period was worse than the last if that was even possible. Everyone could tell she was frustrated. Connor noticed it the most when she was on the ice with him. Her whole body was more tense, her shot was weak and floppy, and her passing was not on point. 
The second intermission was when Lindy stormed into the clubhouse, “What was that, y/l/n?!” 
The team snapped their heads up at their coach, they hadn’t heard him so mad at y/n before. 
“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”
“Damn right, it won’t happen again. You’re playing like shit.”
“Jeez, I know I suck, but you don’t have to frame it that way.” Y/n’s eyes watered up. 
Lindy knew she could play better, he was determined to make it that way, “You have to man up. You think Hischier gets off all high and dry when he plays like you are? You think Hughes is going to sit on his ass after a game when he did nothing all game? No.”
She looked at the team, looking for some support but she knew she didn’t deserve it, “You have got to put your personal issues aside, this team is what matters now. I don’t care who’s hanging out with who, who’s kissing who, who’s fighting who, I don’t care. You all get your heads in the game and get out there and play some hockey.”
The team was speechless, “Do you hear me?”
“Yes, coach/sir.”
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
Coming back for the third period, y/n was nervous, more nervous than before. Yet it seemed like Lindy’s speech worked. 
4:35 into the third period, y/n scored. John assisted and the team was elated for the girl. They patted her head and hugged her before she skated off to high-five the bench. And from the other side of the ice, even though his opponent just scored, Connor held a smile on his face, he was proud of his girl. 
Although, that wasn’t enough for y/n. If she was going to prove herself, she was going to prove herself. The team briefly faltered when Donato got his goal but right before the game ended, y/n got herself another goal, unassisted this time. 
Everyone was proud of her, especially Nico who was watching from home and Jack would be too when he was able to watch it, not knowing where he was at this moment. After the game everyone got changed back into their suits, doing some post-game interviews beforehand.
They wanted to celebrate but they weren’t going to go without y/n. They were going to go out for dinner but she declined nicely, saying she had other plans. The team looked confused as they stood outside talking with one another, but when someone all of a sudden came behind their teammate and picked her up and spun her around, the realization grew on their faces, Jesper and Timo becoming embarrassed.
They let the two have their moment for a little bit before someone cleared his throat, Luke. 
“Yes, Lukas?”
“Ooo, full name bud.”
Luke glared at everyone, “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?”
“I think they’re more than friends.” Dawson snickered with Nathan as they stood behind everyone else.
“Right, guys this is Connor, Connor this is the team.”
“You watch yourself, Bedard.”
“Okay, we’re leaving, bye everyone!”
The two ran off before anyone could say anything else. They got into Connor’s car and drove to their new favorite restaurant, Culver’s.
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
•❅ 《 𝘉𝘖𝘕𝘜𝘚 𝘚𝘊𝘌𝘕𝘌 》 ❅•
“I don’t want to go.”
“I know, sweetheart, but think of it this way. The 22 I’m in Columbus, you’re in Detroit. I’ll drive there after the game and we can spend some of Thursday together before our games on Friday. And then about a month later we can visit for Christmas.”
“You’re gonna be so exhausted Connie.” 
“You’re worth it.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Connor gave y/n a kiss on the forehead, before kissing her cheek and her nose. She leaned in to kiss him on his lips yet was interrupted by a loud voice, “Y/n! You’re gonna miss our flight!”
She rolled her eyes, “How do they always manage to interrupt us?”
Connor shrugs and smiles, “Go on.”
“But would me missing the flight really be a bad thing?”
“Y/n!!”
“I’m coming, jeez!”
Connor kissed her and ushered her off, “Love you!”
“Love you too!”
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thedrotter · 1 month
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cw blood (kind of? in different colors that dont make it look quite like it), organs
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warm up + greyscale screen filter challenge !!! featuring yuuichi eating normal human (in origin) food😁😁😁
#re:kinder#fanart#yuuichi mizuoka#he was meant to be eating watermelon#but as usual my brain felt silly goofy and decided to twist it for the lols#havent done rendering since i was 15 have mercy#since this is a warm up there are. more mistakes than usual but in my defense i forgot how to draw#michael how did you forget how to draw you were drawing JUST 4 DAYS AGO#ocurre y acontece the yet to be diagnosed and determined hand condition has been acting up in those days i have not drawn#AND SOMEHOW IT MESSED WITH MY HAND TO EYE COORDINATION it got rid of my inner calibration settings ig#but since being out of it for days in pain made me sad I WAS NOT ABOUT TO BE STOPPRD FROM DRAWING YUUICHI FOR THE MILLIONTJ TIME#it would have been a bad idea to let myself rust even longer because i dont know if unspecified undetermined condition will act up tomorrow#so irs best to draw and warm up and set back them inner calibration settings#IT WORKED AND THIS DRAWING TURNED OJT BLUE😭😭😭#OF ALL THINGS I DID NOT THINK IT WOULD TURN OUT BLUE whenever i did look at the color wheel i swear. i was on the warm side#placed greyscale filter on computer so i wouldnt see color and painted like that tossing random colors AND YET IT TJRNED OUT UNIFIED#which. welcome results but i cannot believe it is blue and green. i swear whenver i looked at thay cplored wheel it was up in the warm side#well most of the time i did not look at it so it makes sense i didnt realize but i seriously did not think it would look as coherent#doesnt have any deep meaning or anytjing i just found random referenxe and flew from there#but interpret as you will if you wanna
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art · 1 month
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Creator Spotlight: @themetalhiro
Hi, I’m Metal! I’m a freelance artist from good ol’ New Jersey. My favorite things to work with are a lot of bright colors, exaggerated poses, and candid scenarios. I try to farm sensible chuckles whenever I can, so I’m also big into comics. I love making them about my life, and the media I’m into, and one day I’d like to publish my own series!  Thank you to everyone who has gotten me this far!!
Check out Metal's interview below!
Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?
I guess so! It’s funny, I don’t remember a single time in my life that I wasn’t drawing as a hobby… somewhere in middle school (a little late, I know.) I put the pieces together that animated movies were made by artists, and that it wasn’t just for fun, they were paid to do it. The moment I discovered people could be paid to make art, I decided I would do that, too. Now I’m here!
How has your style developed over the years?
I think the best way to answer this would be with an example! Over the last few years, I have made more of an effort to draw more intentionally, which sounds silly. Now, I put more thought into my poses and step out of my comfort zone with shape language and composition. I had a phase where I drew everyone with a huge, perfectly circular head and no nose. That definitely did not lend much variety...
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Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?
Ack! I’m so terrible at history! I’d love to give a well-thought-out answer about fine artists of old, but I don't think we’d have much in common… Most artists I admire and who have driven me forward creatively are the people behind comics I’ve read. Andrew Hussie, Bryan Lee O’Malley, Eiichiro Oda... these guys have inspired me greatly and had a heavy influence in developing my art style and sense of humor. I’d love to ask them questions about their processes and upcoming projects. I think it would make for an entertaining night!
Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?
Outside of pure aesthetics like searing bright colors, layered clothing, and loud noises…. the best and most inspiring moments in my life were those surrounded by friends and loved ones! I cherish the hell out of memories of hanging around in fun locations, trying weird food together, and impromptu midnight walks... so I try my best to capture that atmosphere and my own memories in my work when I can, even if I’m imposing fictional characters on top of them. That’s always the core of it.
What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?
I would never permanently refuse a medium, but every time I pick up clay, I’m like a baby using its hands for the first time. Absolutely dreadful. If one day I could make and paint a figurine like the ones I admire in videos, that would be awesome... But for now, I’m not counting on it.
How do you want to evolve as a creator?
I’ve had an absolute blast drawing fanart over the years, and it’s certainly played a massive role in my growth as an artist. But my dream has always been to publish my own stories for y'all to enjoy! I have lots of worlds I want to introduce to you before I’m old and gray. I want to get faster, work harder, and get better at drawing interesting settings so I can get the wheels turning as soon as possible. I also want to stop avoiding the color blue like a coward.
What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating art that you know now?
Pay your taxes quarterly. Tablets will break at the exact moment you need them most, so have a spare. Wear your blue light glasses. You’re going to need to wear a brace on every joint on the right side of your body. It can be lonely sitting at your desk all day. The car on the side of the road that costs $1000 cash….. don’t trust it!!!
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Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
@cranity—They use absolutely beautiful colors and weighty line work. Everything looks so sharp and clean! I wanna put it all up on my wall!
@vewn—Their ability to crank out quality short films and illustrations packed with detail is incredible. The off-kilter perspective they use really sells disorientation and catches your attention like nothing else.
@nelnal—They have absolutely banger character designs again and again, I can’t believe one person’s mind can come up with so many creative ideas!
@jinx88kc—They have a beautiful and recognizable style, and the way they incorporate animation into their illustrations sometimes is SO cool!
Thanks for stopping by, Metal! For more of Metal’s work, follow their Tumblr, @themetalhiro! If you haven't seen their Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here!
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lehguru · 10 months
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CALLING THEM MY LOVE + ONE PIECE MEN
characters: law, sabo, ace, kid, killer, bartolomeo
warnings: not proofread, some might be a lil ooc so sorry!
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trafalgar law raises an eyebrow at you. "did you sleep today, my love?" you murmured, hugging him from behind and pressing a soft kiss on the nape of his neck. 'hm?' he looked at you with surprise in his eyes. he turned around and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead 'yeah, i did'. in secret, he would think about that all the time and smile to himself.
sabo adores to use pet names to call you. honey, sweetheart, baby, angel, love, anything is fair game for him; he always says these things without being phased. but whenever you compliment him or use pet names to address him, he simply can't take it. "my love, where did you put my coat?". after you said that out loud, your shared place went completely silent. looking for your boyfriend, you found him in the kitchen, his eyes wide and focusing on a random spot on the wall. you approached him and his head snapped towards you, almost startling you. 'what did you just call me?', before you could even reply, he hugged you tighly and started pressing a lot of kisses on your face. 'my love!'
portgas d.ace smirks when these words leave your lips. 'can you repeat that for me?' he says, trying to hide in his voice the fact that he heard you loud and clear. "don't forget your hat, love". instead of picking up the hat from your hands, he simply stood in front of you; the widest smile slowly creeping up on his face. he held your face with both of his hands, his palms engulfing your cheeks. 'i love you, so much', he murmured so softly you almost didn't hear it.
"aren't you tired, my love?" eustass kid barely acknowledges you and growls softly at your question. if it was anyone else, they would take that as a obvious 'get away', but you stood still as the man took off his boots. "aren't you tired from running around my mind all day?" he groaned loudly and hid his eyes with his hand. you jumped on his bare back and kissed his skin. "i love you, grumpy." surprising you, he softly held your arm with his calloused hand. 'i know, my love.'
killer doesn't know how to react at any affection you show towards him. "do you want me to brush your hair, my love?", his baby blue eyes go wide and he almost starts choking on his own spit. 'l-love?' he reached out and held your hand, in a way that almost seemed like he was afraid to break you, 'pet names... do you like them too?'
bartolomeo starts dramatically crying when the words leave your lips. "have you seen luffy's new bounty, my love?", that phrase was like a bomb that you simply dropped on his lap and acted like it was nothing. his cheeks turned red and he started crying, trying to act like your words did not affect him. as he did a little dance, he watched you place the new bounty poster on the wall and he felt himself fall a little harder for you.
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2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used in them belong to their respective creators!!
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clockwayswrites · 8 months
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Danny & Constantine, Orange, Butterscotch Ripple
@imbreonix Prompt fill set #4
It started out as a joke that turned into an actual event: Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day. It sounded absurd, of course it did. The Justice League was hardly work and certainly not a social club, but once it had been said people started to actually think about it. More and more of the heroes were taking on mentorship rolls for the next generation. While the heroes, of course, tried their best to provide what their mentees needed, they were still grown, experienced heroes and their sidekicks were kids.
Kids who lived a life that most could never understand.
Eventually it have been talked about enough in passing and over rushed meals and before meetings that it ended up on the agenda.
“Robin believes it would be beneficial for the younger heroes to know others in the same positions as themselves,” Batman had explained, as if that answered anything. The Big Bat wouldn’t even clarify who Robin was.
But there they were, Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day. It actually was a pretty nice event with snacks, drinks, and several enthusiastic sidekicks. It turned out Robin was Batman’s sidekick.
“Partner,” Robin insisted boldly, whenever the term sidekick was used within his hear range (which was disturbingly good).
The kid was the very opposite of Batman: bright, personable, and always in motion. Flash was more than a little concerned how quickly Robin and Kid Flash seemed hit it off. “They’re plotting something.”
“Hn,” was Batman’s reply, though he was watching the two whispering sidekicks too.
All in all it was a cheerful success.
It made John’s skin crawl. He jiggled the unlit cigarette in his fingers. He didn’t do social events, not outside of bars, and he really, really didn’t want to be here.
“We can just go back to the House,” a small, nervous voice suggested hopefully from behind John.
That was the thing, though, he wasn’t here for his own sake.
“No, we can’t,” John said with a sigh.
“We really can, though. We haven’t even talked to anyone. I bet they haven’t even noticed we’re here—”
“John! I did not think you would be attending,” Wonder Woman said as she approached, a smile in place. A good chunk of the founding members trailed after her.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, well,” John said with a little shrug. He didn’t admonish the kid for cussing, he didn’t have a leg to stand on there, but by Superman’s puzzled face the Big Blue had clearly heard it. “Figured I had better bring the kid.”
“The kid?” Hal repeated incredulously.
John reminded himself he really shouldn’t punch his teammates.
“Yeah, the kid,” John said. He stepped aside to reveal Danny who had been hiding behind him. “Geist, Justice League, Justice League, Poltergeist.”
“Um, who, Constantine?” Flash asked, sounding nervous.
John looked to his right, which for all appearances, was an empty spot of air. “Seriously, kid?”
“Sorry,” Danny whispered.
“It’s okay, kid,” John said, holding back a sigh. The kid was sensitive to that sort of thing, so John had been trying. (He still messed up plenty, but he was trying.) John looked back the Justice Leaguers and shrugged. “Ghost. Visibility is like that sometimes.”
“Ah,” Diana said with a sage nod. John admired the woman for how nothing seemed to phase her. She simply looked to where John had been looking and smiled. “Hello, Poltergeist. Welcome to Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day.”
“Partner!” a kid dressed like a damn traffic light called from across the room where he was talking to who was clearly a mini Flash.
“Oh,” Danny said. (It was clearly weirding out some of the heroes to hear Danny but not see him.) “I’m not… John doesn’t let me help that much? I don’t know if I count as a sidekick.”
“That’s because last time you tagged along you went intangible and fell through a bridge, kid,” John grumbled and then immediately felt bad. “You know we’re working on it.”
“Yeah,” Danny mumbled.
John couldn’t see Danny, not any more than the others, but he could picture the way the kid would be scuffing his toe on the floor, head down as he rubbed at the back of his neck.
John sighed. “Ain’t your fault kid, powers take time to master.”
“Robin,” Batman called.
Immediately the tiny traffic light was literately bounding across the space to stand next to Batman. The kid smiled up at the Big Bat like the man had hung the moon.
“Yes, B?”
“This,” Batman said, nodding to the empty space, “is Poltergeist. He came with Constantine.”
“Oh,” Robin said. He spun to face the spot of air and held out his hand without hesitation. “Come, Kid Flash and I are— um,” Robin shot Batman a look, “talking. You can join us! I bet you will be really useful!”
Flash mouthed the word ‘useful’ with a terrified look on his face, but no one actually said anything while Robin just stood there, smiling, with his hand out. And then Robin’s grin impossibly widened, his hand closed around nothing, and he took off across the room.
“…anyone else worried about that?” John asked after a moment.
“So worried,” Flash said.
“Hn,” Batman added.
“Right then. I need a glass of shitty punch to spike,” John said and abandoned his teammates to find the refreshments. Thank the gods, the fuckers, for hip flasks.
-
“I live with a ghost now, Bats, you’ve got to up your skills if you want to sneak up on me anymore,” John said before taking another sip of his much improved punch.
Batman stepped up into the corner of John’s vision, which felt like such a Bat thing to do, so John felt the placement was very purposeful. John wouldn’t complain, it let him watch Batman without taking his his eyes off where Danny was sitting with Robin, Kid Flash, and Wonder Girl. Danny was pretty see through, but he was slowly becoming more visible the longer he spent in the company of the other teen heroes.
“How long have you had him?” Batman asked.
John snorted. “That’s what you go with? Not how it works to fuck a ghost?”
Hal and Aquaman weren’t as quiet as they thought they were, but maybe that was on purpose. Maybe they had wanted John to hear. He just hoped the kids hadn’t. He might not have a clean mouth, but even he had limits.
“He doesn’t have to be your blood to be your son,” Batman said in that certain way of his.
It had John finally glancing over at Batman. It was a lot to admit and John hated to be on uneven grounds. “How long have you had yours?”
No one would ever believe him, but John could swear that Batman almost smiled.
“Nearly five years.”
John hummed and took another sip of the punch. “Only six months, not even. And he’s not my son. Kid deserves better than me as a da.”
“They always deserve better,” Batman said, his voice a low rumble that John swore he could feel in his battered bones. “We just have to try to be better.”
“Yeah, well,” John said with a bitter chuckle. “I’m not you, Bats, I don’t think I have better in me.”
“Yes you do, you’re here, after all,” Batman pointed out.
John swallowed and looked back the kid, his kid. Danny was almost solid now. His white hair floated as he threw back his head in laughter at something Robin had said.
“Yeah… yeah I am.”
---
AN: So. So. This has gotten away from me. I blame Moku. So much blame. I can't promise I'll continue it but there is... there is a good bit of plotting TO continue it. It would be after I get done with City Pigeons Bleed Green though, as that's my current family feels fic.
If it gets continued we have a John/Bruce tired dads with issues slow burn fuck buddies to lovers, Danny and Dick being friends (and family), canon divergence, Tim joins the Bat family early, Bats with magic (and the world should fear them), and Alfred's judgemental eyebrow.
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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months
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DC x DP fic idea: Cave Boy
Danny Fenton is a lot of things, but good under pressure is not one of them. He didn't mean to be stranded in an unknown universe after playing around with his parents' Specter Speeder in the Ghost Zone and losing control of it. He didn't mean to find shelter in the strange cave systems under the city Danny crashlanded in. He didn't mean to step on any bat and bird costume-wearing toes.
All he was trying to do was fix the ship he arrived in with stolen and repurposed technology from all across the city. He also didn't take anything that wasn't in a garbage can so he couldn't even be acussed of thief.
Danny barely even allowed himself to be spotted, only going out at night to avoid regular citizens. Danny was a very considerate dimensional visitor compared to the Ghosts that came to Amity Park.
He spent hours exploring the caves as a human, but whenever he felt like it was time to go back, he shifted into his ghost form and floated upwards until he was above the ground. Sometimes he find himself far away from city limits othertimes he be right under a bank or a apparement complex.
It was an exciting, if a little rough, life. He occasionally found food in the garbage, and while it was disgusting, it was better than nothing. Thankfully, his halfa status allowed him to go longer without meals, sleep, and even breathing. It's just a bit hard to keep track of time since he rarely sees the sun, and he doesn't exactly have a clock nearby, but he sure it's been at least three months when he finds the bat and bird costume wearing people.
Danny is minding his own business, having just found a primarily intact toaster that would have the perfect wiring for the Speeder's temperature-controlling unit, when he mistakenly take a right on the third turn instead of a left.
It wouldn't usually be a problem, as he could just float to the topside and find his way to his little shelter/shop, but he had unknowingly tripped motion detectors. Danny had continued on his merry way, just starting to realize he was lost, when out of the shadows a man in a gaint bat costume leaped at him.
He yelp, barely dropping out of a nasty-looking jab, bending his back from the elbow aimed at his face and only through his ghost reflexes able to jump over the leg swipe.
"Who are you!?" The man growled "how did you find this place?"
"Dude, I live here!" Danny gasped, throwing himself to the ground to avoid what he knew was a jujitsu grab. "What you doing here?!"
He doesn't get a answering seeing as a bo staff of all things slams into the back of his head. He hits the ground just as his attacker says.
"Good job Red Robbin"
"Yummmmm" Danny mutters word association too strong not to.
When he wakes, he finds himself tucked in a medical cot inside a glass cell. He is still inside the caves but somewhere he's never seen. It's filled with technological advances that has his mouth watering just looking at them.
His hands twitch with the urge to break everything apart and tinker. He's a Fenton through and through.
He would have enjoyed the scenery- especially the gaint computer that was just calling his name- except various people in costumes were standing around his cell studying him like a animal in a zoo.
"Oh, ugh, hi," Danny says to the man in the giant red helmet. He gets no response so he tries to get a reaction from the others. It yields the same results. "Okay. So ugh is this a cult thing? Cause I really don't want to be part of whatever is happening here"
"What is your name?" The man dressed like a Bat demands and well crude if this is a cult thing Danny doesn't want them knowing his name. Either as human or as a ghost.
So he thinks of the most boring name he can think of, wrestling his ghost to make his body language as human as possible as he says "my name is Bruce"
There is a sharp intake of breath to his left, which causes Danny to look at a man wearing blue. That man has his face pressed against the glass, staring at Danny with a wide, manic smile. Even though the white lens of the blue man's mask hides his eyes, he knows they are drinking in Danny's features.
"look at him! He's adorable!" The blue man gushes and the other teenagers all nod in agreement.
"Super cute," the girl in purple agrees stepping closer to peer at Danny.
"A bit odd to see so much emotion on that face but he really is cute." the one holding a bo staff adds.
"He is weak." A boy sneers, "Hardly deserving of the blood in his veins."
"Lay off Demon Brat" The guy with the red helmet says, "He's just a civilian."
Now, Danny did not like those comments.
What if this is a cult thing but not a ghost cult like he orginally thought? What if it's a creepy sex thing? Or Cannibals? Or a secret fight club where they would force him to partake in death battles?
Whatever the case may be, they could not know he's from a different dimension.
"Bruce," the man dressed as a Bat cuts into the chatter. He levels a hard stare at Danny, who flinches away from it. The man's face softens just a bit. "We know that you from a different dimension"
"We tested your blood and have means to detect travelers from alternate universes" a guy in yellow helpfully says. "We also sort of figured who you were before that"
Seriously how?
"What?" Danny asks and the man in the Bat costume removes his masks. He's left staring at someone who look oddly familar but for the life of him he can't place it.
"Ughhhhh"
"Bruce, I'm also Bruce Wayne and in this universe I'm Batman" He says
Who?
"We will help you get home" Bruce tells Danny unlocking his cell. "I'm sorry about the ambush"
Now, this is where Danny should come clean and tell this man the truth, but he panics because he is not good under pressure and instead says, "Okay,"
And that's how Danny is mistaken for Bruce Wayne's civilian dimension traveling counterpart. He tries to roll with it, he does, but it's a little hard to when he's surrounded by weirdos who dress up like clowns to fight crime.
What even is his life.
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genacity · 8 months
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DAY ONE. FIRST TIME?
ft. gojo satoru — jujutsu kaisen (呪術廻戦)
your boyfriend gojo satoru is convinced you’ll never be able to knock him off of the pedestal he stands on. saying he’ll always be the one to fuck you good and straight, that you’ll never one up him. maybe it’s time to show him that he’s not always right.
ruling. nsfw — mature content
content warnings. dom! gn! reader, first time sub! gojo, anal penetration / pegging, fingering, overstimulation, bratty gojo, slight dacryphilia, dumbification themes, hair pulling, spit as lube, established relationship, plot before porn
an. this came out way too long. anyways hope y’all enjoy day 1, some of the kinks listed on the ml did not make the cut bcs the fic would take 80 years to read and the intro is already cutting into my lifetime. also not proofread. anyways enjoy fucking gojo!!
kinktober 2023 masterlist
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you and your boyfriend gojo satoru have been dating for five months at this point. your relationship is everything you’ve ever wanted in one; secure, loving, and honest. satoru is the most caring man you’ve probably ever met— though cheeky, he’s just as infatuated with you as he was when you first met.
not only is gojo amazing, but so is the sex. not to be a prude, but it’s true. he knows how to take care of his baby and never wants to leave you unsatisfied.
the only sour thing about your relationship is his teasing. especially in the mornings-after.
when you’re groaning, pressing down on a muscle in your back as you complained to gojo about how hard he went down on you the night prior. your boyfriend’s fierce laughter as he’s propped up on one arm, staring at you from his safety beneath the covers of your shared bed and messy hair.
“aw, c’mon, you know you liked it.” gojo would say as you kept prodding at your shoulders and legs. you’d shoot him a dirty look and he’d snicker loudly again. “okay, okay, i’m sorry. i’ll make it up to you today, i swear.”
one morning, your boyfriend had tossed his still-bare body over yours after a long session that night. face first into the pillow behind your head; long, spindly limbs sprawled out like a starfish on top of you as you both shared silly remarks about the long night you both had.
“y’know, one day, i’m gonna get you back for all the times you leave me sore like this,” you huffed, earning a muffle giggle from your boyfriend with his head in the sheets. “what? i’m serious.” you insisted.
gojo’s head snapped up to look at you. squinted blue eyes followed by another ugly little giggle. “uh huh, i bet.”
“what do you mean, ‘you bet’?” you scrunched your nose as your boyfriend gave you another mean chuckle through his big grin. “c’mon, y/n. you know you can’t top my skills.”
“now what does that mean?” you shot back, cocking an eyebrow at gojo’s funny expressions.
he hummed, thinking for a bit before turning his attention back to you. “you know i’m good at what i do. if you even tried to top me, you’d just end up giving up anyways.” you rolled your eyes. “not true.”
“what’s not true? that you’d give up, or that i’m good? because y’know, these fingers aren’t only good at sorcery—”
“yeah yeah, shut the fuck up.”
ever since that night, though, you haven’t stopped thinking about the idea. reversing the roles. it’s something the both of you had never tried before, but were you open to the idea. you just needed to make sure that satoru was, too.
but there was something different about tonight in particular that made you feel a bit more confident than usual.
it started off as it usually did whenever the both of you were in the mood. a handsy hello as soon as you got home from work; peppering your face with kisses and fingers pressing against your hips as you let your boyfriend lead you to the bedroom.
you’d barely be able to get a word in with the way gojo would welcome you home. lips quickly pressed together and without hesitation your back would be against the mattress and clothes discarded onto the floor.
“missed you today.” gojo mumbled into the kiss, lips sloppily trying to chase the pattern the both of you shared. hands gripping at your sides as he pushed you eagerly onto the bed.
as soon as you hit the bed you immediately grabbed at his arms and pulled him forward onto you. something inside you was pounding— pounding for tonight to be different than the rest.
you pulled gojo onto the bed, chest rising with heated breaths as a switch in your brain flipped. hands pushing him down beneath you, his back against the sheets as your boyfriend let out a breathy gasp.
“hey, what’re you doin’?” gojo mumbled, looking up at you through glassy eyes and white lashes as you reveled at the sight of satoru beneath you— a sight you weren’t used to seeing, but welcomed with open arms.
“you’re gonna let me take care of you tonight. okay toru?” you said, his eyes blowing wide and lips twitching into a small grin.
“take care of me?” he chuckled, watching as you slowly started to undo his shirt. “i’d like to see you try.”
you rolled your eyes as you pulled his shirt off, tossing it onto the floor. gojo watched your every movement, watching with interest as one of your hands quickly went to circle one of his nipples.
he shivered at your cold fingertips tracing along his chest, but laughed all the same. “what, ‘s this all you’re gonna do? c’mon, baby, let me just take care of you and— mmph.” gojo was promptly cut off when he felt your fingers press against the hard-on in his pants. a small smile crept onto your lips at the sight.
“hush, toru.” you muttered, palming him through his pants as gojo let out a strained groan. “this is what you get for being so mean to me all the time. leaving me brusied and sore.”
“you said you wanted it rough.” satoru panted, looking down at you as his long fingers started to grab at the sheets beneath him. “oh, i do.” you shrugged. “but now, it’s your turn to feel what i feel.”
your boyfriend’s breath hitched in his throat at the words from your tongue. he quickly gathered himself, clearing his throat to mask the whimper that slipped his lips. “you’ll just give up, y’know. you’re just gonna give into me and come crawling back.”
“that’s what you may think, but i know what i want.” you said, removing your hand from his bulge to reach for his glinting silver belt buckle. “you’re gonna take my cock and behave, just like i do for you. and if you don’t like it, you can say our safe word and leave.”
gojo gulped. he knew you wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want. he was in the position to say no whenever he wanted to. but the thought of your thick cock splitting him open had him salivating; even if he didn’t want to admit it to his big ego.
“satoru.” your voice called him back, snapping him out of the trance he was in. he looked down at you, his belt already undone and ready to be pulled off. “color, satoru. tell me what you want.”
he swallowed thickly again, lips parting as he whispered. “green.”
you smiled softly at him, slowly pulling his belt from the loops as you muttered a slow “alright.” unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down alongside his boxers. his pretty cock revealing itself to you.
“already leaking for me, huh toru?” you snickered, the feelings of your breath along his dick making him twitch.
“still gonna break you, y’know.” gojo murmured. “you’re just gonna give up and beg me to fuck you.”
“whatever makes you feel better.” *you said plainly. the tone in your voice left him shivering. suddenly, you raised your hand to his lips and with no hesitation said, “spit.”
gojo blinked down at you, who was watching him expectantly. he parted his lips and let his tongue slip forward, spitting onto your fingers as he maintained eye contact with you. “thank you, toru.” you said, lubricating your fingers before you lined them with the edge of his hole.
he felt his heart leap into his throat when your fingertips prodded at his entrance. silently, satoru spread his legs to let you know he wanted you. and you seemed to understand his prompt, for almost immediately your long fingers slipped into him with ease.
“fuck, oh god.” gojo immediately hissed, clenching tight around your middle and ring fingers as they slowly began to thrust in and out of him. “oh my god.”
he watched as your hand worked at his insides; curling your fingers as the sorcerer finally allowed for small whines to slip past his lips. each sound left his stomach turning— the dirty sounds of his own hole clenching around his partner’s fingers making him shudder.
gojo was stuck at small whines of pleasure, heavy breathing and the occasional gasp, until your fingers hit a particularly good spot inside him that made him cry out.
“ohn— oh fuck,” gojo whined out. “there. right, right there, that— ah!” he gasped when your fingers curled against his sweet spot, making him flinch and pulse around you. “‘s that feel good, satoru?” you asked, slowly thrusting your fingers in and out of his hole, taking note of the way his fingers curled around the satin sheets of your shared bed.
satoru nodded. his chest rising and falling with sharp breaths as he kept his eyes locked on you. “yeah. feels good. right there, feels so good…” he murmured. jolting back with every thrust of your fingers in and out of him, muscles tensing and relaxing in ragged patterns before you eventually pulled your fingers out.
“so messy.” you murmured, raising your hand to his mouth again. “spit.” and he did, right onto your fingers once more.
“i think you’re ready to take me, toru.” you spread his legs and began to undo your own buckle. your boyfriend watched your hands, every move closer to watching you reveal yourself making him almost shake with anticipation.
it wasn’t until you finally pulled out your cock did he realize how big you truly were. eyes blowing into saucers as he immediately began to blabber.
“you look so big!” satoru whined. “no way you’re gonna make me take all of that!”
“oh, i will.” you purred, pressing the head of your cock to his hole. he flinched, feeling your tip just against his ass as he went to protest again. “why can’t i jus’ fuck you like usual, baby?”
you laughed meanly at his words. “what, are you scared, satoru?” you asked, leaning in and simultaneously pressing your tip just against his opening. “scared i’m gonna break you open?”
“no!” gojo shook his head furiously. “i just- i just think you’re gonna get tired and give up.”
you sighed, staring down at your boyfriend with his big wide eyes and wet eyelashes. after a moment of bathing in his beauty, you grabbed hold of his thighs and leaned back. “color, satoru.”
gojo hesitated. looking from you down to his drooling cock that was just begging to be touched. his inflated ego kept hammering in his chest, but the feeling of your tip against his hole drove every thought away and left him squirming.
“green.”
“good.” and before he knew it, you’d forced yourself into him. a loud moan clawing its way through his throat and spilling from his lips as you began to pound into him, gradually picking up speed.
suddenly, that same hammering feeling in his chest immediately died out. as soon as satoru felt your cock sliding in and out of his walls, pressing up against his prostate with every thrust, his demeanor immediately unraveled.
“fuck— oh my— fuck, you’re so big!” gojo cried out. hands scrambling to ground himself as he gripped onto the sheets. “ah— oh— oh my fucking, please, y/n!”
you couldn’t help but watch gojo’s big blue eyes grow teary. rolling back into his head as you fucked him, forcing his legs back to angle yourself well enough to hit all of the right places.
“already all ruined for me, satoru.” you cooed. your words slipped into his brain and toyed with his thoughts, leaving him quietly whimpering as he felt your hands near his head.
all of a sudden, the cloudy feeling forming in gojo’s brain flickered as you took a handful of his hair and forced him to look at you. yelping as your fingers intertwined with his snowy locks and pulled his head up.
“what was that you said earlier about me getting tired and giving up, toru?” you asked, hips angling and pounding into him faster and faster. all he could do was hiccup and gasp, head subtly bobbing from the force of your thrusts combined with the weakening grip on his scalp.
“ahmm— ah, i don’t— uhn…” he stammered, too focused on the feeling of the head of your cock kissing his prostate with every thrust to make out the words you were saying. the fog in his head was coming back, accompanied by a knot tightening in his stomach.
satoru was panting and shaking. too focused on the heat in his lower abdomen spreading across his body. “i’m- it’s-” he stuttered out, words slurred together. his brain was rattling inside his head. too embarrassed to admit the fact that he was already about to cum his brains out to himself as you kept hammering his hole. “y/n, i’m gonna— haaah, oh!”
“gonna what?” you asked, thrusts growing deep and sloppy as you kept your quick pace. “c’mon, finish your sentence. don’t tell me you’ve already gone dumb.”
his vision grew blurry with tears, a few even spilling over and down his cheeks. the heat in his stomach kept burning, hotter and hotter as his brain tried to scramble for words to try and form a sentence. hell, even a word would be nice.
“ah, ahn, i’m— haah, ah, ah!” gojo began to squeal. your grip on his hair grew tighter as he completely began to forget you were even talking to him.
and suddenly, he was cumming all over himself with a garbled “cu— ah, aahhn!” his scalp burning from the force you held him up with, legs twitching as his cock bobbed with every stream of cum he coated his stomach with.
you slowed your thrusts as you watched him cum, but didn’t halt completely. as soon as he was done, you immediately began picking up your pace once more.
“wait, wh— fuck!” satoru whined out as you let go of his hair and flipped him onto his hands and knees. his head stuffed into the pillow that was once below him as you drove your cock into his hole with more fervor than before. “i- i just came! y/n, baby, i just-”
“i never said you could cum, did i?” you asked. immediately he shut his mouth, clenching around you with a loud whine. “you’re gonna keep taking my cock until i’ve cum. until then, you sit here and look pretty for me. is that clear?”
at first he didn’t respond. not until you grabbed hold of his hair from behind and forced him up again. “i said, is that clear, satoru?”
gojo eagerly nodded his head, panting and whimpering with your every movement. “yes. yes, ‘s clear! fuck me, please!”
you were going to have a long night.
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emphistic · 1 month
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𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍’ 𝐍 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍’
𝐀/𝐍: here's what you've all been waiting for . . . more preschool!sukuna !! — as thanks for 1000+ followers — also, also, big thanks to @domainofmarie and @beyond-your-stars for the idea !
𝐖/𝐂: around 1.7k
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When you first met Sukuna, you thought he was a strawberry incarnate. Maybe it was his hair — which you were shocked to find out was natural, maybe it was his eyes — that seemingly glowed maroon whenever he was even slightly vexed, or maybe, just maybe, it was the way his pale skin turned a cute shade of salmon whenever you looked his way. In any case, you stood by your decision. — Sukuna was a strawberry.
And, if you thought hard enough, you would remember the times where you used to try and eat Sukuna. Yes, you read that right. Sometimes you would go up to your friend, grab one of his cheeks in your hands, and chomp!
Unfortunately, you did get in trouble one or two times, not because Sukuna told on you — he would never even think of doing such a thing, — but because Sukuna walked around all day with a bite mark engraved on his cheek.
You actually haven’t stopped this deed of yours. It’s become a habit, or an addiction, as Sukuna called it. But he didn’t mind. He never did. Not if it was about you.
But what he did mind, was, when people would try to take your attention off of him.
For instance, right now. You were seated beside Sukuna on the bus, and in the midst of trying to take a bite of your strawberry, whilst said strawberry was just staring out the window, letting you give your best efforts. [No, he did not give you the window seat.] Out of the blue, another one of your classmates approaches your row.
“Hey, guys! Can I sit next to you—?”
“This seat is taken.” Sukuna swiftly turns to face the boy and gestures towards the empty spot on your left. Albeit it was obviously not occupied, Sukuna didn’t even try to make up a better excuse.
“Umm, it’s actually—”
“Taken. It’s actually taken.”
Due to Sukuna’s unwavering glare, and clearly irked expression on his face, the boy clumsily shuffled away.
“‘Kuna,” you started, in that soft tone of yours — which never failed to lift his spirits, “he just wanted to sit down with us. And—and, no one’s sitting there anyway. Lying’s bad.”
“Yeah, well,” he huffed. “Next time I won’t lie, then. I’ll tell him he can’t sit next to you.”
“You mean ‘us’?”
“I mean what I said.”
“You’re the most confusing strawberry ever.”
Sukuna rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, the strawberry did not get less confusing once you two arrived at your destination . . . the zoo!
Your teachers had originally planned to separate the class into two groups — in order to avoid chaos — but, when they noticed you and Sukuna already holding hands, they refrained from their decision of splitting you two up. They knew it would always end up being a battle they couldn’t win, no matter how hard they tried. Sukuna would never let go. And you, being you, wouldn’t let go either.
“Hey, Sukuna! Can you hold my hand? Those animals are scaring me.” A girl asked, once your group had reached the lion enclosure. You turned your head and saw the girl stick out her tongue at you. You frowned.
“Out of my way,” Sukuna elbowed her, sending her stumbling, “we—she wants to see the pandas.” Sukuna managed to successfully drag you a few feet away from your classmates before your teachers spotted the little attempt at “escape” and reprimanded you two, leading you guys back to the rest of the group.
Sukuna frowned, yet his grip on your hand never ceased. However, the frown soon flipped upside down, when your teacher guided the group over to the pandas. Sukuna noticed a growing smile on your lips, and hid his own, turning slightly away.
You pointed at the pandas behind the glass wall, “‘Kuna, look! They’re so cute! Aww, I want one as a pet.”
“Yeah? Then you’d have to clean up all their poop. Look at how big they are, and just imagine the size of their poop. It must be equal in ratio, y’know.”
You stifled a giggle behind your free hand, “Okay. Then . . . I would just make you clean up the poop and take care of the hard stuff. And I’ll do everything else.”
“Sure.”
You jumped up and down fervently, continuing to grasp his hand all the while. “Really? Yay!”
“Whatever.” Sukuna turned away from you, again, and worked hard to contain his laughter. You just looked so . . .
“Over here, everyone! Come this way,” your teacher yelled, making you guys continue on your way. “I meant everyone, Sukuna. Don’t stop your friend from listening to the teacher, didn’t I tell you? Wouldn’t want to leave you guys behind.”
Sukuna sighed, yet obeying nonetheless.
As your class left the animals encased behind glass walls, you passed by another enclosure on your way out. — A group of turtles.
You let go of Sukuna and ran up to the glass, pressing your face against it, not noticing the way your breath fogged up the glass. You gasped, loudly. “Woah! They’re all such pretty colors—ah!”
Sukuna pulled you back just as fast as the turtle came near the glass and banged on it with its flipper.
“What happened?” Your teacher asked, in a tone full of genuine concern.
“The sea turtle, it—it attacked me.” You pointed at said animal.
“No, it didn’t. You’re just being dramatic. It was behind the glass.”
Miss Wells’s eyes flickered between you two as you and Sukuna argued and bickered over what happened. When she realized nothing serious occured, she backed away. It was funny, she had to admit. The two of you were fighting while still holding hands.
“Hmph! It did attack me.”
“It didn’t even touch you.”
“Yes, it did.”
“Sure, sure.”
“Uh huh.”
Sukuna, this time, didn’t bother hiding his laugh when a gorilla beat its chest and you jolted in your position. But, he didn’t forget to squeeze your hand, assuring you nothing was going to hurt you. Not if he was there.
The rest of the day was spent seeing alligators, tigers, spiders, snakes, you name it. And, although you did get a little spooked a few times, you couldn’t deny you were totally bummed when your teacher announced the field trip was over. You didn’t even get to see your favorite animal yet.
As for Sukuna? He couldn’t deny he was totally bummed seeing you look so upset.
When your group rendezvoused with the other half of the class and loaded onto the bus, Sukuna helped you put on your coat, as the weather had decreased drastically.
You leaned your head on your strawberry’s shoulder. “‘Kuna,” you sighed, clearly exhausted after a whole day of fun.
“Hm?” He pushed a strand of hair out of your eyes and tucked it behind your ear.
“Why are you still holding my hand?” Albeit you were tired, you were never too tired to giggle.
“. . .So you don’t get lost. Duh.” It took Sukuna quite a bit of time to think of a decent answer.
“But, we’re on a bus. How would I get lost?”
“You never know.”
“You’re such a dummy. It’s literally impossible.”
“You’re pretty good at doing impossible things.” — Like, making his heart race, running through his mind all day long, giving him a feeling other than anger. You were a master at doing impossible feats.
“Shut up.”
“Oh yeah? If I shut up, then, how would I be able to give you . . . this!” Sukuna pulled out a stuffed plushie of your favorite animal of all time from behind his back, as if he had been waiting for this moment all his life. And, maybe he was. You never know, right?
“Sukuna!” You gasped. Reaching out your hands in a ‘gimme, gimme’ manner.
“Not even a ‘please’? Not even a ‘thank you’?” Sukuna teased.
However, he didn’t have much to say once you leaned over and placed a wet kiss on his cheek, making a ‘mwah!’ sound as you did so. "Thank you, thank you! — So much!"
Sukuna touched his cheek with his hand, his face immediately reddening. All the while, you took your chance and snatched the plushie out of his arms, quickly cuddling it to your chest.
“When did you even get this?”
“. . .” He was broken, absolutely stupefied, and unable to speak.
“‘Kuna?”
“Oh, what? What did you say?”
“I said, ‘when did you get this’?” You repeated, still entirely focused on the animal in your arms.
“Right. . . I got it when you were in the bathroom. Spent all my money on it. I didn’t know gift shops were so expensive.” He scratched the back of his head.
“Of course it would be expensive, silly! It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!"
He smiled. “I beg to differ.”
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animeyanderelover · 7 months
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can i request gojo with a darling who can touch him even when his infinity is on? (I think it's canon that he can never turn it off completely so that would be his first time actually having physical contact with someone)
Huge thanks to everyone who helped me with this request by explaining how exactly Gojo’s abilities work! I’ll start watching the second season as soon as all episodes are out for anyone who is wondering. I added a bit of stuff to make for an more interesting read.
Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, clinginess, obsession, touchiness, manipulation, gaslighting, paranoia, isolation, abduction
The first touch
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🩵Gojo has been having his eyes on you even before he knew about your very special abilities. That basically means that you have this white-haired menace terrorising your daily life whenever he can. You almost have the impression that he can sniff you out among the many million people in Tokyo as he always finds you somehow. You're honestly just so fed up with him but are terribly introverted and feel too scared and awkward to explain to him clearly how you feel about his constant intrusion. You doubt that it would get through his head anyways so you silently endure the man's clingy, whiny and increasingly affectionate antics. Satoru knows no personal boundaries when it comes to you or rather he just decides to ignore it. You're just too cute~ Your unwillingness to stand up for yourself leads to ruthless abuse from his side.
🩵He has had it coming one way or another as he senses your growing frustration with his unbelievable clinginess and disrespect of your privacy. Worst is that he's at this point provoking you because he wants to see what you look like when you snap. So when your string of patience finally snaps as you feel his hands rubbing your shoulders and fawning over your current anger, you've had enough. You swing your heavy handbag at him in a moment of short and impulsive anger. Satoru doesn't move from his spot as he doesn't worry. His Infinity is activated so the handbag won't hit him. It'll easily just be seen as you missing your target, which is right now his handsome face. He sees your handbag moving closer to his face and just gives a small grin... At least until the fucking thing smashes against his face with full force, heavy with all of your stuff inside.
🩵Everyone who would know him, would probably laugh at him if they would see him in that moment. The almighty Satoru, stumbling back in shock before tripping over his own feet and landing onto the ground. That would have never happened if he would have been around anyone else. But he isn't around anyone. He's with you. Sweet, weak and lovable non-sorcerer you. Around you he never has his guard up unless he senses danger. Not because he underestimates you, although he definitely does, but because he feels like he can just be himself around you. That's why he's so thoroughly unprepared for this. For a moment he just sits on the ground in bewilderment, his face pulsing with pain from the impact it just had with your handbag. You start frantically apologizing as soon as you realize what you've done, flip a bit out when blood seeps out of his nose. You quickly rummage through your handbag as you search for something to stop the bleeding.
🩵Gojo on the other hand, who slowly starts coming back to reality after this major shock, touches his face in a daze. When he pulls his hand back, his fingertips are covered in blood, in his own blood. He looks at the red liquid like it is something he has never seen before in his life, as if it's something alien-like, before he jumps abruptly up. You flinch and shrink when he bents down to your height, brilliant blue eyes seemingly trying to look deep into your soul as he asks you quietly how you just did that. His voice is slightly strained with emotions you can't fully detect. You do see some of them swirling around in his eyes. Curiosity, shock, surprise but also something else. Something you haven't sensed in the silly and clingy man before. It unsettles you deeply. You don't even know what he just meant with his question just now and Satoru seems to realize that too as he pulls back, allowing you to breathe again.
🩵He leaves you a while after that incident and even if he tries to keep his normal facade up, you sense that something has startled him. If only you'd know. Satoru's mind is occupied with this accident the whole day. How were you able to do that? You're a non-sorcerer by all accounts and he didn't sense any cursed energy from you nor from anywhere around you. You were honestly expecting him to not show his face so soon again yet instead he rings at your apartment in the early morning hours. You're majorly confused and frightened by the fact that he seems to know where you live as you have never told him that yet Gojo pushes past you like he's been here a hundred times before. His eyes briefly fly through your current home, noting that it is quite small if you'd live with him, you could have everything you would want before he asks you the most ridiculous question you've heard all week. "Can you slap me?"
🩵You look at the man as if he has suffered from brain damage due to your handbag yesterday. How does one even respond to such a request?! Weirdest of all is that he looks at you with genuinely curious eyes. Can you slap him? Can you touch him with your own hands and everything you hold in your hands even if his Infinity is on? You hesitate a tad bit too long before he decides to provoke you a bit to anger you enough to do as he just asked you. It works as it is early morning, you've just found out that he knows where you lived and you're also still quite tired. You're in no condition to endure his teasing as he reminds you of embarrassing accidents he's had the joy of witnessing. The next thing he knows, he feels the impact of your hand against his cheek with more strength than he assumed. Maybe he underestimated your strength just a tiny, tiiiiny bit. Nevertheless though, as he rubs his stinging cheek his eyes are glued to you as a realization comes to him that changes his life. You, a non-sorcerer, somehow have the ability to seemingly nullify his Infinity... How?
🩵It must be the biggest irony of the universe. His darling is metaphorically and literally his one and only biggest weakness. A tiny part of him really has to chuckle about this but for the most part, Gojo suddenly grows by leaps and bounds more paranoid. He is the strongest in the sorcerer world and he couldn't even count on both hands how many people constantly pray for his downfall but can only do that as he is literally untouchable. With his situation he would already be under normal circumstances be overprotective and slightly paranoid that someone would instead resort to making you a target and use you against Gojo. He has to protect weak you for that reason against all the evil in this world. Yet with the knowledge that you can touch and by extension of that also harm him, a new fear inside of him grows. What if his enemies would decide to set you up against him to have you kill him? Or worse, what if you yourself would decide to rebel against him and would try to harm him?
🩵If you wouldn't have this special talent, he wouldn't be worried. Because then you simply wouldn't be able to harm him although your betrayal would still badly sting due to the lingering scars of Geto's betrayal. Yet with the added aspect that you can actually hurt him, Gojo's paranoia worsens. The image of you being his downfall, the only person he genuinely loves and trusts in this world, breaks him somehow. It isn't likely considering that he is far above you in all physical aspects and still has other abilites, not to mention that you would never sink that low, yet the fact that it is the tiniest possibility is enough to drive him a bit mad. You'd never do that, right? You love and care too much to ever think about killing him or even slightly harming him, right?
🩵You don't know where those sudden insecurities and his paranoia come from, you never imagined the Satoru you knew for a while to be so fragile underneath all his confidence and silliness. You wish that he could revert back to that side of him, even if it was possibly only a facade. Because now Satoru is downright suffocating and scares you even. You can't do anything to escape his tight grasp though and even if he doesn't hold you, you're still stuck in your new home. In his own huge mansion, installed with a security system that would never allow you to step outside unless he's with you. You will never leave his side, he won't let you. No one is allowed to find out about you and your one of a kind abilities. It is the bittersweetest irony ever. The warm touches of yours he so yearns for are the only ones who could also kill him.
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honnelander · 9 months
Note
You know what I was thinking about? reader decides to make Sanji(thr rest of the crew are sleeping, and since she always helps him with the dishes they're always the last ones) she decides to make him her favorite desert from back home. She's not a great cook like Sanji, but she made with such love and care(plus it's really good) that he can't help but be with heart eyes all the time. What do you think?
hiii i loved this request! here is how go fish! Sanji would react to reader making him her favorite dessert:
(once again i get carried away lol)
masterlist
"What's your favorite dessert?" you ask, completely out of the blue one night.
Sanji blinked a few times, trying to focus and gather his thoughts at your sudden question.
It was a typical Tuesday night on the Going Merry, where both of you were doing your unofficial nightly ritual of washing the dishes together after Sanji had served everyone another delicious evening meal, when you had broken the comfortable silence with your seemingly random question.
The blonde cook frowned slightly at the soapy sink water, sponge in hand as he continued scrubbing the saute pan. "Uh- I'm actually not too sure, love," he answered, rinsing off the pan with clean water before handing it over to you. "Why?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow slightly as he casted you a curious glance.
You took the dripping pan from him, shrugging. "Just curious," you hummed. "I like knowing things about you."
Sanji felt his heart flutter at your kind words as the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "Ah, you're too kind to me Missus." He licked his bottom lip, trying his best to contain his ever-growing smile as he washed a plate. "What about you?"
"Huh?" You asked, drying the pan, like you snapped out of a daze.
Sanji had a full-blown smile now, laughing slightly. You were too cute for your own good. "Dessert," he replied patiently. He turned his head to look at you, bumping his hip with yours as he asked, "What's your favorite dessert?"
Now, sometimes Sanji couldn't help it. He just had to flirt with you. Sometimes you just made it too easy for him.
And damn if you didn't look cute when you blushed.
He leaned in towards you, his voice dipping lowly as he nearly purred, "Anything you see right now?"
"Well-" you sputtered, face turning scarlet as you nearly dropped the pan. "I, uh, I'm full. Actually."
Sanji tried his best to suppress his smile at your adorable antics as he resumed cleaning the plate in his hand. "Oh?"
"Yeah," you replied quickly. After a moment, you placed the dry pan on the dish mat. "But, um, maybe later?"
At your unsure question, Sanji felt his ears literally perk up as he repeated, "Later?"
He couldn't help it, his thoughts were running wild at the thought of you actually picking up what he was putting down. Was this really happening?
"Uh, yeah," you said, your reply sounding more like a question than an answer. You took a deep breath, your voice sounding more sure as you said, "Yeah. Later." You locked eyes with his surprised ones. "Come back here later. At midnight."
-------- ----
In his quarters, Sanji was wide awake. Laying on his bunk, he stared up at the ceiling as he mindlessly played with the cap on his lighter.
Click.
Were you serious? Did you actually ask him to meet up for a late-night rendezvous? Ahem- 'dessert'?
Click.
Ever since Nami had called him out on his, uh, crush on you, he was ashamed to admit that he found himself dreaming of something like this happening between you both for a while.
Click.
He liked to tease and flirt with you whenever he felt like it, loving the way you would just get so shy around him all of a sudden. It was just too cute for words. He was perfectly content at the moment with watching you from afar, when you were off in your own world, not realizing the beauty you emanated from purely existing.
And now you had picked up on his innuendo and were actually scheduling a meet-up?
Click.
Sanji could practically feel the nerves on his skin tingle from excitement, his heart beating faster than normal.
He's never actually had a woman return any kind of affection for him before, and if he laid here in bed any longer he felt like he was going to combust.
Clink. Sanji snapped his silver metal lighter shut as he sat up in bed, immediately finding the clock on the wall to read the time:
11:40
Ugh. It wasn't 12 exactly, but he simply couldn't just wait in his room any longer. It'd been hours since you both had finished up the dishes and these few hours of waiting had been absolute torture.
He got out of bed, wearing his usual pants and blue-striped button-down with a tie, even his shoes were on still, as he pocketed his lighter deciding to just go wait for you in the kitchen. You were pretty adamant about the meet-up time being 12 exactly, but he simply couldn't wait any longer.
Quietly, he opened the door of his room and carefully made his way towards the kitchen, trying to be as silent as he could. The ship was practically pitch-black since it was basically the middle of the night, but the closer he got towards the kitchen, he saw that a few lights were already on.
"Shit," he heard your whispered hiss. "I thought this would look better...oh my god. What if he hates this?"
His brows furrowed. Were you talking about him? Hating something you had done? He couldn't ever imagine that happening.
When he made it to the kitchen, the sight he was greeted with brought a smile to his face. There you were facing him, hunched over a whimsically decorated pink, yellow, white, and red cake, your face scrunched up in concentration, and the kitchen looking a bit of a mess.
As cute as the sight was, he couldn't help but be completely confused at what was going on. Didn't both of you just clean this entire kitchen only a few hours ago?......did you even go to bed at all?
This certainly wasn't the, uh, rendezvous he was expecting, but this was somehow better. He never knew what to expect with you and he loved that.
"Y/n?" he called out quietly.
You flinched at the sound of his voice, immediately straightening up, your eyes full of shock and surprise. "Sanji!" You put a hand over your heart. "Geez, you scared the hell out of me." You frowned slightly. "You were supposed to be here at 12."
The blonde cook took a couple of steps towards the counter, placing his hands on the edge as he leaned forward against it, examining the disarray before him, a small confused smile on his face. "What's going on here?"
"Um, well," you rubbed the back of your neck. "I wasn't quite ready yet...and I thought this would all look better...but, surprise..." you trailed off a bit lamely, slowly opening up your arms with an embarrassed smile.
Sanji cocked his head to the side. "Surprise for who?"
"You."
Now he was really confused. "Me?"
"Yeah." You were quiet for a moment, taking a deep breath and looked up at him, your expression soft and tender. "Happy anniversary Sanji."
"Well- I," Sanji stuttered. He was so terribly confused what you were on about but your expression didn't change. It was like you were waiting for him to realize what you were talking about. He let out a small breath. "I'm sorry, y/n. What are you talking about, sweetheart? What anniversary?"
Was he already dating you and it was an important anniversary for you both? Was he dreaming?
"Well, technically it's not your anniversary yet. But at midnight, it will be. It'll be ten years to the day..." you trailed off, looking down at the cake you made.
Ten years?
Suddenly, it all made sense to him. Everything. It was his ten-year anniversary....of being saved from that rock he was stranded on, with Zeff. The day that he would count as one of the happiest and hardest days of his life simultaneously.
He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice from wavering as best he could. "Ten years from he day I was saved..." He took a steadying breath as he looked at you.
As hard as the day was for him, he couldn't believe that you actually remembered the date. He had told you part of his horrible back story months ago when he had met you, right around the time when he told Luffy that story. Never did he think that you would do so much as to even remember the month and day of when he had gotten saved. The day he got a second chance at life.
"You remembered?" he asked incredulously.
"Of course I did," you say simply, not offended by his question at all. You looked at him with a small smile, a twinkle in your eye. "It's the day that saved your life." In a quieter tone, you looked back down at your cake, a hint of embarrassment in your words, "If this day didn't happen ten years ago, I never would've met you. And I can't imagine never meeting you."
Sanji felt frozen in place as he stared at you. He felt his heartrate skyrocket.
But you weren't done with your sweet words. "Whenever you talked about that time in your life, you're always so sad over it. And rightfully so!" you quickly added, looking at him, your face flushing slightly. "But I don't want you to be sad over it anymore. So I figured I would make you your favorite dessert and surprise you with it so we could celebrate this day together but..."
You never told me what your favorite dessert was, were the unspoken words that hung in the air.
Truthfully, he wasn't a huge dessert person so he truly didn't have an answer when you had asked earlier but that didn't mean he didn't know a few desserts or two. He quickly scanned over your baked creation, looking at the details more closely and a smile twitched on his face when he realized the kind of cake you made.
"Is that a strawberry lemon cake?" he asked, his crooked smile growing wider when he saw your eyes light up.
Instantly, you looked up at him, immediately making eye contact with him, your face full of surprise. "Y-yes! It is...how'd you know..?"
"Ah, don't you know who you're talking to? The greatest chef in all of the four seas?" he asked playfully. "I know a strawberry lemon cake whenever I see one." Seeing the pair of forks and small plates you had already set out for you both, Sanji reached for a fork, looking at you with a raised brow. "May I?"
"Of course," you quickly nodded, gesturing for him to dig in.
As he took a forkful off the edge and put the dessert in his mouth, the sweetness and flavors immediately dancing on his tongue, you told him something sweet as he tasted something sweet.
"This is actually my favorite dessert," you admitted. Playing with hem of your apron (which he noted you looked so adorable in), you looked at him full of apprehension. "Do you like it? I think I could've done a better job..."
"This is the best thing I've ever tasted," he said without thinking.
And was he lying? Absolutely not. Since he was a cook, he was accustomed to so-called 'perfect meals' and all other 'amazing' creations. But this? A sweet cake made with love that was actually good? It was the truth: this was the best thing he'd ever had and he now had a favorite dessert, your strawberry lemon cakes.
"Ah, you're just saying that..."
"I'm serious." Sanji straightened up. "Something as good as this, made with love by you? And for such a...special occasion? I'm serious, y/n." He made sure he locked eyes with you, hoping you could feel everything he was feeling. "This is truly, the best thing I've ever had."
At his genuine compliment, he saw your apprehension melt away, that look being taken over by a look that radiated happiness. You were beaming. "Aw, Sanji," you said bashfully, waving him off slightly, a slight dusting of pink on your cheeks. "Well, thank you."
As he slowly made his way around the counter to be closer to you, he asked, "Wanna tell me how you made this incredible creation, Missus? I've never made one before."
At the opportunity to teach the Going Merry's chef something about food, an excited smile broke out across your face as you started explaining how you made your favorite dessert, launching into an animated explanation.
Once he was on the same side of the counter as you, practically a foot away but wanting to be closer, needing to touch you in some way but holding himself back, he listened to you explain every detail to him with a full feeling in his heart and a soft smile on his face.
Never before had someone done such a sweet and kind act for him, trying to help him heal from one of his traumas, but here you were, up all night practically so you could surprise him. The longer he looked at you, the more certain that yeah, Nami was right. He didn't like you as a friend. He liked you much more than a friend should.
He had feelings for you.
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satoruhour · 9 months
Text
POCKET P*SSY!
a/n: idk where this came from. tagging @nc-vb @papersirens @crysugu
wc: 2.8k
warnings: fem!reader, m! masturbation (two scenes), use of fleshlight, unspoken feelings, reader listening in on nanami, f! masturbation, brief clit stimulation & fingering, pet names, ambiguous ending, n*sfw under the cut
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nanami kento was an organised, work-oriented man. he submits his sorcerer reports on time, he reports to work right at nine in the morning and clocks out at six o’ clock sharp, his office is prim and proper with all things where they should be and his (various) suits are always pressed and clean, smelling like sandalwood.
so why was the sight of you so compelling and striking that he swears he can hear his heartbeat through the freshly ironed blue button-up shirt? when you’d come to his office in the school to pass him his morning coffee — which wasn’t forced, you did find yourself heading to the café more and more — and the times when you’d engage in simple conversation with him about bread and gojo (negatively).
it was always a breeze to be around you, a fresh air from the intricacies of being a sorcerer. the violence, the bloodshed, the fatigue. but it’s so much of fresh air that sometimes he wonders why he chokes on his words and feels out of breath whenever he talks to you.
nanami has unwillingly checked his phone for the umpteenth time whilst doing his report, glancing over ever so often just to make sure you wouldn’t cancel on that friday drinking outing you proposed to go on with shoko. gojo was undeniably left out of the picture because of his tolerance and the two were the best drinkers in town, but he just wished he could work out the courage to ask you to be alone with you.
but nanami valued his sanity and heart. he wouldn’t know what he would do if he ever lost you to a curse even though you could hold your own, and the amount of sorcerers who are sent out just to die never deserved any of it. but if they didn’t do it, who will?
it’s question after question that’s mixed in with thoughts of you as he stays focused on the blinking cursor of the word document. appear. disappear. appear. disappear. nanami finds that he can’t think of anything else to say in this dumb report, staring blankly yet again at the annoying flickering cursor that reminds him that this was far from done. he glances down to the first drawer of his office table, the brass lock drawing him in. he thinks that he’s not ready.
just as he wants to type his next word with newfound determination, you’re barging through the door with a loud “nanami!”, a big grin plastered on your face with shoko under your arm, trying not to fall under your intoxicating happiness. god knows why you’re so happy, and if he didn’t know better he would think you were already drunk.
“she just got news that her holiday was approved,” shoko nods as she takes a drag from her cig, blowing the smoke into the office.
“please do not blow secondhand smoke into this room, shoko.” nanami’s monotonous voice cuts through the air like a knife and you would think it’s a reprimand, but both of you know the 7:3 sorcerer is just like that.
“why so boring . .” you tsk, a skip to your step when you round the table and peek at the work, and nanami has to ignore the bounce of your breasts under your outfit and the proximity in which you lowered yourself to. he tries to subtly take in your scent, not listening to your question under you wave a hand in front of him and nanami has to break away from his fantasy of you riding him while your tits bounced in his face. filthy.
“nanami? it’s already 6:02, i thought you violently rejected overtime?”
he clears his throat, catching the brief, sly glance of shoko before he turns to you, “y-yes. i do. just give me half n’ hour, ladies, and we can head over to the bar right after.” he didn’t even realise the clock had already striked 6.
shoko puffs out more smoke to nanami’s dismay, “what the hell do you need half n’ hour for?”
“just to clean up this report, promise.” he mutters, pushing up his reading glasses, “i’ll get it done as soon as possible.”
“oh? the great nanami kento doing overtime?” you giggle, reaching over to type a little cheeky “:)” into the word document before waving goodbye a little dazedly as you walk out behind shoko. the pace at which your heart raced matches the man inside at seeing him in his clear, dad glasses.
“you are down bad, girl.” 
“shush!” you swat at her arm and all she responds is with smoke in your face that she laughs and you just huff, heading off back to the morgue where she felt most at home.
nanami never did submit the report on time. he was given a reluctant extension. what was he doing? anything but the report, instead locking the door to his office and lying awkwardly on his office sofa, that was cleverly placed behind a partition wall. it took a bit of discipline — he typed a few words, deleted them, typed some more and realised they didn’t make sense and by now it’s 6:15. he takes one glance to the locked door and to the partition and down to his hard-on with that familiar feeling in his stomach. it’s been long since he’s jerked off, and sure, he has done it mindlessly just to calm the morning wood but it’s been long since he’s gotten aroused by someone.
the man palms himself through his pants, imagining it was your dainty hands instead, a soft groan leaving his lips at the feeling. his pants have never felt this tight, throbbing and just begging to be released as he slowly fishes it out. nanami was big, a pretty little curve to his cock with a tip that’s leaking pre-cum, and he strokes at it, a shaky breath leaving his mouth that it sounds pathetic. here he was, in his own office sofa fully clothed, with one leg digging into the floor and the other propped onto the armrest. 
“f-fuck . .” he swears lowly and starts setting a pace, conjuring up your face as you bob your head over his length while you play with yourself. “right there—”
nanami whines, unintelligible words muttered out as he pumped his cock. he spits into his palm and continues his ministrations with the most lewd noises that have never graced his office before. so many thoughts of you occupy his mind, you fucking yourself back onto him, how sweet your pussy would taste, the sort of sounds you’d make, how you’d feel around him — nanami cums with a quiet, strained groan, hips lifting off the sofa as he spurts his cum all over his suit, and he doesn’t care, too lost in the feeling as he squeezes his eyes shut. the idea of giving you a creampie sounds too good at the moment, how much cum he’d shoot into you, how he’ll watch it drip out—
“fuck my life.” he simply murmurs when he sees the translucent liquid settle in, and yet nanami doesn’t regret it one bit.
the next week is torment. it was particularly difficult, especially after the moodiness you possessed after getting one worded answers from nanami at the bar. he couldn’t even hold eye contact with you, how rude! he was also gone for quite a bit once, coming out of the bathroom all sweaty and out of breath and you wondered if he found a cursed spirit in the sketchy, dingy restroom of the club.
“relax. a thousand yen he’s just stressed out by . . external factors at the moment.”
“but he’s nanami! if anything, that man is internalising all that’s stressing him out,” you groaned into your hands, “also why are we betting on my love life?”
“it’s fun.” shoko defends herself with two hands when you point a finger at her; you go back to your sulking stage soon enough. she merely settles for a hand on your back. “but you’re not wrong. this is just, a little different.”
you only can sink further into your hands when you recall how nanami pulls uncomfortably at his tie, a distraught expression on his face when you asked if he wanted another round of drinks. the avoided eye contact, the conversation mainly existing between them, it was all you needed to know about his feelings of you. the coffees and hangouts meant nothing, and yet you were so clueless at how you’ve awoken something entirely new for nanami that he’s cumming thrice a day just at the thought of you.
another day, another report to fill in. he had dealt with a first-grade curse this time, the casualties, brutal and infrastructure was severely destroyed. it was going to be a hell of a word count, he notes, but what he doesn’t want happening, or rather, the unavoidable, happens. his mind drifts back to you again and everything that you stood for, of your blinding smile and kind gestures. you knew how he liked the right amount of sugar in his coffees and the right place to massage when his upper back was hurting. there was many times he was sure you both had crossed the line of co-workers and lovers, but it was never spoken or defined.
it was a grey area, he admits. tethering along the lines that he wasn’t even sure was there any more: a gaze held longer than usual, a brush of your hand on his, the not-so-secretive glance at your ass, the quick gaze from his eyes to his crotch when gojo makes a dirty joke. it was already between the lines, yet none of you wanted to act on it.
nanami groans into his hands, taking one more look to that locked drawer, thinking it would magically unlock itself and he wouldn’t have to go though the torture of submitting to his desires and unlocking it like a sex-crazed man in the victorian era after seeing a woman’s ankles. it was humbling. but his mind seems to have a different plan, descending into fantasies that he would rather take to the grave than let gojo pry out of him and he shoots up, fumbling for the key hidden under his documents.
within a second, nanami unlocks it and lets out a breath and takes out a box — a hilarious (at the time) but stupid, stupid thing (it was a fleshlight) he let gojo talk him into buying while they were both drunk. but the more he looks at it, the more he wishes to feel your walls around him and his bulge is not going down. he takes out the fleshlight eagerly, looking at it with wide eyes before he swallows and nanami feels like a teenager again.
his heart pounds when he removes his pants. his laptop, open with his undone report and him standing wide-stanced in front of his desk like a loser and his underwear pulled down just enough for his cock to spring up, you would think he was an alien from another planet. nanami does away with all rationale when he slaps his tip along the pocket pussy, thinking it was yours before his tip slips in and he gasps. the sorcerer stumbles forward and he has to rest a hand on his office chair.
“gojo, you fucking dick,” nanami hates that he’s enjoying it. “haah . . shit—” 
he pushes it down his shaft and the instant pleasure is prominent. soon, nanami is moving the fleshlight over his cock, walking with unplanned steps to the sofa. he falls into it easily, hands still pumping the device along his dick and he already wants to cum from the tightness.
“fuuck . . baby,” there are soft pants that leave his mouth, the device already filling up with all of his pre-cum. the slick noises that dominate the room is loud. nanami is too far gone in this, hips thrusting up into the fleshlight with all his might as he imagines it’s you straddling him instead. biting down on his fist does little, sure he was drawing blood from how hard he was sinking his teeth into the skin there. the way he slips inside feels so much better than his hand, and yet there was something missing — your sounds, the sight of your pussy. he needed to know he’s making you feel good. he cums with a cry of your name and mixed in profanities, pelvis basically rutting into the pussy as he shoots his load deep inside. 
and it doesn’t end there for nanami — like a deranged man, he’s grabbing his cushions and stuffing the pocket pussy in between it and the sofa, dragging his tip along the silicone clit. this shit was embarrassing, fucking something fake just so he can simulate the fantasy of being in you, but it felt fucking divine, so much so that the soft “nanami?” doesn’t even reach his ears. he reenters the pocket pussy, body hunched over the sofa as he presses down on the couch cushion and wishing it was your lower back.
the long, loud groan nanami lets out sends a straight chill to your core and you hear it before you see it. you think maybe your chances are ruined, he has someone else and the dancing around each other was done just for fun, but you think a little peek wouldn’t help. your self care sessions are getting a little boring anyway.
the gasp doesn’t reach his ears either when you glance around the partition and you get the sight of your life: nanami thrusting into the sofa while still fully clothed, eyes closed and expression pulled into pleasure. you’re torn between arousal, modesty and relief and despite all that you still listen out for how turned on he was, the gross, dirty sounds of him rutting into something and yet you don’t know what. but you decide to play it safe, flipping back around to rest your back against the walled partition, hand reaching up your skirt and into your panties.
“(y/n) . . baby, g’na cum—” 
your eyes widen, your jaw drops but your hand on your clit never stops, rubbing in time with his thrusts as your other hand is probably making marks on your face by how hard you were trying to stop your moans from coming out. you’re already so wet that your ministrations are all messy and smeared, drawing haphazard circles just for a taste of that high as you soak and soak your panties.
“baby, baby, baby . . o-oh—” you swear under your breath, because who knew nanami kento could sound so damn good? you’re continuing the assault on your pussy, going past your clit and into your entrance and you wish it was his cock instead, but instead he’s fucking a pocket pussy imagining it’s you. too bad you don’t know that. “gonna cum in y-you—”
there’s a little crack in his voice and you involuntarily let out a soft moan and the movements are halted all of a sudden. in your panic, your foot spreads and the bottom of your shoe grazes against the wooden floor and your presence is fully made known, now.
“hello?” man, what the fuck? now they’re really not going to answer. nanami sifts through the possibilities: it couldn’t be any of the men, they know not to interrupt nanami when he’s working. shoko would only for alcohol . . you? you dig a deeper grave by making an incoherent noise in your throat and that’s when nanami’s fear really settles in. he wasn’t hallucinating anything — there really was someone calling out to him the first time and the gasp and now the little moan? but nanami has anything but luck, not being able to catch the person because you’re booking it out of there immediately, not exactly quiet due to the clicks of your heels and you want to go back into that exact grave to die.
you can hear and feel your heart in your throat, back lined with sweat more than it would be when fighting a curse. whilst, there was only one thing on your mind that slowly induces you into a downward spiral; he called your name, your name, your god-given name, the people address you by, he called—
standing by the little zen garden of the tokyo school, you can feel your clit throb and the breath taken out of you as the vision replays again and again in your head and you think yourself stupid for running out of there. but before you can turn back, gojo’s approaching with a big, shit-eating grin on his face and waves to you (“yaga told me to come get you, you’re not busy, are you?”).
swallowing, all you can do is shake your head, but not before you spare a last glance to nanami’s door which is now closed shut. you hear a click.
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mitsies · 1 year
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» THE TRAIN RIDE HOME ; itoshi rin «
; ↠ itoshi rin sees you every morning at 7. the moment you smile at him, he knows it's all over.
## author's note: i went thru the 7th circle of hell and a pack of malboros while writing this. enjoy! ## contents: itoshi rin x reader, feminine reader, crushing, canon-compliant i think? idk ur both like 17 so it works, confessions and fluff! ## wc: 13.2k (i'm unwell)
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itoshi rin likes to count the people as they board the train. it's a habit leftover from his childhood, where he'd sit with his little legs swinging, pointing everyone out to his brother. (passenger 4 wore blue every day, and passenger 18 always had cat fur on his coat, and so on.)
he collected minute details to store in his head, a way to de-stress from the rush hour of his life. every morning at 6, he'd go on a run, and then from his final destination, he'd take the train back. rin was a regular, and an observant one at that- so it was only a matter of time before he noticed you.
you sat diagonally from him, always with your hands in your lap, twirling around the loose threads on the cuffs of your sweater. that was the first thing he noticed about you- the white cable-knit zip-up you frequently donned.
it looked nice on you, he thought. you seemed cozy, almost, as cozy as one could be on a train at 7 in the morning. rin wondered where you were going, since you appeared too young to have a corporate job.
you were on the train whenever he boarded and got off 2 stops before he did. and itoshi rin couldn't help but watch as you left. you carried a canvas tote with a familiar character that he couldn't quite place, and you'd always smiled warmly at the sweet old lady to your right. there were paint splatters smudging your shoes and rin wonders if you liked to draw.
he’d never ask, though. because why would he? you were a pretty person on the train, and he was just another passenger.
rin thinks he’ll settle for just watching, for now. he never expects you to look his way.
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it’s a cloudy thursday when you aren’t sitting at your regular spot for the first time in at least a month. rin shouldn’t feel a tinge of disappointment, the way he does in the pit of his stomach now. he doesn’t even know you, so who is he to be upset by your absence?
it’s not until he takes his own regular place that he realizes- you weren't missing. you'd just shifted seats. you were next to him, now, bag in your lap and hands rested on top of it.
rin snaps his head away from you as soon as he realizes you're there, and he can feel his ears burning. you're not even looking at him, exchanging amicable conversation with the same elderly woman, who is now across from you rather than next to you. there's a mother with a little sleeping boy on her lap occupying your regular place, and he presumes that's the cause of your breech of pattern.
he's snapped back to reality when the old lady laughs and says a name that sounds so honeyed and sweet that it couldn't belong to anyone but you.
"you're just the funniest," chuckles the woman, "makes me feel young again."
your smile is wry. "i guess i picked that up from you, mrs. sato."
rin doesn't quite mean to eavesdrop on your quiet conversation, it kind of just happens. you were right next to him, how could he not? and he also didn't mean to sneak glances towards you whenever you were turned away. that was also an accident, a slip-up he was very grateful that no one else picked up on.
it wasn't his fault that you looked even prettier up close. it wasn't his fault that he wanted to memorize how you looked when you smiled, down to the minuscule creases and lines of your cheeks.
you bid mrs. sato goodbye with a polite tip of your head when the train reaches your stop. your shoes have new paint stains, and your jacket is collecting more lint. rin wonders if you've noticed. and he watches you go long after you're gone.
he's not expecting to be addressed, so it takes a few tries before mrs. sato gets his attention.
"hello! young man! hello," she waves a wrinkled hand in rin's face and he turns to her.
"so..." her eyes shine with a childlike mirth and rin is a bit scared because what is going on?
"you're not as sneaky as you think you are, boy."
rin stiffens. "what?"
"i see you peeking at my dear friend."
he blinks, unsure how to reply. it's not everyday that the 70-something year old woman your totally-not-a-crush is friends with confronts you about your staring problem.
"huh?" he asks dumbly.
the old woman rolls her eyes and the train lurches to a stop. "well. i'm out of town for who knows how long, and i wouldn't want them to be lonely. i'm sure you wouldn't, either."
she stands with a joking wink and rin fights the embarrassed scowl from creeping onto his face. he's positive that he's red right now, and he's giving his all to not be disrespectful to this elderly woman in public.
"well, be good to them." rin opens his mouth but she's already hobbling away. he sinks back into his seat and wishes it would eat him alive.
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rin sees you the next day, sitting in the same place as you were yesterday. he shifts to put a little more space between the two of you, a little embarrassed- his breathing is still heavy from his run, and he's sure he smells of sweat.
you notice and give him a soft smile, though something akin to confusion muddles your eyes. you must be wondering where mrs. sato is, but you don't bring it up.
"sorry," you apologize for nothing. you also scoot a little to the side, and rin almost wants to say 'no, don't move further, you didn't do anything,' but that would be creepy and he doesn't want to be that guy.
so instead he fights his resting bitch face and gives you a sharp nod without meeting your eyes, because his face is already hot from hearing your voice say a single word and he is rather humiliated by his limits. "you're fine."
rin thinks he sounds like a strangled cat and he'd punch himself in the face if you weren't right there. but you give him a smile, and he feels a strange elation, and god, was it always this warm on the train?
"you're on this train every day, right?" your voice is hushed, and rin wonders if it's because you're trying not to disturb the mother and her child (who are still cuddled into your usual spot) or if that's just your demeanor. either way, he wants to find out. he wants to know you.
"i am."
you seem to consider his words for a moment and rin realizes that this means you know him. or, at least, know of him. you've seen him every morning just as he's seen you- the realization sends a strange spark through his stomach.
"where are you headed to so early?"
"home. i run out here and take the train back."
"you're a runner?"
"something like that."
you hum, and before you turn away, rin speaks again. "where are you going?"
he watches as you turn your head back towards him, a genuine smile forming on your face. "i work at a primary school. it's not an official position, but i'm kind of the art teacher."
he raises his brows. "art teacher?"
"yeah! i started off as a volunteer, but i guess i fit better since i'm younger than regular teachers," you shrug, and rin thinks he could listen to you talk forever.
your voice is beautiful, he thinks. it suits your name, and you face, and he can't think about it much longer because otherwise he'll start burning alive. he's still not looking at you when you introduce yourself, because for the sake of his dignity he doesn't think he can.
he already knows your name but he thinks it sounds even prettier falling from your lips. and god, he messed up, because now he's thinking about your lips.
"itoshi rin," he manages to get out when it's his turn to introduce himself.
"itoshi rin," you repeat, and the boy thinks he might die right then and there. what is wrong with him?
you're about to say something more but you get a look out the window and realize it's almost your stop. grabbing your bag, you stand as the train stills.
"this is me. i guess i'll see you tomorrow, then."
"see you."
and then you're gone, just like that. the morning train is silent once more, save for the whirring as it begins to run again and the footsteps of passengers finding their places.
rin decides that he can't wait until tomorrow. he's not sure why.
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over the next few days, you and rin grow closer. or, you'd like to think you've become closer. you talk a lot more, about everything, and he sits and listens.
he knows about your favorite student at work, and how he had given you the doraemon tote bag that you always sported for your birthday last year. he knows about your cat named snorkel and how your friends always tried to set you up on dates. he knows about your favorite foods and how you hated sleeping with wet hair.
and rin decided that he would do anything to hear you talk. he acted uninterested, sure, but he hung off every word you said. he engraved every single sentence into the details of his memories, stowing away any information you'd give him in the catalogs of his brain.
it came to a point where every single one of his thoughts were tainted with the knowledge of you. you were all he could think about- he saw you in every crowd and smelt your perfume in the wind even when you weren't around.
it was pathetic, really, the way he searched for you in everything, and the way you appeared to him, too. especially since this 'infatuation' was the product of a few measly mornings and some half-asleep conversations.
this was pitiful, rin thought, he was pitiful. but he kept coming back.
(..and it was especially pitiful because you were kind of annoying.)
your smile was as radiant as it was infectious, and you really, really liked talking. you might've been a little hesitant to speak to rin at first, but that certainly wasn't true anymore. with the way you ran your mouth, anyone would think you'd been friends for years.
rin hated how you left him without things to say. he couldn't muster his usual cruelties when he spoke to you. usually, he just hummed along or gave you minimal replies. but the flow of the conversations you had were never dull, and they became a highlight of his day.
"you'll never guess what happened," you started, as soon as rin took his usual seat next to you one tuesday morning. he uncapped his water bottle and took a sip as you continued.
"yesterday morning, i told you about how we were doing an animal painting activity, right?"
"yeah."
"okay, so i had just finished my example and instructions, and i was helping this one little boy. he's really sweet, by the way, he just doesn't really like... paint. which is kind of counterproductive."
"mhm."
"but anyways, this other kid comes up to me- she's tugging on my sleeve, and she says 'i made you something!' and it's not like i never get paintings from students, so i'm all like 'oh, thank you! what is it!' fully expecting it to be just some drawing, right?"
"right."
"but she hands me my bag!"
it's then that rin notes that you aren't carrying your usual tote bag. instead, you have an old canvas satchel that's cute but not nearly as endearing as your previous one. he frowns.
"it was fully covered in paint- like, it was all over her hands and everything. no way i'm getting that bag back. so messy," you shudder.
"it was the one your student gave you last year, right?"
"yeah. i'm a little sad, but i can't be too upset. she was like, 7 years old. they do that."
you begin to prattle on about some other inane topic, and for the first time since he's met you, you don't have rin's full attention. you don't seem to notice, but he's already adding another item to his mental checklist.
‧̍̊ ˙ · 𓆝 . ° 。 ˚ 𓆛 ˚ 。 ° . 𓆞 · ˙ ‧̍̊
the following day, when rin boards the train, he doesn't greet you. he's holding something, and when he sits next to you he wordlessly drops it on your lap.
"what's this?" you fumble with the item in your hands- it's something light in a plain paper bag. rin doesn't reply, crossing his arms and slouching down in his seat. he stares straight ahead, eyes probably burning holes into the side of the train.
"okay, grouch. don't say anything, then."
"just open the bag, dumbass."
"jesus, fine."
you reach into the parcel, pulling out a denim bag. it's roomy and well-crafted, and a set of pins are stuck into the side. you recognize familiar cartoon characters, a paint palette, and a little train. for the first time since you've met rin, you're not sure what to say.
you stare down at the bag. rin stares at you. when you look up to meet his eye he whips his head away. but then he hears a shuffling, and your arms are around his neck, and he's frozen.
you're hugging him, and he can smell your hair, and he can't say a word. he thinks your shampoo smells like peaches. he would ask you if he was right if only he could find the words.
you're gone just as soon as you appeared and rin misses your warmth, but maybe a bit of it has transferred to him because he's all hot beneath the collar of his crewneck and he's feeling his face grow uncomfortably flushed.
he slumps back in his seat as you fiddle with the enamel pins- they're dainty and unique, and you're a little taken aback by how thoughtful they are. "i love this."
if rin were to try and form a coherent sentence, he thinks he might combust. so he just hums an 'mhm' and pries his gaze back to the opposing window, a little humiliated by how difficult it is for him to take his eyes off you.
he thinks he's done a pretty good job of cooling himself down until your hand is on his forearm. the contact feels icy against his hot, flushed skin and it sends a shiver down his spine as he turns to meet your gaze again.
"thank you," you say and your hands gently squeeze his arm, "this means so much to me. really."
this isn't the first time you've left him speechless, but it's the first time you've witnessed just how potent your effect on rin really is. you smile at him again before leaving him be, continuing to fiddle with the bag while he recuperates.
you keep talking at him but it's in one ear and out the other, and by the time it's your stop he's only a little bit better. you stand when the train stops and the window's light trickles through the opened doors and falls upon your lips like they're being highlighted just for him. he blinks the thought away.
"i'll see you tomorrow morning, rin," you say as you hold your bag close to your side, its new contents sitting heavy in the bottom. rin only nods and crosses his arms.
he hopes that little expression can contain the vast expanse of indescribable emotions that he feels for you, but he knows he's unfair for that because even rin himself hasn't been able to comprehend them.
he's not sure why he doesn't see you as a bother or distraction. he's not sure why he'd be disappointed whenever you didn't continue a conversation or praise the littlest things in a way he'd never expect from anyone else. he's not sure why he's so determined to make you smile, and he's even more uncertain as to what the strange, strange sensation he experiences whenever he succeeds is.
he's not sure, he's not sure, he's not sure, but he thinks he loves it.
he frowns. rin loves how you make him feel. his frown grows deeper at the realization. his eyelids flutter shut and he tips his head back against the edge of his seat, a dull thump sounding as it hits the metal.
he thinks he'll ignore this realization, for now.
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it's almost a week after rin's gotten you the bag, and it's become your new everyday option. he can't help but think it looks especially good with your white zip-up and he applauds himself silently for his fashion choices.
the bag already has some tiny, colourful fingerprints decorating the sides and streaked up from where you'd presumably snatched your property out of your students' grabby little hands.
the thought makes his lips quirk upwards into a tiny little half-smile, one that's barely there but you pick up on all the same. pausing in the middle of your sentence, you ask him: "what're you thinking about?"
if rin was smooth, and if he was interested in you, he'd reply with 'just you, babe,' or something else that would make you blush and make him want to die inside. but rin is not smooth, nor is he sure how he feels about you.
it's nothing short of sickening, how you continue to take residence in his mind constantly. if he thought it was bad when he'd first started talking to you, it was a thousand times worse now. rin kind of wishes he could go back in time for the sole purpose of beating the shit out of the past him as a warning to not let you do this to him.
because, if he was being honest, he was scared. the premonition that his feelings toward you might be something like attraction was horrific because god, what was he supposed to do?
his entire life was dedicated to being the best. he was born to be on top and he'd die on that podium, looking down on everyone else. in the past, he'd cared about nothing else but winning.
his dreams, for the longest time, were plagued by pedestals and gold medals, and trophies with his last name but someone else's first. he'd fall asleep to his mind's eye envisioning blood pooling in his gut as he bled for his crown, his crown that was always out of reach.
and then you showed up in them. rin couldn't decide if you made his dreams better or worse. (okay, that was a lie- definitely better, but he's not ready to admit that quite yet.)
in the midst of his bad dreams, you'd come to him, sitting pretty on the train next to him. you'd talk but he'd never be able to remember what you said come morning.
this was bad, rin thinks, he was bad. he was awful and horrible and wrong because he should be dreaming about winning and not you. you were distracting him, being on his mind all the time. while he ran to the train stop, a task that usually cleared his tired mind, all he could picture was you, you, you, waiting for him.
that was another thing. you were waiting for him, and he couldn't not show up. rin's considered changing his routine so he could keep away from you for the sole purpose of fighting his maybe-crush and being able to focus on his sport. he's thought about not replying to your texts, which you sent every afternoon to check in and ask how he was.
but then he pictured you, alone on the train, and he couldn't. the thought of you getting friendly with anyone but him made his skin crawl. what if that boy who sat on the other side by the door tried to talk to you while he wasn't there?
no, no, rin couldn't have that. not when he liked you this much- it was far too late to let go. he'd already done this to himself.
so he keeps coming back, every single morning, just to see your face. there was no denying it anymore- rin liked you. too bad he'd never say a thing.
"rin?" your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. "what's up?"
he glares at you like he hates you, but you know better and so does he. "nothing."
you tilt your head. he stares right back at you before conceding. "the paint smudges on your sweater and stuff."
"hm. what about them?"
"your job must be hard."
if he's being honest, rin doesn't really care about what you do. he's just trying very hard to not let the fact that he was smiling thinking about you show.
"it's not that bad," you say, "well, i mean- tedious, sure. plus i hardly get paid, i'm not under contract, and they could just decide to stop paying me at any point since there's nothing making them, technically."
rin raises an eyebrow. "and you say it's not that bad?"
"it's not! really!"
"and you work with kids."
"yeah, so not that bad."
"that's worse." you make a face at him and he fights another smile because how do you do this to him so easily?
"i swear it's not as bad a job as it seems."
"it's not even a job, technically," rin points out.
"okay, okay, you can stop making fun of my position, rin."
your use of his name makes his heart do something weird and nauseating in his chest and he hates it. "whatever."
you hum in contemplation before sitting up in your seat with an idea. "how about you come with me today?"
rin stiffens. "what?"
you don't flinch at his unintentionally bittered tone, and rin feels something strange inside him again. he feels a bit like a fish out of water, being put on the spot like that.
"well, i mean- only if you're free, of course," you twist away from rin ever-so-slightly as you start to backtrack, hands finding their way to fiddle with a strand of your hair, "i don't wanna overstep or anything, and i know you're probably busy and we're just-"
"no."
rin's voice cuts you off. "oh. that's cool, i'm sorry i asked."
oh. that wasn't what he meant to say at all. "no, no, wait. i mean no, stop talking."
"oh. i said i was sorry."
he's really just digging his own grave, at this point.
"wait, wait, wait. i mean.. no, stop talking, yes, i'll go with you."
it's almost comical how you brighten up in a heartbeat, and a strange twinge of pride at the fact that his presence could do that to you zips through his chest.
"oh, i'm great. i mean- that's great. this is great. i'm so excited." you fiddle with the sleeves of your sweater and the enamel pins on your bag that he got you jingle and rin thinks that he's stupid for ever considering avoiding you.
and again- if he was a better man, he'd say so. but he's not, so he side-eyes you instead. "are you sure this is even allowed?"
"i am. as long as you're not some kind of criminal, or whatever." you look back at him, eyes creased with amusement. "you're not, yeah?"
"nope. just a few aggravated assault charges." he's only kind of joking (because injuries on the field do not count against him outside of it), and his voice is dry with sarcasm. he's not expecting you to laugh but you do, and he thinks everything he's done to lead up to this moment has been worth it.
"lovely. then you'll be fine. i hope you're good with kids, rin."
his mouth falls into a frown. he'd forgotten about that. he's about to say something but the train lurches or a stop and you're standing, prompting him to follow.
it occurs to rin that this is the first time the both of you have stood next to each other. the slight widening of your eyes at his obscene height is something that amuses him, but he chooses not to comment on.
he also keeps silent about how your beat-down and paint-smudged pair of shoes squeak ever-so-slightly as they exit the train. you move with a slight bounce in your step that makes the shoes pivot and squeal a little in a way that should irritate rin and not endear you to him the way it does.
it's only a short way to the school you work at from the train station, and you talk about menial things the whole way. rin's arms are crossed uncomfortably over his chest as he walks, and the plush insides of his deep blue sweater suddenly feel too hot, and he's feeling clammy even though the sun is hardly out.
you walk through the front office with rin in tow, tailing you while looking incredibly uncomfortable the whole time. the front office ladies chuckle like they know something he doesn't when you check him in and rin kind of wants to punch them. he doesn't, though.
when you lead him to your classroom (or, more precisely- a large storage room that was reassembled with tables and chairs to become a classroom) he's not surprised to find it colorful and bright.
the walls which aren't big windows are practically covered in various pieces- hand turkeys, landscapes, various misshapen animals, crude imitations of people- and a few pieces that are undoubtedly from a much more skilled artist. there are beautiful scenes that look like they're from movies, and there are unique interpretations that seem like they took painstakingly long to create.
he walks up to one- a faceless pair of women. one is sitting on the kitchen counter and the other stirs a bowl of something that looks like cookie dough. it's simple, it's sweet, and it's beautifully made. "you painted this?"
you're placing your bag down on the chair that sits behind the teacher's desk, which is just a repurposed old table. "i did. that's really old, though. kind of embarrassing."
"it's not." his finger traces his newest observation about the painting- your name scrawled in the corner. "it's not."
he's not looking at you, but he knows you're staring at him. he won't look back now, but he wonders what you're thinking. he imagines your quizzical expression, and he imagines the sun filtering in through the windows making you shine as you absorb every colour in the room.
he imagines you looking at him, and he thinks it's the prettiest sight he's ever thought up.
the bell rings after a beat of silence passes. the shrill noise draws you both from your stupor, and rin turns to see you walking around, busying yourself with placing a piece of thick watercolour paper on each desk.
"well," you say, and rin might be imagining it but your voice is a little choked, "we've got.. 2 classes? yeah, two. both will be 7-year-olds today. think you can deal with that?"
rin's eyes narrow. "i thought you said i wouldn't have to deal with any kids."
your face contorts into a smile. "yeah. i know. you can just sit in the back and watch. i'll get them to not bother you."
you gesture to a tiny little desk situated in the back corner of the room and rin cringes internally as he walks up to it. he sees you biting back a laugh and glares. as he takes a seat, his knees are up to his chest and his arms are draped uncomfortably over them.
"this isn't funny," he deadpans as you bite your tongue. with a humiliating amount of effort, he removes himself from the tiny chair and walks back over to the teacher's desk where you stand, crossing his arms over his chest.
"in my defense, i didn't compensate for how tall you'd be. you can just be at my desk, i don't mind."
you place your bag down onto the floor in the corner and rin moves to take your seat. all you have on your desk is a pile of books that are collecting dust, and a dingy computer setup that seemed like it was from the stone ages. there's a series of sticky notes on the black screen- he knows he shouldn't, but he reads a few.
there's a few about restocking some supplies, and even more about various lesson plans. rin thinks you put an awful lot of work into a position that technically isn't legal. and then, his eyes land on his name- in pink pen that stands out on the yellow paper, 'itoshi rin' is scrawled on with a myriad of stars and hearts and squiggles surrounding it.
rin blinks, half expecting the message to vanish. it doesn't. his hand reaches out to take the note but he's interrupted by the room door slamming open and a gaggle of children bursting in.
their teacher seems exhausted, and rightfully so, especially considering it was barely 8 in the morning. she takes a seat close to the exit and slumps over, seemingly asleep, as the students spread around the room.
they take places behind desks and fist the provided paintbrushes in their little grubby hands, chattering amongst themselves as if it's not insanely early. rin watches as you bounce around the room, conversing with the kids who call your name.
his gaze doesn't leave you once, as you move to the front of the classroom to begin your speech on today's assignment. he's only half-listening, but he catches short phrases. it's something about practicing watercolour responsibly and learning to work with a new medium.
rin's never been an art kid. he's never seen the appeal. but the way you seem so excited to be there, and so genuinely happy to teach, makes him think that he should be listening, too.
the kids start to paint, now. he notices how some of them start with a pencil, tracing crude outlines of whatever they're trying to make, while others dive headfirst into the watercolour. you weave around desks lavishing them in praise, and rin wonders what you were like when you were their age.
little feet begin to scramble around the classroom as the assigned seating chart dissolves with time. you don't seem to care all too much, continuing to help a student- a little girl, with tiny, short pigtails tied off with purple scrunchies.
he doesn't realize he's been watching you until the girl catches his eye and says something he can only kind of make out. "who's that guy lookin' at you all mean?"
her finger points straight at rin, and he promptly pretends like he was very invested in the blank screen of your 1900s computer. he sneaks a glance back to see your eyes fixed on him before returning to the girl with an awkward laugh.
"ah, him! he's.. my friend. he's just sticking with me today," you smile, and feels himself sink into the chair deeper. he's not sure what he feels at the use of the word 'friend' but he doesn't think he likes it.
but it was a fine answer. it was decent, it was true- what, did he expect more? if he did, clearly he wasn't the only one because the little girl with the pigtails gives you a look. rather loudly, she exclaims "you mean your boyfriend?"
you blanch at her words and rin's subtle gaze returns to a full-on stare as he watched your reactions. "asami, not so loud! indoor voices," you try to sound authoritative but your voice splinters and sea of little faces is suddenly turned to face you.
and then, slowly, like a horror movie, the 20-something 7-year-olds pivot to face rin.
a little voice speaks up. "you're ms. teacher's boyfriend?"
in a normal scenario, rin would probably linger on the fact that you were addressed as 'ms. teacher' as if you had no other name. but with an ocean of inquisitive eyes, yours especially, he felt a little frozen. just as he was about to snap open his mouth to say something probably cruel and snippy, you jumped in.
rushing to the front of the crowd you wave your hands frantically, trying to maintain your cheery disposition while sweating through your clothes with anxiety. "no, no! he's- he's not my boyfriend! and don't bother him, please, he doesn't.. speak the language! he's from.. germany!"
it's a bad lie. horrible, even. and it would take a fool to fall for it- either a fool or a collection of unbelievably innocent children.
"oh!" one pipes up, "is that why he's so mean and doesn't talk?"
you furrow your brow. "we don't call people mean, remember."
and just like that, everything is back to normal. or, at least, however normal this situation could be. the students resume their artistry and continue scurrying like mice around the room to show off their creations or grab fresh sheets of paper.
you walk up to rin, and he hopes his ears have turned less red at this point as you sit on the desk in front of him. "see? not so bad."
he narrows his eyes. "are we in the same room right now? did you not just see that?'
you sigh dramatically and place your hands behind you as you slouch back. "maybe they're right. you are mean."
"okay?"
"you should be ashamed of yourself, y'know."
"you really do sound like a schoolteacher." at this you laugh and swat at his shoulder, eliciting a tiny could-be smile from rin. "never say that to me again."
and it seems like cutting rin off is a fun activity, because a little boy with messy brown hair skips up to the desk and basically shouts, "hello!"
the thing is, he's not talking to you- he's talking to rin. big, doe eyes are fixed on the striker expectantly, and he rolls back and forth on heels while clutching something in his hands behind his back.
rin blinks. "hi."
he sounds mean, he's sure, and definitely not german, but the kid doesn't seem to notice or care. "i think germ-in-ey is so neat! i made you this!"
the country is pronounced like he's speaking with rocks in his mouth but the boy's smile is bright and he holds a kind-of crumbled piece of watercolour paper in his hands.
it's still dripping and incredibly poorly done. what appears to be a house? or a building of some kind? is splattered onto a green line that might be grass. a blob that could be a body if you squinted hard enough is attached to a big oval with messy dark hair, angry eyebrows paired with neon blue eyes, and the biggest eyelashes the world has ever seen. they extended from all the way inside the eye to the sticks that rin supposes must be hands.
a random rectangle with doodles inside is in the top left corner. a little label reads 'german flag' in pencil.
rin blinks at the paper and looks dully at the kid. he feels your eyes staring into him, too, and he opens his mouth before closing it again, unsure of what to say.
"this looks bad," he speaks before he knows what's coming, eyes widening at his own words. a deep pit of guilt opens in his stomach as the boy retracts his hands with the paper. oh, my god, what did he just say?
he is unbelieveably lucky that you are still next to him at that moment, because you jump in to save the day yet again:
"haru! don't worry about him- he's german, remember? he doesn't know how to say what he means! bad in german actually just.. uh.. means really, really good!"
the boy instantly brightens up again, like a wilting flower back in bloom. "really? that's so cool! i didn't know they spoke german in germ-in-ey!"
you return his bright smile. "how crazy! what a small world!"
the little boy skips away, leaving his masterpiece in your hands, and rin lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"oh, wow," you say with a sparkle of amusement in your eyes, "i didn't know you were this horrid with kids."
a grumble of annoyance leaves him, but he's more embarrassed than anything at this point. "and i didn't know i was german."
you shrug. "it was the first thing that came to mind. it worked, didn't it?"
rin ignores your question. "i can't believe you let that kid go off thinking 'bad' means good. he's gonna go around telling everyone that."
"i.. did not consider this," you purse your lips, "it's his teacher's problem. i don't even work here, technically."
"so you're a random person who comes onto campus and spreads lies to children."
a smile splits your face. "at least i'm a nice liar."
"nice?"
"oh. ouch. okay, thanks rin."
and he exhales, and it's no longer just a half-smile, because you see it so clearly on his face- the way his lips turn up at your words as he speaks. "yeah. anytime."
it's then that itoshi rin has a moment of infinite clarity- he's fallen for you. he doesn't like that fact, nor does he understand the intricacies of this romance.
he likes you. that's all there is to it. rin doesn't see why there needs to be any more. it's not like he'll tell you and even though the feeling of repressed and realized emotions in his chest is something a little unbearable, he's dealt with worse. and he thinks he'd rather keep his mornings beautiful than run the risk of messing it all up.
so rin thinks he'll settle for being in your background, as he watches you hop off the desk and move to help the students as they finish their paintings and clean up.
they sing a stupid jingle about keeping things neat that makes you laugh in the way you do where your head tips back just a little, and rin swears it's his favourite sound in the world.
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it's another hour and another class before you're finally done with your work. the second one was thankfully a lot less strenuous for rin- none of the students paid him much mind at all, save for the occasional curious glance every so often.
"bye ms. teacher!" the final student belted before leaving, slamming the door with a resounding thud. you wave cheerfully and take a deep breath as soon as the kid is out of sight. "and we're done! how was that, rin? you just got the full fake-teacher experience."
rin stands from his place behind your desk and stretches out his limbs, slightly sore from being in one place for so long. "as bad as i thought it'd be."
"you're always so negative."
"glad you noticed."
you roll your eyes and grab a spray bottle and washcloths off the highest shelves. "help me clean?"
wordlessly, he catches the rag you toss and the other bottle. the two of you work in silence for a few moments, wiping down the desks that the students had done their best at keeping neat. the only noises were the muffled sounds of the cafeteria during lunchtime outside and the ever-present squeaks your shoes made.
the lighting through the window lit the scene golden and turned all the colors and textures and works in your classroom even more beautiful. and not just them- rin thinks that you look breathtaking in the sunlight. a part of him suspects that it was invented just for you.
"what did you think?"
rin looks up at your voice. "hm?"
"what did you think? about this, i mean."
he looks at you for a moment. this is a new expression, the one you're wearing- at least, one he's never been able to observe unobstructed. you almost seem bashful, in the sunlight, refusing to meet his eyes.
"i think," he says, and he's so careful because he thinks he'd die of embarrassment if he misspoke and insulted you again, "that this makes sense."
"what?"
he frowns, not wanting to explain himself. "you loving this. it makes sense."
"i actually have no idea what you mean by that."
he scoffs, "whatever," but you keep pushing, curiously leaning over the table and placing your washcloth down.
"you can't just 'whatever' me. i'm curious now."
"you're irritating."
"i'm aware." you keep looking at him and it's no surprise to him when his conviction crumbles into dust and ash.
"you just seem like an art person." he tries and fails to get his point across. you raise a brow. "are you profiling me? what, do i seem like your starving artist trope?"
"no, no," he grumbles, "like, you're.."
and he's not sure.
rin has no idea how to follow up his words. because he thinks so many things of you- he thinks you're kind, in ways he will never be, and he thinks you're pretty enough to rival the sun, and he thinks you're flat out lovely- but he can't convey it all into one word.
"you're just you," he says. it's a simple statement, said with a conviction that doesn't match the quiet tone of his voice. he speaks softly, like he's afraid you might disappear if he was too loud.
blinking, you meet his gaze, and rin hopes you can see yourself how he sees you in the reflection. he hopes you see yourself like gold, and all the colours in the world, and as the essence of creativity- he hopes you know that he sees you as art, plain and simple.
but your expression is unreadable. he wonders if his is, too. and rin also wonders what you see when you look at him, because you're suddenly inhaling sharply and pivoting, busing yourself with straightening up jaws that don't really need to be fixed.
"well, rin," you say, and your voice is a pitch higher, "i didn't mean to keep you so long. i'm sorry you got held up here."
you're laughing, but it sounds strained, and rin wishes he could go up and smooth whatever's bothering you out from your skin, but that's creepy so he'd rather not.
"i didn't stay so long because you made me or anything. i wanted to."
"oh." you freeze for a split second before continuing to scrub a little too vigorously, "uh. thanks."
"i like your paintings," he blurts out. it's not fitting as a response, and he should've just said 'you're welcome' and moved on with his life, but he feels like he needs to say something, and relieve at least a fraction of the burden off his chest. he likes your paintings, and he likes you, but he can't say that quite yet.
"oh! i didn't take you as an art connoisseur."
"i'm not."
and he was telling the truth- rin knew virtually nothing about art. he remembers his own experiences with the subject, all limited to his pre-teen years in school, where he'd been forced to make whatever the teacher commanded.
his work had always been lopsided and a little fugly, but in the spirit of learning no one had ever said anything. it was always 'that's so good!' or 'you're so creative!' or 'nice cat!' when it was meant to be a tree.
"not even a little bit?" you hum as you lean onto your tiptoes, struggling to push a bottle of cleaning solution back into the space. rin moves to your side, placing it on for you. he misses how you go breathless at his actions.
"was never an art kid," he says simply.
you purse your lips in that stupid way he's noticed you do when something doesn't go right, and shake your head. "i don't buy it."
he raises an eyebrow. "what?"
"i don't believe that."
"you're just.. rejecting my statement?"
"yeah. everyone's an art kid."
rin considers your words before shaking his head. "no. you're just weird."
rolling your eyes, you're suddenly gone again to the front of the classroom, rifling through a set of overworked cabinets that seem to be bursting at the seams. you come back to the desk rin was standing by with a full arm of various supplies- he recognizes paper, canvas, pencils, gouache paints, and brushes.
"everyone's an art kid," you repeat, "you just never had anyone show you right."
"you sound fucking crazy."
"yeah, probably," you reply, motioning for him to sit down on the chair. he complies, and you hop up to take a seat on the desk again.
"and cheesy as hell. like a stupid nickelodeon character."
"that's a little far. be nicer to me! i'm about to give you free painting lessons."
"ones that i didn't ask for."
you sit back on your hands. "you could leave if you wanted."
rin is silent. you smile. "lessons it is."
‧̍̊ ˙ · 𓆝 . ° 。 ˚ 𓆛 ˚ 。 ° . 𓆞 · ˙ ‧̍̊
you might have been a little bit incorrect in your approach. rin is kind of a little bit hopeless with art.
"just a straight line," you're practically begging, "just one. you can do it."
rin proceeds to draw another very un-straight line to go with all the other ones on the piece of paper.
that was okay, though! maybe pencils just weren't for him. you could live with that. you'd brought out some paints just for this possibility, after all.
painting is difficult to mess up. you slap some colors on a canvas, call it modern art, and you're set- that was your philosophy. anyone could paint. anyone, you now think, except for itoshi rin.
"are you colourblind?" you say, and you're not trying to be mean, you're genuine, because he had just used the most horrendous choice of color palate he could have had.
"shut up," he scowls, covering his face with his hands. "you're a shit teacher."
you gawk at him. "how is this on me?"
"your stupid 'art kid' philosophy. plus, you've just been staring, not teaching."
you frown. okay, yeah, maybe you had been a little bit stare-y, but it's not really your fault. he just has one of those faces that would be criminal not to stare at. an idea pops up in your mind, and you hop off the desk.
rin turns his head to follow you as you move behind him. "what are you doing?"
"i'm teaching," you bite back playfully, leaning over his figure. you take a hold of his hand with the paintbrush, and you're both so close that you can hear his heartbeat speeding up inside of his chest. you wonder if he can feel yours do the same.
your hand ghosts his before you take a hold, grabbing it gently. his palms are warm and his whole body seems to radiate heat. the skin of his hand is rough and calloused.
"like this," you instruct, dragging the brush slowly across the canvas. it's already a smoother, straighter line than his previous ones. rin remains speechless, but he lets you take control of his movements. you direct him gently and he moves in return, like a slow dance on canvas.
after some time, a scene is playing out on the formerly blank space before the both of you. it's the classroom, complete with the yellowed lighting of the sun coming through the windows and the blocks of color to represent the various works hanging on the walls. it's a crude imitation of reality, but a piece of you and a piece of him, and you think that makes it beautiful.
"see?" you say, breaking the silence, "you did that."
you move to release your grip on rin's hand but he clasps his other one over it without thinking. you blink at him. he lets go, embarrassed.
"you did most of the work," he shrugs off, but it feels like he's just talking to himself, "i was just there."
"hm. you're right, but come on! give yourself some credit."
your attempt to lighten the heavy tension in the air falls onto deaf ears. "i should go," he mumbles, standing.
"oh."
"bye." his words lack the usual edge, and he seems more confused than upset. still, you wonder if you've overstepped and a pit forms in your stomach.
"bye," you say, but he's already out the door.
you try not to be too upset about it, but it's a little difficult. you've liked rin since before you even knew his name, and you were far too stubborn to let it go just yet.
you'd been almost 100% he felt the same, too. but again, your pride wouldn't allow you to make the first move. and his reaction to the closeness didn't bode well for your intentions.
a surge of disappointment consumes your chest and everything suddenly feels a lot heavier. your regular cable-knit feels itchy and too hot on your skin. you bite your tongue.
your friends have mocked you for your infatuation with this faceless 'itoshi rin.' they've encouraged you to move on from this crush that was seemingly going nowhere until almost a month ago, even going as far as to try and set you up with someone. maybe you should finally look into that offer,
you sigh to yourself and flop back onto the hard wood of the desk. oh well, you think, you'll see him tomorrow anyway.
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the next week of early morning train rides is missing something.
rin notices it almost right away- how you sit a little farther from him, you you're just a little more skittish and quick to leave. it's a stab in the gut every single time, and he's not sure how he can mend the undeniable rift forming between the both of you.
he's not sure what happened. was it his leaving? had that upset you? why?
the invisible wound of unspoken words festered like mould as the morning conversations grew shorter and stiffer, and he felt helpless like he never had before.
and then, you bring something up that makes his heart plummet.
"this afternoon? i think i have a date, actually."
he shouldn't be mad. he shouldn't be upset. but doesn't he have the right? the person he likes, and ew, he hates admitting that, is going on a date with someone else.
"oh."
"mhm. my best friend's friend- she's been trying to get me to go out with him for ages."
"oh."
"tomorrow night, i think it is."
"hm."
"i hope it goes well."
"why?"
again, rin's mouth runs separately from his conscience. he wants to hit himself. you have no obligation to answer, because the both of you are just friends, maybe even less.
you blink, looking over at him. "i mean.. why not?"
the rest of the train ride continues in awkward silence until you get off. you give him a brief smile but you don't say goodbye, and rin watches your figure walk away until the train starts again and he can't anymore.
there is a very strange emotion, that rin is experiencing. he recognizes parts of it- that same bitter, green envy that curls around his lungs and squeezes til he can't breathe. he's familiar, but never in this context.
and then there's something darker that hurts his chest. it reminds him of growing pains, and of valentine's day, and of things he never thought he could have wanted. it reminds rin of you, and he is so, so distraught.
that afternoon, he waits for your text. usually, your messages are usual, like clockwork. you'd message him around 1 when you were on the train ride home, either to update him about your day or send him a game pigeon game.
he always indulged your messages, and he'd never let you see but you were one of the pinned contacts on his phone.
that day, however, your text never comes.
he's so pathetic for how he sits in the locker room at 2, alone, staring at his phone screen. he's sad for how he's taking a break from practicing at 3 just in case you message. he's stupid for how he spends the next few hours just waiting for a notification that he knows will probably never come.
it's 10 now, and rin has never felt more tired.
he's about to go to bed, having his night clothes lined up on his bed and brushing his teeth in the bathroom mirror. it was an average, regular day- there was nothing special nor abnormal, but everything just felt so wrong.
he wonders if you were on your date then, as he spits his toothpaste into the sink. he wonders what you wore- if you donned your white cable-knit or your squeaky paint-smudged shoes. he wonders if you carried the bag he got you, pins and all. he wonders if your date held open the door like he would have, or if he joked around with you like he did (kind of.)
rin wonders where you were. he wonders if you were okay.
and then, his phone rings.
your name lights up his screen and suddenly, he's not so exhausted. he answers a little too haistily on the 1st ring.
"hello?"
there's a short pause, but he can hear the way your breath comes in short huffs on the other side of the line. this was strange- the both of you had never called before.
"rin?" your voice is crackly in a way he could accredit to the poor reception wherever you were, but something in his heart wrenches and there's an undertone that is undeniably distress in your voice.
"yeah? what's up?" he's already bustling around his home, though, grateful he hasn't changed yet as he pulls out his shoes.
"are you doing anything?"
"no," he lies.
"i'm sorry then, 'cause i know it's late, but- um, yeah. i'm about to get on the train. like usual, just the night one. but, i don't want to bother you, so-"
"no. keep going."
another silence follows rin's words before you continue. "could you.. come here? i know it's dumb, askin' you to ride the train here just to come back with me but," and your voice cracks, "i don't really want to be alone right now."
rin exhales. he's already outside, walking briskly through the cold night air with his free hand stuffed in his jeans pockets as he makes his way to the train stop.
"i'm on my way."
‧̍̊ ˙ · 𓆝 . ° 。 ˚ 𓆛 ˚ 。 ° . 𓆞 · ˙ ‧̍̊
when rin gets on the night train, you're the only other passenger on board. you're huddled up in your usual seat with your knees drawn up to your chin and eyes misty with something dismal. you look at rin and he's heartbroken for you, because nothing should ever make you this upset.
but you offer him a weak grin and move to sit normally, patting his seat next to you. he notes that you are indeed carrying the same bag he got you.
the new distance isn't present when he takes his place beside you. in fact, he's so close tonight that he can almost feel your thigh brush his. he eyes you cautiously, unsure how to begin. thankfully, you answer his questions before he needs to ask.
"remember my date?" rin nods. how could he forget?
"it was kind of awful," you concede with a watery laugh. "he was all fine, at first- but i just wasn't interested. he asked for a second date, and i said no thanks- he just- he yelled at me. called me all sorts of things. i dunno."
his heart tightens in his chest as you keep going. "it's not a big deal but i didn't really- i'm not sure. i'm not sure."
he doesn't think too much about his next actions, as his hand curls around your shoulder. you're all too complacent, letting yourself be pulled into the warm fabric of his crewneck. he hopes you can hear his heartbeat pick up its pace. he hopes yours does the same.
rin allows you to bury yourself in his warmth, to acquaint yourself for a few moments before he starts talking. "last week i went to the grocery store and i saw this lady with her cats," he said.
you glance up at him quizically but his arm holds fast, keeping you there as he continues: "she was old. probably too old to be toting around all those groceries.
"i would've offered to help but then i took another look- she was ripped."
a muffled laugh escapes you. "for real?"
"yeah. i mean it."
"a ripped old lady with cats, huh? what was she getting?"
"blueberries."
he thinks he feels your smile against the fabric of his clothes. "blueberries. that's nice."
"and just a few days ago, i think, i was on my run and i passed by this apartment, right?"
"mhm."
"and i hear yelling. so i stop."
"yeah?"
"on the balcony of the apartment, there was this woman and some guy. they were in their 20s, i think. and she was screaming at him."
"oh? what about?"
your voice is thickening again, but this time with exhaustion. the occurrences of your day were finally weighing on you, rin presumes. he keeps talking.
"something about him being unfaithful. then she threw his gaming console off the balcony."
"oh," you say, with a slight yawn, "that sounds so funny. i wish i was there."
"me too."
rin really should break this habit he's beginning to form. it definitely isn't a great idea to share all his innermost thoughts with you always- but lucky for him, you seem too tired to notice the accidental compliment.
"good for her," you mumble.
"good for her," he repeats.
you tilt prop your chin up on him to meet his gaze. your eyes are heavy with exhaustion and bags are formed beneath your eyes, and your hair is frazzled and messy but rin thinks this might be the prettiest he's ever seen you.
you're dead on your feet, but you're still looking at him. you're feeling so many things and you're still you. his hand absentmindedly flutters accross the back of your head to flatten your hair as you begin to speak.
"you're so nice." is all you say. rin looks at you, incredulous.
"you are," you insist, breaking away from him for a moment with your hand pushing yourself off of his chest. "you wanted to help that old woman. you heard yelling and stopped in case someone needed help. you're here at 10pm after i messed everything up."
rin blinks.
you've always been the kind of person to make him think. you made him reconsider his own future, his capacity for love, his interest in romance- you made him think about it all. but there was one thing that was a constant, that he didn't think even you could make him reconsider- the fact that he wasn't a good person.
it's then that it dawns upon itoshi rin- he doesn't see himself as worth loving. his life's purpose was success, and without it, was he even worth caring about? and on top of all that, he was cruel.
he cared about no one. he was blunt, and he was unfriendly, and when he was in school people walked away. the neighborhood kids all hid from him, and his teammates never bothered to even try and introduce him to new faces anymore.
itoshi rin was mean and cruel, a fact that he had decided for himself and then been enforced by the people around him. itoshi rin was not worth anything without a gold medal to demonstrate his value. itoshi rin was not worth caring about, because he'd just hurt you. itoshi rin didn't think himself even capable of wanting anything but to win.
and itoshi rin was proven wrong the day he met you.
because he'd fallen for you, with your shoddy footwear and worn-out zip-up that could hardly be considered white anymore. he'd fallen for you and the way you always had something to say, and he'd fallen for you, who could see the art in anything- even hideous artwork made by unskilled 7-year-olds, even teenage boys who couldn't find it in themselves to admit that they loved you.
you must've changed him, he thinks, or at least brought out a part of him that he'd long since forgotten had existed. because now, on this train at 10 pm with you still staring at him with intent, tired eyes- he thinks he sees it, too, in a way that he thinks you might've been trying to get him to see from perhaps the very beginning.
he sees himself, itoshi rin, as artwork. and he sees you- the artist.
it's beautiful, how the world explodes into colour at that moment. the night sky outside the train window has never been quite so beautiful, and he thinks he can see all the stars in the world even though he's not even looking at them. his eyes are trained on yours, and there's nothing left to do, say, or realize, so he just pulls you back into himself and keeps talking.
"and then two days ago, i think, i was at practice. and my teammate opens his locker, and a squirrel falls out. nanase- that's his name- was terrified."
it's almost comical, how the roles have reversed. usually, you were the storyteller, and he was the patient listener. he doesn't remember the last time he spoke to someone in such a one-sided fashion for so long, but he doesn't really care anymore.
"apparently it was bachira. no one was really surprised."
he looks down at you, and you're finally asleep. your breathing is even, and he can only partially see your face. your cheeks are patchy from previous tears, but the way your features are relaxed amends for the hurt. his hand holds your head close, still, fingers absently massaging your scalp.
the silence carries on for a few beats. he watches your inhales and exhales when you do. when he finally talks, he's even quieter.
"i missed talking to you," he finally admits. it's almost as if he's admitting this to himself rather than you, with the way he leaves the words to hang in the air.
"so much," he adds, "it was fucking gross."
he continues to speak. perhaps this was his confession- he'd tell you his truths, the fact that he liked you, and the fact that he'd never be able to say it to your face. he doesn't see the harm, not on the empty night train with just him to hear.
"when we were all.. distant. i hated that. i had so much to say to you. i guess i always have. because," he lets an aggravated sigh, "i just didn't know.
"you're rubbing off on me, i guess. you and your stupid.. i dunno. just you. you make me so weird inside."
he pauses like he's waiting for you to say something, even though he knows you can't even register his words. he frowns and rewinds:
"that day. a week and a day ago. i left.
"you were so close to my face, so close to me- i dunno. i guess- i guess i just panicked. because i shouldn't like you. you're so.. you. and i'm nowhere near that. so i left.
"i wanted to kiss you. i want to all the time, it's fucking awful. when you told me about your date today? i hated every second of that. i just wanted to tell you but i couldn't. i don't know why, though.
"i still can't tell you. don't know if i will. but it's out there, now. i like you," rin laments, the last words foreign and unwelcome on his tongue.
"i like you. i like you a lot."
rin thinks his words should be followed by silence. he thinks that they'll hang and vanish in the air like his breathe, and he thinks it'll be gone forever, just like that. he thinks the next morning, he'll find a new morning routine and delete your contact.
but your breath hitches, and your body stiffens ever so slightly against rin's as his confession exits his lips. rin freezes, his hand falling dormant in the air behind your head.
you rise from his chest, and an empty cavity of dread is left in your place. the quiet is so poignant that you could hear a hairpin drop. he stares at you. you stare at him.
"rin," you start slowly, voice rough around the edges with sleep.
(the train rumbles distantly in the background. faintly, rin wonders when his stop would be.)
"you like me?"
he is silent. you blink once. then twice. and then you move. from your place next to him, you take his hand in both of yours and shift it to your lap.
"you like me."
it's not so much of a question now as it is an answer. your skin is cold against his, and it reminds him of the afternoon spent in your classroom where he learned of his limits for the first time.
"and you said you want to kiss me all the time," you continue, and rin thinks he'd be utterly humiliated if he wasn't so frozen.
"so why don't you?"
your question is one that lingers, hanging in the air like a heavy mist or smoke, and his lungs feel like they're being weighed down by the steeled sky.
you're right for asking, because why didn't he? why had he run, that day in your classroom? why had he let you grow so distant from him in the week that followed?
rin has always been one for pushing his limits. even when his body was broken over his sport, but he kept going because that was what was right to do. it was his purpose, and he didn't matter much outside of that.
but things were different now that he'd met you. rin decides that he just might be worth something more than a victory, because you look at him with a reverence, an affection, that tells him that he's maybe more than that.
you hold his hand in yours like it's glass, and your expression is soft with a curious lilt, and his hand is on your side and traveling to your back, and his other one is in your hair, and his lips are pressed on yours like he needs you, because fuck it, rin decides, he's never cared much for limitations anyway.
you kiss him back before long. it's messy and crude, and all teeth and bumping noses, and a long time in the making. you pull away before he does and he chases your lips like a starved man. but you duck your face into the crook of his neck, body as close as you could manage on the uncomfortable train seat. he feels you laugh into his neck, and he can't help the smile that spreads on his face.
"fucking finally," he says quietly, more to himself than you.
"finally," you agree, as the train slows to a stop. you glance up to check the destination- oh. it's your stop- your apartment block was only a short walk from here.
"this is where i am," you say, trying to find it in yourself to stand up. rin beats you to it, emerging from his seat and pulling you with him.
"i'm walking you home." he's no longer holding your hand, but his pinky finger is interlaced with yours, and he gives a surprisingly firm tug as he ushers you to the exit. "let's go."
you skitter along right behind him as the cold air rushes against his face, planting rosy, frosty kisses against his skin. you swing your joined arms with a wicked grin like you know it'll annoy him but he's not about to tell you to stop.
and if rin thought you were the prettiest in your classroom, or prettiest on the train, he was sorely mistaken because you're nothing short of gorgeous now, in the night air holding his hand, with a big, dopey grin on your face and his name on your lips.
he thinks he'd like to kiss you again, so he stops in his tracks on the sidewalk. you lurch to a halt, and call his name questioningly. he kisses you again because he can now, and you kiss him back, and he can do this again, and again, and again, because what's stopping him now?
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the weeks following the emergence of your newly formed relationship are nothing short of blissful.
neither of you discussed your relationship status- it was just implied that he was your boyfriend now, because rin is almost sure he'd implode if he had to consider his feelings any longer.
your routines had both amended themselves around each other. every day, you'd meet on the morning train. he'd come to your classroom and sit through your lessons with you, and the both of you would go to either your apartment, his house, or whatever other destination was on one of your to-do lists. he'd go off for practice in the afternoons, but he never missed you too much.
he knew your texts would be waiting to be answered, without fail, and he knew you'd always be waiting for his call. and it felt nice to have someone- someone who cared for him, someone to call his own, someone who waited for him, someone he'd won.
rin thinks that he'd follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked, and especially if you didn't. he sees it as mature and responsible- someone has to keep you in check. you just call him clingy.
this is how he finds himself at a farmer's market. it's bustling, and nostalgic, and crowded, and probably not his scene. but you're there, so he'll make it work.
"oh, there's so many things. uh, let's see," you fumble with your phone, pulling up your list from your phone, "naomi can't have peanuts. asami is allergic to.. strawberries? how sad. and hiroshi will probably start crying if he sees cucumber. god, kids get weirder and weirder by the day."
you've been roped into helping host the graduation party for this year's oldest elementary students, most of which you knew by name. you'd been stuck with the food prep which rin didn't really understand assigning to you, since it's presumably the hardest task and you're not even a real employee.
"what's left, then?"
"uh.. i think we can make blueberry pie or something. and if they don't like it, it's not my fault because i tried."
"i'm not helping."
"no, no. you are. you don't have a choice in this."
he scoffs, and is about to reply, when-
"ms. teacher! hi, hi! hi!"
a little tiny pair of legs attached to a blur of brown hair as a small boy hurtles into your legs, capturing you into a hug the best he can. you let out a huff as the wind is knocked out of you.
looking down, rin recognizes the same kid- the same one who had made the watercolour painting of him and was surprised that they spoke german in 'germ-in-ey'.
"haru? hi yourself! what're you doing here?"
you almost instantly kneel down to meet his eyes and haru immediately giggles and taps the side of your head. "bonk, bonk!"
you laugh. "that isn't an answer, buddy."
the boy rocks back and forth on the heels of his feet with his hands fidgeting with each other in front of him, and rin is both enamoured by your endless warmth and feeling very out of place, standing awkwardly behind you like a scared child.
"my mama runs a fruit shore. yum, fruit! 'nd, i get to ex-spore! 'cause they're all busy with the fruit shore!"
"really? how cool!"
"yeah, yeah! 'nd, why are you here ms. teacher?"
you pretend to be in deep contemplation, tapping your finger on your chin. "well, if i tell you, you've got to keep it a secret, 'kay?"
"pinky swear! swear it!"
"it's for a surprise party."
haru looks like you just told him nuclear secrets. "oh my gosh!"
he squirms where he stands, running around in circles. "a sur-pies party! a sur-pies party!"
and then he stills, looking at you with the utmost serious expression that cracks a grin onto even rin's face. "i swear i won't tell anyone about your sur-pies party."
"thank you very much, haru. i appreciate it," you reply, with equal seriousness.
and then, haru's eyes wander over to rin.
"mr. germ-in-ey!"
rin cringes. he wasn't mentally prepared for this, not today. "hi."
haru seems to have forgotten that people from germany tend to speak german, because he converses with rin like there's no implicit barrier there. "hey, hi! i didn't know you went outside the school!"
rin's brows furrow and you stand, laughing. "what?"
"you're always in ms. teacher's classroom. in the back, all sad."
he frowns. "i'm not sad."
haru surveys him, and he feels a little ridiculous getting once-overed by a 7-year-old. "no," haru agrees, "not anymore!"
at this, you chime in. "oh? what changed?"
rin glares at you over his shoulder and you return with a bemused expression. haru mimics your previous posture, with his hands on his chin like he's stroking a beard.
"you guys are in love!"
you freeze, shooting up straight with wide eyes. rin stares at the kid.
"come again, haru?" you manage to choke out, perhaps hoping that you heard him wrong.
"you guys are in L-O-E-V-E!" haru sings the words out, spelling it wrong but still reinforcing his previous statement.
rin is flabbergasted, and you choke on your saliva. bystanders are beginning to look at the scene unfolding, and you attempt to straighten yourself out while rin takes a step away.
"uh, haru," you say, letting out a breath and an awkward laugh, "why don't you go find your mom? tell her i say hi."
haru hums before nodding like he'd entirely forgotten the previous conversation. he scuttles away with the speed of a scared cat. rin directs his gaze to you and shoots you a look.
"your students are so fucking strange."
you sigh, "yeah. yeah, they are."
he pauses. and lets out the heaviest, most resigned sigh he thinks he's ever managed before. "but they're not wrong."
you look at him blankly, before you process his words. and then you're positively beaming as rin makes a face.
"ugh, gross. forget i said that. that was vile."
"awh, rin!" you say, disregarding his statement, "you're so cute! so, so cute!"
you close the distance between him and you, and he ducks his face away but makes no real effort to move. "i hate you so much."
"i don't think so," you hum, getting infinitely closer to his face. he's sure you can feel the heat radiating off him at your proximity, as you continue: "i think that you are obsessed with me."
your lips are ghosting the corner of his mouth and he doesn't realize he was holding his breath until you pull away, eyes suddenly wide with realization.
"oh my god," you say, all the teasing removed from your voice and instead replaced with a daunting sobriety, "haru is going to tell the entire class. the entire school."
rin blinks. "okay? and?"
"no, you don't get it!" you grab his arm, a genuine terror that is almost comical shining in them. "i'm going to be trampled."
your boyfriend shrugs. "i don't see how that's my issue."
"you idiot. you come with me every day."
"so?"
"you're never going to know peace again."
rin finally gets it, and he frowns deeper than he thinks he ever has. "i'm breaking up with you, then. no way am i dealing with that."
you roll your eyes and sigh, and rin laughs- it's quiet and short but real and genuine, and he sees the love brimming in your eyes as you follow his movements.
"god, i love you."
your words catch him off guard. but he takes your hand as a response. rin doesn't think he can say it back, not right now- but you know he does, and this time, so does he.
because rin loves you, and you love him, simple as that. there are no limits, there are no rules- just brushstrokes on a canvas, just an artist and a muse.
in that moment, in the middle of the bustling farmer's market, you and rin are all alone, and he thinks to himself: he would spend forever counting the passengers on a train if it meant he would meet you.
he'd spend years if he had to, waiting for his girl, the one with a white worn-out zip-up and shoes that were on their last few wears, and a denim bag smeared with paint and decorated with pins, and a smile to rival the sun.
he'd give it all to meet you again, and he'd give even more if you asked. in truth, there's nothing he wouldn't do to fall in love with you all over again- but he doesn't need to imagine, because you make it happen every day.
because truly, it may have started in just a few mornings, but it would always end with you.
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(3 weeks later, mrs. sato appears on the morning train again.
you and rin are seated in conversation, bodies turned towards each other as he listens to your words. you're both interrupted when the train doors shut and a voice calls your name.
"ah, what have i missed! do my eyes deceive me, or is there a lovely new couple in my presence?"
you grin at her arrival. "oh my gosh, mrs. sato?"
the older woman hobbles over to sit down in front of you. "you have so much to tell me," she states, wrinkled smile gleaming with childlike joy.
rin frowns. why is it such a common trend to make him the 3rd wheel in his own relationship?
rin listens in as you narrate the course of your relationship, thankfully skipping out some more personal pieces, with a pink face and blood warming the tips of his ears.
and in turn, you learn that in mrs. sato's absence, she'd been partying all over the bahamas on a cruise, making a few crude and suggestive jokes about ship crew boys. "ah, but i can't say that anymore, can i? not with your boyfriend here. girl talk."
rin crosses his arms over his chest, looking and feeling a bit ridiculous with your bag on his laugh. mrs. sato cackles. he thinks she reminds him of a witch, just a little.
"ah, well, i hope you didn't miss me too much, dear. i'm off again- to jamaica this time!" mrs. sato exclaims and you smile supportively even though rin can tell you're more amused than anything.
"when do you leave?"
"tonight," she laughs, "i'm going to the airport right now."
when mrs. sato leaves and bids you and rin farewell with a hug and wink respectively. rin looks at you questioningly. "i can't believe you speak to her."
you grimace. "she's terrifying. i think if i wasn't friendly she'd hunt me down."
"probably. wouldn't be hard."
"i should send you to jamaica with her."
"i'd take some cruise boys over you any day."
"i'd pick them over you, too"
rin smiles. his hand taps a rhythm onto your knee. "so what're we doing today?"
"after school, i think it's finally time i buy new shoes. it's been long enough."
he frowns. "i like your shoes."
"they're like, a million years old. there's a hole in the sole."
"oh."
"you can pick them, since you clearly seem to think your fashion sense is better than mine."
"it is, actually."
"you're horrible, y'know that?"
"yep."
the train stops, and you stand before he does. you extend your hand for him to take.
he takes it without hesitation.)
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##: if you read this long, hey! writing this actually made me insane i'm not gonna lie! but it's finally out, and genuinely would mean the world if u left a like, reblog, or comment :,) feedback keeps me motivated!
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