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#((Hope you enjoy if you read this!))
beaulesbian · 2 years
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im so happy i managed to finish writing the chapter 2 of my byler fic before the vol. 2 drops on friday!
7.6k words of angst and then fluff <3
(my take on mike gets vecna’d bc i needed to put him through some stuff :’( sorry mike)
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Feelings Thawed
Character; Cater Diamond
Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, pining, ice skating (to various degrees of success)
Word Count; 650+
Author's Note; This is a present/thank you to my mutual @i-like-forgs. I hope you enjoy this ice skating scene with Cater, and that you get to skate soon!
As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist
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The brisk wind bit at your nose, and you pulled up your scarf, trying to keep away the offending wind. Around you it was a winter wonderland, all made possible in the temperate conditions thanks to Cater, who was filming you skating around on the frozen pond’s surface.
“You know,” you hollered, making sure that you caught his attention, “you should join me! It’s fun!” You came to a stop by the pond’s edge, where Cater was standing with a large thermos.
Cater just shot you a wink, handing you the thermos. “This is for you though, silly!” 
He was deflecting, you could tell; behind that bright and cheery smile that he always seemed to wear around others, you knew when there was something off with Cater. You accepted the thermos though, and took a sip of the spicy apple cider, still piping hot.
You gave him a look and pulled lightly on his coat sleeve. “Yes, but it’s more fun with others, come on Cater!” You stepped back onto the ice, and slowly skated near him, waiting with an eager smile.
He looked at you, and then back at the ice, but he stayed standing in the light snow, shooting you that smile. “But I can’t take photos if I’m out there with you!” He scratched at the back of his neck.
Liar. “Cater,” you looped back around and stepped onto the bank, balancing on your skates, “do you not know how to skate?”
Cater’s smile turned sheepish, and his ‘ahahaha, looks like my gig is up’ chuckle made its appearance. He had been found out. “Never got the chance to,” he hid his face slightly in his scarf, either to keep the cold at bay or to hide that his cheeks were turning pink. “So I’d just slow ya down.”
You took his hand into yours, “Well, I could teach you if you wanted. Just a warning though, you’re gonna fall on your butt a lot, might get a few bruises.”
Cater looked down at your entwined hands. Mittens and gloves separated your skin from touching one another, but Cater could swear that he could feel the sensation nonetheless through the layers of fabric.
“You would? Even if I pull you down with me?” 
The last question wasn’t just about the ice skating; Cater didn’t want to force you to do anything that you didn’t want to… and that included being his friend. His heart seemed to whisper stronger emotions though, but he didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had.
You walked him out to the ice, and the both of you swiftly fell down on the ice, hard. But you just laughed and got right back up again, “Well, we did just fall. There isn’t anything scary about falling down; yes it stings and might leave a gnarly bruise, but in order to move forward we have to fall and get back up. So yes, is what I guess I’m saying.”
Cater looked up at you, the sun illuminating you and the snow glittered behind you. You were holding your hand out again, waiting for him. And Cater took your hand. 
It took him a while to get the hang of it, and he fell down quite a bit, but every time he fell down you helped him back up. And by the time that the sun was setting in the west, the both of you were cold, and both were going to wake up tomorrow with some bruises. It was fun though, which is all that mattered… but that whisper in Cater’s heart was by now singing, and maybe he would listen to it, but for now, he was happy with how the way things were, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, especially with how much you had smiled today. Your smile and knowing that you had fun with him was enough.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tags; @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @silvers-numberonefan, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii
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rebeccccccaaa · 1 month
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Too Sweet
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Spencer Reid x Reader
:: Practically at his beck and call, Spencer knows you’re too sweet for him. He knows he shouldn’t use you but he can’t stop himself when you’re also all too enthusiastic to fuck him ::
warnings :: smutttt, casual sex (kinda lol), oral (fem receiving), over stimulation, insomnia!spencer, spencer spitting facts (literally), reader is described to have hair length long enough to stick to your cheeks, obviously reader is described as afab, not sure what else i should tag so let me know what i miss :)
author’s notes :: hello, hello! honestly i saw this tik tok edit of spencer with this song (Too Sweet - Hozier) and felt a bit inspired by it and also loosely by lyrics too. please be kind as it’s been a couple years since i last wrote a fic and it’s my first one about dr reid too, so let me know if you guys like it, comment, reblog, all that jazz and critiques are more than welcome! Enjoy!
WC :: ~4k
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It was pretty late into the night, it was the first weekend in weeks that the team was able to really enjoy. Spencer sat in a corner of his apartment, a glass of whiskey sat on the table as he flipped the pages of a book he’s read a thousand times before, albeit it was one of favorites. 
He was hesitant to call, he didn’t want to pull you away from enjoying your weekend but when it came to his pleasure, he put himself first. You were always too nice to say no to him and he knew that. It made him feel sleazy sometimes, but this was who he was now. Rugged, damaged, fucked up. He’d been through a lot. But in those moments where you squirmed and whined beneath him, he felt satiated. You were his drug now. 
“Hello?” he mumbled when the call picked up.
“Spencer,” your voice was a whisper as  you practically sang his name.
“You’re awake,” he said.
“Yes,” you responded.
“It’s a little late don’t you think?” he poked. 
“Then why are you calling?” 
You knew why he was calling. He only ever wanted one thing from you when the sky was dark. You didn’t mind it though. You basked in it. You kind of liked it. The feeling of having sex without commitment. Your job didn’t give you enough time for a commitment. You didn’t feel humiliated or belittled by Spencer’s desires. In fact, his lust for you turned you on in most cases. Most. 
Spencer was still a good friend to you. Regardless of sleeping with him, he was your closest friend. And recently, you noticed changes in him. Maybe you’ve kept a closer eye on him more than before but you were a little concerned. You had the right after everything he’s been through. He seemed more tired than usual, even though he was still punctual with work. Although you didn’t sleep in his bed after every time you slept together, when you did, you pretended not to notice his exits and long absences in between the long hours of the night. You could barely hear his ever so quiet footsteps roaming the living room. The clanking of coffee mugs in the kitchen and his quiet ‘Shit’ when he thought he was being too loud.
Three subtle knocks rapped his door, so quiet Spencer would’ve missed if he had breathed just a bit louder. A grin spread across his face subconsciously, glancing at the clock before taking long strides to the door. It was almost midnight. You stood in the doorway with heavy eyes, not the drunk kind, but the tired kind. He moved aside to let you in. Just like last time; and all the other times you showed up at his door for him. 
“I thought you went out tonight,” he questioned, rhetorically. 
“I did. For a bit,” you told him, “I just had one drink, then went home.”
“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, you already know the answer. And Spencer knows you know too, though he tried at first to be more subtle in his nightly fixtures. He simply sighed with amusement. You set your things down on his couch, eyes adjusting to the dim lights that hardly lit the room. The glass sitting on the table in the corner caught your eyes though. 
“What are you drinking?” you asked.
“Uh, whiskey. Neat.” 
“Ew, why?” you joked.
“It’s not that bad,” he shrugged. A whiskey wouldn’t exactly be Spencer’s first choice of drink but then again his first choice of drink wouldn’t even be alcohol. If it was, he would probably be content with a beer, or something of the sort. He was sort of going through a phase during nights. He was sleeping a lot less too. 
“I just didn’t take you for a whiskey kind of guy,” you teased.
“What kind of guy did you take me for?” he poked; he wasn’t really talking about drinks anymore though. 
“Water,” you joked, making him laugh. 
Spencer stood before you now. His hands were slightly hesitant this time to rest on your hips. 
“Is everything ok, Spencer?” you asked him. 
“Yes,” his voice was a whisper. 
You didn’t believe him, but you knew better than to press him. He was a stubborn guy and whether you did or didn’t you weren’t going to get an answer. You slid your hands up his chest before cupping the back of his neck with your hands. The kiss was chaste. You didn’t want to sleep with him if he was having second thoughts.
“Are you sure? If you’ve changed your mind I can head hom-,” you were telling him.
“No, don’t,” he rushed out. 
“I’m fine; I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he confessed. This surprised you, not because you didn’t know, but because you didn’t think he would tell you. 
“Well, then maybe I should go. That way you can finally get to bed before the sun comes up for once,” you joked with him, “Besides, you’re the one who's always telling people how important sleep is to the human body.”
Your words shocked Spencer this time. Admittedly, in the back of mind he suspected that you could sense him leaving his bed, or your bed sometimes, and that one or more times he’d been a little loud dwindling in the next room. But he didn’t realize you were fully aware of his nightly escapades. You knew him too well. You were too sweet to him. Spencer knew after all the fucked up things he’s been through he didn’t deserve your friendship; or anything more despite the fact.
“Did you know that elephants sleep the least of any other animal?” he told you, he doesn’t know why. Maybe to distract you, or seduce you. Both outcomes came often enough for him to make it a guessing game.
“You’re not an elephant.”
And then there were the ultra rare times when neither outcome happened; just now being one of them. 
“Sleep deprivation has been associated with reduced sexual desire and arousal,” he tried again.
“Well, I can help with that,” you teased. There we go.
He leaned down to kiss your lips but you pulled back in tease, smile on your face; you knew how pussywhipped you had this man. He didn’t want to fight it, he was growing desperate for you with every passing second. Rolling his eyes, he dipped his head in the crook of your neck. His hands left your hips, pulling you closer to him from your waist and lower back. Your hands began to unbutton his shirt, he was still wearing the clothes you saw him working in earlier that day. 
You stopped him, never been one to have sex anywhere other than the bedroom, taking his hand already knowing where to go after doing so many times before already. Although, it wasn’t like his apartment was a confusing labyrinth. He followed you like always. 
You reached the edge of the bed, sitting instinctively. Your hand went straight to his belt, undoing it with ease. Spencer pulled your hands away from his hips before sinking to his knees to the ground. He pulled your hips to the very edge, scratching the skin as he desperately pulled at your pants bringing them down your legs. Of course you let him.
He pushed you back and you fell on your elbows, still able to see him so clearly. See him dip his head and kiss the skin on the inside of your knee, his eyes lingering on yours. You let your head go for a second, basking in the feeling of his lips. They always made you feel so warm and tingly. One thing about Spencer, he loved foreplay. All the little things that lead up to sex. Most of the time, he craved the foreplay more than the sex itself. 
He moved your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs, his hands holding your hips. His nose ran along your inner thighs. Your skin erupted in goosebumps at the feeling of his warm breath coming from his nose. His fingers fiddled against your hip bones and you wiggled a bit becoming desperate by the minute for something more than just this teasing.
“Spence,” you whined, looking back at him.
“It doesn’t matter how many times we do this, you’ll never learn patience will you?” Spencer bartered. 
“Spencer, I don’t come to you to learn patience,” you spat, not with any malice however.
“You won’t come at all with that attitude,” he snapped back, hiding a grin between your legs. 
“Spencer!” you gasped.
He chuckled lowly, bringing his hand between your thighs, pulling your underwear to the side to expose you to him. You were glistening, slick beginning to leak from you already. Spencer could feel himself getting hard. He precariously tried to not buck his hips into the bed like horny teenager.  
“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. 
He stepped up quickly letting your legs drop harshly. His fingers curled over the hem of your underwear pulling them down and tossing behind his shoulder before returning to his previous position. He felt like he was possessed. Acting and moving like it was primal, instinctive. He wanted nothing more in this moment than to satisfy you. 
He kissed all the places except the place you needed the most. You curled your toes anticipating his next move, longing for his lips, tongue, fingers, anything to bring you pleasure. Just when you were about to sit up, ready to nag at him, his lips wrapped around your bud. 
Your shoulders gave out at the feeling. Your body electrifying instantaneously. Your eyes trained on the ceiling, focusing on everything about Spencer in this moment, the sounds, his touch, his tongue. His tongue dipping in you every now and then, making you moan feverishly. His hands spread out, pinning your hips down to the bed to try and get you to stop wiggling your hips, but he wasn’t too successful in that. 
“Knock it off,” he groaned, removing a hand wrapped around your leg to bring his fingers to your entrance.
“It’s not enough; I need more,” you whined.
“No, you want more,” he debuted, “You’re being greedy.”
“And you’re being mean,” you quipped, you always had something to retort.
“Ok, fine,” he stood up.
“Stop!” you whined, “Please, come back. Do whatever you want.”
“I will,” he sat on his knees again, instantly bringing his fingers up to rub slow circles that made your toes curl. 
He purposefully let them every now and then prod at your entrance make your hips jerk in surprise. He could see how wet you were, all of the slick telling him how needy you were. He looked up to look at your face. His eyes catching your nipples peeking through the fabric of your shirt from the pleasure already, smiling to himself. 
“Sexual arousal can cause an increase in blood flow to not just female genitalia, but also the breasts,” he told you, feeling your thighs squeeze ever so slightly.
“Is that your way of telling me my nipples are hard because of you?” you teased.
“Yes,” he stated before diving straight back between your thighs. 
His tongue did circles like his fingers, the wetness and warmth much more stimulating than before. His fingers slid inside you, curling when he couldn’t push them any further. You moaned out, reaching your hand down to comb your fingers through Spencer’s shaggy hair. The noises of everything bounced off the walls of Spencer’s shallow bedroom. It sounded vulgar but so sexy. Your heavy breathing practically syncing together. 
Your thighs squeezed more and more as you got closer to your climax; you didn’t care if you were suffocating Spencer. If he died, he died pleasuring you and neither of you minded it in this moment. Your hips grinding against his tongue chasing you release frantically. Spencer pumped his fingers in and out of you rapidly, leading you to ecstasy. 
Your breaths became shaking, as did your moans. You were overcome with pleasure as your orgasm hit you so suddenly. You could feel Spencer’s smile growing against you, you knew that he wasn’t going to withdraw despite reaching your climax. 
“Oh god, too much, Spence.” 
“First it was not enough, now it’s too much?” he taunted you, fingers still pumping in and out you strenuously. 
“Spence!” you wailed, your voice trembling embarrassingly. 
When he wouldn’t give out, you pulled at his hair as you sat up and pulled his mouth away from between your thighs. 
“Oh ow, ow, ow!” he whined. 
“Jesus, you were gonna give me a heartache,” you whined. 
“Actually the possibility of having a heart attack during sexual activity is exceedingly low. So you wouldn’t have had anything to worry about; if anything you would get a small headache,” he explained. 
“You’re giving me a headache,” you whined, making him laugh.  
You pulled him from the back of his neck, crashing his lips against yours. You loved to kiss Spencer. You always felt the closest to him physically when you kissed. Which is ironic since he was quite literally inside you most nights. Kissing, the art of kissing, was practically your love language. You always gave small pecks when you were together, privately of course. 
Spencer was worried at first, that kissing was too intimate that things would complicate fast and feelings would get hurt. But as time went on and things continued to stay normal between you, he just began to relish in it rather than worry about nothing. At least that’s what he’s convinced himself of. 
He suddenly remembered the first time you slept together. You were in his apartment one night going over some details of the case. Nothing so major, or frightening, but something wasn’t adding up. You decided to take a break, cracking open some beers and just talk. One beer became two, then three, then four and then suddenly bottles littered the pitiful coffee table in front of you. You were very clear with him, “I don’t just sleep with anybody.” But you were a woman with needs just as much as Spencer was a man, “Neither do I.”
“Things have to stay the way they are if we do this,” he told you that night.
“They will,” you assured him. 
You rested your forehead against his seeing his eyes seem different. Spencer always did this. Everytime, just for a minute or even a second, he would disappear behind his eyes, like he was reminiscing on a memory you couldn’t describe. 
“You did that thing again,” you said with a small grin on your face. 
“I know,” he blushed, “Sorry.”
“You ever gonna tell me what you’re thinking about when you do that?” you questioned.
“Nope,” he smirked, making you giggle. 
Spencer stood straight up shagging his shirt off before scrambling out of his pants. He crawled back over you settling his hips between your thighs as he dipped his head down to attach his lips to your neck. Your hand curled around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair as his breath and lips tickled your skin. Your hips fit together snuggly, grinding against desperate to chase each other’s highs.
Spencer reached into the drawer beside your head to pull out a condom. You snatched it from his hands with a devilish smirk on your face tearing it with your teeth. You spat the foil corner from your mouth, pulling the condom from its package before tossing it aside. You reached between your bodies stroking Spencer. His face blushing red, contorting with pleasure as it’s the first of the night to feel some sort of friction he needed from the beginning. The reason he called you in the first place. 
Spencer let his hands trace your skin. Though you wouldn’t react, your skin erupted in goosebumps. Feeling him prodding against your entrance, your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat. You always anticipated this part. No matter how many times you and Spencer spent the night together, you couldn’t ever get used to the flips your stomach made at this time. 
Spencer pushed his hips into you, his length stroking your walls making your hum in delight. Spencer’s breath became heavy as he pulled out just enough before rutting back in you with skill. Your face began to feel hot as Spencer began to find a good rhythm. You could feel the sweat building on your forehead, the air cold against your scalp. 
You looked at Spencer’s face; the veins bulging from his forehead and his neck. You cupped his cheek with your hand, catching his rhythm with your hips. Your breath became heavy, your hums became moans. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most vocal lover you laid with. Not that Spencer was your lover of course. That‘s not what you meant.
“What’s going on in that pretty little brain?” Spencer’s voice took you from your sudden trance; his pace beginning to slow. He brought his hand to your face, pulling the stray hairs that stuck to your cheeks from your sweat away.
“Nothing, just don’t stop,” you sighed, pulling his lips down to yours again. 
Spencer picked up his pace again, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room. You felt overcome with an ambitious heat throughout your body. You pushed Spencer’s shoulders up trying your best to cool down without stopping your chase to your high. Spencer sat on his knees gripping your hips, practically ramming his hips into yours. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets beneath you. 
“Oh god, fuck,” you cried out. Your thighs squeezing Spencer’s torso as you began to get closer to your climax. 
“Shit, it’s like I can’t get enough no matter how many times I have you squirming beneath me,” he gloated. 
You could see Spencer's chest begin to get red, his knuckles however turning white. Your hands reached down gripping his wrists. Prying them away, before sitting up to straddle his legs, as they stretched forward, adjusting comfortably. You held on to his shoulders sturdily, finding an entirely new rhythm to chase your high. 
Spencer’s hands ran up your back, sliding under your shirt that you had yet to take off. No wonder you were overwhelmed with heat. He peeled the tight fabric from your skin, tossing it to the ground like he has so many times before. He unhooked your bra with ease, his eyes instantly trained to your chest. He couldn’t help his hands following, massaging the soft skin. Spencer looked up to you as you bounced up and down. Sweat dripping seductively down the valley of your breasts. 
“You’re so pretty,” Spencer whispered, staring up at you.
“I know,” you joked breathlessly, giving him a playful wink. 
Spencer let out a breathy laugh at that. The both of you were itching for a release now. Your bodies squirming against one another, aching to give the other the release. You leaned back placing your hands on his thighs, moving your hips faster and harder than before. 
“Spencer, I’m getting close, I feel it,” you whimpered, “Please tell me you’re close too.”
“I’m close,” he breathed out.
“Fuck,” you cried.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let go,” Spencer mused, he reached between you two, fingers circling quickly between your thighs to bring you to climax even faster.
You gasped out, chest heaving as you felt the waves of pleasures wash over you suddenly. You couldn’t help the loud moans escaping from you as you threw your head back; arched back and thighs tensed. Spencer’s hand held your body close to himself, and you curled forward wrapping your arms around his head as you climaxed indefinitely. Spencer grunted below you, his legs stiffening and jerking upward. Curses whispered from his lips. 
“Oh, shit,” you gasped, relaxing and slumping your body over Spencer. 
“Treat me good, like always,” he whispered, his hand coming briefly to stroke your hair gently. 
He rolled you over, laying you lazily on his bed before climbing out of the bed swiftly. He stumbled his way to dispose of the rubber. He grabbed a small towel from a drawer along with something to cover himself. He sat silently on the edge of the bed, gently cleaning you as your eyes slowly blinked, telling him you were exhausted. 
“You want to stay the night? I can see how tired you are.” 
“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning,” you quipped with a small grin on your face. 
Spencer laid beside you, covering your body with the blankets. You curled by his side, your leg falling over his hips. He turned the lights out, but the soft golden glow from the lights in the room next door streamed in. His arm wrapped around you, fingers softly stretching your back. Steady breaths against his chest gave him a sense of comfort. He was always a bit jealous how easily sleep came to you; how peaceful you looked when you did. Spencer tried to close his eyes. He tried to let rest wash over him like a blanket. What felt like seconds was an hour. And another hour. He peeked at his watch laying on the nightstand beside him, three o’clock the time read. 
Sighing, he sneaked out of bed, careful to not wake you. He skulked towards the kitchen, eyeing the small glass of whiskey still on the table. He couldn’t help smirk to himself over it. He opened the cabinet grabbing a mug, pouring a bitter liquid into it. He took a big swig of his favorite beverage, basking in all the flavors, when suddenly a beautiful figure stood before him. 
“Hey,” his voice was quiet. 
“I’m guessing you haven’t slept,” you tiptoed your way to him, you could hear him sighing. 
“Is there anything at all I can do to help you?” you whispered, carefully placing your hand on Spencer’s warm back. 
“No, but having you here is enough.”
You were beginning to blur the lines between your arrangement and your friendship. But neither you nor Spencer could muster up the courage to stop what you’ve started. Spencer indulged in your sweetness, the way you were always there to satiate his desires, the way you opened yourself to him like heaven’s gate. And you, well you would never admit it. Being in love with Spencer that is. You’ve known him for years; seen the best parts of him and helped him through the worst. You knew him the best of anyone you’ve known before. And he could say the same too. He’s never opened up to anyone as much as he has to you. 
You were perfect for each other. And yet, Spencer wouldn’t allow himself to bask in it. He truly believed he didn’t deserve you. That all the demons that haunted him in these dark hours were undeserving of your kindness, compassion, gentleness. Simply thinking about you was often enough to calm him in tense situations. But he would never tell you this. So here he was, standing in the kitchen with his coffee black at three in the morning wondering why you couldn’t see that he would never be enough for you. 
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originalartblog · 2 months
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Tiny skk Thunderstorm Megacomic part 1 - part 2 ↓
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Continued under the cut ↓
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Chuuya had managed to hide that (very embarrassing) fear of lightning for all those years through careful movement planning, dubious self-control and luck. Today is probably not the day he'll talk about it, but lucky for him, he wasn't the only one here who would have liked to keep more stuff to himself.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 2 months
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Can you do a scenario of Bakugou aftermath of the manga war right now, cause sense he had so much character development I think he have changed majorly big. And was wondering a bakugou x reader, aftermath after battle. I hope your up to date with the manga rn cause it’s super sad :(
But Mabye a scene of reader x bakugou, he wakes up in hospital and sees her waiting next to him in a chair waiting for him to wake up. And when he does he’s glad to see her alive and asking so many questions ☹️ maybe even a lil romantic vibe at the end ??!??😌
That would be so sweet thank you’!!
this is such a cute request ! i've been thinkin of writing a post war fic lately so thank you for the ask ! i tried to honour your request as best i could, hope you'll like it ! <3
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BNHA MANGA SPOILERS !!, fem reader, injuries n blood n stuff, reader cries easily sorry im projecting, katsuki n reader have been together for a while (since before the first internship arc !)(..does this technically qualify as childhood friends to…anyways !), worried reader, worried katsu so its a lil angsty but it's pure fluff no worries !, kissing, katsuki is touchy and cannot pass up skin contact, katsuki is a biter cus i say he is so biting, best jeanist is here!! (and maybe kinda ooc cus idk him like that😭🫶🏾), afo is mentioned and called a ballsack lmfao i hate him, everyone is fine and dandy and healthy(?) cus im a major optimist, lemme know if i missed sum else<3!
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it's been three weeks since katsuki's been asleep.
you'd woken up a week and a few days after the war had ended. you don't remember much besides fighting for your life, that of your friends and of the people of japan. you were greeted with the worried, relieved and snotty faces of your classmates. denki and kirishima had basically tackle hugged you and were immediately strictly reprimanded by iida and momo. your limbs hurt like hell but you could ignore it and focus on squeezing your friends for now.
except not everyone was here. you immediately realised katsuki was one of them.
you were horrified to find out from your friends, who were sure this would be your reaction and were refraining from telling you, that katsuki had once again suffered major injuries and had been asleep for a good week now.
your classmates had tried to reassure you, "bakugou's always doin' the impossible, he'll probably be awake and he'll go back to cussin' up a storm before we know it." sero said, trying his best to comfort you. you send him a smile that doesn't fully reach your eyes, but you still appreciate him nonetheless.
since that day you'd gone to visit him everyday. sometimes you'd just stare at his pretty lashes fluttering, wondering when he'd wake up. other times you'd talk to him about your day. it was boring, since you were still healing and still stuck in the hospital, but it was something.
your classmates came to visit too. kirishima comes to visit the most but you assume he’s just here to check up on you and make sure you’re okay. he stays for around an hour, sneaks you some actually edible food then always leaves you with a “don’t push yourself too much, okay !”
you go to visit your other classmates, like izuku who had also taken a major beating, but was just as stubborn as your katsuki when it came to durability. you’re amazed to see how quickly he goes back to his old self, anxiously waving his arms around and telling you he’s completely okay, before promptly wincing and yelping out an “ouch !” when he moves his arm the wrong way. you jokingly warn him not to push himself too much too quickly or you’d mess him up even more than he already was every time you leave.
“i’ll try !” he chuckles, giving you a thumbs up.
you’d also met best jeanist recently, who had come to visit your boyfriend one day while you were also there. he told you that katsuki had talked about you once and that, in best jeanist’s words he seemed to be very enamored with you. you couldn’t help the way you shyly looked down at the ground, letting out a flustered chuckle and you thought you heard best jeanist laugh underneath his long, long turtleneck.
you’re currently sitting by katsuki’s bedside for the fourth monday in a row, smiling to yourself as you watch him sleep. you wonder if he’s dreaming about anything. despite the fact you looked it up and people can’t exactly dream while they’re in a coma, but you like to think he’s just asleep and having a very nice dream. the thought makes you happy, but it also makes a knot grow in your throat.
“i do hope you're having nice dreams, but i also hope you wake up soon." you whisper lovingly, brushing some hair out of his face. you run your finger along his nose bridge and cheek, usually he wouldn't be able to take soft touches like this for more than 10 seconds before getting embarrassed and pushing your hands away, trying to distract you from his beet red cheeks. you let out a watery giggle at the memory.
your throat starts feeling a little dry and as much as you don't want to leave katsuki, you figured you wouldn't miss much if you were only gone for a few minutes. you press a quick kiss to his forehead and before you get up to leave the room you look back at him once more time. only to see something strange, his eyelashes flutter more than usual, then his eyebrows furrow,
and then his eyes open.
he blinks groggily once, then twice. he tries to reach up and rub at his eye but the bandage on his arm won't allow him to and he winces. he realizes someone is in his room after a second, slowly looking up as if in slow motion. but then his movements fast forward when he realizes it's you in his room.
his eyes widen and he practically jumps up. hastily sitting up and leaning against the railing of his bed towards you
"yn—fuck !" but he seems to have underestimated how serious his injuries were in the moment. he doubles over and hisses in pain. the noise kickstarts you and immediatly you're in motion. you rush over to him, softly but urgently grabbing his shoulders you softly push him back against his pillows, he groans as you do. "don't sit up so quickly !" you fret "just lay down—"
he grabs your arm with his somewhat okay one tightly as soon as you make contact, "are you—fuck—are you okay ?" he asks breathlessly, his eyes urgently search around on your face and he frowns slightly as he scans over your light scratches. " fuck, i passed out before i could get to check up on you.." his eyebrows furrow even harder, mad at himself for not being able to watch over you.
he lifts his not so injured hand up just slightly and you lower your head so he can place it against your cheek. he rubs over it slowly "yer not hurt, are ya ? i mean—fuck, you are, but—"
"katsu.." you smile, already shushing him.
"nothing broken ?" he starts up again, prodding at every body part he can reach. you giggle lightly. "yer all bandaged up. swear i'll find the bastards who did this shit to you."
"i already dealt with them, so you don't need to worry about that." you chuckle. he copies you, his movements slow down the slightest bit and he chuckes slightly and you've missed that sound so much your heart squeezes.
“yeah, course you did..” he sighs, eyes shining brighter than usual and you suspect he’s tearing up a little when he swiftly looks away from you to wipe at his face, you don’t comment on it cus you could feel tears welling up in your eyes as well.
he tsks at the mostly okay, but still injured, arm against his face before pulling it back glaring at it, “this shit’s a real pain.” he mutters angrily, sucking his teeth.
you spring into action again, like a toy starting up when you wind it “don’t move it so much, you messed it up really badly during the fight !” you both notice how you flinch back when you instinctively go to grab his hand, then reach forward once more and barely grab his hand to guide it towards his lap, and then his body towards the pillows behind him again. katsuki’s eyebrows furrow at your ghost like touch.
he doesn’t say a word as you ramble and simply stares at you. you’d noticed he hadn’t even put up a fight when you’d pushed him back down onto his bed, but you were more worried about his well being rather than his behavior. but now you start to get a little bit worried at his lack of reaction, you place your hand on his chest softly, afraid to hurt him "wait just a sec, i'll go get a nur—"
"no." you let out a surprised sound when he grabs your hand. he stares straight into your eyes, and the bright red shine in them is such a huge contrast to them being closed for so long it almost knocks the wind out of you.
he vehemently shakes his head "i don't need none of that."
"katsuki, you need—"
"no i don't." he says stubbornly, you don't know if you're happy or not that he seems to be just as stubborn as before everything happened. it's a relief, sure, but it's starting to annoy you a bit. you want to fire back but he cuts you off "i don't need a nurse. need you." he mutters into your hand he had brung up to his lips to speak his last sentence against.
it’s only a light press of his lips against your skin but it sends chills down your spine. he does it again, red eyes fixed onto you to bring his point across. you suck in a harsh breath, then sigh in defeat.
"okay.." you sigh. "but we still have to get a nurse later." he grunts into your hand in begrudged agreement, "later." he mutters.
once he's gotten his feel of you, he slowly lifts his head up to look at you. he shuffles around in bed until he's sitting up a little straighter, waving you off when you sit up to help when he winces slightly.
he reaches for you and tugs at your arm lightly, as if he wanted you to sit closer to him. you happily oblige, scooting a little closer until you're leaning infront of him. he grumbles, obviously unhappy about something.
"come over here." he whines petutalanty.
you giggle at his childish demand "katsuki, no. you're very hurt and i don't wanna make you feel worse if i accidently push at something too hard. we can cuddle all you want when you get checked up." you explain. he’s obviously unhappy about that, rolling his eyes accompanied by a huff.
just like he usually would. you feel your eyes burn but your chest feels lighter and lighter the more you realize he’s here. your holding his hand and he’s holding it back, you’re looking at him and he at you.
it’s your katsuki.
“that’s bullshit, m’perfectly fine.” he scoffs.
you give him a once over, raising a brow for good measure “right.” you laugh when he scoffs again, but he can’t hide the smirk growing on his face at the sound.
it’s your katsuki, alright.
it’s quiet while you’re just indulging in each other’s company, the worry in your stomach gnawing at you every day he wouldn’t open his eyes these past few weeks finally washing away as you look at him lovingly when he closes his eyes and sighs against your skin.
“stop starin’.” he complains against your hand he still had in a tight grip, cheeks turning red. it seems like he doesn’t want to let go of it any time soon and doesn’t have any plans to as he bring it up to his mouth to bite you. you struggle and squeezes at his nose with a grin.
“hey, is it so bad to wanna look at my boyfriend that he’d been sleeping every day up until now ?” you make it sound like a joke, but your smile falters slightly and katsuki realizes. his eyes widen slightly.
"how..how long was i out for ?" his voice is still clouded with sleep even now. you plop back down onto your chair, dragged closer to him now “about three weeks.” you mutter, sad smile on your face and eyes downcast.
neither of you say anything for a moment and you’re quickly reminded of the quiet you’d gotten used to when he was still asleep. you don't like it and you want to fill the silence but you don't know what to say. katsuki doesn't respond and keeps looking at your expression, blinking slowly, like he does when he's trying to discern how you feel. he's annoyingly perceptive and you feel yourself get flustered by his gaze.
"now who's the one staring.." you mutter shyly, eyes drifting towards the floor to close him off of your mind with those all seeing eyes of his. you can tell he's seen through you, but it's worth a try anyway.
he reaches and tugs at your chair leg for you to scoot closer somehow. once, then twice harder when you don't make any move to listen to him. he grunts and you worry he'll hurt himself like he always end up doing when he’s not being careful, so you lean your face closer to him. you'd stare at him at all day like this if you could but your eyes won't look in his properly before they're shooting back towards the floor, katsuki huffs a breath of laughter onto your cheek.
"m'not allowed to look at my girlfriend after bein' passed the fuck out for three weeks ?" he smirks his eyes are soft even when he gruffs a mean laugh when he reaches up to pinch your nose back and you grumble at him, softly patting at his hand to shoo him away with a smile you try to hold back. he pokes at your cheek, you go to shoo and scold him but he surprises you by softly placing his hand against your cheek.
“was worried about you, you know.”
your eyes widen and your mouth drops open slightly at his sincerity. your heart warms and you can't stop the tears blurring your vision anymore. you clamp your mouth shut so as not to sob, but your bottom lip wobbles and katsuki huffs again.
"was thinkin 'bout you the whole time. hate that creepy ballsack head,” he grumbles bitterly “kept me from seein' my girl." he smiles when you let out a watery snort. you grab ahold of the hand on your face, running your thumb across the rough skin.
"i heard you really did a number on him."
"course i did. fuckin' decimated the fucker." he boasts and you laugh loudly. "made him cry like a baby. literally." he adds, you raise a brow in question but he simply shakes his again, as if telling you not to worry about it.
you don't question it and simply sigh against his hand happily, it feels nice to feel him again. "the others are gonna be happy to see you up. kiri's been coming to visit you every day. and i've forbidden izuku from getting out of bed, but he asks about you all the time."
katsuki scoffs, thumb slowling down in its movements "damn deku.. he better not think he's hot shit cus he woke up before me." you snort loudly at that, shaking your head at his childish antics.
"good he's not runnin' around. he'd probably end up breaking more of his bones by himself."
"that's what i said !" you giggle, and katsuki snorts. you missed hearing him. you missed him so much, you reach a hand up and wipe at your still wet eyes, katsuki grabs at that hand to wipe at your tears for you.
"was worried about you too, katsu." you sniffle "when i heard you got yourself hurt bad again i just—i got really scared.”
your boyfriend's eyebrows furrow sorrowfully and he wishes his body wasn't so weak so he could wrap you up in his arm and feel you close, never let you go. but his hand against your wet cheek will have to do for now.
but katsuki is a creature of habit, so he speaks "come over here." he whispers.
you lean in a small distance at first, not really sure of what he wanted you to do. katsuki grunts but when you get close enough he reaches for the back of your head and pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours.
and it's everything. soft yet his grip on you is firm, slow yet urgent when you grab the front of his hospital clothes and he huffs against you when he shoves his tongue into your mouth with a soft groan. eyebrows furrowing in focus to handle his breathing because he doesn't want to pull away.
not yet.
you're first to pull away but he doesn't let you go far, immediately swooping in for another kiss, this one just as- if not more urgent-than the first. you softly run your hands through his soft locks and try to memorize the feeling like you hadn't been touching it everyday for the past three weeks. it feels different now.
not yet.
finally, you pull away even after katsuki chases your lips with a pout. you giggle and tug at his hair and he huffs at you, and leans forward to bite at the tip of your nose.
"katsuki !" you squeal flying back to wipe at your nose.
“don’t katsuki me” he chuckles, cheeks dusted pink. from the lack of oxygen just a moment ago or from embarrassment you don’t know, “ ‘ts your own fault, dumbass.”
you scrunch your nose and stick your tongue out at him and he snickers again. you’d missed that sound. you’d missed his laugh, and his stupid nicknames and his voice, the way he says your name and his eyes and his smile.
“i missed you.” you breathe, smiling at him with what you know can only be called heart eyes. katsuki blinks at you, turning red to the tips of his ears. he looks away but reaches for your hand, you give it to him and he presses his lips to the back of your hand.
“missed you too. really did.” he mutters.
this is the most embarrassed you’ve seen him and the sincerest at the same time, you commit the image to memory as your stomach flutters and your heart beats for him. and his for you. you can feel it in the way his hand steadily gets warmer, the way he closes his eyes and breathes you. in the way he kisses each of your fingertips and finishes it off with a bite to each to make you laugh.
you both know a lot of things still need to happen but they can wait for now. for now, his heart is here, beating with yours. your katsuki is awake and back where he’s supposed to be.
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dahldahlbills · 6 months
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he connected the dots
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tusks-and-claws · 1 year
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I’m Not What You Need (But I Am)
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Miguel O’Hara x female reader
Summary:  “When you sit there/acting like you know me/acting like you only brought me here to get below me”
You have a concern to bring to Miguel, but when he hears what you really think of him, he doesn’t let you off so easily
Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, kind of missionary idk what to call it, dominant Miguel, brat taming, orgasm denial, dirty talk, choking, sort of strangers to lovers, maybe a little bit of a hatefuck if you squint, reader is a Spider person, def a bit out of character
Wordcount: 3.5k
Find on Ao3 here :3
"Why are you coming to me with such trivial annoyances?" Miguel O'Hara asked you from the platform of his lab, at least ten feet above you. He was tapping on various screens, not giving you eye contact. It felt purposeful, pointed. 
"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted to know when fights broke out. Keeping the peace and all that." You felt yourself growing warm, anxiety fluttering in your stomach. 
"What I want," he said, his tone growing short. "Is for people to sort out their own bullshit, so I can worry about what's important. Which, if you haven't noticed, is much bigger than you and I and some stupid fight in the lobby."
As soon as he said it, you knew he was right. But he was still being an asshole. You were only trying to help.
You put your hands up in defense. "I just thought you'd wanna know." Then whispered under your breath "douchebag," as you turned to walk away.
But your progress was halted by something tugging at your wrist. You looked down to see what it was, and closed your eyes, quietly cursing yourself. Neon red webbing. 
"You wanna run that by me again?" Miguel asked. 
You swallowed a lump in your throat. "Nothing, it was nothing. I'll just leave." 
You tried to pull free, but he was reeling you in, like a helpless fish on a hook. "Oh, no," he said, sounding somewhat amused. "No, I heard you. 'Douchebag,' eh? Not very creative. But…" he paused when you were closer, close enough that he could look directly down at you. "I want to hear you say it again. Face to face, this time."
You frowned. "How can we be 'face to face' when you're so high above me?"
He wagged a finger at you. "You've got a point there." In a sudden flash of tingling, your Spider sense triggered. But Miguel was too fast, he'd been doing this for far longer than you had. In an instant, you were wrapped in neon red and being hoisted upward onto the platform. He planted you right in front of him, putting his hands on his hips and leaning down so his eyes were level with yours. "Happy?"
You huffed. Why was he like this? A self-satisfied grin played at the edges of his plush lips as he scrutinized you with bloodshot eyes. Finally registering how close he was, and how huge he was, you started turning red. He could throw you around like you weighed nothing, couldn't he? He had just lifted you up here with hardly any effort. You'd never thought about another Spider like this. Sure, you were all strong, but there was something in Miguel's upper body that you couldn't free from your thoughts, something in those massive shoulders, something-
"Well?" He asked, breaking your trance. "I don't have all day."
You met his eyes. They looked so tired. You didn't want to insult him anymore. You wanted to leave and pretend like the thoughts you had about him never existed. 
But you knew what he needed to hear. 
"Douchebag," you repeated. 
He smiled, and it was humorless. "It's nice to know that this is what people think of me. That I did this for all of us, and everyone in our worlds. And the word that comes to mind when people talk to me is…?" He raised an eyebrow prompting you. 
"...Douchebag."
"That's right!" He pointed a finger at you. "I don't ask for much. I ask for people to listen and respect the operation. And that means respecting my time, too, eh? No more coming right to me with petty fights that people can solve on their own." 
You just stared back up at him, hardly registering his words. Respect time, no more fights, whatever. His hair looked so soft. 
"Got it?" He asked, starting to sound frustrated again. 
You nodded.
"I need to hear you say it."
"G-got it." 
"Good." He patted your shoulder. What an odd gesture. It was very nearly caring. "Let's get you out of here." He flexed his hand, talons coming free. He quickly swiped at the webbing he had wrapped you in, the strands snapping and falling to the floor in shreds.
Your heart was hammering in your chest. His brow furrowed. "Listen, I know I'm scary, but I'm just doing my job."
You shook your head. "I'm- I'm not scared."
"Are you not? Dios mio, I can hear your blood pumping." 
His heightened senses were going to be your death sentence. The longer he stood staring at you, the worse your thoughts became. But you couldn't bring yourself to move away from his attention. You crossed your arms, trying to make yourself small so he would stop looking at you. 
He raised an eyebrow. "What, do you wanna be friends or something?"
No, you thought, I want us to be something different. 
Despite your best efforts, you blurted out, "no, in all honesty, I've never really liked you that much." Why did you say that? What was wrong with you? 
He cocked his head, his eyes widening, processing what you just said. He started to nod. "Oh, wow. Great. Thank you so much. What a productive conversation. And you're still here because…?"
"Because you getting the last word in is infuriating to me." You couldn't stop yourself. You knew this was bad, but you couldn't stop.
"How do you think I feel? You came here for the sole purpose of bothering me and now you won't leave me the shock alone." He pointed at you again, forefinger lightly jabbing your collarbone. "You. Can. Leave. This is my lab, you little brat." He spoke the words through gritted teeth, and you could just barely see his elongated canines, gleaming and sharp in the light of the lab's computer screens. 
Oh no.
You stood there, just blinking at him. You've never seen someone so annoyed looking so attractive at the same time. It wasn't fucking fair.
He suddenly started, the anger from his face vanishing, confusion taking its place. "Oh yeah?" He asked, his voice taking on a mocking tone. "That's why your heart is pounding?"
Fuck.
"What, uh… what do you-"
"Don't play dumb with me.” He placed a gloved finger under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. “I can smell that you're turned on. Is that why you came here to bother me? So you could gawk at me? And maybe I'd fuck you if you were lucky."
You backed up, nearly slipping off the edge of the raised platform. Miguel reached out and caught your hand, pulling you in close to him. Unconsciously, you splayed your hands on his chest to steady yourself. His body was so warm and inviting, and you were drawn into it like a little planet circling a blazing sun. 
What was happening, what were you doing?
"Is that what you thought?" He asked, seeming to echo the questions you asked yourself, his voice growing more quiet as he looked down at you.
You quickly raised your hands away from him, closing them into loose fists and crossing your arms again. "No," you said, truthfully. 
"But you're thinking it now." He nodded. "Aren't you?"
After a pause, you nodded too.
"I really need to hear you say it." He probed.
"I'm…. I'm thinking about it now."
"Oh, are you? Thinking about what?"
You swore under your breath, doing a poor job of hiding a scowl. You should've known he wasn't going to make it easy for you. 
"Thinking about you fucking me." You grimaced after admitting it, waiting for him to mock you and disown you. 
He smiled. "That's funny. I thought I was a douchebag." 
"Fuck you, man!" You threw your arms up into the air, turning around and preparing to hop down from the platform. 
“No no no, come on, now,” he said, grasping your wrist with a large, warm hand. His grip was surprisingly gentle. “Why don’t you give me a chance to change your mind?”
You looked him in the eyes, and there was a small spark there. You sighed, unable to deny the reaction your body had to him. You wanted him. And he was offering himself to you. What reality was this where that was even possible? Not ten minutes ago, you were hardly closer than strangers. “Okay,” you said, offering him a small grin. “Don’t fuck it up.”
“Oh, I won’t.” In another swift movement, he swept you up into his arms and laid you down on your back on the lab floor. He was above you, arms on either side of your head, boxing you in. You could hardly see anything past those vast shoulders. You swallowed. He raised one hand to your head, petting your hair. “Look at that. You really are so pretty. Couldn’t help thinking it even when you were pissing me off earlier.”
You furrowed your brow. “I thought you wanted to change my mind, asshole, is this-”
He cut you off as his hand lowered, skating down your side and brushing against your breast before traveling even further. You exhaled shakily, trying to prepare yourself for this. Miguel O'Hara was touching you. Miguel O'Hara was going to fuck you. 
When he reached the curvature of your hips, he fondly squeezed, humming to himself. "Soft… so soft. You wouldn't want an asshole like me to eat you out, would you?"
Your brain short-circuited at how blatant he was. "No, I- I would, I really fucking would, Miguel."
"Oh, are we on a first name basis, now?" He hooked a clawed finger into the fabric of your suit, ripping a huge gash into it so he could access you. That… that was your good suit. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to keep yourself from quipping back at him as he scooted downward, wrapping his arms around your thighs and lining himself up with your pussy. You threw your head back in anticipation, screwing your eyes shut. How was this real? How was-
You gasped as his tongue made gentle contact with your sex, slowly and carefully licking a long swipe from your opening to your clit, like he was savoring the first taste of you. 
"You taste even better than you smell, amor." 
Fuck, he was savoring you. You trembled beneath him, your hands tentatively reaching down to tangle with his hair. And it was even softer than you thought it would be. 
"That's it," he encouraged. "Hang onto me." 
You listened, your grip on his hair tightening. As if that were his cue, he brought his tongue back to your aching pussy, lapping at the wetness that was all but dripping from you. Your body immediately felt too hot on the metal floor, and you were convinced that you were beginning to melt under the warmth of his tongue. The almost-penetration was sending you spiraling; he was giving you nothing that you needed while somehow simultaneously answering your every secret desire. You needed that mouth on your clit. Your greedy, aroused body needed more, more. You had him all to yourself and he was teasing you. It wasn't fair. 
You whimpered as you gripped soft locks of his hair, waiting for him to take the plunge. Waiting…. And waiting. But he just kept lapping contentedly at your entrance, just barely dipping his tongue inside. The feeling was pleasant but infuriating. What was he trying to do? Did he want you to beg for it?
Oh.
…He couldn't be serious. 
But that was the only conclusion you could reach. After all, he'd been asking to hear you say things this entire encounter, prompting you to be vocal. All you had to do was swallow your pride. 
"M-Miguel…?" You asked, your voice quiet.
He stopped, picking his head up slightly, looking at you from under his thick brows. "Mm? What is it?"
"Please, um… please…." Your voice caught in your throat. Why was this so difficult?
"Oh, you're begging me now? What could you possibly be begging for… Isn't this what you wanted?"
You narrowed your eyes as he held your gaze with that lackadaisical expression. 
"Please," you started, feeling humiliated. "Please suck on my clit."
"Good girl. All you had to do was ask." In no time at all, his mouth was back on you. He zeroed in on your clit, taking the sensitive bundle of nerves into the wet warmth of his mouth, sucking on it just as you needed. The feeling was so intense and you couldn't suppress any of the noises that escaped you. And the noises he made didn't help in the slightest. He was humming as he worked your clit, the gentle vibrations of his voice adding to the overstimulation. He stopped for a moment to instead use his tongue, and the pointed attention was delicious.
"How are you feeling, amor?" He asked without fully pulling away from you, his voice slightly lisping from the contact. 
"Good," you gasped, feeling like you were getting close to the edge. "So, so good. Please keep going."
"Tell me when you're going to cum."
"Yes, yes I will." 
He continued his efforts, mercilessly devouring you, a cacophony of wet sounds rising to meet your ears. You could feel your orgasm building, your body singing. He was playing you like an instrument. That warm, pulsating feeling was building deep inside your core, threatening to burst apart with every second. 
Your grip on his hair tightened. "Miguel, I'm- I'm gonna-" 
Your back started arching and you closed your eyes as… nothing happened. He pulled his head away from you. You opened your eyes to see him looking at you from between your legs, one of his eyebrows raised. 
"Wha- what?" 
He smirked. "Oh, this? It's nothing... It's just that douchebags usually don't care about making women cum."
Your jaw dropped open. This again? You gritted your teeth, your clit swollen and thrumming with your pulse. You needed release. 
"I'm sorry." You said, your voice desperate. 
He raised his eyebrows, amused. "Oh, wow, that was fast." His tone was so matter-of-fact.
"I'm sorry for calling you a douchebag and an asshole, I was wrong about you. Please let me cum." You spat the words out so quickly that you hardly registered what you were saying. 
"How could I say no to that?" He returned to you, gripping your thighs more firmly than he had before, shamelessly moaning into you as you started to curl up off the hard metal floor. Your orgasm was so close, it was right within your grasp. Your breath started going ragged as you held onto him for dear life. In a white hot burst of pleasure, you came, swearing loudly as Miguel drank up every bit of you, letting you ride your orgasm out on his skillful tongue. He slowed down right as you did, matching your pace perfectly until you were a heaving mess on the floor in front of him.
"My turn, now," his voice came through the fog, it sounded distant. But you could feel strong arms lifting you up and all but dropping you onto your back on one of the lab's computer consoles, its screen turning off in response. He dismissed a section of his high tech suit, his manhood coming free. You couldn't help but gawk at him. His body was unreal. From the small window he created, you could see hard lines of muscle carved into golden skin. Your head started spinning again. 
He began pumping his hard cock as he looked down at you, spreading your legs further open with his free hand. "See how easy it is to get what you want when you aren't being a brat?" The way his muscles flexed through his tight suit while he worked himself was maddening. You wanted- no, you needed him to fuck you. You needed him inside you. 
You nodded your head, answering his question. 
"So, tell me what you want." 
"I want you to fuck me," you answered, still panting from your orgasm. "I want to feel you so badly. Please, Miguel."
"You're a fast learner," he purred, bringing his cock to your folds and lubricating himself on the mess you two had made. He slid over your slick entrance, his head touching your aching clit as he moved up and down. "I'll fuck this pretty cunt for you, since you asked so nicely." 
He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed himself inside of you, inch by thick inch. You moaned, the feeling of finally being full was luscious, he was pressing at your walls from all angles. At last, when he was in up to the hilt, he stayed there for a moment while his large hands found your waist. 
"My God, look at you. You took all of me, and so shocking well. You," he exhaled, seemingly taking a second to compose himself. "You feel so good." 
"Thank you," you whispered, breathless. He was praising you. It was… nice to hear. Stubbornness be damned.
He chuckled to himself. "Please and thank you? You really do learn fast. You've earned this, amor." And with that, he pulled himself out of you, slamming back in with a hard slap. Over and over, he fucked you with the entire length of his cock, hitting spots inside of you that you weren't sure even existed. "Lemme hear you, I wanna hear it all."
You obeyed. "O-oh my God, Miguel, fuck. It's… it's so good. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you."
Thanking him fueled his fire; his grip on your waist tightening, red eyes sparkling wildly. "Good girl, that's it… watching my cock disappear inside of you… it's making me crazy. You like getting fucked by someone you hated before all this? You wanna get filled up by someone you don't even like?"
"Yes, please." Your back arched into him, the pressure from his unwavering thrusts overwhelming you. The feeling was impossibly perfect, your body tingling from your head to your toes. He really did fit inside of you so well.  
"You'll get it, baby. Keep being good for me, you'll get it." 
As he continued, his hands roamed your body. Groping at your breasts, resting on the soft slope of your stomach. You grabbed one of his traveling hands, a rogue feeling overtaking you as you brought it up to your throat. 
His eyes widened in disbelief. “Y-yeah? You want me to choke you?” He sounded excited.
“P-please,” you huffed, grabbing onto his forearm.
“Holy shit, you’re something else.” He began applying gentle pressure to your airway as he kept fucking you. It was the perfect amount of constriction; suppressing your breath intake just enough for your head to feel pleasantly airy. He was good at that, why was he so good at that?
Between the way he was pounding you and the way he was choking you, your muscles started to bear down on him.
"Yes, yes, squeeze that cock. Good girl. You’re gonna get what you want.” 
You clenched down on him, your orgasm rocking you to your core as he fucked you through it. It hit you in giant waves, crashing over you and pulling you into the undertow. You felt completely drunk on it. The warmth of it was everywhere in your body, all the way up to your fingertips. Your head swam, your eyes rolling back into your head. Miguel swore to himself, his tempo becoming more irregular. He released your throat, hands flying down to grip the console. You thought you could hear it cracking. 
“God, you’re tight. I’m gonna fill you up.”
“Yes,” you rasped, your body shaking. 
He growled as he came inside of you, bearing his fangs in clenched teeth once more, and you could feel his cock twitch followed by the heat of his seed as it stuffed you full. He lingered over you, his eyes looking frenzied as his gaze flicked over your face, his chest heaving with every recovering breath. 
You released a deep sigh, smiling tenderly at him. “Thank you, Miguel.”
“You, uh,” he started awkwardly, running his hands through his hair. He still hadn’t even pulled out of you yet. “You earned it,” he repeated. 
He took a short, unsure step back, as he pulled his length free from you. You could feel his cum leaking from you upon his release. There was so much of it. 
He held his hand out to you to help you up, and you grasped it, smiling again as you got to your feet. 
“I’ll clean this mess up, but you.…” He scanned your frame. “...I’ve got a pair of pants on one of the lab chairs down there.” He pointed toward a particularly cluttered section of his space. “Bringing them back would be a much better excuse to see me than a fight in the lobby.”
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katsu28 · 6 days
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home is wherever you are
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
summary: secretly falling in love with your best friend is tough. secretly falling in love with your best friend who also happens to be your roommate is even less than ideal. the solution? move out! (hint: it isn’t a very good one.) (5k)
warnings: angst with a happy ending, a smidge of google translated french lol
a/n: CHARLES LECLERC!!! CHARLES LECLERC!!!!LECLERC!!! LECLERAUGHCOUGHCOUGH
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“I still cannot believe you’re abandoning me.” 
Charles shoved another box of your things into the boot of your car rather huffily, as if to reiterate just how unhappy he was. 
“I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving out of your apartment.” You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully at him. You passed him the last box off the ground, wiping your hands off on your shorts before propping them on your hips. 
“That is quite literally the same thing.” He mirrored your stance in total seriousness, frown unwavering. “And it’s not my apartment, it’s yours now too. Your home.” 
You’d been living with Charles for a while now, having been suddenly evicted from your own place three, almost four years ago. With nowhere else to go, you’d turned to your best friend, and Charles had welcomed you with open arms, giving you a home when you’d needed it most. 
There were many good things about living with Charles—he liked to cook (which boded well with you, seeing as you were no master chef yourself. Except for when he’d gone through a questionable phase of combining cuisines that did not go well together.), he was respectful of set boundaries and agreed upon rules. You had the same taste in shows and movies, which made for little fighting when it came to deciding on what to watch. 
But most notably, he loved to play the piano. It was a hobby he’d picked up during long days spent staying at home, and he was good at it too. An electronic keyboard when he’d first started out, just to see if it was something he was serious about, but as he zoomed through the basics with ease, he’d splurged on a gorgeous white piano that stood proudly in the living room. 
Soon enough, it wasn’t unusual for the apartment to be full of music, beautiful songs of Charles’ own composing. 
He played whenever he had the feeling. Whenever he had something on his mind, whenever he was bored, anything, he’d spend hours at the piano, playing, playing, playing. Some might’ve called it annoying, but not you. You found it rather soothing. 
It had very quickly become a habit of yours to fall asleep listening to Charles play. Something about it seemed to always relax you just enough to the point where you could pretty much fall asleep anywhere if he was at the bench. 
Your favorite spot was on the sofa with a big blanket, watching him get lost in the notes until you drifted off. More often than not, you could rarely get a good night’s sleep without Charles’ accompaniment—your very own version of white noise. 
But truth be told, this past year of living together with Charles had been trickier than the first couple. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment things began to change, but something had definitely shifted between you. 
You’d been trying to write it off just the two of you being very close, but you’d been dancing on the line of close friends and more than friends for a long time. Falling asleep together cuddled on the sofa, lingering touches whilst you were in the same room and in passing, hugs that lasted a little too long to be considered normal. 
The more your feelings for Charles grew, the more worried you became. Worried about what, you weren’t exactly sure. All you knew was you didn’t want to lose the longest and best friendship you’d ever had because you went and fell in love.
“I know. But I think it’s well past time I get out of your hair and try being on my own for once.” You said softly, stepping in to fold yourself into Charles’ arms. 
Most of that was true. You did feel like you needed to live by yourself for a chance, to see what it was like to be fully independent in your adult life. You’d moved in with Charles when you were twenty two, and you were twenty five now. It was time for you to venture out on your own. 
But the uncertainty of falling in love with your best friend was definitely also a contributing factor. 
He made a displeased sound at your words, but tucked you under his chin nonetheless. “I don’t want you to get out of my hair. My hair likes it with you here.” 
“I live fifteen minutes away, Cha. I’m not moving across the country. You and your hair can come over anytime.” You scoffed, giving him a gentle poke in the ribs. “And I’ll come over here all the time too, you know that.” 
“Fine, fine. I don’t know what I am supposed to do with your empty room now, but I’ll figure it out. Maybe I will take up scrapbooking. Knitting. Needlepoint, maybe. Turn it into a craft room.” 
“Maybe you can turn it into a music room. Move the keyboard in there, your piano.” 
“Ah, bien entendu, my piano. How will you ever fall asleep without my sweet, sweet melodies?” 
“I think I will manage just fine.” You chuckled. 
Charles held you at arms’ length, dark brows furrowing as he scowled. “What I’m hearing is you don’t love me anymore.” 
Oh, if only he knew. 
You smiled instead, patting his cheek good-naturedly. “Come on, you drama queen. I want to move in before the sun goes down.” 
Charles went full protection mode the second all your belongings had made it safely inside the apartment, intently checking every lock, window, door hinge, cabinet—not an inch of the apartment went uninspected by him. When he seemed fairly satisfied with his safety checks, he returned to where you were unpacking kitchen items over by the oven.
“Everything up to your standards?” You asked, pulling out a stack of plates wrapped in brown paper. Charles shuffled over, easing them out of your hands and unwrapping them to help put them up in the cabinet. “No one is going to break in through my window tonight?”
“Don’t even joke about that.” He grumbled, chucking the balled up paper at you gently. “Everything I checked is fine. You will be safe here.” 
Food was simple when it came time for dinner—takeout on the floor of your living room, because you hadn’t had the time to go shopping for a coffee table yet. Or a dining room table. Or even chairs, really. All you had were some pillows and an overturned cardboard box to put the food on. 
Charles had insisted on helping you furnish the whole place before you moved in but you’d declined, saying that you wanted to get a feel for the place before filling it with everything. The last time it would be this empty would be the day you moved out. 
He seemed a little quiet the rest of the night, but you didn’t press it until after dinner, whilst he was helping you with the washing up. Well, helping was a strong word. 
“You’ve been drying that plate for ages now.” You observed, tilting your head at him thoughtfully. Charles inhaled sharply, shaking his head like he’d been snapped out of a stupor. He glanced down at the completely dry plate, then back up at you blankly. “What’re you thinking about?” 
“You’re really going to be gone.”
“You say that like I told you I’ve only got days to live. I won’t be gone, Cha. I’ll be around.” You chuckled, flicking dish soap bubbles in his direction. Charles responded by flinging his towel at you, cracking a smile. You liked it when he smiled, hated it when he frowned. He was still unfairly attractive, but it wasn’t Charles’ scowl that made you fall in love with him. 
“We can spend the day together anytime, you can come over whenever you want, and if it makes you feel any better, I will give you your very own key.” 
That seemed to put him a little more in higher spirits. 
 “What will you ever do without me?” He wondered out loud, feigning a thoughtful expression. 
“Probably clean up a lot less. Be able to take a shower without running out of hot water halfway through. Oh! Have a bottle of shampoo last more than a month because someone—not naming names, of course, won’t use it because they’ve run out of theirs. Not have to fight for—” 
“Alright, alright, I get it!” Charles huffed, grabbing you by the shoulders and promptly shoving your face into his chest to stop you from talking. 
You grinned against the softness of his hoodie. “Shall I go on?” 
“No, no you shouldn’t.” His hold on you loosened, but you stayed right where you were, wrapping your arms around his torso. “Just admit it. You’ll miss me.” 
“I will miss you.” You said softly, pressing your cheek into the crook of his neck. If there was something Charles was unbelievably good at (besides literally anything he’d ever tried), it was giving the best hugs. Something about them made you feel safe, like nothing and nobody could ever hurt you as long as you were in his arms. 
“You already know how much I’m going to miss having you around.” 
“Yeah, I am pretty great.” 
A laugh rumbled through his chest. “You are.” 
“You’ve been the best roommate I could’ve asked for. Thank you for everything.” Your words were muffled between the two of you, and you were glad for it, because he didn’t seem to notice the waver in your tone. But he did squeeze you a little tighter, so maybe he did hear you. “I love you, Cha.” 
Charles’ voice seemed to waver just a bit too. “I love you too.” 
“Okay, okay, you really need to leave. Go before I change my mind and make you stay.” You blurted, pushing him away playfully. It was better than letting him see you get emotional. 
“Is that a promise?” 
“No, it’s a threat. Go home. I will see you soon.” You gave his hand one last squeeze, nodding reassuringly to rid him of the crease between his brows. “Don’t worry about me. Go, get some rest.” 
It was only then that he seemed satisfied enough to leave, but even then, he cast another backwards glance towards you on his way down the hall, as if he was waiting for you to beckon him back. You just smiled as best you could. 
You’d get over it. You had to. There was still a lot you needed to get done before you called it a night. 
It wasn’t until you were getting ready to go to bed that you started to feel lonely. You and Charles had your respective bedtime routines, but they always intertwined. 
You never liked being the one to turn off all the lights in the apartment because the switch was at the end of the hallway opposite from your bedrooms, so he knew to do it because you hated running back through the darkness after flipping the switch. 
He always filled a glass with water for late night sipping, but never remembered to actually bring it to his room until he was already in bed, so you always grabbed it for him so he wouldn’t have to make the trek back out the kitchen.  
The bathroom counter was where you’d find each other the most, terrible jokes and funny stories told muffled through toothpaste bubbles, even though you could’ve just waited until you were finished to tell each other. You’d flick water at him as you washed your face because he took up too much space at the sink, he’d turn off the tap in retaliation, things like that. 
Sometimes Charles would stay up later playing video games with his friends, or take some extra time to practice piano, so you wouldn’t get to do your well oiled machine routine, but he’d always take the extra second to pop into your room to say goodnight when he heard you bustling around, even if he was in the middle of something. 
The times you fell asleep on the sofa to Charles’ playing the piano, he’d camp out at the other end of the sofa for the night, or at the very least made sure you were covered with a blanket if he went to sleep in his own room. 
It was something you’d grown accustomed to over the years, oftentimes the well-needed end to a not so great day. Charles never failed to put a smile on your face, even with something as small and mundane as a bedtime routine. 
But there was none of that as you ran through your routine this time. 
You didn’t hear him shuffling around over in the other room, the muffled sounds of his shouts as he played his games, and most of all, you didn’t hear him and his piano. 
Because there was no Charles. Of course there wasn’t. You were in this new place that you hadn’t had quite nearly enough of a chance to get used to yet, alone, and it was finally settling in. 
Suddenly moving out and away from him seemed like the worst decision in the world. 
You knew it was only the first night. You had to give yourself a chance to reacclimate, and that would take time. So you inhaled a deep breath, trying to get as comfy as you could for a long, probably sleepless night ahead. 
It was nearing four in the morning when you finally decided to give up and call Charles. Part of you thought he might not even pick up the phone, because he was probably asleep. Any sane person would be sleeping right now. 
Much to your surprise, he answered on the second ring. 
“Why are you awake?” You asked, maybe a bit harshly. 
“Um, you are the one who called me? Why are you awake?” He replied, groggy voice still teasing. His accent always grew thicker when he was sleepy. You thought it was adorable. “You cannot sleep, can you?” 
“...No.” Your voice grew smaller. You felt embarrassed at the fact that you couldn’t even make it one full night without Charles around. “I just…I wanted to hear your voice, I guess. I miss you already, Cha.” 
Charles fell silent for a few moments, the only sound on his side of the line being his gentle exhales. “I miss you too. Do you want me to come over? I can stay the night, if you want.” 
“No. No, you don’t need to do that.” You said softly. “Can you just talk to me?” 
This was also something that had become somewhat of a ritual when either of you couldn’t sleep. 
You’d tiptoe into each other’s rooms quiet as a mouse, slipping into bed beside the other. Charles always stirred when he felt the bed dip under your weight, half asleep but still reaching out to pull you against his chest like it was second nature. On the occasions when he came into your room, you’d feel him tuck himself close to you, nosing against any part of you he could find with a content sigh. 
There was no rhyme or reason to the things you’d talk about in those moments, but eventually, somehow, you’d both end up asleep, usually fairly quickly. Maybe it was the extra added comfort of each other that helped, you could never tell. 
It wasn’t unusual to wake up a jumble of limbs tangled together, and neither of you ever addressed it either. Just went on with your business as usual, never talking about it because it was just something you did. To help each other sleep, of course. 
Another thing that really blurred the line between friends and more. 
Charles hummed a noncommittal sound, soft and fond like he always was around you. “I’ll do you one better. How about I play some music for you?” 
“Yes, please. Thank you.” You sighed, relieved. He knew what you needed without you even having to ask. 
You heard him get up, footsteps padding along until there was a thud and some shuffling coming from Charles’ side. A few warm up scales in and you were already feeling a little less anxious, letting yourself get comfortable. 
“Any requests from the audience?” 
“Been working on anything new?” You yawned, nuzzling a little deeper back into your pillow. 
“I have, actually. It’s still—fuck, how do you say it…a work in progress?”
“Anything you play is perfect.”
“You flatter me.” He snorted. “Alright, here goes nothing.”  
He began to play. You knew jack shit about music, so there wasn’t much you could think of to describe how it sounded, but you could describe how it felt. You could almost feel the emotion pouring from his playing, even through the scratchy quality of the speaker. 
It felt like something you’d hear in the background of a movie montage, lilting and delicate and warm notes swirling together to create a bright melody, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. 
Memories of good times with Charles flashed through your head—all the long days and even longer nights you’d spent together because you thrived in each other’s company, cooking together, binging Netflix shows until you both passed out on the sofa. 
Hushed laughing during dinners at fancy restaurants that Charles could get into by flashing his name, soft conversations accompanied with expensive food and even more expensive wine. 
Day trips up the coast with the top down on the car, pushing the speed limit just to feel an ounce of the freedom that it could give you. Walking through Monte Carlo on late night gelato runs, switching flavors because you both enjoyed each other’s choice more than your own. 
Most of all, you thought of the love you felt for Charles, ever since you’d first met him. You’d never been one to believe in the concept of soulmates, but fuck, it was so easy to think of him as yours. Never had you felt as much for someone as you did for him. 
God, why were you even thinking of those things? 
It would never happen. Any love that Charles had for you would be strictly platonic, limited to however much one could love their best friend. 
Surely he’d drawn inspiration from something else when he’d composed the beautiful piece. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know. 
Soon enough, you’d drifted off like you always did when Charles played, coincidentally right before he came to a lingering stop. 
Had you been awake, you would’ve heard him say that the beautiful piece had been inspired by you. Instead you were fast asleep, still none the wiser to anything. Maybe it was a good thing. You might not have believed it if you’d heard him. 
-------
Charles was on your doorstep first thing in the morning, coffee and pastries in hand when you opened the door for him. 
“Hello, good morning, your savior is here. And with breakfast!” He chirped, coming to just enough of a halt for you to slide an arm around his shoulders in a hug and grab one of the drinks out of the tray before he swept past you.
Bright morning sunlight poured into the open area, washing the whole place aglow. A warm breeze floated in through the ajar window, rattling the shutters only slightly, and you could hear the all too familiar sounds of the city in the morning coming from the streets below. It was a gorgeous picture of peace; one of the apartment’s many fun quirks that convinced you to go for it in the first place. 
The only thing that might’ve rivaled the beauty of the moment was Charles standing at the window, leaning against the sill drinking his coffee while the breeze ruffled his hair. His back was to you as he checked out the view, but even the mere image of him here was nice. 
You sipped your own coffee, smiling to yourself when you realized Charles remembered exactly how you took it. You didn’t even need to look inside the bag to know they were your favorite pastries from the bakery down the street from your former apartment that both you and Charles loved. He was always thoughtful like that. Things like remembering your favorite foods and drinks, and going out of his way to get them as a little pick-me-up. 
It seemed wrong to ruin the moment, but you felt like you had to say something. 
“I’m sorry for waking you up last night.” You sighed, taking a cross-legged seat on a pillow. 
Charles turned away from the window, shaking his head quickly. He took a seat on the floor next to you, long legs stretching out towards your crossed ones to nudge a sneaker against your socked foot. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, I’m glad you called me.” 
“Right, but it’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it? First time on my own and I didn’t even last a whole night.” 
“Not pathetic.” He insisted, entirely firm in his words. He set his cup down as if it could strengthen his point. “It is a change, definitely. You can’t expect yourself to get used to such a big change immediately. It takes time, you know.” 
You messed with the lid of your cup, picking at the plastic with a scowl. “I know. But I can’t always come running to you whenever I need help. It’s not fair to you to have to keep rescuing me every time I need saving.” 
“Okay…” He trailed off, stretching out the last syllable in confusion. “I feel this is about something more than just last night. We can talk about it, if you would like?”
“I don’t know what it is.” You huffed. “I thought I was ready to be on my own, but maybe I’m not. Maybe I don’t know I’m doing and I’ll never figure it out, and—” 
“Whoa, whoa, slow down. Where is this all coming from?” 
“I don’t know,” You repeated, bordering on a whine. “But what I do know is that I can’t always keep relying on you for everything. It’s not good for me, or for you.” 
“You know, you could always just move back home if you’re truly not ready to do things on your own.” Charles offered, taking a casual sip of his own drink.
Home. He said it so casually, like home was with him instead of this new place you’d chosen to make yours. In a way, Charles was your home. Safety, comfort, love—all the things that made something home, you felt with him. 
That was the problem. You didn’t feel right relying on him for all those things, not without him being aware of how you actually felt about him. It seemed like too much of a burden to put on a friend, even one as perfect as Charles. 
His eyes met yours over the rim and he shrugged. “I still don’t know why you were so insistent on moving out in the first place.” 
You sighed, again. There weren’t many ways you could make yourself any clearer. Other than telling Charles one of the real reasons why you had to leave, which again, was more of a last resort (hopefully not at all) type of thing. “It was time—” 
“It was time for you to venture out on your own, yes, I know. But it doesn’t seem to be working out so well right now, does it not?” The last sentence seemed to slip out of Charles’ mouth before he knew what he was saying, because his mouth snapped shut right afterward. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I don’t want to argue.” 
But what had been done was done, what had been said was out there for you to know. Your coffee suddenly left a bitter taste in your mouth, and the traffic from outside became glaringly loud. The once peaceful atmosphere had been shattered now that you knew Charles’ true thoughts on it all. 
You stood up, letting your feet take you across the room from him. “No. Tell me more, Charles. Tell me how you really feel.” 
His nose wrinkled at the use of his full name. You never called him Charles unless you were upset with him, which wasn’t that often. Even hearing it come out of your own mouth seemed foreign. 
That seemed to change his reaction, because he stood too instead, doubling down on his words. “Okay. Yes, that is how I feel about you leaving. You barely even talked to me about it, and the next thing I knew, you were packing all your things into boxes! I didn’t understand where this—this sudden desire to leave came from. I still don’t.”
“You don’t have to understand it. It’s already done.” 
“Did I—did I do something wrong?”
You almost faltered. Almost.
“Did you ever think maybe me wanting to leave had nothing to do with you?” 
“Honestly? No. It feels like it has everything to do with me. It feels like you moved out because you didn’t want to be around me anymore!” Charles exclaimed. “And I have kept my mouth shut, I’ve been trying to be supportive of your decision, but I think I have a right to know. Am I why you wanted to leave so badly?” 
“That’s…part of it.” You admitted. Charles froze, brows flying up towards his hairline. “But not because of anything you did. Not because of the reason you’re thinking of.” 
“I don’t really see any other explanation. And I am sorry, but that is a shit excuse. I would’ve thought that you of all people would tell me the truth.” He didn’t sound angry, just disappointed and a little hurt. Somehow that felt worse. You’d rather him be mad at you than hurt by you. 
“I didn’t want to move out.” You said firmly. 
“Then why did you?” 
“I had to! I—I couldn’t live there anymore.” 
“But why?” He sounded desperate, begging for you to clue him in to any reason, anything at all that would help him understand. And god, as scared as you were of changing things by telling Charles how you really felt about him, you were infinitely more scared of losing him for good if you didn’t. 
“Because I’m fucking in love with you, Charles!” You blurted, finally. “I couldn’t live with you any longer, keeping this huge secret all the time, because it truly made me feel like I was about to explode. I just couldn’t do it anymore—pretend like everything was alright when every time I looked at you, all I could think about was how I felt about you! How much I felt for you.” Your voice rose with every word, emotion lacing your tone. 
You could feel the tears burning your eyes, threatening to fall no matter how much you willed them not to. “I just thought, maybe if we lived apart, if we didn’t see each other all the time, maybe those feelings would go away.” 
Charles blinked at you slowly. He scrubbed a hand over his cheek, across his mouth, letting it disappear into the neckline of his hoodie as he continued the motion near his jaw. Still, he said nothing. You weren’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad one, but still you continued. 
“So no, it wasn’t because of anything you did. Or maybe it was, for making it so fucking easy to fall in love with you. I don’t know. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t say anything to me, but I’m not sorry for making the decision on my own. It was for the best.”
There it was, out there in the open at last. It felt like a proverbial weight lifted off your shoulders, but at the same time like a thousand rocks sinking to the bottom of your stomach, because he wasn’t saying anything. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was how you’d fuck up the best friendship you’d ever had. 
Charles was silent for the longest time before he replied, and when he did, his voice was quieter than you’d ever heard it before. It felt unnerving. “You could’ve just told me.” 
“Told you?” You had to fight the urge to let out a bitter, watery laugh. “Telling your best friend you’ve fallen in love with him isn’t just something you mention at the bathroom sink one night.” 
“It is, if he feels the same way about you.” 
A coldness crept down your neck, shooting through your veins like you’d just had a bucket of ice cold water dumped over your head. 
“No you’re not—you don't...you can't.” You whispered, disbelieving.
Charles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “What, do you want me to prove it?” 
You couldn’t give him an answer even if you wanted to. You weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to say a damn word, just in case this was all a dream and you'd wake up any second, still alone, still without him there.
He must’ve taken your silence as a yes to his question, because he crossed the room in three strides, took your face in firm hands, and he kissed you. 
Despite your utter shock, you managed to kiss him back clumsily, fingers curling into his hoodie tightly. Charles kissed you like he was afraid to let you go, like you’d slip through his fingers if he wasn’t careful enough.
A guiding hand curled around the back of your neck, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss, but only for a few seconds before he broke away, panting. His forehead stayed pressed against yours, soulful green eyes boring into your own in total seriousness.
“Do you believe me now?” 
“Maybe.” You breathed, letting your nose bump against his gently. This was not a dream. Charles was real and here and one hell of a kisser (just as you suspected).
“I am in love with you.” He murmured, stroking his thumb over your cheek fondly. “I have been for a long time. And I never thought you would feel the same way.” 
“I love you, Cha.” You were suddenly brought back to last night, when you’d uttered the same words to him. Only this time, they had a whole different meaning to them. 
This time, you knew Charles loved you in the same way you loved him.
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kbsd · 1 month
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when a lovely flame dies, smoke gets in your eyes
OR: what were we supposed to take away from episode 4 if not ‘bucky is a war widow’
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tempo-takoyaki · 9 months
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Heaven Official's Blessing except I haven't read the book, remember nothing of the donghua, and saw a few spoilers.
Part 6 ! As always, please, no spoilers in the replies or in the reblogs! I read all the tags, and I intend on reading the novels once I'm done with this serie. In this case, a spoiler would mean any sorts of correction regarding what I've put in this comic: I know I'm wrong, this is the point of this serie. (Character's name or role in the story counts as well.)
And thus we begin the desert arc! We're getting closer to this comic's final...
First Part | <<Previous Part<< | >>Next Part>> | Final Part
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linderosse · 10 months
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Based on a scene from Ch2 of The Secrets We Keep.
(Note: This takes place in the same universe as Wielders of Wisdom. Certain characters’ arcs are intertwined, but you should be able to read one without reading the other.)
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dollsuguru · 3 months
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black is the color of my true love’s hair
♡ your devotion to suguru is second to none - you would do anything for your beloved! bonded by true love, loyalty, & utter admiration, these are a few moments where suguru has been unbelievably thankful for you & smitten by your acts of love & service! (a story from my suguru geto: valentine’s day fic list!)
contents: f!reader, no curses au, reader is short/blushes/has hair that can be ran through with fingers! slightly suggestive, cursing, mentions of depression/anxiety/self-destructive behaviors. but i promise this is a soft, fluffy fic! it’ll make sense when you read it! dividers are from @saradika! w.c: ~ 11.5k
a/n: belated birthday fic for my beloved husband suguru geto <3 the title of the fic is based on a rendition of the song “black is the colour” by celtic woman! imo it’s the most loving & devotional song i’ve ever heard so i wanted to do a story based on those themes with my favorite black-haired man <3 MY true love <3 p.s. this is my first time ever writing an actual fic & it got a bit long because i got carried away so please bear w me! i hope you enjoy and happy valentine’s day! <3 MWAH!
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it’s a simple action, really.
you tilt your head slightly to the right and lift your face up to gaze adoringly at him through your lashes, a mirthful twinkle dancing in your eyes. a soft smirk coupled with a light blush adorns your angelic features, a precious look, which suguru has come to be utterly enchanted by due to the loving action that follows immediately after.
you catch him off guard the first time you do it.
the first time you kiss suguru’s knuckles, he falters.
it’s the way that you do it. naturally & effortlessly, as if it’s like second nature, that causes suguru to stop in his tracks and dedicate all of his attention to you.
his mesmerizing gaze is directed at you, molten gold eyes inquisitive. irrevocably fond.
he attentively watches as you softly grab his large warm hand in your small cold one. his hands are slightly rough yet supple due to his religious use of the honey-almond handcream you bought him earlier in the week.
he notices, rather than intertwining your fingers with his own and holding them, you smoothly bring his hand up to your face, wrapping your digits loosely around the perimeter of his long slender fingers.
your thumb gingerly caresses his ring finger (the one that holds a devout vow of eternal love), your featherlight touch raising wonderful shivers across his body. with the utmost care, you delicately, as if he’s made out of precious china, brush your supple glossed lips against his fingers, relishing in the coolness of his promise ring that encases both his aquamarine birthstone & your own.
your low-lidded enamored eyes never leave his affectionately curious ones — both of you preciously holding the other ones gaze. eyes locked in a staring contest of love.
utterly content with his undivided attention, you gently press a soft kiss to his knuckles.
a sign of affection.
an act, a promise, of complete & utter devotion.
his pierced eyebrow raises slightly due to the suaveness of your actions. he tries to gather his bearings, his brain fuzzy with your actions — did you actually just do that?
suguru’s amber eyes widen significantly, soft black eyelashes fluttering like raven wings against the tan of his cheek that’s blushed with a hue of raspberry red. mouth slightly ajar in surprise, his silver lip ring glints like starlight in the sunset daze of the evening, while his pierced tongue is pressed against his own cheek to stop himself from becoming a bumbling, stuttering mess.
if he speaks — he wholeheartedly believes all that’ll tumble out of his lips will be unabashedly fervent divulgances of: “i love you. i love you. i love you.”
adoration blooms out of his ribcage like a meadow of daffodils, sweetness enveloping around his heart, soft ivory petals and sage green tendrils wrapping themselves delicately over his bones. he reckons that if you couldn’t hear his heartbeat hammering out of his chest before, you definitely can now.
it’s almost as if his brain is in clouds of cotton candy, his mind in a sweet haze of shock, love, & affection. he finds himself whispering airily, “why’d you do that?”
tenderly stroking away silky strands of ink-black hair that wisp around his ethereal face, the fond smile you grace him with is saccharine sweet, “i felt like it.”
unbelievably charmed, he can’t help the giggle that spills its way out through his mouth like honey, a syrupy-sweet sounding little thing. his shaky fingers cover his rosy lips slightly as he laughs bashfully. he’s a bit shy because of it, but you don’t think a sound has ever been so melodious to your ears. you’d get down on one knee to kiss his knuckles reverently as many times as he wants just to hear his laughter over and over and over again.
the way you see it, it’s as if you were put on this earth to devote yourself to him.
like a loyal knight kisses the ring on the hand of their king with the utmost veneration, you’d do the same. without question, worshipping the ground whereupon he stands like a faithful follower would do to a cult leader. you figure in all of the other multiverses, you’re ultimately doing the same thing as what you’re doing in this one: loving him — devoutly. earnestly. passionately.
if the look of ardent rapture on your face is anything to go by, suguru might faint with the rush of pure love & endearment that flows like nectar throughout his veins.
he feels his blush bloom over his warm face which rushes towards the tips of his pierced ears, a clear sign of you flustering him.
wanting to gain back some semblance of control of the situation, he puts on a poker face, a gentleness in his eyes & a fondness in his smile still shining through. his black-nail polished thumb grazes your soft wind-chilled cheek. a beacon of warmth. a caress of admiration accompanied with a well-maintained façade of smoothness. a comforting touch for the both of you.
“well, aren’t you just so sweet.” suguru can’t help the coo that escapes his cherry red lips when you look up at him with your precious doe eyes, “my pretty little baby.”
he softly pinches your cheek, admiring the soft plush. he cradles your cheek with the same hand, & carefully smoothes down your hair that’s been strewn around a bit by the evening wind with the other. suguru pats your head in a nurturing manner in the process, another fond coo escaping him when he sees you preen at the attention he gives you, affectionately watching you revel in the flattering treatment.
your eyes widen with joy, always keening with any praise he showers you with. “i’d like to think so! now come on sugu, your pretty little baby has a lil surprise for you!” you playfully wink at him, your smile beaming like sunshine.
your warm eyes map his stunning features reverently, memorizing his elegant visage. drinking in his otherworldly beauty. as if you could never get enough.
while you openly admire him, suguru does the same to you. he doesn’t think that he’s ever been this enamored by a human being before. you’re the center of his universe, and he can’t imagine his life without you. all he can see in this moment is: you. his intense gaze holds yours as he captures both of your cheeks in his warm gentle hands, enveloping himself in your space. the perfume he bought you for your birthday invades his senses, clouding his mind in a welcomed haze.
all he can think of at the moment is: you. you. you.
all he can repeat in his mind is: mine. mine. mine.
his eyes gleam with a newfound sense of desire, wanting to show you exactly what you mean to him. what you do to him.
his golden eyes that are now an onyx, dilated with desire, flit to your mouth. his thumb outlines your pretty lips that are begging to be devoured by his own. his right hand moves to cradle the back of your head, tilting your face up so he can comfortably take control. long, slender fingers splay across your hair, bringing you closer to him, slightly tugging the strands to hear and feel you gasp against his mouth. he presses his left hand against the small of your back, coaxing you further into his body, fusing you both together. not wanting to be even a millimeter apart. he just can’t get enough of you.
it’s like a magnetic gravitational pull when he presses a soft, sensual kiss against your glossy lips. the cold metal ball in his pierced tongue explores the wet cavern of your mouth, and he can’t help but moan softly into you, relishing in your warmth.
he prays to the stars above, hoping that he can convey his sincere love, desire, & admiration for you like this. he breathes life into you and you do the same to him. kissing you with such vigor & passion, he feels like melding your lips & souls together wouldn’t be enough. he burns with a hunger to become one with you. he pleads to the universe that the intensity of his desire and yearning is relayed to you — that you crave it, crave him as much as he craves you.
with the way he’s ravenously kissing you, and how you’re excitedly kissing him back, it seems like you certainly received the message.
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suguru thinks it’s a little bit funny, but very much endearing, when you run around the living room like a bumbling fawn.
you zig-zag around the counter, making sure you pick up the purse that suguru got for you on your previous anniversary, an acrylic charm of your favorite anime character clinking against the metal fastenings. (another gift that suguru got you, begrudgingly he might admit, because who the hell is that toji fushiguro guy anyways…)
you double check that all the contents you need are inside: phone, charger, lip gloss, mini perfume, credit cards — AH! you run back to your room like a panther, not wanting to forget the most important thing you need for tonight!
he can’t help himself but laugh at your frazzled antics. “baby, you can calm down! we’re going on a picnic, it’s almost impossible for us to be late!” suguru admires your punctuality, he thinks it’s sweet how you never want to keep him waiting.
“FORGOT SOMETHING, I ALMOST DIED.” you rush back to him, big goofy smile on your face.
“baby… you’re heaving.” suguru covers his mouth, trying not to giggle out loud at how out of breath you are just by running a few feet. you’re so fucking cute.
“damn…” you huff out, hands on your knees, trying to get a deep breath in. “don’t call me out like that.”
he can’t help the laugh that bellows out of him, “sorry angel, now let’s go!” he places his large hands against your back, ushering you out the door quickly, “you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”
walking you towards his black mercedes, he opens the passenger side for you. with both hands on your hips, you remind him that, “it’s a SURPISE!”
after around 45 minutes of both of you jamming out to your playlist in the car, poking his cheek while childishly asking “are we there yet?” just to annoy him for fun, and ultimately being a proper passenger princess who tells him to “just trust me!” when he asks where you two are going, you both arrive to your destination.
and the sight that he sees, enthralls him. he whistles, beguiled by the view. from here, he can see how pretty and bright the stars are, it almost looks like they’re twinkling a “hello!” at the both of you. suguru thinks to himself, a picnic here at night? he’s unbelievably mesmerized at how your brain works sometimes.
he turns to face you, watching how engrossed you are in your phone, tapping away incessantly. wanting your full attention, his fingers grab your chin gently to force you to look him. he jokingly purrs, “if you took me here to kill me, i’ll have you know… sitting on my face would be much easier. much more preferred.”
you raise your eyebrow questioningly.
“because… it’s dark and we’re in random clearing.”
you stare at him blankly. “okay, you’ve hung out with me waaaay too much because i literally said that pick-up line to you last week and now you’re blatantly stealing it… like a THIEF. and also? you drove us here. who the hell is gonna drive me back if you’re dead?”
his brows furrow and he pouts, annoyed that you didn’t fall into his arms and blush because of his (your) raunchy words. he turns away from you and opens his door to leave, brattily huffing out a, “hmph. shut up, dumbass.” with his head held up high in the air, he struts away pompously to the trunk, opening and closing it loudly. a picnic basket with food you both made together in one hand, and a soft quilt of constellations made by haibara & nanami for suguru’s previous birthday in the other.
how fitting.
you loudly snicker to yourself while getting out of the car, amused by your boyfriend’s spoiled antics. while suguru is front of you admiring the view and trying to find a spot to set up, you admire the view in front of you. whistling out a, “damn…” suguru scoffs at your flirty behavior and gives you the finger. you send an air kiss back, and he playfully swats it away.
when he turns away again, you smile to yourself dreamily. taking out your phone, you click a quick candid of him against the night sky, admiring at how he looks like a painting.
the cream of his sweater and the contrast of his cascading ink-black hair entrances you, the silver hairpin you got him during a couple’s trip to kyoto in the top of his bun. the dangling deep violet amethyst gem glints in the moonlight, making him look even prettier. he turns his head to the left, from here you can’t see his eyebrow piercing or his lip piercing since they’re both on the right side of his face, but you do see his eyebrow slit — a scar which you’ve softly traced over many times. his side profile allures you effortlessly, the angular bridge of his nose and the soft cupid’s bow of his lip offering up a beautiful contrast that is suguru: graceful yet strong.
shaking your head slightly, you break out of your trance.
you go back to the task at hand, opening your notes app and ticking off the word at the top of your list.
stargazing. ✔️
you remember suguru mentioned it in passing one day when you were both in the beginning stages of your relationship. it was on his date bucket-list ever since he could remember, and of course you wanted to be the one who would take him!
you guide him over to a little meadow overlooking the city. surrounding you both are beautiful moonflowers, their sweetness enveloping your sinuses. the air is cool and crisp, and in the distance you hear the faint chirps & buzzing of hummingbirds along with the faint caws of ravens. you’re proud of yourself that you were able to find a place this picturesque. (even to this day, you still have an urge to impress suguru in any way that you can.)
both of you sit on the quilt suguru sets down, the homemade cloth providing an extra layer of cushioning that you feel atop the softness of the grass.
you’re upon the hill clearing, close enough to the city that you can comfortably drive back while still seeing a few citylights from where you are, but far away enough that the light pollution wouldn’t interfere with the date you had planned.
“it’s pretty.” suguru glances at the view, praising you while taking out the tonkatsu sandwiches, pasta salad, & chocolate covered strawberries from your picnic wicker-basket. you pick up a bag of chips and start munching on it while he lays down on his back propped up on his elbows, opening up a banana milk to sip on.
“i’m glad you like it,” your words are muffled in between loud crunches and fast chewing, “i was worried we’d be attacked by a mountain lion or a swarm of bees or some shit.” you say honestly.
he blinks. “i wasn’t worried about that. but i am now.” he takes another sip of his banana milk in case it’s his last.
he sits up and picks up the tonkatsu sandwich, handing you the bigger half. “but seriously, how’d you find this place?”
you take the smaller half from his grasp instead, switching with him. taking a bite, you hum happily. suguru is such a good cook. he smiles at you fondly and you answer him, “i was searching up good places to look at the stars. out of all the pictures and reviews, this was the prettiest one.”
you look up at him and swear that you see an actual twinkle in his eyes.
“stargazing?” he pushes his bangs back behind his ear, leaning into your face. loudly repeating, “STARGAZING???” nose pressed against yours, an excitedly manic look in his eyes.
he throws his head back and waves his arms in the air, lamenting, “i should’ve bought a fucking telescope!”
he directs his gaze back towards you, pointing his finger at you accusingly while demanding, “we are coming here again in the future, okay? i’ll bring all of my astronomy gear: a telescope, binoculars, a constellation book, and oooooh! maybe i’ll also bring…” you unintentionally tune him out, looking at him adoringly with stars in your eyes.
this is what you wanted to see.
if you’re being honest with yourself, the best thing to experience in your life is getting to see suguru act genuinely excited. his eagerness to discover new things is infectious, and the man before you is the real suguru: dorky, eclectic, passionate.
the graceful, poised, & elegant man you see when he meets new people and the air of sultriness & suaveness he has when he takes you on fancy dates are utterly enchanting & beguiling, but you think that suguru you see before you now — the excitable nerd, is the most beautiful.
he flicks your forehead, breaking you out of your reverie. “have you been listening to a word i’ve been saying?” he scolds you while pinching your cheek extra hard.
“yeah, you want a telescope so you can look at the stars. also, you look really pretty… the stars ain’t got nothin’ on you.” you rest your chin in your hand, smirking at him, reveling in the blush that paints his cheeks. it was just the cold wind!, he’d tell you later while playfully smacking you upside the head.
you continue, “plus, it’s really hot when you’re all stern and tellin’ me off. what’s my incentive to listen to every word you say if i can get you scoldin’ me instead?” you tilt your head against your hand, grin wide, teeth bared. the masochist in you wants him to scold you even further.
he crosses his arms at you, muscles bulging out of his cream cableknit sweater. your eyes drink up the adonis right in front of you, mentally undressing him. “instead of hitting on me, how about i explain all of the constellations to you in extreme detail?” he purrs to you while biting his lip. he flips his hair over his shoulder, sultrily looking at you. you see right through him of course, knowing that he’s appeasing to your attraction to him just so he can ramble about ursa major, ursa minor, & the big dipper.
frankly. it works.
he holds his hand out to you. a truce.
you shrug. “if you do it like a hot stern professor, then sure.” you both shake on it.
he rolls his eyes playfully, trying to stop the smile that threatens to creep up on his face. “ugh. fine. be quiet and come over here.” he picks you up underneath your thighs and puts you in between his legs. your back pressed against his warm, sturdy chest. he kisses you on the head, appreciative of your indulgence of him.
you giggle cutely and move yourself down, laying your head in his lap while he softly plays with your hair. his lovesick gaze, fond smile, & warm thighs envelope your body, filling your senses with suguru. he leans down and presses a soft kiss against your forehead, an addicting contrast of his cold lip ring & warm soft lips electrifying your skin.
he pops a single chocolate-covered strawberry in your mouth, and you playfully nip his finger. he traces your lips softly and starts playfully lecturing you about the constellations that grace the night sky.
he excitedly points at a cluster of three bright stars, “and that is orion’s belt!”
you point at a bright star in the night sky a few lightyears away from it, grin unbelievably wide.
“i think you might be missing one, babe. and you call yourself the modern-day galileo. heh.” you playfully tease him.
suguru rolls his eyes, “okay first of all, i have never called myself that. second of all — excuse me?” his scoff is slightly haughty, & he can’t help the indignant laugh that escapes out of him. “alright, since you know so much — enlighten me then, what’s that one called?”
“hmm… i believe it’s sugurugeto-020390.”
suguru’s eyes widen ridiculously like flying saucers.
“what?”
you push yourself out of his grasp to pull out a certificate from your purse and hand it to him. you sit next to him cross-legged, gauging his reaction.
“trust me, i wish i could get a better name for it, but it turns out there’s a lot of suguru geto’s in the world.”
pausing for a moment, you want to make sure that your boyfriend knows that he’s the only suguru geto on your mind.
giving him bedroom eyes, you purr, “none like you of course.”
he blinks. “what?”
your face falls comically, and you pout, “that bright star in the sky is yours.” you point at it haphazardly. “you’re the light of my life, you illuminate my life, you’re the sole star and center of my universe, blah blah blah… so i figured… ya know…!” you gesticulate wildly, and in the moonlight suguru can see the slight blush on your cheeks. your eyes looking everywhere else but his own.
you’re shy.
he can feel the sinus pressure building up against his nose and the tears glaze over his eyes.
you scratch the back of your head, trying to save face. you quickly backtrack, “i know it’s a bit cheesy and honestly, technically, this was probably a scam, but i figured it was the thought that counts and–”
“shut up.”
you look up at him in a state of shock, “HAH???”
he grabs your cheeks, his silver rings cool against your face, and smashes his lips against your own, teeth slightly knocking against yours. in his excitement, he pushes you down and straddles you, pinning you down to the grass — his body a comforting weight on top of you. he kisses you breathlessly, moaning loudly in your mouth. you can both taste the fruitiness of the strawberry on each others tongues, your own being pressed softly against his piercing. you pull away softly, needing to take a breath.
and the sight above you is one you don’t think you’ll ever want to forget.
suguru’s seductive low-lidded gaze is locked on you, parts of his bangs wisped across his face from the momentum of pouncing on you. he’s breathing heavily, and you can feel his rapid heartbeat hammering against yours, his nipple piercings slightly poking into your chest. a rosy blush spreads itself on his cheeks like a strawberry jam, and you don’t think any view could compare to the one you’re blessed to see now.
his lips are red and glossy, aching to kiss you again. you nod softly, begging him to continue. he slots his lips back with your own, tracing your bottom lip with his tongue before he bites down sensually, groaning loudly when he hears you whimper. he curls an arm underneath your body while kissing you passionately, bringing you closer to him, enveloping you into his space. all you can think about in this moment is: suguru. suguru. suguru.
pulling away once more, and peering deep into his amber orbs, you think that his eyes carry the most beautiful stars. a milky way of ochre and obsidian.
never casting your fond gaze aside, you intertwine your hand with his, bringing it to your lips, kissing each knuckle fervently.
his alluring gaze follows your devoted actions. butterflies brush their wings together inside his stomach, the flutter erupting throughout his whole entire being. he thinks that in the moonlight, underneath the canopy of stars that…
you are the most brightest.
the most beautiful.
the most meaningful.
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“honey! i’m hoooooooome!”
you feel unbelievably ecstatic that you can finally get to see your dear boyfriend after two weeks of being apart!
you already have the whole day planned out, perhaps you two can get takeout from your favorite local restaurant and watch anime together! you giggle happily to yourself while thinking about how you both can snuggle and have a cozy day in.
you take your shoes, coat, & purse off by yourself, wondering if suguru is out. usually by the time you’re at the door, suguru is already there welcoming you back with a massive kiss and a “missed you baby.” softly whispered in your ear, especially if you go on a long trip…
hmm, that’s a bit odd.
now that you’re looking around…
the apartment is in complete disarray.
it looks like a tornado blew through the whole place.
you shuffle in further… and dirty dishes are piled in the sink, overflowing dangerously. suguru’s clothes, random knick knacks, and pillows are strewn about as if he threw them all in a fit of rage. crumbs litter the carpet and you see what looks to be dirt tracks on the floorboards. the laundry is stacked high and the air is stuffy, it seems like no windows were opened in the time that you were away.
worriedly, you run into your shared bedroom.
suguru is there, thank god safe & sound, but what you see breaks your heart.
he’s laid face down, the left side of his cheek smooshed into the pillow, black tear tracks staining the fabric… he must’ve cried on a day when he went out? the bedroom is filled with dirty clothes on the floor, and you’re pained to smell the stench of cigarettes in the air. it’s light… maybe he only smoked one… but the fact that he felt the need to smoke at all, shattered your soul.
especially considering he quit ages ago when he started dating you.
you walk towards him lightly, not wanting to scare him off. his eyes are open and he looks at you… but he’s not really looking at you.
“you alright there, precious?” you softly whisper.
a perfunctory question. you know he’s not. he knows he’s not. but you know he’s in no state to answer any questions that you have.
“mhm.” he hums quietly. lethargic, not even having the willpower to answer with anything but a light rasp.
you brush back his bangs, and he shudders. his hair is greasy, oil-black hair clumping together in some places, matted in others. his lips are slightly chapped, a bit bloodied no doubt from his habit of biting his lip when he’s anxious. his fingernails are no stranger to the same action, stubbed and jagged down to the nailbed, his black nail polish chipped. bright amber eyes which often have a gentle look in them have turned into a dull ochre, obsidian pupils overtaking his irises.
they’re still gentle because he’s looking at you… but if you’re being honest with yourself, his eyes remind you a bit of a black hole right now.
vacant of light.
you press a soft kiss against his forehead and leave the room momentarily, thinking to yourself if anything can be done about this situation.
you decide to shoot satoru a quick text, seeing if he can help you out a bit with what you want to do.
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you breathe out a sigh of relief, a small smile gracing your face. you can always count on satoru. the man may be silly and eclectic, but at the core of his being, he’s someone who will always take care of and look out for his friends. he’s the type of person to drop anything to help those that he loves and adores.
(sometimes you think that satoru really was an angel put onto earth.) (but then you think that he was probably cast out of heaven for being a little shit.) (regardless, you still fucking love him for it.)
you walk back into the room, and lay your head against your pillow that is next to suguru’s. (it smells like him… he must’ve hugged it while you were away.)
cradling his cheek, you quietly say, “satoru’s also back from his business trip babe, he’ll be coming in about 10 minutes. how about you get a bit of sunshine with him, hmm?” he blinks slowly, nodding softly.
you hold his hand to help him up out from the bed, but he shoos you away, admonishing you slightly, “i can do it myself.”
you nod and leave him to it, mentally preparing yourself for the behemoth cleaning task ahead when he leaves.
suguru pads slowly into the bathroom and puts his hair up in a high ponytail with a hairtie he stole from you, not wanting to deal with it. he washes his face and gets a wet rag to pat down his body and underarms, not having the energy to shower. putting on a random black sweatshirt, he douses himself in your favorite cologne of his. he puts on your strawberry lip balm while popping a piece of mint gum in his mouth. with a tired sigh, he exits the bathroom, dragging his feet to where you are at the door.
he kisses your temple gently. you plant a soft kiss against his knuckles. you think your eyes deceive you when you see a semblance of a twinkle in his eyes. “love you baby. i’ll bring you back somethin’.” he rasps out softly.
even in his darkest times, even when his mind is playing tricks on him, he’s still thinking of you. wanting to take care of you. desiring to show his affections towards you in any way that he can.
you simply want to return the favor.
satoru arrives, wearing a crisp white button up and black tinted glasses, his snowy white hair shining like starlight thanks to the sunbeams that hit him. he hugs suguru gently, placing a soft kiss against his temples. suguru, dressed in all black just nods his head lightly at him. he’s not really interested in going out but knows that you two will force him regardless, reminding him that getting sunshine and looking at different scenery is important.
as they get into the car and back out of the driveway, suguru waves lightly at you, eyes tired yet gentle. satoru winks at you, proud & thankful that suguru has someone that cares so deeply for his mental, emotional, and physical wellbeing.
waving them both a goodbye, you go back inside and put on your cleaning playlist, ready to get started.
the first thing you do is open up the blinds and windows, wanting to air out the stuffiness that had built up over the past two weeks. considering the fact that suguru got a tinge paler and his undereyes looked sunken, you don’t think he got even a single beam of sunshine or any semblance of fresh air in the time that you were away.
padding over to the kitchen, you begin by doing the dishes. wearing your matching baby blue dishgloves, you get to work. it seems like suguru got anxious by seeing all the dishes piled up and started using some paper plates, which would explain the overflowing trash as well. the dishes are caked with food, but soften a bit by dousing them in water along with spritzing a powerwash grease-lifting spray. you sigh happily, glad that this will make it easier. after washing, drying, and putting away the dishes, you turn your attention to the kitchen surfaces.
you wipe down the counter and dining table in circular motions with a lemon-verbena spray, disposing of any old particles of food and random dust that lay upon the surfaces. already in your cleaning mode, you start to feel a little bit more energized.
opening up the refrigerator, you see that it’s been practically untouched. unfortunately, you gag when you smell rotting veggies and fruits, promptly rushing to your kitchen cabinet to get your trash bag to toss any old food away. you mentally remind yourself to get groceries in the morning, maybe if suguru is feeling a bit better after today you both can go together!
walking into the living room, you get your cleaning towel to beat the dust out of all the furniture. usually you & suguru both start with the bedrooms, but this time you figure you’d start with the living room as it’s in a bit of a better shape than the bedroom.
after you finish beating the living hell out of your cushions, you get to swiffering, mopping, and vacuuming — humming and singing loudly to suguru’s favorite songs on your shared cleaning playlist.
you go into the bedroom and start by gathering all of the clothes on the floor and the ones in the hamper to put inside the washing machine. you look around and do the same with the bedsheets and pillow cases, rubbing the eyeliner out of suguru’s pillowcase with some makeup remover first.
cleaning out all of the drawers, you make sure to throw away any random trash and only keep what’s necessary. clutter bothers both you and suguru, so you do your best to try and minimize that. you pick up empty bottles off the nightstand and throw them away. at least he drank a bit of water.
turning your attention to your bookcase, you wipe down the multitude of pictures of you & suguru that he put in frames.
there’s a few of both of you smiling after going on cute dates — suguru’s grin unbelievably wide while flipping off the camera and holding you close to his chest as you laugh loudly. there’s ones of you gazing at him adoringly, your love for him seeping out of the picture. there’s others of him looking at you — a soft fondness in his eyes, an even softer smile gracing his lips, his affectionate gaze tuning out anyone and anything else that isn’t you. both framed and pinned to the wall are multiple candids you two took of one another when the other wasn’t looking or paying attention, bursts of love immortalized in random moments of time.
you tell yourself that the sniffle you do is just because of the dust.
clearing your throat slightly, you look around proudly. you’re done!
you spray each room with a cotton spray, inhaling the fresh linen scent happily. you light up a teakwood candle that suguru bought a few weeks ago in the living room and put a sandalwood diffuser in the bathroom, freshening up the place. you take a well-deserved shower, feeling properly clean and accomplished.
by the time you’re done, it’s around 5:30 P.M in the evening and satoru texts you that they’re on their way and will be back home in approximately 30 minutes.
you get a can of sprite, his preferred soda, out from the fridge and put it on the counter. you decide to place an order for takeout from suguru’s favorite local spot, one that sells cold zaru soba noodles, his favorite food. you place another order at his favorite bakery for matcha crepes, his most loved dessert. the zaru soba will come within an hour and a half, but the dessert will come sooner so you also order a flower delivery too — a cute little surprise which will come within the same amount of time as the crepes.
you figure that you’ll also do the same for satoru, a little thank-you present for when he comes back to his own apartment. you order a bouquet of narcissus & holly for him, internally hoping that he likes it. you also order all of his favorite desserts from his favorite bakery! knowing that he will happily fill himself up on raspberry macarons, strawberry cake, vanilla mochi, chocolate donuts, & zunda cream kikufuku to his heart’s desire.
walking back into the bathroom, you get the most important part of your night started.
suguru finds his heart a bit lighter when he comes back to your shared home. he didn’t want to admit it to satoru… but he actually had a fun time eating, shopping, and listening to his hilarious stories about his shitty business trip. he’d be lying though if he said that he wasn’t most excited to see you after a long, eventful day.
in his hand are a bunch of shopping bags from stores that satoru dragged him to — clothes from your favorite stores, accessories & bags that you most wear, shoes that you need, books & knick knacks that you like — all for you. he bought a few for himself of course, but he mainly wanted to spoil you. he can’t help the small smile that creeps up on his face when he thinks about how excited you’ll be to see the gifts he got you.
thinking back on it, the guilt and shame he felt in his heart when you first saw him earlier today ate him up. he didn’t even know why he was feeling the way he was feeling so strongly. it was coincidence that it coincided with your trip, and he made sure that he would sound fun and happy over text as to not worry you. it wasn’t until a few days from when you were actually set to arrive that he didn’t even have the energy to talk or text you.
hell, he didn’t even have the energy to keep the apartment tidy or keep himself in check either. another pang of guilt hits him like a freight truck. he concludes that he’ll give you a spa day so he can clean everything up, not wanting you to worry about the mess he made.
he knows from the bottom of his heart that you’d never judge him or make him feel small for feeling the way he felt, he just feels so bad that he couldn’t even muster up the energy to greet you the way you deserved to be greeted. to kiss you. to hug you. to have a delicious dinner together and snuggle with you.
but no. after a long trip you had to come home and be worried for him. have the apartment be in disarray, have to see him be in disarray. fuck, you were worried enough to call up satoru.
he swears to himself that he’s gonna make it up to you. he swears that–
oh?
what?
suguru’s eyes widen, hands weakly dropping his shopping bags on the floor.
the entire apartment, top to bottom, is spotless.
dishes done and put away. dining table clean. living room tidy. is that… a bouquet of daffodils, his birth flower, on the counter? he also sees the bag from his favorite bakery right next to it too…
he walks around, astonished, at how you’ve made the apartment look brand new.
he reaches the bedroom and sees that the bed is made. his clothes have been clean, dried, and put up in hangers inside his closet. the nightstand, dresser, and bookcase all spotless and wiped free of dust.
a fresh smell envelopes his sinuses. he swallows the lump in his throat. did you smell the single cigarette he smoked? it seems like you aired out the whole apartment. in front of him is a beautiful sunset that waves at him from outside. a sunray beam kisses his cheeks. suguru blinks and feels something wet trailing down his face… it tastes salty on his lips. but feels so warm and sweet.
“suguru?” your angelic voice calls to him.
he turns around and sees you. fresh and clean, a beacon of warmth and illumination. a light blush dusting your cheeks no doubt from all of the hard work you’ve done.
“i ran you a bath. you up for it?” you tilt your head cutely at him, a silent plea in your eyes for him to agree.
feeling like his voice will betray him if he speaks, he nods softly. grabbing his hand, you take him to your shared bathroom, also totally spotless. your hands are soft and small in his, warm for once, because of you taking a hot shower and checking the temperature of the water for suguru’s bath. a sandalwood scent envelopes his nose, no doubt from the diffuser you put inside. he sees the romantic candles and rose petals around the bathtub and he can’t help the smile that overtakes his face.
“for me?” he rasps, a teasing tilt to his voice.
“always. everything and anything i do will always be for you.” you say it seriously. genuinely.
to you, it’s a vow. an oath.
his eyes widen slightly, but he closes them momentarily, not wanting any more tears to spill. he crinkles his eyes and smiles at you softly.
“you joining me?” he undresses, taking off his sweatshirt and t-shirt. showcasing his tan skin, toned abs, & muscles. his nipple piercings & belly button piercing are on full display and he giggles lightly as you ogle at his body, watching your eyes trace his numerous tattoos & piercings, absolutely mesmerized.
“maybe next time,” you smirk, a playful twinkle in your eyes. “figured i could do a little pamper session, is that alright with you?” you ask him caringly, wanting to make sure that he’s comfortable with it first & foremost.
he fears that if he speaks any louder than a whisper, the love that overcomes him will drown his airways. he rasps out a small, “yeah.”
always. anything and everything you do will always be right for me.
he gets into the bath and you try to not let your eyes trail down, instead focusing your gaze on his dragon tattoo that encompasses his entire back along with the mythological japanese creatures that trail up his arms and ribcage like tapestry. you see one of your favorites, a black and white beta fish upon his ribs, submerged underneath the water he’s in.
from this angle, you can also see your name that he tattooed behind his ear. smiling to yourself, you sit behind him, ready to begin the pamper session.
his sloshes the rose petals around with his fingers. the water is warm, is his first thought. i wish you were in here with me, is his second.
your fingers stroke his hair softly, lulling him into a false sense of security, and then you get to work, vigorously rubbing in his lavender shampoo. he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. for some reason anytime you two would take baths or take showers together, you would always wash his scalp aggressively. “this is how i wash my hair sugu! what’s a little run through gonna do? we gotta keep clean!” did clean mean damn near ripping out his hair follicles? possibly.
he’d never stop you or scold you however, he thinks it’s hilarious and an endearing trait of yours. when he washes your hair he makes sure to be as soft and careful as possible, almost lulling you to sleep. when you wash his hair however, it’s like you’re turbowashing a pickup truck. he figures this time he’ll give you a pass (he always does) considering that he doesn’t think he’s washed his hair in around a week and a half.
“gonna rinse now, okay?” he hums quietly, closing his eyes.
this almost feels like a purification process to him.
you lather shampoo in his hair once again wanting to do a double cleanse, this time a bit more softly. you massage his scalp, and he tips his head back. you start from the crown of his head, working in circular motions, using your fingertips. then you go to the roots of his hair, pressing and lathering, pressing and lathering, pressing and lathering.
you push his head forward slightly so you can clean the back of his head too, massaging the pressure points in his scalp. you were always a good masseuse, therefore a deep sigh escapes him, tension leaving his body by the second. (this might be the first time in two weeks where he’s been able to breathe comfortably.) you run your fingers throughout the clean strands of his hair, humming a little tune to yourself.
“they called me.” your hands still for second, but resume back to carefully twisting the water out his silky black hair. you stay quiet, knowing that when suguru speaks he prefers to get it all out there first.
“must’ve been like, what, two days after you left?” a humorless laugh escapes him. “they always know when to fuck up my mood. i swear.”
he sighs tiredly. “they went on a whole spiel about how i need to come back home and find a ‘real job’ as a hotshot lawyer or some fancy businessman, as if i don’t run my own tattoo parlor. as if i’m not also a real fucking businessman. like, do they think i don’t make any money? that i can’t comfortably take care of us both?” he rolls his eyes, getting annoyed again just thinking about how long the same repeated conversation had gone on.
suguru’s family is relatively well-off. he’s genuinely thankful that both him & satoru never had to worry about how to put food on the table or be worried about not being able to spoil the people that they loved.
it’s just that his parents were angry that their picture-perfect little boy wanted to spread his wings… see a world that had more to offer than quiet dinner table meals filled with tension and pointed jabs at one another guised as “caring advice.”
their image of suguru started to get distorted when he first showed up on their doorstep with his gauges. an act of rebellion. he could’ve worn small simple diamond studs but he wanted to make an impression: i’m my own person. even as a 13 year old boy, i can make this decision on my own. he remembers the way his father said he looked foolish. how his mother held her hand over her heart, in shock that her little baby boy had tainted himself in such a manner. what would others say?
suguru remembers looking in the mirror after the whole fiasco & thinking: god… they’d say i look so fucking cool.
then it started with sneaking out to go on late night drives with satoru, shoko, nanami, & haibara. they’d jam out to random songs on the radio, get slurpees & snacks, and sit in satoru’s car just talking about life and their future for hours. suguru still remembers the way his bangs wisped across his face, the crisp night air purifying his soul, the stars in the sky illuminating the landscape. the world seemed bigger those days and the gang were enjoying their teenage years. enjoying their youth.
he remembers coming home, his father waiting for him on the couch, pointing to the seat next to him, forcing suguru to sit down. his father’s arms crossed, black turtleneck making his muscles bulge slightly out of his sweater, his specs on the bridge of his nose making him look so serious. suguru found it easy to make eye contact with everyone in the world, but with his father he couldn’t help but look away sometimes… so he redirected his gaze to the tiny delicate beauty mark near his fathers right eye. a small little thing that made his father look a bit more… prettier. nicer. less daunting.
“where were you?” the timbre of his father’s voice rattled his bones. he muttered those three words quietly, but it still shattered suguru’s eardrums regardless.
“out. with my friends.”
he scoffs. “some friends they are.” a deep resounding ring of utter disappointment comes from his father’s words.
suguru sneers at the man, pissed that he would even think to disrespect suguru’s choice of friends like that. “yeah, they’re the best.” not an ounce of sarcasm lacing his words. his own mood dampened, nevertheless.
he recalls stomping all the way upstairs and slamming the door with all his might. sitting on his bed and resting his head against the window pane, eyes looking up at the same stars he saw when hanging out with his friends.
the stars seemed so far away from suguru’s room.
the world looked so big. suguru felt so small.
then one day, months later, suguru kissed a pretty boy. he can’t quite remember his name anymore, just that his lips were soft and his eyes were kind. suguru’s parents found out. his dad was surprisingly fine with it… he just assumed it was a phase, he went through the same thing as his son did when he was his age. his mother however… she just acted like it never happened the next morning. as if it wasn’t just a part of who he is.
his parents thought he was rebelling for the sake of rebellion. in actuality, it was suguru’s true self coming out. he was just getting more comfortable in his own skin. he was tired of being the picture perfect beauty who always was demanded of being polite, poised, & graceful. it was always too easy for him to put on a fake smile and manipulate others into doing what he wanted for the sake of his family’s reputation, it’s what he was taught. being at that house, it felt like he was kept on a tight leash, restricted from living his life. he felt caged like a bird…
but he just wanted to be free.
all he wanted was to just truly be himself in this world.
a kiss against his scalp breaks him out of his reverie.
right… he was here with you. he doesn’t have to spiral or worry anymore. you’re here. with him.
you’re here, you’re here, you’re here.
he shudders softly, taking your hand, holding it tight within his grasp. anger laces his next words, “they also said it’s time i get into a ‘real relationship’. whatever the fuck that means.”
you giggle. you know that his parents aren’t too fond of you. you’re not exactly of the same… class or status as them. at least that’s what suguru’s mother told him.
he huffs out a single dry laugh, “i’m glad you’re giggling about it because i nearly popped a fucking blood vessel screaming into my phone when they said that shit.”
“my protector.” you coo to him.
a light blush tinges his cheeks. always.
he presses a kiss against your palm. “i think it just made me… spiral a bit, y’know? reminded me of when i was kid and they made every little decision for me. i mean i’m a fucking adult now — i can decide what i do, who i wanna be, and who i want to be with.”
so when he got that phone-call from them on that day he was supposed to go to some rock concert… he did the one thing he promised himself he’d never do again. he lit a cigarette, and cried his eyes out into his pillow.
while sobbing, he remembered when he was in his early twenties and he’d sleep around with anyone and everyone, smoke blunts & cigarettes, go bar-hopping… do everything the picture-perfect pretty boy would never be allowed to do under his parents roof. his family just made him so miserable that he would do anything to not think of them.
he heard your voice in his head, reminding him, that instead of continuing on that self-destructive streak, he got his shit together. art & drawing was always his safe haven, so he found himself an apprenticeship at a tattoo parlor, getting a job as a piercer and ultimately working his way up to being a tattooist. he owns his own place now — all his hard work & effort paid off.
his mind travels back to you. his true love.
ever since the moment he met you, he was mesmerized by your beauty, your personality, and your loving words & actions.
suguru’s heart and sobs only calmed down when he thought of you. his beloved. his angel. his reason to be. he hugged your pillow a bit tighter that night, imagining it was you.
“i’m proud of you, you know.” you say it so genuinely that it tugs on his heartstrings, making his heart skip a beat.
“you’ve been through a lot of shit with your parents, but at the end of the day, you chose to follow what your heart desired — not whatever they wanted. you’re successful in what you do and you made the right decision. it doesn’t matter what the hell they say, because they don’t know the effort and time it took you to get where you are.” you say it so passionately, that suguru believes every word that comes out of your mouth. his heart racing, thankful that somebody fucking understands him.
“you’re kind. you’re caring. you’re so unbelievably loving. you’re always looking out for others and helping anyone that needs it… you’re a good fucking person, suguru. i hope you know that and realize that. it doesn’t matter what anyone else says, you are good. what you do is good. who you are is good. it’s an honor to be able to love you and be with you. i hope you know that.”
for the first time in a while, suguru turns around and really looks at you. the way you bare your soul to him so effortlessly, the way you smile so sweetly at him, the way you make him feel like he’s your one true love.
“i’m so thankful for you. i love you… and i want to be with you, too. always.” his voice breaks a little, overcome with emotion.
suguru hugs you tightly, neither of you caring about the wetness on your clothes. suguru puts his entire spectrum of feelings towards you into the hug — an apology, a thank you, and a proclamation of love.
voice a bit shaky, he laughs, “sorry for getting you all wet. i know how much you hate drenched clothes.”
“you apologizing for getting me wet? now that’s a first.” you purr playfully, glad to see him in better spirits.
a loud laugh bellows out from suguru, deep within his gut. he kisses your lips preciously, and sits back down in the water, urging you to continue.
the mood now is far lighter. the air thick with a sweet steam.
you rinse his hair and gently put his lavender conditioner through his hair. massaging it in, running your fingers through his silky smooth strands. you put his hair up in a clip for a few minutes to let the product soak in. he washes it out himself while you start the shower, making sure you put in his favorite honey-almond bodywash. he gives you a silly yet oddly sultry show when he lathers himself and he promptly comes out, steaming and refreshed. you help him do his skincare routine, softly rubbing each and every product into his skin. he towels off and sits down, hairbrush in his hand, looking at you.
“here, let’s do this first.” you blow dry his hair, taking your time and allowing suguru to lull his head back onto your front, the soft black tresses of your beloved’s hair feeling much more revitalized in your fingers. you then brush his hair, gently, carefully. the entire time, you notice that suguru’s eyes are closed and he’s smiling to himself. you kiss him on the top of his head, and he turns to kiss you back. eyes closed, his lips puckered…
but just then, the doorbell rings.
“OOH! perfect timing!” you scurry off. you leave a pouting suguru who huffs out a little “hmph.” annoyed that whoever was at the door took a very well-deserved kiss away from him.
he patters softly to the kitchen where you’re setting out cold zaru soba noodles for him along with a can of sprite and matcha crepes. all of his favorites.
you hold a bouquet of flowers. daffodils.
“for you.” you curtsy, a mirthful twinkle in your eyes. he graciously accepts them from you, a shy smile and light flush across his cheeks.
“thank you.”
kissing his knuckles you whisper, “anything for you.”
for once in his whole entire life, suguru doesn’t think he can bear to look you in the eye. your adoration is so unbelievably intense, it feels like it’ll burn a hole inside his heart. does he deserve so much goodness in his life?
“you deserve more than what i can give you. i’ll spend my whole life making sure you realize that, suguru.” you say to him honestly. “if you’ll allow me of course.”
he kisses you on the lips softly, hoping that you can feel how thankful and lucky he is that he has you. “likewise.”
he clears his throat. “okay, c’mon. i’m starving. i wanna watch that stupid anime and shit talk that hot guy you like on screen while we snuggle.”
“he’s the best character, suguru!” you huff indignantly. clearly he can’t be talking about thee toji fushiguro???
“babe. he SUCKS.”
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he knows you so well, he muses to himself.
he knows how your breath hitches after he nuzzles his lips against the curve of your neck, that the skin is sensitive there, but not as sensitive as your right ear. he knows that because of the way your knees buckle as he whispers soft romances to you, intense shivers overtaking your body. he makes sure that his arm is always wrapped tender yet firmly around your waist when that happens, trapping you against his unyielding body.
he knows what makes you tick. on the rare occasion that you allow your emotions to overcome you, he knows how to comfort you. he leaves you alone for a few moments so you’re able to gather your thoughts & assess your bearings, and then he invites you into his warm embrace. he lets you lay your head in his lap as he strokes your hair gingerly, easing your soul with both honest and kind words. adorning your face with soft kisses and even softer caresses. a cocoon of protection.
it seems like these days, however, he hasn’t had a proper grasp on you. you can’t hide a single thing from him, he knows that you would never willingly do so either.
it’s not like you want to anyways — not that you intend to, at least.
but it’s an aching feeling in his chest, nonetheless.
earlier in the week, you’d softly shut your bedroom door whenever you saw him, pretending as if you couldn’t see each other… as if he wasn’t there. it’s moments where he found you haphazardly digging for shit in your drawers, tucking whatever it was into your pockets and padding away softly to your room. you’d stay in there for hours, only coming out when he knocked on your door to tell you dinner was ready. he heard lots of rustling and you pretended as if you were just chilling in there, as if nothing was going on. sometimes when he knocked on your door to see what you were up to, all he heard back was an “i’m busy, baby! i’ll be out soon!” then it became even more odd, you’d quickly shut off your phone whenever he came into the room and would plaster a bright smile at him as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
he sighs to himself. he trusts you. he loves you. he knows you’re not doing anything heinous.
but… why won’t you tell him what’s bothering you? don’t you trust him to fix whatever is wrong? it eats away at his mind & soul that you think you have to hide whatever it is that’s taking you from him. don’t you know that he’d drop anything for you? that’s what being in love is for, right?
his eyes peer at you from the couch, studying you. he calls out to you softly, “angel. can we talk, please?”
a statement posed as a question. he knows this. you know this. you answer regardless.
“sure.”
you walk towards him, intentionally adding a lackadaisical swagger to your steps. to fool him. you know it won’t, he knows it won’t. but suguru isn’t anything if a man who doesn’t indulge his beloved.
he pats the seat next to him on the couch. inviting. as if he’s giving you a choice, even though you know you have none at the moment. “sit next to me, my love.” his smile is taut like a string, amber eyes shut closed so you don’t bear witness to the tears that threaten to spill.
he knows you’re hiding something.
he doesn’t like not being in the know.
is it something he did?
is it something you did but are too afraid to tell him?
since when were you afraid of him?
were you always–?
in the few seconds it takes you to sit down, a myriad of questions race through suguru’s head, creating a spiral of untamable negative thoughts. you would talk to him if something was wrong, right? you both have a healthy communication and always talk things over with each other… so what’s different now? do you not trust him?
suguru chastises himself, thoroughly.
of course you wouldn’t want to speak to someone like him.
always the overthinker. always the nagging negative nancy. always the manic-depressive.
sometimes suguru fears that he acts more like a father to you rather than a boyfriend.
that he’s a bit suffocating. too intense. very overbearing.
a warm hand engulfs both of your small, cold ones. he hopes that it comes off as sweet, as caring. because he himself is sweet and caring.
at least he hopes he comes off like that.
“is everything alright, sweetheart?” a soft whisper. he speaks placatingly to you like you’re a newborn fawn and any loud noises or large movements will make you jolt and run away. “i feel like… you’ve been avoiding me recently. and…” he takes a deep breath. “listen, i don’t know if it’s something i did, but you need to tell me, okay? you have to tell me so i can make it better.”
he thinks he sounds nurturing. kind. paternal.
he also thinks he sounds so fucking condescending.
he closes his eyes and a picture of a man darts across his eyelids like an overdeveloped photo.
strict, heavy-handed, cutthroat.
paternal and protective to a fault. a man who was always “right” even when he was wrong.
an “apathetic” man who bore a child who thought too much – felt too much.
a flash of a sophisticatedly handsome man with obsidian shoulder length hair, serious low-lidded eyes, and a firm closed mouth sears itself across suguru’s brain like a charred photograph.
he flings away the afterimage as quickly as it came. pretending as if he never even thought of it.
he gulps, swallowing the fireball in his throat. god, he really doesn’t want to be like… him. having a majority of his features is enough, he does not want to inherit that man’s personality.
suguru absentmindedly rubs the slit in his eyebrow, his grip unintentionally tightening on your hands. he releases moments after, not wanting to cause you any pain.
“everything is fine with me sugu, i promise you.” you reassure him. “it wasn’t my intention to avoid you or make you feel like you did anything wrong… i am so sorry if it came off like that.” you answer him honestly. your head is tilted to the side like a little puppy, brows furrowed, upset that you made him feel like you were trying to get away from him.
“no, no no no no no, baby it’s not your fault.” he quickly grabs your cheeks, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. he brings you against his chest, hugging you tightly. “don’t apologize honey, i’m sorry… i just got into my head a bit.” he quickly placates you and kisses the top of your head. you shouldn’t be the one to suffer because he started to anxiously overthink and spiral.
he looks at the time on his watch. it’s a few minutes past midnight. you both should go to sleep… maybe you can talk it over in bed or in the morning with clear heads.
you exhale softly, shaking your head faintly. you press a delicate kiss against the corner of his lips. telling him, “give me a sec.”, you walk over and into your room.
he nods and watches you saunter away, putting his head into his hands. god… him and his big mouth… he sighs, anxiety crawling up his throat once more. he really didn’t want to upset you or anything, he angrily tells himself to apologize to you when you get back.
hearing you shuffle closer to him, he lifts his head.
in your hands is a… huge book?
“i wanted to give you this tomorrow… well technically today, but i guess it doesn’t really matter.”
he tilts his head, confused. you present him with the thing you’ve been working so hard on.
you smile at him so softly, he thinks that his heart is about to burst. “happy birthday, suguru.”
birthday…? oh god, it is his birthday.
he gently takes the present from you… it’s a scrapbook.
“don’t look at it in front of me! okay, bye!” you quickly sprint into your room, not wanting to be in the room when suguru looks at such a personalized present.
blinking, he grabs his reading glasses from the coffee table, and opens the book, flipping through each page carefully.
photobooth pictures, polaroids, kodak film pictures, movie tickets from your dates, admission tickets from amusement parks he’s taken you to, and multiple candids of both him and you - many of which he hasn’t seen.
one of them looks awfully familiar… did you take this the day you took him stargazing in the meadow? his fingers brush against his trembling lips, trying to stop himself from sobbing.
is this what you were doing?
he feels so stupid.
but god… does he feel so fucking loved.
you’ve immortalized every single moment of your relationship with him. nothing being too small for you to be excited about, carefully keeping everything.
he sees the little pressed flower of a daffodil enclosed in wax paper on one of the pages, probably from the first time you gave him a bouquet. the first time anyone has presented him with flowers without wanting anything in return. when asked about the occasion, you simply shrugged and said “just felt like it” & then quickly kissed his knuckles, zooming out of his apartment to run errands. he remembers how bashful he felt. how thankful he was. how loved that experience made him feel.
he moves his glasses upwards, wiping the tears across his lashline and the ones that stream down his face. he clears his throat slightly, and continues flipping the pages. you’ve drawn little doodles (things that he’s already planning to get tattooed on him simply because they came from you) and you’ve written beautiful, personal messages. encapsulating your adoration for suguru in the margins — genuine words filled with your love, devotion, and admiration for him.
he sniffs loudly and tries to wipe his face the best he can. he tenderly calls out your name, beckoning you over to him, and you get up out of your shared bedroom to pad softly into his open arms.
“my love.” he stands up and walks over to you midway. he hugs you so tightly while pressing your head against his beating heart, his arms protectively enveloping you. the space between you two is nonexistent, and suguru surmises that he wouldn’t have it any other way.
conveying his thankfulness and love to you, he sweetly says, “my sweet, sweet girl.” a soft kiss pressed against your hair, “my heart beats for you, forever and always.” from anyone else it’d sound cheesy, but from suguru… you know he means it from the depths of his soul.
“my little dove.” he coos so fondly, sweet candied sugar dripping from every syllable. he holds your face in his gentle hands, openly divulging his admiration for you, “you’re so precious to me, you know that? i love you. i love you. i love you.” a tender kiss pressed against your soft lips between each proclamation of adoration.
you smile graciously, thankful and relieved that he adores your present and that he especially adores you. you knew out of any of your presents that you were going to give him today, that this would be the most meaningful. suguru has always been the ultimate sentimentalist, and you wanted him to know that you care for him so deeply. that you love him. adore him. that your heart beats only for him. pushing back a black tendril of your true love’s hair behind his ear, you kiss him gently. both of your lips fitting together perfectly — like a lock & key.
you bring his knuckles upon your lips, preciously kissing his promise ring, ensuring to him that your love and devotion runs deep, deeper than anything in this world.
“i love you too. happy birthday, my love.” his hands are so gentle. his face is so sweet. suguru… your one true love.
if you asked suguru to describe you in three words, he’d say you were: devoted. loyal. loving.
he has four more of his own on the tip of his tongue that he’ll ask to you when he musters up the courage.
with a soft kiss upon the ring on your knuckles, and an even softer smile upon his lips, he lovingly breathes out, “私はあなたを永遠に愛します”
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my lord of autism
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 4 months
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♡ chronicle #3 : going home ♡
fem reader pronouns mentioned in this one !
wc : 7210
bakugou has been acting different after your conversation at work.
it's not like he's gotten any less annoying, far from it. but he's been a bit more...bearable lately.
sure, he still steals your food and nips at you when you pull it away from him. but he's started 'begrudingly" sharing his portion with you, to keep it fair. whether it be an energy bar from your pantry or the dinner he insisted he'd make for himself but ended up conveniently making enough for the two of you.
he's also way more touchy, almost on the brink of clingy. he follows you around your apartment whenever you leave the living room like an angry puppy with rabies, but then denies he is. "you were just headed the same way i was." was his favorite excuse.
you had caught on quickly when he simply stood by the door and watched you fold laundry, then growling about how you took to long before taking half of your clothes and neatly folding them like his life depended on it. perhaps he was simply a clinger. you don't mind much, you get your laundry done faster with him here.
he's started sitting closer to you on the couch. slowly, subtly at first, but now he doesn't feel the need to be subtle anymore it seems. he can't be when you're practically sitting shoulder to shoulder. you don't mind much, he's warm.
you've slowly started petting his head more and more often. you don't really remember why you did before, but he didn't seem to mind it the first time, so you figured you were in the clear to do it again. he jumped after you'd first done it again while you were watching the notebook, but he didn't say anything. you didn't either so as not to get your head chewed off. you saw in the corner of your eye how he leaned his head a little more towards you, and how he turned red from the tips of his ears all the way down to his neck.
since you'd come to find out he liked getting praised, you'd start implementing the act of affection here and there and now he expects you to do it every time. it was hard to understand what he wanted at first since apparently him being a powerful and mighty dragon made him unable to use his words correctly. he'd just stare at you, fiery red eyes locked onto your face and a small barely there pout forming on his face. you'd learned to do it every time since then, otherwise he'd get cranky. you don't mind much, his hair feels really nice.
he still hasn't called you by your fucking name though, but you're desensitized by now.
it's been about an hour since you'd gotten back from work. you're watching a movie you chose, which ended up being lady and the tramp. bakugou complained at first before quickly getting absorbed into the movie. you find it frankly hilarious that the big, serious and scary dragon man enjoys watching disney movies but you digress, it was a good movie.
you can hear the microwave's low hum and you're already salivating at the smell from the leftover dinner bakugou had made yesterday. you're a little, just a smidge jealous of his cooking skills, sure. but you will not miss the opportunity to eat his food up, you've learned to suck up your pride and live with his stupidly handsome cocky smirk as you practically devour his food.
you've gotten to the famous spaghetthi scene and you're curious to see how the dragon man reacts to it. you feel smugness pooling in your chest when you see him trying to hold back a cheesy smile. you really can't blame him, there's a smile forming on your face unconsciously, this scene is really fucking cute.
"i love this scene, it's so cute" you sigh dreamingly "if only human relationships were that easy" you lament, resting your head in the palm of your hand.
bakugou, who's sitting right next to you on the couch, scoffs to himself "you humans and your stupid mating rituals. i don't know why you make things so difficult for yourselves."
"you can't just assume all humans are like what you see in drama's. most humans aren't like that" you deadpan. he pokes at your ribs and chuckles when you jolt and glare at him, just as annoying alright.
"of course i know that, shitty human" he says, shuffling around on the couch to get more comfortable, his arm brushes against yours when he throws it back around the couch for a moment and you hate how easily it makes you shiver. " but those drama's are somewhat cemented in reality, aren't they ? so it's stupid."
you roll your eyes, but you can't really disagree. humans did seem to make things complicated for themselves.
but suddenly, you're curious.
"well, how do dragons.." you fumble around with your hands looking for the right word "..date, then ?" you ask. bakugou rolls his eyes at you "we don't date." he copies in a pitchy voice, you tug at his horn and he growls, snapping at you.
"what do you do then ?" you groan as you dodge him, he knocks his head against yours and headbutts you. he's such a sore loser.
"we mate." he huffs "mate ?" you ask curiously and he nods, looking towards the tv, grunting in acknowledgement. "s'like—what you humans call marriage" he mumbles, his voice and eye contact trailing off.
"oh, okay.." you hum, nodding "so, how do you break up ?"
"we don't. there's no need."
you tilt your head at him, silently asking for more info. he sighs like he's irritated but really it's because you're staring up at him so curiously. you're eyes are big and bright and so annoyingly pretty. and your scent's way too fucking strong, it makes him want to hold you and keep you close to him, away from dragons and humans and everything else.
" everyone has a soulmate." he starts, absentmindedly prodding at the material of your couch "wether you find them at birth or at the end of your lifespan, you have one."
"you're soulmates the one that was made for you. there's an old legend you and your soulmate are stars seperated by the gods and you're looking for each other reflexively—or something" he adds, seemingly uninterested, but he can feel his skin heating up after every word "they understand you on a level no one else can, and whenever you're with them.." he cuts himself off and suddenly looks down at you. you blink up at him, surprised, but you don't move an inch. it feels like you've gotten closer somehow. something in the air has changed.
"it" he gulps "it feels right."
katsuki has understood why he feels the way he does around you for a while now. he thinks he's always had somewhat of a hunch when he'd first blasted into your apartment and hadn't killed you the moment you'd raised your voice at him. but he knew for sure when you'd had your..moment at your office.
katsuki's convinced himself he doesn't have time for soulmates, he doesn't need one. no matter how hard his old hag had tried to force encourage him to find his. he simply couldn't find it in himself to care.
and yet, now that he's met you, it's so, so different. he wants you. he wants you more then he's ever wanted anything before. he needs you more than all the gold and every treasure he could lay his eyes on. he can't hand you over to anyone else now that he's met you and he wants to be bothered, especially because you're human. something he's been taught to look down on ever since he was a cub. and yet here he is, clinging to you like a puppy. cooking for you, helping you with your stupid human chores and groceries and he listens to you when you ask him something, although begrudgingly.
and katsuki wants to hate it, he wants to hate the way you make him feel, wants to hate how mushy and soft you make him, he wants to hate you. but he can't. can't hate the way you make him feel and he can't hate you because when he's with you he feels so good. he wants more, more of this feeling, more of you.
dragons are greedy creatures after all.
you're lips suddenly feel very dry as he looks at you and you look at him. his piercing gaze makes you forget you were supposed to respond to what he said.
"o-oh, that's really..romantic" you breathe out. he huffs and he's so much closer now because you feel the air hit your face when he does "s'corny if you ask me" he says evenly, gaze focused on you.
"i did ask you" you quip, but there's no smirk on your face when you do, your heart starts beating a little faster "you seem to know a lot for someone who thinks it's corny" you try to lighten to mood, booping his nose and you watch his face scrunch up, huffing out a laugh when he bops his forehead to yours somewhat harshly again, but not enough to hurt.
" my folks told me about it. and it's a common tale back where i'm from, everyone knows about it."
and that clears your head a little bit. his parents. the place where he comes from.
you'd been too scared to ask him anything after things turned awkward a few weeks ago. it wasn't that bad, but bad enough to scare you off from asking again. you suck in a breath, sucking up your confidence with it.
"where—" you start "where are you from anyway, bakugou?" your voice is soft, meek as you ask. it's so low you could barely hear yourself but you did, and so did he. his eyes narrow the slightest bit and you have to steel your nerves to stop from flinching. he leans his head away, just slightly, like he can't force himself to go any further "why'd you wanna know ?" he asks, and unreadable expression on his face.
you shrug "i wanna know more about you." you reply. he squints at you somewhere, then closes his eyes and sighs.
"my people are from a place called yuuei. it's a great kingdom" he huffs, clearly proud.
you nod "then..why'd you leave ?" you probably should've been more careful with your wording, but you found you don't find bakugou as menacing as you used to when he first arrived. you don't know if that's a good thing or not.
his eyebrows furrow as he looks down at the couch, you don't want to upset him and you're about to tell me he doesn't have to divulge any personal information when he speaks again.
"i'm...pretty important over there.” he mumbled "it's—it doesn't matter anymore. i'll probably be replaced."
"what ? what does that mean ?" all he does is furrow his eyebrows more, clenching his fists. as if it were a reflex, you reach up and run your fingers through his soft blonde hair. his closes his eyes the moment your hand makes contact with his head, you hear a happy little chuff come from him as you scratch a specific spot he rlly likes right below his nape.
"in my kingdom, you have to do this sort of..duel, it's for power an' stuff.." he replies after a bit , his eyes still closed but the pinch in his brows returns the more he speaks "i was supposed to win. i was gonna win, but i—" a heavy scowl is present on his face and you could tell it was something hard to talk about for him. you're so focused you don't notice your movements have slowed down, but bakugou has. he nudges his head against your hand and grunts. you offer him a little mumbled out "sorry" and continue to abide to his wordless demand. it's endearing as much as it's bratty, but you don't mind much.
"that fuckin' bastard played dirty..and i lost. th't's how i got here" he groused. your eyes widen in shock, completely stopping your movements in his hair despite the groans of complaint you hear from him. "how far away is yuuei ?!"
"far" he chuckles humorlessly "very far. but i've sparred with him before, he couldn't have gotten so strong so fast. must've gotten somethin' from a witch or whatever.”
"you got blasted all the way here ?!" you squeaked, cringing at the pain he must've felt. with the state he'd appeared at..your wall, it was honestly amazing he had healed so much that fast. dragons really are something else, you thought.
he scoffs, shoving his head against your hand as if to punish you for rubbing salt in his still very open wound. "s'not that big of a deal" he stops himself for a second "i'm gettin' better aren't i, doc ?" he jests. you roll your eyes, a small smile appearing onto your face. he had been healing pretty well from what you'd seen.
"i can give you that" you sigh. bakugou gives you a once over than raises and eyebrow "well, did i satisfy your curiosity, human ?" he goads sarcastically, you fight the urge to roll your eyes again because you feel they'll get stuck to the back of your head with how hard you'd be rolling them. instead you offer him a tiny giggle, you miss how his tail raises upwards the slightest bit.
you hum pensively, and he rolls his eyes at you this time, you laugh. "yeah, i think i'm satisfied for now" you smirk, returning to your activities of messing around with his wheat colored strands of hair, making it messier and spikier than it already was.
"for now ?" he asks amusedly. but there's a subtle hint of genuine vulnerablity in his eyes that you can somehow see so clearly, you're still a little shocked about how easy this literal other wordly, mythical being was to read. or maybe bakugou was just very obvious. or maybe it's because you feel like you've known him you're entire life when you look him in the eyes for too long.
"mhm" you hum, smiling softly at him, your hand trails lower to the hairs at the nape of his neck, you get goosebumps when you hear his low growl in response to your touch "for now" you whisper. a beat passes.
suddenly, you're pressed down on the couch and bakugou's on top of you.
it happened before you could even process it. before you could even blink he was staring down at you, hands on either sides of your head and so close that you could feel his breath every time he inhaled and exhaled. there's a low rumble sound that's coming from him, you don't know from where. you can barely hear anything over the sound of your heart beating fast against your ribs.
he's simply staring, and staring and a beat passes. then he huffs, pouting to himself.
"you piss me the hell off, you know." he mutters
"wh-wha?! bakugou—" you're not even sure you could've said anything more coherent than this if you tried. your brain's scrambled, your cheeks feel hot and you cannot hear anything but him and your beating heart.
he cuts you off "katsuki." he growls. "it's katsuki. say it." he demands, sounding almost desperate.
"..katsuki" you mumble shyly, testing how the new name he'd given you sounds. it's pretty, you like saying it, you decide. he inhales harshly when he registers his name falling from your pretty lips.
"you—" he speaks " you have no fuckin' idea what you do to me, do you." he asks but he doesn't give you a chance to answer as he continues "'f course ya don't." he smirks, leaning in more so he could bump his nose against yours. your lips part to swipe your tongue over them and you feel your fingers twitch when his eyes flit over to look at the movement for way longer than necesarry before he keeps speaking.
"you, you're probably...nah, definitely the most infuriating human i've ever met." you huff, forgetting the position you're in for a moment before pouting up at him " you're not the most amicable dragon i've met either." you huff petulantly. he chuckles, adjusting a little to lean back just barely and give you that infuriating smirk. "no trust me, i am. any other dragon wouldn't have let ya mouth off like that at them for more than a second"
"so what, i should be thanking you or something ?" you snarked hotly, you go to cross your arms reflexively, but he stops you halfway. holding your arms above your head with one hand. he leans in again and you gasp slightly. his hold on you tightens ever so slightly when you do.
"yeah, you should be actually. coulda blown yer fuckin' head off if i wanted to" he snickers "but that's the thing." he says somewhat seriously "i didn't"
"thanks." you deadpan. he tuts at you, rolling his eyes again "shut up, i wasn't finished. when you mouthed off to me when i first arrived here. you had every fuckin' right to." he admits begrudgingly, looking away from you. your eyes widen in surprise but you stay silent
bakugou sighs above you " as much as i hate to admit it, you saved my life...or whatever. and the first thing i did was threaten you. i haven't met that many humans, but most of 'em were weaklings. wether they talked a big game or not, they should be prepared for what happens when you mess with me and what's mine."
"but you weren't after my treasure, or my scales, or my life. you were after payment for your fuckin' wall" he chortles " i thought that was what caught me off guard about you, so i figured i could at least fix your wall up."
he stops and his smirks melt away when he makes eye contact with you again. "but then ya offered me to stay. and i said yes. and i didn't fuckin' know why i did, but it just felt right to." he admits "i went along with your stupid human reasons that i could honestly give less of a shit about, without even fucking knowing why." he spills, inhaling as he finishes "but now," he swallows, leaning down so his lips make contact with your neck, you gasp in surprise "now i do." he rumbles lowly.
you can barely speak, can barely think straight and yet it's like your body's taking full control "wh-why?" you hear yourself ask. he looks up at you from where he's hidden in your neck and leans up until your lips are a breath away from each other. it startles you, but you don't move.
he looks at your lips then back up at you. red eyes peering at you, asking for permission. you exhale and feel yourself nod just the slightest bit, but just enough for him to get your approval. you want this, you need this. you feel like you'll lose it if you he doesn't—
the sound of the timer makes you both jump.
"oh—shit !" you squeak, surprised at the sudden noise, you look at the tv, and back at him. his face is fully red and he refuses to look at you anymore. it makes your chest hurts a little bit. just as fast as he'd pushed you down onto the couch he's already off you, quickly mumbling "i'll go check it." before dissapearing into the kitchen, you can just barely catch the sound of his retreating footsteps over the sound of your beating heart.
what. just. happened ?
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you don't know how you fell asleep last night but you did somehow, because the next morning you're off from work, it's ten am, and katsuki is gone. he'd left a note in suprisingly neat handwriting saying he had gone out to get groceries for dinner tonight. it was your turn to make dinner today, but you appreciate it nonetheless, despite your heavy, heavy heart.
you hear a knock at your door and you assume it's him, even though you find it odd of him to knock, since you had offered him a spare key. the knocking is insistent and loud. you grumpily stalk up to your door, swinging it open. expecting to be met with an extremely pushy telemarketer but instead you're met with an extremely tall, red haired man.
he had to be a little bit taller than katsuki, from what you can see. his hair spikes up and blends together so well it takes you a moment to notice those front pieces aren't hair, but horns. you look behind him for good measure and notice a long, red tail swaying from side to side like a cat's. he smiles wide, opening his mouth to speak and you're suddenly face first with an insanely sharp set off teeth. those are way sharper than katsuki's, by a long shot.
he's a dragon.
"hey !" he chirps happily. he doesn't seem like that big of a threat, you dare even say friendly. friendlier than your dragon friend that's for sure.
"hi.." you say wearily, tightly clutching onto your door preparing to slam it in his face should he give you a reason to. he seems to realise you're suspicious of him, as he backs up a little bit, raising his hands up in surrender.
"don't worry, i mean you no harm ! honest !" he reassures, looking you up and down. he seems to find something funny because he snorts but tries to hold it in. you look down and realise you're wearing your most ridiculous set of sanrio pyjamas, with cinnamoroll slippers to match.
great. very awesome. just perfect.
you look away from his and he seems to sense you starting to become flustered, (his senses sure are sharp, you'll give him that) lighthearteldly chuckling "i like your...footwear" he jests pointing with his chin towards your feet "very cute."
"did you need anything ?" you mutter, refusing to look at him because you feel like you'd explode from embarrassment. he jumps a little, seeming to remember what he came for and nods " yeah, actually ! i don't know if you'll believe me, but i'm a dragon."
"i can tell." you respond
"ya don't seem to be all the shocked.." he chuckles, looking a little dissapointed. it's kind of cute and you crack a small smile
"let's just say you're not the first dragon i've met." he nods, humming to himself and you can't tell if he actually heard you, let alone understood you.
"well, that makes things a little easier." he says " i'm actually looking for someone, a friend of mine. he's been missing for a little while and i'm looking for him." he explained
you raise and eyebrow in question "and what makes you think he'd be here?" you asked suspicously
"my buddy's real strong, so i could sense his mana output was somewhere around here ! i was gonna go from door to door, but it felt the strongest over here, so i decided to check your residence first !" he beams.
oh wow.
you don't even want to imagine what would've happened if someone had seem him like..that outside of their door. you can just thank the heavens above he came to your door first. nevertheless, he seems harmless. and he's pretty endearing, you're heart can't help but squeeze for him a little bit.
"oh, well—"
"what the fuck are you doing here ?!"
you and your new dragon friend both jump at the booming voice belonging to none other than your blonde dragon roommate, having just returned from doing the groceries. he doesn't look pleased, unlike his friend, who's breaks out into a grin seeing him.
"bakugou, man !" he rushes over to his friend, his tail happily following along. he clasps his hand behind his friends back, said friend doesn't budge and opts to glare from the corner of his eye.
"what the fuck are you doing here, shitty hair ?!" katsuki growls again, hands tightening around the grocery bags. you wince at the harsh nickname but his friend doesn't even flinch, probably already used to your dragon friends potty mouth.
shitty hair (?) simply laughs "what type of question is that ? i came here to get you !" his friend throws an arm around his shoulder and katsuki's jaw tightens.
you can't wipe the look of shock on your face fast enough because katsuki notices it. his eyebrows furrow as he's sure you'd heard what his mysterious companion had said, not that you could miss his frankly loud voice.
a beat passes and katsuki just shakes his head, grumbling at his friends words." i didn't ask you to come for me."
his hold loosens just slightly on the grocery bags in his hands and he sighs, shaking his friends shoulder off and walking past you both into your apartment, you both follow after him.
"c'mon man ! everyone's been worried about you !" kirishima pleads, accidently bumping past you to reach his friend. bakugou insists on ignoring him, stuffing the groceries in the fridge and the pantry "you've been gone for way longer than you usually are when you get mopey, so i just wanted to check up on—"
bakugou throws his friend a pointed glare, the heat of his stare causes his friend to flinch and his tail to drop. bakugou clenches his fists once, then twice and goes back to putting tonight's ingredients away "get lost. i don't need you to check up on me." he all but growls "i'm obviously fine, so tell the others to quit worryin.'"
"as if ! what am i supposed to tell them ? that you're suddenly working for humans ?" his friend seems to remember your existence and turns to you, waving his hands around " a— a nice human, of course !"
as confused as you are, you offer him a small smile "no offense taken." he smiles at you, sharp teeth on display, you miss the way bakugou slams the fridge door a little more harshly than usual. "i'm not workin for them ! as if i'd ever stoop that low, don't fuckin' insult me !"
"w-well what am i supposed to get from...this ?!" his friend gestures towards the now empty grocery bags in katsuki's hands. bakugou rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to respond when you cut in.
"uhm, excuse me ?"
this might be the stupidest decision you've ever made, standing in between two huge men who also happen to be dragons was definetly not something you expected to happen in your lifetime.
"i can tell you have..issues" you trail off "but i would like to get some things straight first, alright ?" you look to both men for answers. your unexpected guest nods obediently while your grouchy friend simply grunts in response, looking away from you. you sigh.
"alright first," you turn to the red haired dragon man " who are you ?" he jumps, rubbing at his nape, suddenly bashful "oh, right ! sorry, how rude of me !" he apologizes to you so easily. he's been suprisingly easy to deal with and you're starting to doubt what bakugou said about other dragons being meaner than him.
"the name's kirishima ! kirishima eijirou ! i'm sorry i didn't introduce myself sooner" you hear bakugou scoff behind you but you choose to ignore it, nodding at kirishima's words. "..alright kirishima, what do you want from bakugou here ?" you ask, nodding your chin behind your back towards your spiky haired roommate.
kirishima nods " bakugou suddenly went missing after an incident happened at our ten-year-tournament. i didn't bother looking for him at first, cuz he likes to be alone when he's brooding." he chuckles nervously "but he didn't show up after a few days and suddenly we realized he had dissapeared. i couldn't just give up on my bro, so i went looking for him." he explains.
"well ya found me, whoop-dee-fuckin'-doo." katsuki deadpans " so now you can fuck off—"
you fix bakugou with a sharp glare, and he clamps his mouth shut in suprise, before grumbling to himself, deciding to kick his shoes off. you sigh, focusing back on kirishima who looks shocked for a reason you don't know, then fixes his gaze on you again and straightens up, you look at him funny but you don't bother asking him about his behavior.
"ten-year- tournament ?"
"yeah !" kirishima bellows like you're a sergeant "it happens every decade between multiple different factions within our kingdom to avoid resorting to an all out war" he explains " we organize a tournament with representatives from every faction to take part in a sort of all out combat tournament !"
" the winning faction is granted a significant advantage and influence. the tournament serves as a means to determine a balance of power and settle disputes peacefully." katsuki adds on from behind you, with kirishima nodding along excitedly.
your jaw practically drops to the floor as you process the information. bakugou looks damn near constipated when you look back at him in shock. he squirms and shuffles around refusing to meet your eye.
bakugou scoffs for the umpteenth time today, shoving his hands in the pockets of the pants he chose out a few weeks ago when you'd went to the mall "...s'not that big of a deal.." he mutters, basically to himself but unfortunately for him both you and kirishima hear him.
"what ?!" you both exclaim, bakugou squints harder, his expression souring. you turn to kirishima and he doesn't need to be asked anything to know you want to know more. he continues nervously, despite having bakugou's glare concentrated on him as if telling him to be quiet.
"basically, bakubro over here fougth against someone from another faction, but it didn't end well."
"fuckin' bastard played dirty.." bakugou snarls behind you.
"right..and this is where we are now" kirishima finishes, sweatdropping.
you nod, eyebrows furrowed. you feel like the puzzle pieces are connecting, but you're somehow just as confused.
"so, what you said about that duel stuff yesterday, and you being replaced—" you turn to bakugou, who finally decides to look at you and it stuns you a bit, you try not to let it show too hard.
"replaced ?!" kirishima repeats "no way, man ! you're our best fighter, there's no way you'd get replaced"
bakugou's eyebrows furrow a bit more in response, his expression bitter as he looks off to the side, you can see the hurt he's trying to mask with anger " 'm obviously not the best if i fuckin' lost.." he chokes out lowly. your heart hurts for him and you want nothing more than to bury your fingers in his hair and have him purr into your touch to make him feel better.
" we all know that yuma guy didn't play fair ! maybe we could have some kinda—re-tournament or something !" kirishima tries encouraging his friend but it's futile as bakugou's jaw tightens again, glaring daggers at his friend, silencing him.
"don't be dumb. there's no way that's ever gonna happen, the elders are gonna see what they wanna see, whatever we have to say doesn't fuckin' matter." he says through his teeth.
" but—"
"enough, kirishima." bakugou snapped "forget it." it's all he utters before walking off to bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
it's so quiet you could hear a pin drop, kirishima and you hold your breath until he let's out a hopeless sigh.
"hooooh, maaann...i messed up bad.." he covers his face with his hands, groaning into them. you walk up to him to rub his arm comfortingly. you don't really know what else to do but try to confort him.
"hey, it's alright just-give him some time to cool off, he gets cranky after being around humans for too long" you chuckle. kirishima offers you a tiny smile, letting out a huff of laughter "well, he doesn't encounter humans long enough to get cranky at them."
you tilt your head in confusion "what do you mean ?" you ask.
"bakubro doesn't like humans, he makes that..really clear" he sweatdrops, his tail swishes slowly. "but i've never seen him take anything from a human before," he looks down at you and flashes you a cute grin "he must really like you !"
your heart skips too many beats.
it pulses like it did yesterday, when he'd been so close. with his breath against your face and his face so close to yours and his lips so close to-
"hey, you okay ? you look a little sick.." you feel something hard against your forehead, then realise it's his pressed against your own "do ya have a fever..?" he mutters almost to himself.
you jump back damn near five meters away from him as you process how close he is. he's way less shy about being physical compared to katsuki, by a long shot.
"i-i'm okay ! no need to worry about me ! m'fine !" he pouts at your response " we must have freaked you out, right ? m'sorry for the outburst." he apologizes, bowing his head a little. maybe it's because he's so nice or you've gotten used to petting dragons, but you place your hand against his spiky hair, rubbing at it softly "it's really not your fault, no need for apologies."
his eyes widen for a fraction of a second then dilate and his tail wags like a puppy's. "okay..f'you say so." he mumbles shyly, his voice now barely a fraction of what is was before " thank you, human.."
you're about to respond when the bathroom door opens and your met with bakugou, who's face morphs from his usual grumpy resting face, to confusion, to being damn near enraged. kirishima's about to talk again, possibly trying to convince his friend to return with him but katsuki marches over before he can even take a breath and proceeds to rip your hand out of kirishima's hair with a growl.
you gasp in surprise, his hand is so warm around your wrist. it makes you feel warm all over. kirishima tries to speak again but is interuppted yet again and if you could think straight you'd feel bad.
"kirishima." katsuki growls lowly, grip still secure around your wrist "come outside with me for a second."
kirishima looks at his friend, then to you and your arm in his grip. then nods, his eyes are a little wide "okay, sure." he says. katsuki grunts in acknowledgement and kirishima walks off ahead, not before offering you a wave and a cheery 'it was nice to meet you human !" you offer him a weak wave in return, still stunned.
before he leaves, katsuki turns to you. he looks down at your hand like he'd forgotten he'd grabbed it. he looks up at you, ears and face reddening, but he doesn't make any move to let go. instead, he harshly grabs your hand like a ragdoll and places it ontop of his head. his eyes remain fixed onto your face, your heart beats so fast your afraid it'll blast out of your chest at this rate.
it takes you a minute but almost reflexively, you curl your fingers to start scratching at the mop of hair on his head. he closes his eyes almost immediatly, chuffing into the air as he leans into you just slightly when you scratch at the spot right next to one of his horns.
the entire interaction takes up 5 seconds, but you feel like decades just passed by, and you really don't mind much. katsuki opens his eyes slowly to look at you. his eyes shine like he has something he wants to say, like he's debating if he should say something.
"i'll be back.." he whispers, voice low and gravely.
"okay.." you whisper back "don't be long. you're makin' dinner tonight, right ?" you giggle.
he huffs in your face and some smoke comes out, he let's out a barely there chuckle when you scrunch your nose up at him " dumbass, don't think i forgot it's your turn. you're lucky m'letting it slide tonight." he snickers. you tug at his horn and he snarls at you. before leaning back up again. he looks at you for just a moment longer then turns away out the door.
the butterflies in your stomach fly around in a fury, flapping their wings away as a dazed smile pulls at your face. you're satisfied enough for now to ignore the seed of doubt growing in your stomach.
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" woah, there's tons of humans here, huh ?" kirishima says.
katsuki merely grunts in response. they had decided to settle down at a nearby park. it's crawling with humans and katsuki is somewhat dissapointed to realise he isn't all that bothered by their presence anymore. not as much as before at least.
"it’s annoyin." he mutters halfheartedly, leaning against the park bench they were sitting on, he sighs. kirishima chuckles kicking some at some sand, frightening some pigeons nearby. "this place is real peaceful, i can see why you've been here for so long."
bakugou scoffs "wasn't originally what i was plannin’. you think i'd willingly spend my time mingling with humans, shitty hair ?"
"well, kinda seems like it's what you were doing with the human you're living with" kirishima quips, innocently shrugging to himself "just an observation." he adds.
"spell observation, then you can try to act smart with me, dumbass."
"hey, not cool ! i'm not stupid !" kirishima whines. he can't help himself and chuckles. bakugou cracks a faint smirk.
" i wasn't gonna live with that shitty human, just happened to blast through her apartment after losing that stupid tournament. was injured an’ she let me stay till i got better, or whatever." he explains. kirishima furrows his eyebrows, visibly confused.
"i mean, you woulda been blasted off pretty far, but it's been weeks man.. have you gotten weaker or-"
"of course not, shitty scales !" bakugou growls "as if that weakling extra would've gotten me that bad."
"but..you're healed now, aren't you ?" his red haired friend asked. katsuki cringes at the way he's hesitant to answer him.
"yeah.." he utters.
both men stay quiet after that. katsuki sees a man walking his dog and a couple with a little girl in between them.
"you like that human a lot, don't you." kirishima speaks into the silence. katsuki doesn't respond. he sees two humans walking together, smiling and holding onto each others hands.
"tch. as if i could like that shitty human.." he says. kirishima can hear his friend doesn't sound completely sure of himself, despite being the last person he expected to ever be unsure of himself. the blonde barely lasts a minute before sighing to himself. he leans his forearms against his legs.
"i think.. i think she's..y'know.." katsuki groans, grabbing onto his hair, trying to hide his face to cover up his embarrassment. kirishima only smiles to himself knowingly. kicking his feet up slightly in the air. he scratches his hair in the spot his horns usually are, it feels weird to hide them, he thinks.
"yeah, i know." kirishima answers "so, what do you plan to do ?"
"i don't know" katsuki huffs, letting his hands drop from his hair to back onto his lap. " i don't fuckin' know.."
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katsuki returns about an hour later.
you're a little saddened to see that kirishima isn't there with him. "did kirishima leave ?" you ask loud enough so he can hear you from the entrance. he doesn't respond as fast as you'd like him to, the seed of doubt forms again. he walks up to you right infront of the couch and your eyebrows furrow when you see his expression. he refuses to look at you like he did yesterday, your heart squeezes.
"he's waitin' outside" his voice is barely loud enough for you to hear, you turn down the volume of the movie you're watching to hear him better. you see him squint at the floor like he's upset about it.
"oh." you snuggle into the couch, trying your hardest to get comfortable "is he coming over for dinner ?" you ask.
katsuki clenches his fists, taking in a breath "no, he—listen." he looks up at you and his eyebrow furrow harder, it's heartbreaking and you want to reach out to him but you can't bring yourself to move.
"i..i have to go." he says, keeping his eyes on you.
you feel like someone just punched you in the gut.
you don't know how or what to feel. you knew he wouldn't be able to stay forever, you're both completely different. you have different lives, different routines--you're fully different beings. but somehow you'd tried to convince yourself that you weren't all that different from each other. that because you'd gotten used to watching movies, bickering, cooking for each other and folding laundry together, you'd thought maybe things could be different. you could've made this your routine.
"o-oh. oh." you say, voice wobbly "oh, yeah, okay..but your injuries.."
"it's fine i—" he cuts himself off, taking a deep breath. you don't like seeing him like this. katsuki decides he hates the look on your face more than anything. " i was supposed to leave a while ago."
your heart hurts, so so much. it hurts because the look on his face shatters you. it hurts because his words are shattering you. you can't help but feel a little stupid, dragons were really something else. they're not like regular humans, of course he wouldn't heal like one.
"okay..okay." your grip on the remote tightens so hard it starts to hurt. katsuki bites at his lip, he stands there like he's stuck to the floor. the conversation is over. no tears, no screaming, no fighting. it's over but his body won't allow him to move. like he should stay, stay where he feels right.
he should stay here with you.
without another word, katsuki turns around and leaves.
you sit there on the couch for a moment longer, watching his back as he walks away from you. going back to where he actually belongs.
back home.
you feel a giant lump in your throat, your eyes cloud up as you hear the door close behind him along with the low sound of the movie still playing on your tv. you lay down on your couch and cry. tears roll down your face as you shove your head deeper and deeper into one of the pillows and sob.
it seems it was your turn to make dinner tonight, after all.
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AAAANNND it is done ! ngl i kinda felt a lil pain in my chest writing this LMFAOOO ughhh my hate love relationship w angst is doin number on me rn :(( welp anyway i had alot of fun writing either way , and i hope you enjoy reading as well ! sorries it took so long ml's
taglist ! : @sikuthealien @rosemarygalaxy @guccirosegold @slashersl0t @queenpiranhadon @k0z3me @katsuisbaby
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