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#*cries in fluff*
sttoru · 9 months
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Toji and bath time with baby Megumi. That is all 🖤
mhm mhm i present to u the life toji deserves,
ෆ tags. dad!toji x female reader. toji being a good dad & bathing megumi on his own. fluff.
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“hold on, buddy.” toji mumbles as he holds megumi in one arm, the other stretched out to dip his fingers in the water. he quickly checks the temperature of the filled tub and after confirming that it’s lukewarm, he moves on to kiss megumi’s cheek.
“mama said you’re a real crybaby if you get in alone, so daddy will join ya. consider yourself lucky, kid— i don’t do this just for anyone.” toji lets out a breathy chuckle at his own jokes. despite megumi being way too young to understand what toji was saying to him, the man still got a kick out of teasing and playing around with his son.
toji carefully gets into the tub, holding megumi in his hands and slowly lowering the small baby into the water. this causes megumi to kick his chubby legs around while squealing loudly. the drops of water splashed onto toji’s face and he shakes his head with a small smile because of his son’s actions, “hey, hey, easy now, kiddo.”
once megumi was settled in the tub, toji hums thoughtfully as his eyes dart around the bathroom, clearly trying to recall the instructions you gave him beforehand. he couldn’t really remember the order of the things you told him, thus he decides to freestyle this new experience of giving megumi his bath.
“oh, hold on.” toji gets an idea and reaches over the edge of the tub to the near counter, sliding open a drawer and grabbing a bottle of bath foam which he doesn’t even bother reading, “i’ve seen your mama put this in whenever she bathes you. it creates bubbles or somethin’ like that.”
toji pops the cap open and pours the fluid in the water. he doesn’t pour only a little, no, he pours a lot. “should be enough,” he shrugs and tosses the bottle aside, grinning down at megumi who was too engrossed at the way the clear liquid moved between his small fingers.
and it turned out that it was more than just enough in the end. in a couple seconds to a single minute, the entire bath was overflowing with bath foam— it even threatened to spill out of the tub. in a blink of an eye, megumi was gone and engulfed by a sea of bubbles. not that the little boy minded it; toji could hear a few curious babbles and saw his son’s fingers try to move the foam out of his face.
toji couldn’t help it and started laughing his ass off at the sight of megumi disappearing behind the wall of foam (totally not trying to help his kid at the moment). he hadn’t had a good laugh like that in days.
after calming down—though still wheezing a bit between words—toji finally pushed the foam aside and picked megumi up, also wiping away the possible bubbles that got into his eyes, “heh— c’mere, buddy. can’t let ya drown in those bubbles.”
megumi was holding onto his dad’s face, two tiny hands patting both of his cheeks while toji was clearing the foam from megumi’s body, making sure that nothing got into the boy’s eyes. once thoroughly checked, toji kept laughing a little, chuckling at the way megumi was just innocently staring back at him.
the poor baby didn’t even understand what had happened to him seconds ago, yet was still smiling and giggling once he saw how happy his dad was.
at that exact same time, you were passing by the closed bathroom door. the muffled laughter made you curious as to what was going on, though just by hearing the sounds of joy, it seemed like your husband and son were having a great time. the fact alone made a smile appear on your own face.
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gardnhee · 1 month
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faint memories - zuko
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୨୧- tw/content. angst with a pinch of fluff, intentional lowercase, not proofread, little cursing here and there.
୨୧- zuko x afab!reader
୨୧- note. this applies to both animated and live action zuko!! requested by my baby @lovlyrickyyy 🤍
୨୧- dividers by @plutism !
୨୧- wc. 1.2k
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“stop…moving!” you grit, holding zuko’s face as he glares at you, small wince erupting from his throat.
“how do you expect me-“ he hisses, hands instinctively flying up to get a hold of your wrists. “to not move when there’s this huge fucking burn on my face!” zuko retorts, grip tightening on you. you sigh, heart dropping as you no longer see that glint in his eyes. the glint that is now replaced with sadness, pain, suffering.
zuko’s chambers grew dead silent, no more arguing, no more disagreeing from you or him. just silence.
a small smile spread on his face as he now caressed your wrist with his thumb, pressing a small kiss to it, “i’m sorry for grabbing so hard.” this made your head perk up, blush spreading across your cheeks. you shake your head, “i understand.” the room goes silent again.
only thing that could be heard were the faint yells of the firebenders training outside and the mouse like footsteps of whoever passed by the unnecessarily and stupidly huge doors.
you kept applying the ointment onto zuko’s wound, sitting back with a small huff to examine him. to you, even with that huge scar on his face, he’s still as handsome as ever. you noticed how he tried to hide it from you, looking down at his trembling hands as the events from earlier are still fresh in his mind.
he slumped back on the bed, eliciting a whine of disapproval - you weren’t done tending to him. zuko ignores this as he just lays there, gazing up at his tall ceiling with a blank stare.
you knew him all too well, which means you also knew he was hiding something. refraining himself from talking. you hated it.
“zuko-?” you started as his body jerked up from the wine red sheets.
“i’m getting exiled.” he didn’t let you speak, words crawling up his throat as he was unable to hold them back.
you felt as if all air had been knocked out of your lungs, like a punch to the gut. your chest heaved, eyes squinting and eyebrows knitting together.
“w-what?” it’s not that you didn’t hear, in fact zuko’s words unfortunately fell on very perceptive ears.
“i’m-“
“you’re joking, right?” you chuckled awkwardly, fading into nothing as his eyes saddened. “i’m sorry.” was all he could muster. you frantically shook your head, disgusted that he felt forced to apologize for something he had no control over.
“how long?”
zuko hummed, eyes spaced out somewhere, looking everywhere but at you. you bit your lip, kneeling towards him, cold and shaky hands cupping his cheeks.
“stop avoiding and answer me, zuko. how long?”
zuko’s eyes peeled away from wherever he was previously glancing at, “however long it takes.” he mumbles and you frown, “what do you even mean by that.” you sigh, sitting back in defeat as you run your fingers through your hair.
“until i catch the avatar.”
you scoffed, “that’s fucking ridiculous.” zuko agreed silently, but that wasn’t enough for you. nowhere near, actually.
“i’m going to speak to your father.” you stand, making him stand with you, eyes wide and pupils blown.
“you can’t, yn.” he reaches for you in vain as you yank your hand back. “don’t try to stop me, zuko.” you were beyond pissed, tone dripping venom as zuko stood in front of you, obstructing your way to the door.
“move, goddamnit!” you hit his chest repeatedly, each strike more desperate than the last. “how are you just…okay with this?” you sobbed, forehead propped against his chest, his arms falling beside him, stiff as a statue.
“what more can i do?”
he made a good point, so good that it shushed you with a slap to the face.
“i’m leaving.”
“yn please wait-“
“im. leaving.” your lip quivered, voice shaky, eyes watery. zuko nodded, moving back to his bed, sitting on the edge.
you made your way to the bed as well, grabbing the ointment and placing it back on the metal tray.
“i hope to see you again, yn.” he murmured, back facing you as you stayed quiet, not wanting to entertain the idea of him leaving. sadly, it doesn’t matter if you entertain said idea or not, it’s happening anyway.
the moment you stepped out the door, that was it, even the hope of ever seeing him again started to dissipate.
by this point you were halfway down the dim hallway, ready to turn the corner back to the servant’s quarters. you looked back, guards standing proud and tall outside the prince’s room. you bit your lip, gazing down at the cold tray in your hands, caressing it with your index finger.
after taking a deep breath and preparing yourself for a life without your first love, you walk off, never to hear from zuko again.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“fucking hell!” zuko groaned as the memory made an unwanted visit for the nth time this week, standing from his cot like bed. he looked outside the small ship window, eyes landing on an endless ocean, stretching far and wide, separating him from you.
it’s been 3 years since zuko had the pleasure of laying eyes upon you. your pouty lips - which he longed to kiss - sparkling eyes, and beaming smile, he missed it all; every single second of it.
he made it his mission to capture the avatar, whatever it took, zuko will bring him before his father and finally get to feel your embrace again.
the fact that he didn’t seize the opportunity to confess, to tell you just how much he loves you - vocalize the burning desire to make you his partner - was eating at him from the inside out.
zuko paces around the room, breathing heavily as he grows anxious. his patience is running thin and he doesn’t know how much longer he can stay civil.
with three curt knocks zuko turns, uttering a ‘come in’ as his mind was somewhere else. a soldier walks in, with a small bow of his head, he exclaims, “we’ve found the avatar, sir!” this made zuko’s face brighten, nails no longer trapped between teeth.
“where?” the prince breathed, unspoken urgency in his voice. “here in the south pole, sir.” he raised a brow, “how far?” “close by, approximately 2 nautical miles.” despite his shocked expression, zuko was elated.
“good job.” was all zuko said before strolling out his suffocating room. his palms grew sweaty, his heart hammered against his chest. he simply couldn’t contain himself.
he will see you again.
oh, he’s just imagining it; walking up behind you and surprising you, indulging in your warm laugh, welcoming eyes, and safe presence.
this is something he simply won’t - can’t - pass. zuko has the target within reach and he’s going to hold on tight, so tight the avatar will have no choice but to turn himself in.
a way one ticket, an opportunity peeking its face through the blur that is his life.
no matter the circumstance, he will not miss or give up - no, he’s coming home to you, forever this time.
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© GARDNHEE 2024, do not copy, modify, or upload on other platforms
୨୧ - hope you liked it!! this is kinda rushed so im sorry if there’s any spelling errors :( please like, comment, and reblog. would be highly appreciated 🫶.
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ikarakie · 1 year
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steve's favourite thing to do is interchange the names in songs with people's he knows. usually just as a bit of fun, like singing "gimme, gimme, gimme ro-bin after midnight!" to make her laugh in the car when she's had a bad morning. or, "i wish that i was dustin's girl!" in a horrific impression of suzie that makes the kid body slam him in retaliation.
so one day, when him and eddie are hanging out in his kitchen, amicably flitting around each other as they make food, he can't help himself. the drums start up from the radio in the corner and a smile spreads across his face, because he thought of this one weeks ago and has been dying to use it.
he whirls around and points at eddie, who's looked up at the sudden movement, with the business end of a wooden spoon. "oh, eddie you're so fine! you're so fine, you blow my mind! hey, eddie!" he takes a step forward, relishing in how munson's jaw drops to the floor. "hey, eddie!"
he does a sort of half shuffle, half dance around to eddie's other side, where he continues, jumping up and down and shaking his head back and forth with the beat, "oh, eddie you're so fine, you're so fine, you blow my mind!" he gets up in eddie's space, to where they're practically nose to nose, "hey eddie!"
"oh my god, what is happening?" eddie asks, trying his hardest to suppress a grin. steve continues to dance and sing like an idiot, abandoning the spoon on the counter to grab both eddie's hands and pull his arms back and forth in an attempt to get him dancing too.
by the start of the first verse eddie is half-heartedly bouncing along, watching steve with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. he thinks he's fucking beautiful like this- big blinding smile, full of energy- and takes a second to ponder the turns his life has taken to bring him here, in this moment. where steve harrington is singing a cheesy, upbeat love song at him, having replaced the name in it for his.
steve cups eddie's hands together and uses them as a makeshift microphone, belting out the lyrics to the chorus as eddie giggles along in the background. "-oh, eddie! what a pity, you don't understand," puts his best pouty face and places eddie's hand on his chest, over his heart. eddie's eyes widen. "you take me by the heart when you take me by the hand! oh, eddie, you're so pretty," really fucking emphasises the word pretty. because, damn. "why can't you understand? it's guys like you, eddie!" grabs him by the shoulders and rocks them both back and forth with each word. eddie's hand drops from his chest to circle around his waist, seemingly out of instinct, and fuck, he liked that.
eddie was staring at him now, sparkly eyed and hopeful. steve clasped his hands together at the base of eddie's neck, as he sung, a little less overzealous now, "oh, what you do, eddie, do eddie," as the gap between them got less and less. steve had to work to bite down the grin on his face.
"don't break my heart, eddie." he said, barely loud enough for them to hear over the music. eddie grinned, pressing their lips together as the chorus ended.
it was objectively bad, with the way they both smiled and giggled through the whole fucking thing, but god, who cares. to them, in that exact moment, it was the best damn kiss either of them had ever had.
until, that is, when eddie pulls back (very fucking regretfully) and realises something.
"we did not just have our first kiss to 'hey, mickey!' by toni basil." he whispers, in genuine horror. steve throws his head back with such bright laughter, still pressed against him, that it almost makes it worth it.
keyword almost, because then the menace leans back in, all coy, and replies, "i'm never, ever letting you forget it."
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caelanglang · 1 year
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Post-Mission Celebration: Movie Night Afternoon (things that happen when you’re all working the night shift…)
if you squint you’ll see them breathing
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demigods-posts · 28 days
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read this one fic of percy and annabeth spending time together at montauk when they're not doing anything. and i have this headcanon that they're just being a couple of dorks together. annabeth wearing an owl onsie and percy wearing a shark one. blasting broadway musicals and screaming the hearts out. having random dance parties. baking brownies at 2 in the morning. cuddling on the kitchen flour covered in flour and talking about their hopes and dreams for their future together. falling asleep on the couch while watching the cheesiest rom coms. just wholesome shit.
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
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au where Steve is a famous Disney kid and Eddie is a teenaged singer-songwriter. They get pushed together at events because they're close in age, but they just quietly dislike each other.
Steve's got a new show starting, a spinoff of the one that made him a household name. They hire a newcomer, Robin Buckley, to play his best friend and the two quickly become BFF in real life.
The show runs for two seasons but when it comes time to renegotiate contracts, neither star is interested. They're older now, ready to live life on their terms and not the company's, or in Steve's case, his parents.
As soon as the finale airs, Robin and Steve celebrate by going to a gay club. A few weeks later, an interview is released where Steve comes out as bi and talks about how his parents mistreated him; how they worked with the network to pressure him to be a perfect "all-American" kid even off screen.
Meanwhile, Eddie's an impossible level of famous. He's had number-one hits, won a Grammy, headlined an arena tour, achieved every dream he had for himself as a kid growing up in a trailer park in Indiana. He's not shocked by the news that Steve is leaving Hollywood, but he's flabbergasted that the guy isn't straight. When Eddie reads the interview, he gets this weird pang in his chest, almost like regret. But he never even liked Steve.
Steve isn't in the news again and Eddie doesn't think of him for a long time.
Steve goes to college. He loves it. Not because he's great in his classes, or anything, but because he's free to be himself for the first time. He makes friends and goes to parties and relaxes. He and Robin share an apartment.
After a few semesters, Steve decides to take a couple of theater classes, and is quickly cast in campus productions. In the vague anonymity of college theater he rediscovers his love of acting. No one has expectations of him, no one forces him to perform. He graduates and slowly starts appearing in small roles in Indie films, gathering critical acclaim. He feels good. Happy. Hopeful.
Eddie is blissfully unaware of Steve's career resurgence, experiencing his own musical highpoints, until the day where he's scrolling Twitter, sees a Variety headline that's getting a bunch of attention, "Steve Harrington in talks to star in Max Mayfield's first film." Eddie's livid.
"Maxine, what the fuck?" He growls when she answers his call.
They grew up together in the same Indiana trailer park. When she moved to Hollywood to start a career as a screenwriter, Eddie was by her side. And when her first script wound up on the Black List, his involvement on the soundtrack and original songs sealed her production deal.
She gives a long suffering sigh. "Munson," she grumbles. "I know you have a weird history with this guy, but I swear he's the right choice."
"He's a stuck up rich boy who's never been in trouble in his life."
"He's changed."
"Doubtful," Eddie sneers.
"Look. I'll set-up a meeting. Come hang out and you'll see what I mean." Before she hangs up she adds, "Call me Maxine again and I'll end you."
They invite Harrington to Eddie's recording studio. His hopes are not high for this meeting, so he's already a little thrown when Steve Harrington walks in, all grown up. He's in a crimson sweater, tight jeans, hair grown long so that it flops around his face in tousled waves that actually look genuine, windswept and golden. Eddie's eyes instinctively trace the scatter of moles on Harrington's face and neck, a pang of something hitting deep in his gut. Fuck, this dude is beautiful.
"Harrington," he greets, sticks out his hand. Eddie barely hears the answering, "Munson," because instead of a handshake, Harrington pulls Eddie in for a hug. Muscles bunch under the sleeves of the sweater, against Eddie's chest, and he's assaulted by the scent of cedar and sunshine and Steve. Eddie's not prepared for any of this.
They make small talk, Harrington sharing about going to college, falling in love with theater, Robin Buckley who he calls his soulmate. Eddie's head rings with how wrong he was about this guy; the pretty kid he grew up alongside who seemed to have the world in his hands. Max was right, he's perfect. Except.
"Let's get down to it, Harrington," Eddie says. Can't bring himself to call him Steve yet, feels that will somehow change everything and he's not ready. "I'll admit that Mayfield had the right idea about you, but can you sing? Play guitar? You have to perform my music, dude. That's not a small ask."
Harrington smirks, asks for a guitar. He gets it settled across his lap before he speaks. "I started taking piano lessons when I was 4. Voice and guitar at 7."
Eddie belatedly recalls that Harrington's parents were the worst kind of stage-parents, pushing their cute kid to perform even as he sobbed about wanting to play soccer with his friends instead of going to auditions. He has a moment of shame that he forgets as the other man begins to play. It's one of Eddie's biggest hits, a ballad about a teenaged broken heart from a kid whose name he can't even remember.
Harrington's hair flops in a swoop over his forehead, his fingers move across the strings with ease, skill. His voice is a rasp, close mimic to Eddie's own, but not quite deep enough. Goosebumps spread across Eddie's arms, his neck, and warmth pools low in his gut.
Steve finishes the song, looks up, cheeks glowing pink, honey eyes bright. Eddie's fucking gone for this guy. He wants so badly he might choke on it.
"Good?" Steve asks.
Eddie's embarrassed suddenly. Unsure. He tugs at his hair. "Yeah," he laughs. "Good."
He reaches out to take the guitar, the one Steve's already handing to him, and their hands brush. Eddie flushes. Their eyes meet and Steve smiles. Eddie's thoughts are consumed with the desire to kiss his plush pink mouth.
"You wanna get dinner? Just you and me?" Steve asks.
"Yeah, Steve," he laughs. "I'd love to."
🎬🎸🎬🎸
Fifteen Months Later
"Former Teen Heartthrobs Make Love Connection?"
Fans of musician Eddie Munson and former child star, Steve Harrington, were in for the surprise of their lives last night as the men arrived together for the premier of Harrington's new movie, Small Town Sins, written by up-and-coming screenwriter Max Mayfield, featuring original music by Munson. While Harrington's performance and the movie itself are garnering quite a bit of positive buzz, it's being overshadowed by gossip about Harrington and Munson's budding romance. They walked the red carpet together, pausing for photos as a duo, holding hands and flirting. When asked for confirmation of their relationship, Munson answered, 'we're bros,' before winking and pulling Harrington close.
There's a TikTok video embedded below the article, showing the men being interviewed on the red carpet. Their arms are loosely around each others' waists, and when their eyes meet they catch and hang for a beat.
"So, longtime fans of both of yours are going feral online right now because of the rumors that you two used to hate each other. Is there any truth to that?" An off-camera voice asks.
The men laugh. "We've always been great friends," Eddie answers.
"Eddie thought I was stuck up," Steve giggles.
"I did not." Eddie slaps at Steve, who gives him an affectionate smile.
"Liar," Steve answers.
Eddie leans into the camera like he's telling a secret. "Harrington here was afraid of me."
"Fuck off, I was not." They wrestle around for a couple of seconds.
Steve shrugs Eddie off, straightening his suit jacket. "Okay, maybe I was a little intimidated back then, but then this morning you found a pretty rock and cried about it."
Eddie shrieks, swatting at Steve until someone in a black suit and name tag shoos them down the red carpet.
Eddie walks off first, so he misses Steve withdrawing a hand from his pocket and saying, "Still have the rock, though." He flashes the red, grey, blue striped stone at the camera.
His gaze drifts away, landing somewhere in the distance, hazel eyes soft and heart-wrenchingly fond.
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missviviii · 3 months
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a/n: zayne my boo <3 im sobbing over the fact that the game killed off mc’s grandma and caleb 😭
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ミ★ Love & Deep Space ミ★
pairing: zayne x fem!reader
warning(s): mentions of death, mentions of the explosion that killed mc’s grandma + childhood best friend (caleb) in game, spoilers(?)
Summary: Ever since that day, you’ve fallen in a deep, dark pit. Why did you have to be the one that they decide to destroy? Why did Caleb and Grandma have to die? Is it your fault they did? Zayne, as your primary care physician and a family friend, is concerned for your well-being.
“Sometimes, a small gesture is all it takes.”
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The sound of the news on your TV, the thundering rain outside, the sound of the cars driving by your apartment—it all blurs out as you stared at the TV screen, eyes dead and unfocused on the news of the Wanderers attacking and the explosions. Some 22 casualties, two deaths. Grandma and Caleb. His necklace that you bought him as a goodbye gift when he left for the Aerospace Academy sits beside a picture of you, him, and Grandma on the coffee table, the cheerful smiles making you wished that you could revisit time.
Your apartment, once somewhat organized and clean, is now messy with things being knocked down and dirty dishes long discarded. You stare at the one last thing your Grandma left for you, some..tablet(?) with a final letter on it. You haven’t gotten the energy or the ability to open it. It pains you, seeing that you haven’t visited for so long yet when you do, this was the time her house had to explode right in front of you, flames engulfing the house and the only thing that remained was Caleb’s necklace.
“I miss you, Grandma..” You mumbled to nobody, rubbing the tears threatening to spill out your eyes as you glanced down at the item she left you with. Besides that, a small box of her old recipes of those notecards, and other small things that she had entrusted to you years before.
Around you was your laptop, papers and files on the latest Wanderer attacks around you. Yes, Captain Jenna dismissed you and said that you should take some days off to regain your energy, since you haven’t been getting the sleep or the energy you needed, but you just couldn’t.
Your door opened, yet you didn’t bother to look at who entered. “Still sitting in front of the TV?” A familiar voice spoke out, flipping the light switch on and shutting the door behind him. It was Zayne, a long time family friend and your primary care physician. “You haven’t eaten,” he bluntly says as he sets a bag of food on your table and walked into the kitchen. He bites back a sigh, knowing that you were going through a tough time, and people tended to discard everything and grieve and grieve their hearts out.
“Hello to you too, Zayne,” you replied as you shut off the news and got up off your sofa. You pile up all the papers and files you’ve scattered around and set them on the coffee table before you walk into the kitchen as Zayne is cleaning up your dirty dishes. He checks in on you whenever he’s free or when he’s off his shift. He looks back at you, only making a small hum of acknowledgment before cleaning up your dirty kitchen. You looked terrible—eyes red and puffy from crying, obvious eye bags, and the sparkles from your eyes were gone.
You yawn as you take out a bowl and some utensils for whatever food he brought in for you. You unpacked the bag as he cleaned up the dishes you couldn’t bother doing last week. Potatoes, avocado on the side, tuna salad, salmon and rice you said to yourself as you took out the food that he had carefully backed in those plastic containers for you. Then you took out the last thing. Cookie..dough? He remembered your favorite childhood snack. The kind of cookie dough you liked.
“Your grandma gave me a recipe for the cookie dough. She said that if she couldn’t make it, I should since it lightens your mood,” Zayne says as he puts your clean dishes back into the cabinet. He dries his hand off before walking over to you, watching how you stare at it like a piece of gold. Disbelief and shock were etched on your face.
Zayne puts his hand on your back, soothingly rubbing circles as you opened the container and took a bite. Your eyes almost brimmed with tears again. You could remember how your grandma used to bake in the kitchen and you’d always sneak a bite or two of the cookie dough, no care in the world if you could get salmonella.
“Thank..you, Zayne,” you finally said, turning around tightly hugging him. He was a bit hesitant at first, but he put his hand on your head, massaging your scalp as he looked down at you with a gentle look on his face.
“..You’re welcome. I miss her too.”
Zayne’s eyes looked away at the picture on the counter of your grandma. She didn’t have to go out this way.
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i don’t think it’s talked about enough how awful joel’s death was for tommy too.
…like that was his big brother who basically raised him alongside sarah. tommy is like 4 or 5 years younger than joel so i can only imagine how much he just adored his big brother as a kid.
tommy, when he was younger, would do things like this…
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little tommy fr sent a letter back home to joel when he was away at camp just because he missed him. he looked up to joel so much as a brother, a mentor and a best friend.
even after they came back together at jackson, they goofed around as brothers…
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after joel’s death, and by the end of the game, tommy literally lost an eye after getting shot in the head, could barely walk right and split with maria.
not to mention, he probably carries a ton of guilt about joel’s death like ellie does. he was literally with joel when they were attacked. i’m sure he feels like he should have been able to do more and save him.
i know a lot of people get mad at tommy when he goes to ellie and dina’s ranch to talk about abby. admittedly, he does push ellie, guilt tripping her a bit. realistically, he shouldn’t have pushed ellie like that… but he’s grieving just as much as ellie, if not more so, since that was literally his brother of 50 years. he’s bound to do rash things like that.
joel was absolutely tommy’s best friend, and even if they had that separation for those 20 some years, joel was always his big brother, no matter what. they never stopped loving each other.
i have a sister and i couldn’t imagine losing her like tommy lost joel.
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riaki · 5 months
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after party | satoru gojo x reader
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gojo wanted to help you prepare a friendsgiving dinner, but he's a little tired n a lot tipsy.
cw: non curse au, everyones alive, shoko typical smoking, drinking, you’re married to gojo wc: 3.3k
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this was supposed to be short but it just spiraled n i kind of hate it b i technically posted on the 23rd so it counts !! not proofread!
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business dinners with satoru are exhausting, to say the least—you start the day early to the scent of coffee through a filter and a fresh breeze through your open window, sending your husband off to work with a hug and a kiss—maybe a promise of more if he pulls the 'five more minutes!' on you.
this one is special, though; old friends from freely youthful highschool days gathered around your dinner table on the mats of your living room floor catching up over cans of beer cold with condensation, the sound of can tabs popping and the fizzling of bubbly spirits over tables of warm food in tin containers.
geto, the tall man with dark hair and gauges, talks about how his two daughters are adjusting to city life, occasionally interrupted by cheerful brightness never dampened by adult years from haibara, an apprenticing entrepeneur under nanami who's got a thing for girls with big appetites. shoko and utahime are having a drinking contest, and mei mei's too occupied with her phone; checking stocks as her tacky nails click against the glass screen.
satoru can't cook. there's a reason why he always buys takeout when you're too busy to provide or you've already gone to sleep— he should be the picture perfect husband, because you deserve that and everything more. his only (self-perceived) flaws are his lack of alcohol tolerance and his inability to master the frying pan.
you always tell him he doesn't have to be a michelin chef— but with the way he's constantly sneaking a chocolate graham cracker from your muji snack bag or snagging the sour gummy between your teeth from your lips, he feels like he should compensate. so on this special november evening, when the hum of the city life outside your balcony gets drowned out by the cheerful mirth of a warm dinner table, he had decided to help you.
the warm kitchen had become a foodstained disaster— but with tearful round eyes and a hand tugging on your shirt, you'd resigned to helping him conquer the task of simple packaged noodles and soft-boiled eggs. he'd cut his finger— even the most capable teacher found his shortcomings against a blunt kitchen knife. needless to say you'd peppered it with kisses before wrapping a rainbow hello kitty bandaid around it.
and that brings you to the present: the result of your extensively hard work; a few soggy noodles collected at the bottom of porcelain bowls painted red on the insides in a lukewarm puddle of soup, full stomachs and a loose and welcoming atmosphere. you wouldn't trade it for the world.
you're fishing a pickled radish slice out of your bowl when satoru leans over, removing the arm that was snaked around your shoulder to drape himself on your lap, lying down on the floor with his knees propped up and his soft cloud-white hair sprawled over your thighs. geto makes a distasteful face when satoru's black socks brush against his leg. across the table, shoko knocks shoulders with utahime as she lights a cigarette; the latter's face flushes as smoke drifts past her lightly flushed face into the open window city night air overhead.
"hey, you. what's up?" you asked softly, chuckling to yourself as you set your chopsticks atop the rim of your bowl, leaning back on your arms to look down at him. he adjusts himself a little, wiggling on your lap as you caught a whiff of his beer breath and scrunch your nose.
"hiii, baby," he drawls, giggling a little to himself. his smooth, usually playful voice took on that deep tone he used whenever he was being serious, and it sent an involuntary shiver down your spine, so you hugged him closer and ran a hand through his soft white hair, brushing your fingers against the black cloth of his blindfold. "what'cha doing?"
"i was eating. you put too much pepper in the broth, 'toru." you smiled softly, tracing the line of his jaw slowly with one finger in the way you knew he liked so much; it was obvious from the way he sighed contentedly and tilted his head into your palm. whether it be from that unfathomably sweet smile or the tender way you held his face in your delicate hands, that was up to him to ponder. next to you, haibara makes a joke— something about mei mei's stocks, and she quips a snarky retort that has him laughing raucously while nanami makes a face.
"i tried!" he protests, almost a whine as he sighs; a hand sneaks up to lift the edge of his blindfold up so his eyes meet yours, and you're left breathless. it catches you off guard every time— those endless pools of swirling blue that stare straight through you, sifting through your thoughts like a scholar annotating an open book, all heart-shaped sticky notes and bright highlighters when it came to thinking about him.
"not hard enough, clearly. but it's okay; we'll do better next time."
he just frowns again at that, sticking out his lower lip in a little pout that makes your heart squeeze. your stomach is full with noodles and broth; you don't think you could stomach another bite if you tried, and you're not one to drink especially if everyone else is. so, you let yourself indulge a little— snake a hand on the back of satoru's neck and tilt him up until he's sitting halfway up and you can easily meet his lips in a kiss.
he reciprocates immediately, hungry like he was waiting for you; you notice that he hasn't eaten much of his food yet, so maybe he was. or maybe he knows how bad it is. either way, his tongue darts out from his parted lips to flick against your own for a moment, before he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip and draws out a teasing whine that you have to stifle because "we have company, 'toru," you have to breath as a reminder. he just laughs breathily against your lips, tasting like bitter beer and buttery vanilla as he shifts to practically sit on top of you, hands on your shoulders as his thumbs brush over your collarbone where the edge of your shirt fails to cover tantalizing skin; he's taller and eventually ends up bringing the both of you toppling down onto the mats.
your back hits the floor and a little gasp leaves your winded lungs— but satoru eagerly catches it with his lips and swallows it, like he's intent on getting drunken off his ass from you (as if he wasn't already tipsy) when he smashes his swollen lips to yours again. your hair is splayed out against the tatami mats like you're trapped in some marine watercolor painting, and for a split second satoru thinks if mermaids were real you'd be the most angelic he'd ever seen as his calloused fingers curl into the strands.
you're about to hook a leg around his waist when a shout catches your ear and you part lips with a gasp, sucking in greedy breaths as satoru promptly sits on your stomach. you let out a stuffed oomph from his weight, and watch as he slides his blindfold back on to look over at the rest of the table who're staring at the two of you like they're watching some forbidden steamy movie scene that's meant to be shielded from children's eyes.
“don’t kiss him while he’s drunk. it’s like rewarding a brat for bad behavior,” shoko says. you sit up with much effort, straining under satoru’s weight as you reach up to grab his shoulders. you miss, but he takes your hands and pulls you up, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from falling back down as you rest your head on his shoulder. utahime has her arms lazily draped over shoko; you assume she’s drunk from that, but if you were to inspect her for long enough you’d notice her can of beer was almost completely full.
“oh, i guess you’re right.” you remarked, frowning a little and biting the inside of your cheek as you pull away from satoru and glance at him. all of the sudden he looks like he’s ready to keel over; the shadows beneath his eyes are reinforced by the alcohol in his system and it looks like he’ll need to tape his eyes open lest he passes out right on top of you. you want to avoid that, so you gently push him off, sighing to yourself.
“don’t listen to her, sweetheart. you can kiss me all you want,” he smirks, a flash of pearly white teeth that would’ve been on your neck a moment ago if not for the interruption. you just shake your head with a breathless laugh, giving him a quick flick to the forehead. before you can pull away, though— he catches your hand, bringing your wrist to his glossy pink lips and giving your pulse a quick peck. “no, she has a point.” you hummed. overhead, the light flickers a little; a moth that had flown in through the window danced about the bulb. the faint sound of car horns filters through the window along with the breeze, recycled laughter and lively chatter from bars a few stories down carried in the cool wind.
you mill about for another twenty minutes or so, content to just listen in as old friends shared anecdotes and funny stories from separate paths of life; you soon learned that nanami was planning on moving to malaysia, and shoko was due to renew her medical license this year. the beer cans built up, mixed in with crumpled napkins that had penned doodles on the rough surface and paper chopstick wrappers. somewhere along the line, satoru had fallen asleep— you had to push his unfinished ramen bowl out of the way before he knocked his head against the wooden table and spilt his meal. you frowned a little at the sight of it— you knew he'd complain about his soaked noodles and limp seaweed sheets later on. you found yourself slinging one of your jackets over his shoulders, fingers lingering over his neck, where the scratchy hair of his undercut met soft warm skin.
soon enough, dishes are piling up in the sink and calling your name; the kids see themselves home via train station, spouting something about a late night pit stop in sendai for the mochi that 'our teacher likes so much'. you consider asking them to bring some back for satoru, but you decide you'll enjoy a laugh when he tells you about how he went to school the next morning to find out for himself, and the stab of hurt that will pierce his full heart in two when he hears the news. even then, you have to shush them as they show themselves out; you can tell from the way satoru's eyebrows knit together beneath his blindfold and the pinch of his jaw that he doesn't appreciate the noise, no matter how blacked out.
the conversation dies down a little, and soon enough, everyone takes their leave one by one. it's only when you settle back down after cleaning up the bowls and putting away the cups that satoru stirs, waking up with a mumble and a huff. his hair is a disheveled mess, and there are sleep lines on his face, but he's still handsome as ever.
"baby?" his voice is hoarse with sleep and dehydration. there's a dull ache between his eyes, feeling like he'd just ran a circle around the world. you answer from the kitchen, calling his name. it's late; past midnight now. the window's still open and satoru's can of beer is still on the table, almost completely empty.
"how long did i sleep? shit, did everyone go home? 'm sorry," he groans, standing up and stretching his arms out. his shirt rides up on his shoulders, exposing the arch of his hip just above the edge of his pants. "don't worry, 'toru." you hummed, washing your hands in the sink as you look over at him. he just nods, grabbing the can and crumpling it in his hands before tossing it in the trash.
"you okay? got a headache?" you asked as he walked over to you, careful not to hit his head on the arch that connected the living room to the kitchen. when you'd first moved in with him, you had to pin a strip of bright yellow caution tape to remind him to duck his head. you smiled as you reminisced over late nights, tucked in his arms as he mused about demolishing the wall there just so he could be rid of the bruise on his temple. then again, as long as you were waiting for him to kiss it better at the end of his nine to five, he didn't mind.
he nods, and watches as an easy smile stretches across your lips; they look infuriatingly kissable under the warm glow of the hazy kitchen light, shining off the porcelain cups in the sink. he leans against the kitchen counter, cold marble feeling through the thin fabric of his shirt as you take his leftovers from the fridge and heat them up in the microwave, standing before the black glass as you watch the little plate spin inside.
there's something about moments like these; so sweet and easy with you after everyone's taken the last train home and all that's left are empty beer cans and extra bowls in the dishwasher for two people with matching rings on their fingers to take care of.
he walks up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your chin. he smiles when he feels your hand cup his cheek, and he turns his head instinctively to meet your lips in a slow, sweet kiss; a muscle memory tango between familiar lovers. when he pulls away to catch his breath, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, you're already there with your fingers, pulling his blindfold down to rest around his neck and gently rubbing the spot beside his eyes, alleviating the tension behind them. it's unspoken moments like these that he loves the most in your relationship. making a mess in your kitchen is a close second.
it's a slow, easy night after a special get-together when the microwave beeps and you take his noodles out, bringing them to the table as you sit down next to him and rest your head on his shoulder, letting him tuck you into his side as he gets a bit of breaded tonkotsu crumbs on his cheek and insists you wipe them off for him like he's some oversized baby. you wash some cherries in a green plastic bowl, competing to see who can spit the pits into the trashcan without missing. in the end, he lost the game of rock paper scissor and was resigned to pick up the missed pits on the floor.
he's still wearing your jacket like a cape and even though it's far too small for him, he insists on keeping it with him when you go out onto your balcony to finish the last of a bottle of sake together, listening to the melody of the wind in the trees that line the sidewalk and the permeating hustle and bustle of the city, even when it's so late at night it could be considered early morning.
he swipes the cold bottle from your hands, finishing the last drops from the matte glass before letting it dangle between your fingers. and you're expecting it when he catches your arm to pull you into another kiss; he tastes like peaches and wine and a little bit of soup broth. it's slow, and easy, because being with him has always felt as natural as breathing, and being with you has made it easier for him to breathe, like the iron weight on his lungs melts away in the face of your unconditional warmth and care. the cool wind blows your hair in front of your face, and he laughs that charming boyish giggle as he tucks it behind your ears and scoops you up in his arms.
"i don't like sharing you with a sake bottle," you said, pointedly looking at the glass in his hand. he just grins, looking down at you for a moment. he can almost see it again; you, in that gorgeous white wedding cloth. he was carrying you bridal style in the same way now, when you'd decided to grow old together and host special business dinners as a couple in your shared apartment.
"don't worry, love. you're sweeter than any spritz," he laughs, stepping inside again and closing the door behind him.
it's routine, and it's easy, getting ready for bed with him, laughing when he pushes his hair back with a headband, looking like a pretty little princess. you suggest him getting a mullet, and he shushes you by shoving your toothbrush on your tongue, getting a mouthful of mint. the warm water rushes over your fingers before you dry yourself off, wiping your face and putting the towel away only to be met with the equal warmth of his lips on your forehead, peppering you with kisses.
you slip into the covers, still pleasantly cold as you watch satoru sit up and take his shirt off. he lets you peel the rainbow bandaid on his finger off, tossing it in the trash before pulling you into his arms, right where you belong the closest to his heart. "don't cut yourself like that again, okay?"
"it was an accident, baby." he chuckles, and you just roll your eyes. he reaches over to ruffle your hair affectionately and makes a joke about having you suck his blood like a vampire, tooting about how sweet it would be. "besides, i don't need to be careful if you're there to patch me up, pretty. shoko has nothing on you!"
he plays with your hair as you catch him up to the conversations he'd slept away; mei mei had left early when you'd given him your jacket to envelope him in your scent, muttering something about cheap perfume and worthless soggy noodles. he likes to play with your jewelry, you notice— fiddles with the ring on your finger, cupping your hands in his palm as he tucks his face into the back of your neck.
at one point, he asks you to do his hair, so you oblige, rolling him over onto his stomach and clambering on top of his waist. you braid his white strands into cute little pigtails best as you could manage as he tells you about his dream; something about harassing nanami in malaysia and a sunset kiss under crystal clear beach water. it sounds nice, and when you're done with his hair you find it easier to just massage his shoulders and listen to the smooth droning of his voice.
soon enough, you're both warmer than the lukewarm buzz of beer in your veins, and he doesn't remember if he fell asleep first or not, but the gentle melody of your voice haunts him in his dazed sleep as he curls around you.
business dinners really are exhausting— he's left wondering how you pull it off the morning after when he's hungover and the cut on his finger is infected— clearly, the hello kitty bandaid wasn't enough to cut it. the only reasoning that he explains to you as you take your morning shower together, fingers running through your hair, is that you didn't kiss it enough. maybe that's why his soup had too much pepper and he didn't know how to cut the cucumbers.
he's still an amateur, so he'll leave the cooking to you. maybe next time he'll pretend the takeout he grabbed on his way home from school was handmade, though he doubts his friends will ever believe him, or his students after he demands they buy him kikufuku as compensation for leaving him out the night before.
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ignore the ep that came out today! everyone’s alive and well. trust my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !
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messylustt · 9 months
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KAJXJSJX HOBIE WITH “ you look like you’ve got something to say ” & “ kiss me again ”
talk to my cold lips — hobie brown. heheehe. i need him. like need him. bad.
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you were pressing your lips together, tucking your knees up to try and create some warmth for yourself. the air was chilled, your closed window not doing as much as you'd hoped. "you could at least let yourself have a blanket." hobie's voice drifts into the living room, him having crashed the night before.
you lean your head back, rubbing the goosebump covered skin of your shins with rolled down sleeves, creating some much needed friction. "couldn't be bothered." you mutter back, eyes now closed as the cold air tinges your cheeks and nose.
hobie scoffs. and that's when you feel something large and fluffy land right atop your body. opening your eyes you caught sight of the blanket now draped over you, making you shift your gaze to hobie. he's taken a seat beside you. "is that my jumper?" you ask, brows furrowing.
hobie looks down at his body before looking to you. "and is tha’ a blanket i so kindly got for ya?"
despite his words you hug the blanket tighter, looking away, and making him chuckle. "yeah, hobie, thanks mate." he sarcastically states for you.
"i don't say 'mate'." you reply. "yeah ya do." hobie shoots back, shifting slightly on the couch, as he faces you, fingers tapping at his knee.
"when have i ever said 'mate'?" you scoff. "jus' yesterday." hobie's lips curve up in a lazy smirk. "yesterday, really?"
"yeah...in ya sleep." hobie shrugs, hand now having moved to fiddle with the edge of your blanket. "oh." you mockingly say, faking understanding. "right, of course." you lean back against the couch again, shutting your eyes.
"you do realise that would mean that you watched me sleep." you mutter, only earning his lazy tone of denial.
"nah. you just happen to be a very loud talker." when you look back over to him unimpressed his smirk has widened as he looks up at you from under his lashes.
you're caught momentarily, your gaze taking note of his own. you don't mean to let your eyes drop but they do, also taking note of his creamy looking skin, almost glowing in the chilled air, the grey sky outside only forcing him to stand out more. soon your eyes stop on his lips, freshly coated in his spit. you find yourself gulping, unsure.
unbeknownst to you, hobie's gaze also had begun to wander. the only difference being that it had begun all of last night too. things were normal. you offered your place, he accepted, so on, so on. but he'd caught himself staying trapped in eyeing your legs...your waist...your chest...only brief moments could he look at your face until you felt his gaze and turned. leaving him to act distracted in something far more bland than you.
but now, as you met his gaze, he didn't look away, his fingers fiddling with the blanket slowly drawing it closer. "you look like you’ve got something to say." he says, as you notice the blanket's shift.
"you're stealing my blanket." you say a little too quietly. but thats when you feel something else getting tugged. along with the blanket, hobie's fingers found the edge of your shirt. your breathing hitched as you were forced to move along the couch towards him.
soon he's draped part of the blanket over himself, both your legs touching. you gulp, licking your dry lips. you blame the cold. "well? do ya have something to say?"
you go to shake your head, feeling the slightest brush of his fingertips under the blanket, but you stop. "i do actually."
"oh?" his gaze has been a little too focused lower down on your face, him now taking note of your freshly wet lips. "i was going to keep the blanket. for myself."
hobie lazily tilts his head, clear amusement evident in his fluttering gaze. "uh huh."
"and now you've...taken it. so, if you don't mind i'll just..." you go to grab the edge of the blanket that rests over his hips, but this forces you close, hobie's back and forth mind halting as his senses heighten at the proximity.
you go to say something more, along the lines of "even if you did get me the blanket, you are wearing my nice jumper — " but you can barely finish the sentence before hobie's fingers are gripping your shirt tighter, using his free hand to bring you in by the back of your neck, as his lips meet yours.
your body reacts in a mix of a jolt and a stiffen, shock emanating from you. but hobie's tongue glides along your lower lip eagerly, drawing you in impossibly closer as he moves against your mouth.
you find yourself slowly kissing back, his persistent hands creating warm friction against your body, as he grins against your lips. you have to catch your breath, but as you draw back a fraction, mind dazed and core heated, muttering a "hobie..." he's drawing you back in, murmuring against your now open mouth "kiss me again," as he wraps his full lips around your bottom, sucking. teeth and tongues, eager and oh very willing.
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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jiminxoxo · 1 year
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seventeen and their love languages <3
(!!! put as a warning for swearing unless stated otherwise)
choi seungcheol - acts of service + physical touch
so so SO protective oh my god 😭 but his love for you is so pure. no matter how busy his schedule is, he always finds a way to incorporate you. he’ll either make it a point to let you know whenever he’s busy so you’re not waiting up for him or literally tells his manager to pull over when he’s near your house and sprint over to see you for two mere seconds. you say he’s a bit obsessed (of course in a playful way, but also, he really is obsessed) and he always tries to defend himself but eventually let’s himself take the fall. for one, he can never stay mad at you no matter how hard he tries and two, well, you’re you. how can he not be obsessed with you?
“what if i told you i was outside?” he sighs into the phone, kicking a nearby rock and trying his best to bundle himself in this cold cold weather.
“seungcheol?!” you half whisper yet practically exclaim. he’s so unbelievable, but why does it bring the warmest feeling to your cheeks? “what are you doing outside at this time? don’t you have practice right about now?” you place your phone down briefly to wish the leaving customer a good day, only to see your marshmallow of a boyfriend walk in. you make a mental note to thank your lucky stars that there’s no one else on the building.
he’s in his padded jacket with multiple layers underneath. you can barely see his face that’s hidden behind the mask, but the overdramatized outfit is enough for you to tell who it is. it wasn’t that cold out.
“can i get an iced americano?” he pulls the mask down and you chuckle. “and also maybe a date once you’re off work?”
you should be used to this by now. he’s the type of guy to surprise you any chance he gets. “a date?” you repeat, watching as his hand searches for yours from over the counter. he nods, tilting his head the side slightly as if asking you again.
“what do you have planned?” you ask, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. he grins, taking that as a yes.
“i just want to stay in with you today. we don’t have to do anything” he suggests.
you take a second to think, “then nothing it is”
“why is seungkwan cursing at you in the group chat?”
“oh my god, you distracted me” he panics, “i forgot to give him his iced americano”
“oh so this is my fault?”
“of course not honey, i love you”
yoon jeonghan - words of affirmation + quality time
jeonghan is such a delight. your love is so young and playful, never losing its fun. he also knows you alarmingly so well. you’re insecure? he’s right by your side and listing his favourite things about you (with an occasional embarrassing fact about himself here and there because he can’t seem to help himself when it comes to making you feel better). you’re annoyed because he pranked you again? he’s playfully looking at you and telling you that you shouldn’t be surprised anymore. you’re roasting him? he probably roasted you first LMAOOO. words of affirmation via soft roasts 👍 but i think no matter how often he may tease you or joke around, he’s never one to take it too far. he’s so respectful of your boundaries and makes it very clear that your feelings are what matter first to him. communication is so important to him (please don’t make me continue cus I’ll start to violently sob)
“they were totally flirting with you,” you mumble, tossing your keys on the counter. scratch that, more like slamming them. you couldn’t seem to help it though. not when your boyfriend couldn’t figure out why exactly you were upset.
“darling they weren’t flirting, they were just being friendly” he reasons after shrugging his jacket off, now fiddling with his watch. normally you’d help him take it off, but you’d rather watch him struggle to unclip it from across the room.
“friendly.” you scoff, finally caving in and helping him take off his stupid watch, actively trying to avoid eye contact with your stupid boyfriend who’s looking at you with a stupid smile—
“are you…. jealous?” he’s grinning.
you roll your eyes, giving him a light shove. “no,”
“you totally are!” he’s practically beaming now. you were never one to get jealous. he figured it was because you trusted him, and you do. but in all honesty, he’s never given you a reason to be jealous. not until today. “you know i never would have even noticed right? i may have been talking to someone else, but you were on my mind the whole time. you have absolutely nothing to worry about, honey. i honestly didn’t even know you could even get jealous considering how loyal i am-“
“shut up,” you mutter, attempting to walk away but ultimately being pulled back to face him once again.
“make me.” he teases, holding up his pinky, “i promise i won’t tell anyone that you were jealous”
“you’re an idiot,” you say, stepping forward into his embrace, to which he happily sways the both of you side to side.
“you’re lucky i didn’t even realize they were flirting with me,” he starts waddling the both of you to the couch, “otherwise i would’ve accidentally exposed our relationship.”
“you totally wouldn’t have,”
“you’re right, i wouldn’t.” he laughs, “i’m saving that announcement for our marriage”
“jeonghan!”
!!! joshua hong - gift giving + quality time
sigh. he doesn’t call himself a gentleman for no reason. dating him is straight up like it’s from a movie. he’s attentive and just overall so respectful to not only you but to your relationship as well. he doesn’t even try to make your relationship seem so picture-perfect, it all just comes naturally. ofc there are gonna be bumps in the road but he’s always going to remind you that he’d rather fight and try to work it out with you than move onto somebody else. he thinks you’re worth every hardship. he allows himself to break down every barrier whenever you're around, just letting him be himself. is he perfect? no. will there be bumps in the road? probably lmao. but will he fight like hell to make sure you know that his heart belongs to you? damn straight.
“it’s rude to stare, you know,” you start, eyes not even leaving the magazine you were flipping through. you could feel his piercing gaze from a mile away.
his chuckle is heard from the other end of the bed as he ventures closer to you, your once comfy position is now maneuvered for the both of you to view the catalogue in your hands.
“staring? more like admiring.”
you roll your eyes, putting the magazine down briefly. his eyes are playful as they stare down at you, while you return his gaze with a really? that’s all you got?
“what? i can’t admire my fiancé?” he sighs while leaning closer to you, never letting himself get tired of that word. fiancé. it just has the best ring to it, especially knowing that you’re his and he’s yours.
“not when they’re trying to decide on something that will make or break the marriage,” you retort, pushing his face that was inching closer to yours away to view the catalogue once again.
“since when did the floral arrangements decide the course of our marriage?” he’s dumbstruck. leave it up to you to keep him on his toes.
“they don’t. i was just testing you to see if you actually cared about what i was looking at.” you’re laughing at the playful look of hurt on his face. “i’m kidding, you’re probably stressing over the flowers more than i am.”
“maybe,” he shrugs, slipping out of your warm embrace. he’s shuffling around the room for a bit, finally deciding to stand beside you with his hands hidden behind him, “or maybe what matters more to me right now is that you like these flowers?” he whips out a bouquet from behind him. how he even managed to sneak them into the room is beyond you.
“oh my god,” you breathe, “fuck the flowers at the reception, this is definitely more important right now.”
“you know, i think you’re the prettiest-“
“if you say i’m the prettiest flower josh, i swear to god the wedding is off.”
wen junhui - quality time + words of affirmation
i think it’s safe to say that I probably had the hardest time figuring out what sort of love language he is. not only is he the literal definition of the word love, but he also just has the purest of souls. this is your world and he is just living in it. the type of guy to raise a boombox over his head outside your window to confess his dying love to you... :( also probably kicks his legs back and forth while texting you or something LMAOOOOOO his favourite moment with you, you may ask? probably when he’s teaching you to dance one of their choreographies. you’re shy and definitely a bit clumsy but he can’t help but he absolutely enchanted by you (and in his words, ‘put hoshi to shame’) just loves the fact that you’re interested in something he loves. it doesn’t take much to make him happy to be honest, so you don’t even have to try. you being there makes him over the moon.
“its late,” you remind him, glancing at the clock on your microwave. “you should sleep now,” you’re on the phone with your boyfriend who’s just flown out of the country and back within the last 9 hours, never mind all the schedules inbetween. anyone would be exhausted.
he’s not complaining though, he never does. if anything, he’d rather stay on the phone with you than rest. “says the person who’s still up, trying to finish the thesis for class.”
you roll your eyes as you finish making your sandwich. he’s got a point, but you’d never admit that. “shut up,” you retort before taking a bite. once you finish putting the ingredients away, you head back to your room.
he’s smiling on the other side of the line, knowing fully well that you don’t have an argument against him. “are you almost done?” he asks, silently signalling a thank you to his manager who was willing to drive him over at this time. he exits the car and makes his way to the entrance of the building. the faster he gets to you, the faster he can convince you to shut your laptop off and head to bed.
he knows you’d never listen to him if he wasn’t physically there beside you. it was exasperating at first but overtime he came to realize that your thick skull actually made your relationship just that much stronger. after all, he drove over just to surprise you, didn’t he?
“almost,” you sigh, adjusting your glasses. “this thesis is a pain in the ass. it’s taken every living cell in my body to not curse my prof out. who assigns a gazillion word thesis and expects it to be done in a day and a half?”
he chuckles, exiting the elevator and heads straight to you apartment. “someone who clearly isn’t scared of your wrath. by the way, can you open the door?”
you halt your typing and stare at your phone placed beside your laptop. surely you didn’t hear him correctly… right?
“yes, i’m really here,” he doesn’t hear you as you hurriedly jump out of your chair, stumbling your way across your apartment. “and.. maybe im a bit tired. so i would really appreciate it if you open the d—“
you’re swinging the door open before he could finish his sentence, “you’re here,” you exhale, accepting him into your embrace.
“always. and i’m also taking you straight to bed. why are you looking at me like that? we’re going to sleep!”
!!! + brief mentioning of alcohol
kwon soonyoung - words of affirmation + gift giving
your very very personal hypeman!! always uplifting you whenever you’re feeling even just a teeny bit insecure. i see him as being a spontaneous gift giver. i mean, have you seen his wardrobe?? will spoil you rotten with the most lavish gifts. that being said, he didn’t get you these gifts for the materialistic aspect, but he just wants you to know that he (pardon me) fucking adores you and wants you to know he will go extreme measures to show you. i think he would have a hard time expressing the right words on how he actually feels about you. (you both can tell he feels a lot, it’s just the matter of how he would form it into words is what he can’t seem to do) but there's one thing for sure, this boy is a SIMP. he is a simp and will admit it to anyone proudly.
if someone were to ask you what the most memorable dates with him were, you’d simply answer with:
sneaking out to your backyard late at night and watching as his eyes glimmer with happiness while lighting the fireworks (and almost getting caught when your neighbour barges out his door, searching for the culprit)
surprising him at one of his tour stops
winding down for the night after a particularly hard day and basking in each others company (technically not a date but hey, it counts)
if he had to answer that same question, his answers would be:
dragging you to the zoo and — ding ding ding! — taking you to the tiger sanctuary
drunkenly singing love songs to each other at karaoke… in front of the rest of the boys
introducing you to said boys
unanimously, it’s decided that your first date is hard to beat in terms of favourites.
he isn’t sure why he had even thought of suggesting to go hiking for your first date but is equally as surprised when you had reluctantly agreed.
the first 40 minute hike up was filled with lots of curses in his direction, to which he blissfully ignores due to the fact that you were holding his hand. how can he pay attention when all of it is zeroed in on the fact that he's telling him brain to not get his hand clammy?
the hike down was unfortunately the problem though. after foolishly suggesting to race down the hill, (he can’t even defend himself at this point) you had agreed, only because you wanted to wipe that smug look off his face. after a moment where you swore you were beating him, you didn’t see a tree branch on the ground and stepped down a bit funny resulting in even more cursing but for a completely different reason.
it was all a blur. him panicking, you clutching your ankle for dear life and him panicking even more after seeing how quickly it was starting to swell. after a quick visit to the ER and a pinky promise to never mention this date to anyone ever, he spent the remainder of the day piggybacking you around all the spots he had still planned for the date.
despite all that though, you had still decided to go on another date with him. hell, you had decided to be exclusive with him.
it was all oddly charming in a way, and you could have never asked for a better date.
hiking is still banned though.
jeon wonwoo - quality time + acts of service
type of lover who is simply there for you with no words needed. a comforting love that's filled with quiet hand holding and blushing as you gaze into each others eyes. he's patient, letting you let out your spur of the moment thoughts while he sits back and admires, constantly thinking to himself that he could never love and adore anyone as much as he does you. his inner extrovertedness definitely comes out when you're around - he allows himself to feel giddy like a teenage schoolgirl falling for her first crush. also, this is my personal opinion - he is very protective over you. if not, the most protective compared to the rest of the boys. 1. you’re his. 2. he doesn’t really like to share. 3. there is no three. sunshine (you) and sunshine protector (him) type beat (get it? because you're his sunshine)
the hype around the first snowfall of the year had always been a bit frivolous to you. as you walk down the rather busy road to head back to your warm apartment, you pass by dozens of couples who are buzzing at the unexpected flakes falling from the sky.
you sigh, thinking of your own lover who would’ve totally agreed with your comment. if someone’s love will last, it has nothing to do with a first snowfall… right?
wonwoo was set to come home in a couple of weeks. that you could tolerate, but the thought of him having to bundle up more than the average person in this specific weather once he’s gets home leaves a pang in your heart. before you know it, your fingers are navigating through your phone to a familiar contact.
you - it’s snowing back home… i hope it’s not too cold where you are
he’s not the best texter, but to your surprise, he replies to your message right away.
him - It’s snowing where I am too.
you let out a snort at his short yet blunt text. again, he’s not the best texter but he definitely tries his best.
pocketing your phone, you turn the last corner you need to, your apartment building now in sight. you figured calling him would be better, but you’d rather do that once you’re settled and comfortable at home.
until it dawned on you.
you - it’s snowing in jakarta right now?
he reads your message but doesn’t respond causing your heart to speed up in pace. there’s absolutely no way.
after practically sprinting to your door, you stop to catch your breath quickly in front of it. it’s okay. you’ll call him and confirm where he is. if he’s home - which you’re trying not to think about too much so you’re not too disappointed if he wasn’t - you’ll bus to where he was. or maybe you could uber?
“hey.” you hadn’t even noticed your door swinging open, revealing your boyfriend dressed in his padded jacket.
you gawk at him, pushing his shoulder with a shout, “i cannot believe you fooled me!”
“i told you we were busy this morning,” he laughs, grabbing your arm to pull you into his embrace.
“busy as in at the airport and on a plane?” he lets out another breathless laugh as you look at him in disbelief, “wait, where are you taking me?”
as you finish your last sentence, he’s already ushering you out a little further and closes the door behind him, leading you to the elevator. “its the first snow,” he says once you’ve finally made it outside. “i know what you’re thinking. the first snow isn’t an accurate representation of how long we’ll be in love, and i know we’ll be in love for a long time, snow or not. but i don’t care, i want to spend it with you.”
you’re not sure if it’s the sincerity of his voice that causes you to blush or the fact that he’s so confident in his feelings. there’s one thing you’re sure of though.
jeon wonwoo is the embodiment of the feeling people get when the first snow happens. an airy sort of feeling, excitement and.. love.
so yeah, it’s kind of hard not to love the first snowfall when wonwoo was with you.
lee jihoon - quality time + gift giving
😭😭😭!! jihoon is just so…… !!!!! definitely has a hard time expressing how he feels about you, but it’s so consuming that he has to let it out somehow. in my eyes, he’s a gift giver (and just lover in general) in the form of music. he’ll do small things like hum certain songs that remind him of you when you’re around to making playlists for your five hour road trip to literally writing a whole album about you (will he ever show it to you? maybe. will he literally spend many hours making it and creating the cover art because he’s just that passionate about your relationship? absolutely.) he gets a bit carried away but he can never seem to help it, he’s absolutely whipped for you, and when he’s in love he’s in LOVE
“one second, wait here” you say, jumping up from your comfy position in front of him and leaving him with a questioning look on his face. you seem a bit eager compared to your previous complaints about being exhausted.
to be fair, he never was one to like celebrating birthdays. he likes to keep the gathering as small as possible (but definitely doesn’t mind the presents). it’s more genuine that way he thinks, him surrounded by all the people he truly loves is something he much rather prefers.
it’s late into the night and probably past his birthday at this point, the two of you just returning from his birthday dinner that was held with some of his dear friends and family. he’s quiet- with a lingering smile playing on his lips- but happy.
after a couple minutes without you retuning, he lets out a small scoff. you’re definitely up to no good. “one second my ass” he chuckles to himself.
he’s about to get up from the bed, but is stopped when a soft light illuminates the room and he’s face to face with your bashful smile.
you’re there. standing in front of him with a cake that was probably made from scratch and softly singing him happy birthday. he can’t seem to bring out any words after you’re done. you’re peering at him and quietly telling him to make a wish, but what more does he need to wish for? he has everything he needs right in front of him. he hesitates for a second but complies, wishing for absolutely nothing to ever change.
he finally understands. he’s sang to you millions of times and you’ve never failed to remind him how much you love his voice. he thought you were just saying that to say it, but after listening to you sing with the softness and comfortability with just the two of you there, he could listen to you sing for hours.
“happy birth- I just realized what time it is. I didn’t really think this through did i? whatever. happy birthday jihoon, I love you” you’re both laughing, love just radiating off one another. this is the best birthday he could’ve ever asked for.
lee seokmin - literally all 5
first off i want to apologize to all the seokmin stans out there because i just know you want to beat me up through the internet right now. he’s just!!! so!!!! lovely!!!! just a ☀️💗💖 type of person. he himself confirmed words of affirmation (surprise surprise) but who is he kidding??? that man is the literal embodiment of all the love languages. he’s always reminding you how loveable you are, especially in the moments where your insecurities are getting the best of you. he will show you love in its purest form, and will never ever let you forget that you mean the world to him.
you can feel his eyes on you as you comfortably sit beside him, placing your legs over his. “so i was thinking,” he starts, tapping his finger on his chin.
oh no. nothing good ever happens when he starts with that. “yes?” you hum, tearing your gaze away from the tv to focus all your attention on him.
“i know you’ve met the members before, but do you think, maybe, i can meet your friends and family and you can meet mine?” he stumbles over a few words and starts playing with your hands to busy himself. “i love you. and honestly, i just want all the important people in my life to meet you and adore you as much as i do.” he pauses before letting out a chuckle, “well, maybe a bit less, because i adore you the most.”
you’re quiet. it’s not that you don’t want him to meet your loved ones because god, of course you do, but how are you supposed to explain that you want to keep him in this little bubble?
this bubble of love and joy. you know it’s selfish, wanting to hide him away from the world and just let the two of you be the two of you. without the judgement of anyone else. dokyeom is a very understanding person and has never once judged you. so why is this so hard to admit to him?
his eyes are patient as they gaze at you. he’s trying to read the expression on your face but it doesn’t seem to work, “of course, if this is something you’re not comfortable with, we can always reintroduce it down the road,”
you shake your head, removing your hand from his to hold his cheek. his eyes close as he leans into your touch. “i’d love to meet your friends and family, seok,” you whisper, connecting your foreheads together, “i was scared at first because i don’t like the thought of people having their assumptions about our relationship but i can see this is really important to you,” you pull back to look at him. he who is looking at you like you could rearrange the stars in the sky. “and i just realized that the only opinion i should care about is ours.”
“you know what? let’s just stay like this for a bit,” his eyes are understanding as he inches a bit closer to you, almost as if he can’t seem to help it, “i want to keep you to myself for a little longer. just you and me.”
“are you sure?” you ask only because his conclusion is so vastly different from his initial proposal. “we’ve been dating for the last couple months and my friends have definitely been nagging at me to meet my boyfriend that I keep talking about”
“i’m sure.” he seals it with a peck to your lips, “besides, your comfortability is what matters most to me. if your friends love you, they’ll understand,” he says, “but they better not love you more than I do…”
kim mingyu - physical touch + words of affirmation (confirmed) + acts of service (confirmed)
two words. puppy. love. he’s just….. so down bad for you, need i say more? if you give him a piece of your heart, he will give you the world type of relationship. with mingyu, there is never a dull moment. constantly laughing with each other and allowing your inner child to heal with him in your presence. is a simp and is PROUD about it... but also tries to deny it? its funny, because everyone knows damn well what kind of lover he is. super sweet, super affectionate, maybe a little immature... you know it, he knows it, his members sure as hell knows it. but the second they try to tease him, he's denying all their allegations. he doesn't really want them knowing that you're his soft spot in human form - after all, they'd just use it to their advantage - but from the way he glances so dotingly at you, is he really fooling anyone?
“is that my hoodie?” he’s grinning as he widens the door just a smidge to lean against the doorframe.
you know he’s getting a kick out of this and you let him have his moment before adding, “gyu, you asked me to wear it,”
he shushes you while taking your arm to guide you in and shutting the door behind you. “thanks for coming,” he softly says and watches as you cross the room to sit on the couch.
again, you let him have his moment before turning to face him with an exasperated look, “well, i figured it was the least i could do after you texted ‘SOS’ to me about a hundred times,”
he lets out a hearty laugh as he sits beside you, completely unashamed of his tactics to get you here. “in all seriousness though,” he rises, presenting his hand in front of your face for you to grab, “i made a new dish to try and i want to know what you think.”
once you join your hands together, he drags the both of you to the kitchen, letting you take a seat while he places the finishing touches to your dish.
he’s watching you as you eat, eyes shining while you continuously compliment him on his culinary skills across the table. getting up, he ditches his food — not that he had even touched his plate in the first place — and ventured around the table, dragging a chair a bit closer in your direction just to plop beside you. he places his arm on the table and rests his chin on his hand, “tell me more,” he quietly murmurs, lifting his free hand to softly brush some hair away from your face.
you gently place your fork down on your plate and grab a tissue to dab your mouth. finding your actions oddly adorable, he moves to wrap his hand around the arm of your chair just to draw you closer. “well,” you start, “you know i love your cooking. you’re so talented, gyu. i don't know how you managed to get these ingredients that are amazing on their own and made them into something special together.”
he beams at your comment. “i think you just described us perfectly,”
you tilt your head, just a little confused on what he meant.
grabbing your hand, he presses a chaste kiss to your palm before lifting it to his cheek just for him to lean on. he closes his eyes, savouring this moment before adding, “great on their own. something special when together.”
-
"can i be the truffle or something?"
"eh, you're more of a raw onion if i had to choose- ow!"
xu minghao - quality time + gift giving (confirmed) + acts of service (confirmed)
don’t even let me get started on this man. he is 100% written by a woman, i cannot stress this enough. the amount of love he would hold for you is ridiculous - there are tears streaming down my cheeks as i write this btw. so in tune with his emotions and probably so attentive to yours as well. i know the words of affirmation and acts of service are confirmed (💔) but i personally feel so strongly about the quality time part. many of your nights consist of just basking in each others presence and just straight serenity. i can’t express into words on how magical your relationship would feel. xu minghao has the most beautiful heart and yours is definitely safe with him.
“do you ever feel like,” you pause as he tilts his head down ever so slightly to gaze softly at you, “i don’t know, that you’re so burnt out and there’s nothing that can help you?”
you’re both laying down in bed with your limbs tangled under the sheets. between both your schedules, it’s near impossible to have moments like these. domestic moments that you’ve come to miss even while he’s beside you right now. it’s the crack of dawn and you’ve only been together like this for mere minutes, it’s never long enough though.
he nods before squeezing you lightly against him. “all the time.” he sighs, “especially when i know that i’m unable to see you for a while,”
“me too,” you agree. your relationship is anything but needy. you both appreciate your independence, but it’d also be a big fat lie if you said being apart from him was a nice feeling. over the years, the two of you had found your ways to make it work, but the longing is always there whenever you’re apart. “when do you have to go?” you ask, leaning over to take a look at the clock behind you.
“did you really have to remind me that our time together right now is super limited?” he teases, softly pulling you back into his embrace.
“when is it not?” you say with a chuckle. you’re only joking and he knows that, but he can’t help but feel guilty as he analyzes you. your mood had definitely gone down just a bit after a moment of silence.
“do you think they’d believe me if i called in sick?” he’s poking at your side to hopefully lighten up the mood. when his attempt is successful and he sees your smile, he mentally gives himself a pat on the back.
“cheol would have your head if you’re late to practice,”
“if i were late to practice, it’s not seungcheol who i would be scared of to be honest..”
you hum while tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “hoshi,” you both say in unison before letting out hushed laughter.
as you settle down, he brushes some hair away from your face, his expression morphing into something more sincere. “thank you for always begging patient with me and my schedule. i feel like i would’ve given up a long time ago if you weren’t around.”
“good thing i’m staying then,” you hum before adding, “watching you do what you love makes me insanely proud. i don’t care about your schedule, even if it allows us only twenty minutes every four days.”
“speak for yourself-“ he’s interrupted when his phone obnoxiously blasts his alarm tone, indicating that your time together is now up. to your surprise, he gets up only to snooze it and goes to lay back down beside you, closing his eyes for a bit.
feeling your questioning gaze on him, he peeks an eye open to look at you and decides to hide himself in the crook of your neck, “hoshi wouldn’t believe me if i said i was sick,” his voice is muffled, but you can hear the mischief in it, “but he’d believe me if i said i slept in.”
boo seungkwan - words of affirmation + gift giving
omfg. this man. not only is he your best friend, but he’s your personal hype man who is somehow still so shy at telling you how much you mean to him. definitely an old couple type of love with your fair share of old couple bantering. i think it’s quite adorable. man,,,,, HES adorable 😭😭😭 the type of gift giver where he can think of the most obscene reason on why you have to have it. a random bottle opener? pretty sure yours broke seven months ago. a backpack? this one has a tangerine charm on it!!! definitely gets defensive when you tell him to save his money and yet throws the biggest fit when you get him something nice in return. prepare to lose every playful argument the two of you have, that unless, he lets you win (never admitting the fact that he is so down bad that he’d do anything to see you with that winning smile)
seungkwan definitely likes to catch you by surprise, especially after his visits to his hometown.
he’s unloading his suitcase in your shared bedroom having just returned from his trip back home for the weekend. the glow on his cheeks is something truly special, and you have the pleasure of seeing it while he raves of his time back in jeju.
“so my mom made me haul this large bag of tangerines over to you.” he says, a little disapprovingly at that. the more you think about it, the more that you think the act of gift giving may run in his family. “wanna share?”
you scoff, snatching the bag he was holding to hide behind your back. “you’ve had enough tangerines in your lifetime. this bag is mine.”
eyes wide, he points an accusing finger in your direction. “you wouldn’t have that if it weren’t for me!”
sticking out a finger of your own, you start running before he could catch you, knowing how riled up he could get. your attempt to run is sadly not fast enough since he’s already latched onto you and poking jabs at your most ticklish spots. he can’t help but laugh along, drinking up the noises bubbling out of your chest.
-
“thank you for the bag of tangerines. seungkwan said you made him haul a huge bag just for me.” you say to his mom over the video call, watching as her warm smile morphs into a knowing one.
“honey, i may have gotten him to bring them to you, but it was all him.”
you blink, turning your face to look at his sleeping figure. tomorrow would be back to reality for him. you had suggested that him sleeping early tonight would be best since it wasn’t necessarily something he had the luxury of doing everyday. he put up a fight at first; insisting that he wanted to spend more time with you, but it’s not even ten minutes later when you see him snoozing away after you had slipped out of the room to fetch him some tea.
“all him?” you repeat.
“the day he was set to leave, he woke up extra early to beat everyone to the market. he’ll deny it if you ask, but i know he went to pick the best ones for you. i may have suggested for him to bring a couple, but he insisted on filling a large bag since they’re your favourite.”
you blink again, not expecting the sudden confession.
“he loves you, you know.” she softly adds, watching you through the screen as you tenderly gaze at her son. “there wasn’t one day where he didn’t talk about you.”
what she doesn’t know, is that you watch as a light blush dust his cheeks. stroking his hair, you glance back to the screen, knowing seungkwan would’ve been too shy to say anything if he were awake so you let him believe the thought of you thinking he was still asleep.
you’re proven wrong when his hand gently grabs yours, giving it a tight squeeze. an action that is worth a thousand words.
!!! vernon chwe - quality time + words of affirmation
being in a relationship with this man is probably the most secure relationship you will ever be in, no if ands or buts. not only is he literally just the chillest mf to ever live, he also enjoys life to the fullest. activities with him could literally vary by the hour depending on his mood. vernon is always reminding you to be grateful for what you have, (cue him constantly telling you how thankful he is for you and how you mean so much to him). the two of you would absolutely have a best friend sort of relationship, and he just adores it.
there’s a comfortable silence between the two of you as he drives you home from the small gathering you both attended. he’s softly humming, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel every so often and you— well, you’re watching him. not in a hey-i’m-a-creeper way but more of a hey-i’m-actually-so-whipped-for-you sort of way.
his eyes are glued to the road but he knows. he has to know. you’re just sitting there blatantly staring at him but he makes no sign of uneasiness. in fact, he reaches blindly for your hand after a bit, using your intertwined hands to drum the middle console.
he’s cranking up the volume with a lopsided smile the second he hears your laughter, just in love with the fact that it’s so easy to make you happy. having nothing but the smallest clue that what really is making you happy are these little moments with him.
“really?” you’re snickering as soon as the next song plays. “baby by justin bieber?”
“yeah, really.” he glances at you for a second before returning them back on the road, his hand giving yours a light squeeze. “what, it’s not in your love songs playlist?”
“isn’t this song about his partner not loving him back?” you’re now on your phone, analyzing the lyrics that are indeed about his broken heart.
vernon on the other side is left speechless. how is he supposed to move on from the fact that his number one love song is actually not a love song? he’s probably sang it hundreds of times and half the time, you were there right beside him singing with him. his best memories lie with this song.
what the hell is he supposed to do now?
“don’t worry baby,” of course you call him that at a time like this. “we can still sing this at karaoke to each other while your voice cracks every so often”
“hey!” he lets go of your hand to point a playful finger at you, “i’ll have you know, i was singing an adlib that was out of my vocal range and my voice has only cracked once.”
you roll your eyes, not even attempting to fight back with him. in the years the two of you have been dating, by now you know better than to get him heated over (arguably) the greatest hit of the early 21st century.
“it’s okay,” he says after another short minute of silence, listening as the song rolls to an end and grabbing your hand once again, “we’re nothing like this song, right?”
you grin, “not even in the slightest.”
thank god.
lee chan - physical touch + acts of service (confirmed)
literal definition of young love. this man no doubt will always keep you smiling and laughing (like literally his first instinct when he sees that you’re upset is to make you smile, he can’t bear it when you’re sad). it’s also the way he says his love language is writing???? yup you’ll never hear from me again lmao. its refreshing to think that he would most definitely try to win you over using old-school tactics. walking to your door on your first date and meeting your parents briefly (who by the way, probably love him more than you do). chan is definitely a person with soooo much love to give and never EVER let’s you forget that it’s all yours to have. </3
it’s official, you hate your home. okay, maaaaybe that’s a small stretch..
you hate that your home is thousands of miles from your boyfriend.
after returning home from the tear filled car ride from the airport, you trudge your way across your apartment, not even bothering to clean up the mess that was left behind a couple hours prior. it’s where you and chan had made your last breakfast for a while together, and the thought of it made a new wave of tears fill your eyes.
as you head to your room, you find yourself catching small glimpses of your boyfriend and the mere memories he left here. how is it fair that he managed to squeeze his way into your heart and is able to take a little bits and pieces every time you’re apart? cheesy, you think, but true.
after reaching your room, you notice an envelope on top of your neatly made bed. it’s weird, because you definitely recall not having the time to make your bed this morning… oh chan. you let out a shaky sigh and pick it up, mentally preparing yourself for what’s about to come.
Hi my bunny, I hope you’re doing okay.
By the time you see this, I’m probably boarding my flight. This never gets easier, does it? I miss you already.
In the two years that we’ve been together, I’ve felt nothing but happiness but also have never experienced such heartbreak. I hate seeing you cry and I hate missing you. But most of all, I hate the distance. No matter how hard it gets, loving you is the easiest thing about all of this and loving you is worth it.
We’ll be together again sometime soon and I hope the thought of that is enough for you to keep going because it definitely is for me. I can’t wait for the day where we don’t have to worry about the stupid distance anymore, where we can just love each other and not think about anything else.
You’re my favourite person and the absolute light of my life. I can’t wait to have you in my arms again.
I love you I love you I love you.
Yours, Chan
damn it, you wipe your tears messily and hug the letter close to your heart, allowing yourself to let out a small sob. maybe you don’t hate your home after all. in fact, you love your home. he’s your home.
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Text
petrigrof family headcanons
Simon:
When Marcy gets sick he often stops after work to pick up a little present
Lets Marcy have too many sweets
Makes up funny songs about something like washing the dishes to make Marceline giggle
Can't use the GPS
Uses funny words instead of swears when Marceline's listening ("oh breadballs, oh breadballs, oh breadballs") (this one is implied canon)
Every once in a while will drop some insane piece of 'Simon lore' as Marcy likes to call it, particularly when she gets older, such as, "Oh yeah, I was big into wrestling when I was in highschool, I dislocated the principal's elbow," to which Marceline often asks "WHERE WAS THIS PIECE OF INFORMATION MY WHOLE LIFE???"
Ironically, in a timeline where he never found the crown, he likes to play in the snow with Marceline...
Betty:
The stricter of the two
She and Simon occasionally argue late into the night--about whether or not Pluto is a planet (Simon says yes, Betty says no, Simon keeps trying to jokingly convince Marcy to side with him)
Likes to have stuff like school/activities planned out, on the calendar, etc., works best with a physical schedule
If Marcy expresses interest in something, even if Betty's never heard of it, she'll enable it to the best of her abilities and do research and just be super supportive (she hated hard metal into Marceline got into it)
Can use GPS
Simon is more inclined to keep Marceline safe, while Betty encourages independence and autonomy and learning to use freedom responsibly
Makes good hot cocoa
Cautions Marcy to be careful on the Internet a lot. It's just a fixation of hers
Taught Marceline how to punch properly
And make her own meals because again, she wants Marcy to know how to be independent if necessary
Marcy:
Knows she can get more sweets/later bedtime/etc. from Simon and takes full advantage of that
Doesn't actually care whether or not Pluto is a planet but constantly confirms and withdraws her opinions to mess with Simon
Falls asleep cuddling Hambo wrapped up in cozy blankets and sheets, Simon and Betty often sing lullabies (and, especially Simon, read her way more than one bedtime story)
Learns the ukulele
Likes it when Betty brushes her hair
Was bad at math at a young age and asked Simon for help; now she's doing much better but continues pretending to be terrible, again, to mess with Simon
Happy, not traumatized
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satrs · 10 months
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𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘯! PART 1
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SYNOPSIS; random moments of the bllk men with their children!
FEATURING; BACHIRA MEGURU. MICHAEL KAISER. ITOSHI RIN. BAROU SHOEI.
TAGS; kids(duhhh). fluffffff. mention of marrige.
WORD COUNT; 1.1k
ᥲ/ᥒ ꜝꜝ ✎UHHHH YEA THIS WILL PROBABLY BECOME A SERIES LOL. Feel free to send in ideas/request for this<§§ (URGHHH I LITERALLY LOVE THEM)
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BACHIRA MEGURU & EIKO
"Meguru! Eiko! Move it!" You were growing more irritated with every passing minute because of your little family. Your six-year-old  daughter Eiko and her father, who also happened to be your loving husband, were taking forever to get ready.
You got invited to your mother-in-law's for dinner today, but you were sure that you would arrive late if those rascals didn't get moving. 
Meguru offered to take it upon himself to dress your doting daughter up, giving you the time and space to get ready yourself. But oh boy, you should've done it yourself. 
"Oh no, it seems like mommy is getting angry. We should hurry up", Meguru snickered, tons of giggles filling the room with him, Eiko. He had already dressed her up nicely- some dungarees with a yellow shirt, matching his and was meanwhile putting on her shoes. 
They turned their attention to the figure standing at the door, a warning look on the young woman's face. "What even is that Meguru", you mentioned, motioning your hand from him to your daughter. "You can't go out like that."
A big pout was visible on your husband's face, your daughter joining right in, similar bright yellow orbs staring up at you. "Why not? We are twinning!" Meguru lovingly pinched Eiko's nose, a joyful giggle erupting out of her. 
"Why not mommy! I want to match with daddy!" He playfully snickered at that, lifting his daughter up in his arms and making his way towards the door with her. "Mommy is just jealous she's not in our club." Megurus playful manner made a small smirk creep up your face. "Excuse me?"
"You heard him!", Eiko said in a dramatic tone.  You admitted defeat with a loud sigh, a smile on your lips as you saw your family happily step out of your shared home.
She sure was a cheeky parent's child, always glued to his side no matter what.
MICHAEL KAISER & LINA
There was no word that could describe the things he was feeling at that moment, holding his newborn daughter in his arms, seated right next to her exhausted form on the hospital bed. 
She was here. Finally, 
All his previous worries and fears flying out the window, his whole body filled with joy and happiness, but most of all- love. He realized the moment he lay eyes on this little baby, making herself visible to the whole wide world, that he would do anything for her. 
It was really a sight to see- your usually confident and cocky lover now fighting with his tears as he carefully placed his finger into the small palm of the newborn. He looked up at you, eyes full of love and adoration. "What should we name this angel?", you asked, a lovestruck smile finding its way onto Michael's lips. 
Angel do you say? Well, he got an idea. "Lina.", he said, holding his daughter closer to him while softly stroking her head. Lina was a German name which meant 'little angel'. And Lina truly was his and your little angel. 
You flashed him an exhausted but loving smile at the sound of the name, your hand reaching out in an attempt to pull both of them closer to you. Kaiser complied, carefully laying Lina in your arms as he sat down next to you on the bed, doting you and her with kisses. 
"Hello Lina", you said, placing a big kiss on your baby's temple. Kaiser's big arm him wrapped around you, pulling him both of you closer to him. "My lovely girl. Love you both so much." 
And as you saw shining pearls of tears roll down his face, you saw your all's future in his eyes.
ITOSHI RIN & CHIKAO AND CHIMON
"No. Say Da da." both of the toddlers were seated in the highchair, waiting impatiently for you to bring them their beloved baby porridge.  Rin couldn't believe it as he heard Chikao say 'mama' and chimon 'ma' right after, happy but clearly displeased with the fact that they didn't say 'daddy', not even one of them.
"mamaaaa!", Chiako returned back at Rin, a loud and demanding voice, shocking the father right away. He sighed, but his eyes lighted up as he heard Chimon's next words. "Da." 
"Yes! Da da. Say it!" But Chikao turned his attention to you as he noticed you placed their food in front of them. "C'mon Rin. Don't be a bad loser. They'll say it one day." You went over to Chikao, lifting the spoon up to feed him. He just huffed in annoyance at your lecture, sitting in front of Chimon doing the same.
"And when? Sae is non-stop teasing me about it." You laughed at that, the image of your partner frowning while your brother-in-law picked on him a humorous thought. 
"Well, Chimon at least tried", he stated, raising his eyebrow at Chikao as he moved the spoon to his mouth, "unlike you little guy."
Chikao remained unbothered, the same static expression on his face like his father him, causing him to giggle. Suddenly, Chimon began to laugh cutely, smashing his hand on the table. "Sa sa!" Chikao was quick to follow him, making the same movement and saying the same word his twin brother did. 
Rin was flabbergastered as he realized they meant to say 'Sae', widening in shock. "Oh, so you and uncle are on the same team, huh?", he stated laughed showing no sign of stopping and soon, signs joined in. 
He couldn't help but let a smile creep up his lips as he saw you- his family so happy and joyful, looking forward to more days filled with laughter to come. 
BAROU SHOEI & RENHO
"Not like that. You need to do it like this princess."
It was a sight to see, really. Shoei and your little girl take care of the household. He had the apron you once bought for him as a gag, which read 'Big chef‘, while your daughter had a 'Lil' chef' one.
"Like this?", your five-year-old daughter questioned her father, earning a small smile from him followed by a nod. You cooed at the scene before you, causing both your chefs to turn around, their faces frowning at your pouty face. "Stop it mommy, we are working!", your daughter snapped, a surprised gasp, leaving you and Shoei at the loudness of your daughter's voice.
"Don't snap at your mom like that", Shoei's words made you smile a bit, but your smile soon disappeared at his next words. "But she's right. Stop with that all cutie look." It was your turn to frown, a dramatic huff escaping your lips.
"Alright. Since I'm disturbing you," you said, strolling over to the fridge, earning both of their attention,"I'll just eat this pudding all by myself." 
They both simultaneously turned their heads towards your direction, a loud 'No!' coming from both of them. You chuckled at their reaction, placing the pudding right back into the fridge before walking to Shoei and Renho. 
"Just kidding. We'll eat that after your delicious meal, yeah?" With that, you gave the both of them a kiss on their temple before leaving the two five-star-chefs to concentrate on their dish.

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ᵃˡˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ k-azus.°
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lookismfanfics · 6 months
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𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬
Just some cute fluff. Eugene • Jake • Hudson
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𝐄𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞
🝮 He enjoys the feeling of your fingers intertwined.
🝮 He has a habit of folding his hands behind his back. It’s either that or resting them together on a table.
🝮 It’s a comfortable position for him. He never realized it felt even better to hold some else’s hand.
🝮 The warm tingle when your fingers brushed into his palm was something he looked forward to.
🝮 Never in public. Always in private.
🝮 Sitting down with you after a long day, resting his eyes, cradling your hands with his
🝮 That’s an ideal situation for Eugene. He couldn’t ask for much more.
🝮 He enjoys holding your hand up to his cheek, letting you caress his face. Sneaking small kisses against your fingers. Never letting go of your hand.
🝮 You’re probably the only one that can tell… but it doesn’t change the fact that Eugene is down bad for you. It also doesn’t change the fact that he’s touch starved in a way and hates to admit it… but holding your hand is the tiny amount of contact that he tolerates and enjoys-
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𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞
🝮 Now as willing to hug and kiss all the time is Jake is, sometimes he just likes to keep it simple.
🝮 It’s romantic to him. Holding your hand.
🝮 Your hands slip into each others so easily, it’s almost like they’re puzzle pieces.
🝮 He gets tingles whenever your fingers lace together. For all his talk, Jake is pretty inexperienced when it comes to romantic relationships.
🝮 He reaches out to pull you closer, bringing you to his side as you walk down the street. Arms brushing against each other, hands pressed together.
🝮 Not all the time, but sometimes. He’s not overly affectionate of course. He’ll initiate hand-holding on walks… during dinner…
🝮 Hold hands as he kisses you senseless. Interlock fingers as your free hand digs through his hair. Hold hands as he presses his body against yours and molds his lips with yours.
🝮 Yeah… Jake likes to hold hands.
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𝐇𝐮𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐧
🝮 His knuckles are rough and withered as sand paper, to be frank.
🝮 He’s even cut his niece’s forehead before… trying to sweep some of her bangs out of her eyes. His skin is coarse… he’s aware.
🝮 He doesn’t know why you enjoy holding his hands so much.
🝮 You grab them during the cold, weaseling your icy fingertips into his warm palm. He brushes it off.
🝮 You grab his hand while you’re studying. It’s a little odd. He tries to ignore it.
🝮 When you begin holding his hand at random he finds it really unusual. You don’t actually like it… do you? The rough feel of his knuckles and palms. Even his fingertips are comparable to sandpaper.
🝮 You kiss his knuckles, dragging your lips over his coarse skin. He wants to flinch, but doesn’t. He wants to look away from you, but he doesn’t.
🝮 Holding hands with you is really nice…
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Me: O-Oh…. Hey guys! Part two to bubble baths? Well you see- w-WOAH
Ya’ll: 🔪🔪🔪🔪
Me: Oh! The requests… UhM about that— WAIT-
Me: 😵
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thefrogdalorian · 2 months
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Sanctuary
Din Djarin x GN!Reader
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Summary: It's one of those days when your emotions threaten to overwhelm you. Despite the horrible day you're having, you try your best to keep it together. A feat you manage, until a certain Mandalorian arrives home and takes you into his arms. Word Count: 1.2k ✯ Rating: General ✯ Content Warnings: Descriptions of anxiety/panic attack ✯ Author's Note: Seeing these gifs the other day broke something in my brain and this little fic was the result. I hope this gets you through a day when you really need a hug from Din Djarin 💕 ✯ My Masterlist ✯
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On the days when your stomach churned and you were too upset to vocalise the war that waged within yourself, you were grateful to have someone in your life who seemed to know exactly what you needed. There was no doubt that Din understood you better than you understood yourself. It was unsurprising, given how meticulous and attentive he was in everything he turned his hand to.
You had been in each other's lives for some time, yet you still found yourself pleasantly surprised each time he shared such care towards you. You never doubted Din's kind heart once you got to know him, but you were nonetheless astonished by the multitudes he contained. It was astounding how tender and caring the man, who had gained such a fearsome reputation throughout the galaxy as a ruthless bounty hunter, actually was beneath his cold, hard beskar. 
It was early in the morning when Din had left through the door and your stomach tied itself into knots as you heard his heavy footprints gradually fade into the distance. The sound indicated that you were now alone with your thoughts. Throughout the day, you had pushed your emotions to the deepest depths inside yourself. You had been trying to kid yourself, in his absence, that you could survive the day without breaking down. You told yourself over and over that if you could just make it until Din returned and then put on a brave face when he walked through the door, you would have survived the day without dissolving into pieces. The last thing you wanted was for Din to see how upset you were. The fear that you were weighing him down with your troubles or somehow holding him back from achieving greater things was omnipresent. Even though he had never given you a reason to fear such a thing, you were constantly terrified of being seen as a burden to him.
The familiar heavy footsteps grew louder; their rhythmic, even quality indicated they could belong to only one man. You took a deep breath and attempted to steady your racing heart, preparing yourself to keep it together upon Din's return.
The second you saw his figure in the doorway, you knew it was a lost cause. At the sight of the familiar outline of beskar shining in the entryway, you immediately knew that there was no way that you would be able to maintain your composure. You stood up immediately, rising off the chair you had been sitting on as you waited for him, to greet the man who owned your heart entirely. Instead of racing towards him as usual, you found yourself suddenly overcome with apprehension. Your steps faltered with uncertainty as you walked towards him on shaky legs, feeling your ability to stay strong evaporate just from laying eyes upon him. 
Din held his arms out to you without hesitation, beckoning you to come close to him.
“Come here, cyare,” Din whispered as you stepped into his orbit, his voice gravelly, “Let me hold you.”
As you closed the distance between you and Din to rest your head in the crook of his neck, you caught a glimpse of his mudhorn pauldron, glinting despite the low light of the cabin. Despite how terrible you felt, the ghost of a smile passed across your lips as you noticed the signet was so distinctively Din. Stepping into his arms felt like you were returning to safety. To your home.
You rested your head in the crook of his neck and nuzzled into his rough cowl, enjoying his familiar scent. It was musky and masculine, but not overbearing. You detected a faint hint of perspiration mixed with the floral scent you knew lingered on his skin thanks to the bottle of liquid he lathered across his tan skin in the 'fresher each morning. Din’s chestplate was firm against your body. Initially, you recoiled at the slight chill from the beskar, discernible even through your layers of clothing. Once you had adjusted to the temperature and new sensation, though, you felt nothing but warmth when you were in his arms.
As Din held you close and his hands rubbed comforting circles into your back with one strong arm holding you tightly around the waist, you appreciated the way your bodies fit together. It was as you were admiring how you seemed to be made for each other that you noticed how Din had wrapped his cape around your shoulders to further cocoon you into him. As though he was protecting you from all of the hurt that lingered outside of the sanctuary of his arms. From whatever was troubling you. There was no intense questioning, no expectations for answers. Only safety, love and understanding from a man who wanted to help you through your very worst days.
Something about nuzzling into Din’s neck and the care he had taken to raise your spirits rendered you speechless. You were overcome with emotion, powerless to stop the tears which started falling down your cheeks. At first, it was a solitary droplet, but then you couldn’t help yourself as more and more tears slipped from your eyes. 
At the first sound of your sniffles, Din pulled away from you. You felt your stomach drop in panic, momentarily afraid that you had upset him somehow. You looked up at him and felt the embarrassment settle somewhere low in your stomach, a physical symptom of the mortification you felt at your outburst. Then came the shame. You were dismayed that you had lost control of your emotions in such a way. Evidence of your loss of composure was evident in the reflection of your face in his helmet. You watched as your expression grew increasingly more distraught and felt your chest heaving as the panic rose within you, upset at your emotional state.
Fortunately, Din was nothing but understanding and caring. Before your thoughts could spiral anywhere darker, he began to use his soft leather gloves against your cheeks to dry the tears that were burning hot trails down your skin. It distracted you from your anguish, his tender touch providing instant comfort.
You relished the contact and melted into his embrace. Between his hand that lingered on your cheek, while the other rubbed your back and ensured his cape still swaddled you, your mood was instantly calmer. Din brought you back into his shoulder and returned his hands to your back, rubbing up and down as he held you close. You wrapped your arms around his waist, relishing the small contact you gained with the warmth of his flesh between the hard plates of his beskar. You stayed like that for a few more minutes, feeling your anguish dissipate with each second that Din held you.
Eventually, your breathing evened out and returned to a less frantic pace. Sensing that his embrace had had the intended effect on your fragile emotional state, Din pulled away once again and brought his hands to cup your jaw gently.
“How are you feeling now?” he rasped as he stroked your cheeks with his gloved thumbs. 
“Being in your arms always makes me feel better,” you smiled.
“I’d hold you for the rest of my days if you only asked me to, cyare,” Din vowed with a nod of his helmet. 
You smiled then, enjoying the way your face lit up with a smile and how your eyes had regained their sparkle thanks to the tight embrace of your attentive Mandalorian; your sanctuary.
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ohimsummer · 3 months
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✎ . . .❝ KISS ME, THEN. ❞
— poly! satosugu verse, satoru x reader, fluff, a first kiss :p, he’s such a lovesick fool My God.
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Gojo doesn’t think he’s ever gotten totally lost in someone before; not like he has with Geto, anyway. But that was before he met you, a person who actually kept him intrigued and imbedded themself in his fickle thoughts. At some point after Shoko introduced you to them, he became trapped—blue of his eyes left wandering amidst the hue of yours, mind tangled in the string of your comebacks that rival his own. Gojo’s never met anyone else so good at keeping him on his toes.
“Kiss me, then.”
A lump shoves its way down his throat at your taunt. The sun has almost fully departed, spare edges of it peeping over the horizon to cast a golden light over the empty park. Deep shades of purple and orange cascade throughout the sky, a wondrous sight who’s an expert at captivating—but all Gojo can focus on is your lips, upturned in a smirk and coated in a distracting sheen of gloss.
Admittedly, his confession was bold, an ‘I want to kiss you’ that’s been lingering on his lips the last half hour you two have been talking. And your response was unexpected, as is a lot of your words and actions towards him and Geto. A playful remark to call his bluff, though the way you steadily eye his lips too pushes Gojo to believe you want him to kiss you just as much.
You sense a waver in his never ending confidence. “Well? I’m waiting.”
Blue eyes finally meet yours, and Gojo does an anxious nibble on his bottom lip. “Shut up. Give me a second.”
Aw, how cute, you think. “What, gotta hype yourself up first? Where’d all that confidence go, Satoru?”
The way you flow out his name to be swept away with the wind makes Gojo’s heart stutter. He could never answer your question, because admitting that your teasing words had drained him entirely of self-assurance filled his throat with sand. But if there was one thing Satoru Gojo was good at, it was faking.
He feels you tense beneath his tentative palm, cupping your face and your skin sets fire to his fingers. You’re warm, chasing the cold from his hand as he rubs a thumb over your soft cheek. Despite the playful smirk still gracing your lips, Gojo can recognize the anxiety in your eyes because you’re a faker, too.
Breath hitches, and you watch as he leans in a little closer, your heart pounding faster and faster as Gojo nears you. The faint smell of his cologne dances around in your nose, your restless fingers gently tugging the hem of his shirt. Your lips brush, and then he’s giving you a short peck, fleeting and cute and enough to have red painting him from ears to neck. Satoru lingers for a split second, desireful gaze on your lips still—you’re sweet, like the strawberry dessert he shared with you when you got here, and Gojo so desperately craves another taste. And you give him the perfect excuse to do so.
“Again.”
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tagz: @anthoosies @staryukis :3
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