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#You Shine in the Moonlit Night
moonlightsdream · 8 months
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FILMS IN 2023: → You Shine in the Moonlight (2019) — dir. Tsukikawa Sho
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duskbrn · 12 days
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TAG DUMP
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cosmicbucky · 7 months
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daisies and dances lead to heartfelt romances
summary: you offer to take bucky out a few times so he can practice what it's like to date in the modern world. unbeknownst to each other, both your offer and his acceptance have an ulterior motive
pairing: bucky barnes x female reader
word count: 3845
part: one
warnings: minor swearing, fluff, tony is a dick with a hidden agenda, some angst, soft/shy/grumpy bucky, pet names/nicknames, unknown but mutual pining, oblivious idiots in love, sad bucky, mentions of bucky's struggles
a/n: this is planned to be at least two parts, maybe three.
big thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for encouraging and supporting me with this!!
《《《《 ♡ 》》》》
The compound was quiet, softly lit to guide your way to the kitchen. It was late in the night, but not too late that everyone was asleep. Your socked feet were silent on the cold floor, and as you made your way to the fridge you heard laughter coming from the main entertainment room. You smiled to yourself as you went to grab a bottle of juice, focusing in on the conversation being held.
"Come on man! You can't be serious," you heard Sam say, laughter clear in his voice.
"Just drop it, Sam," Bucky replied, warning clear in his voice.
The smile slipped from your face as you closed the fridge with a sigh. You knew that tone. It wasn't Bucky's patented 'my god these people are so annoying' tone. It was his 'the next person who says something is getting thrown into a wall' tone. Which meant he was actually upset over whatever the conversation was about. It was rare for him to really get worked up beyond his usual moody demeanor, and you couldn't help the worry that surged through you.
"Oh, no. No, no this is way too good to drop, Barnes," Tony chimed in with a laugh. You could just picture the smirk on his face, and your feet moved quickly to carry yourself towards the conversation.
Bucky noticed you approach from where he sat, and he sent you a pleading look. Please help me, his eyes screamed.
"Don't tell me you guys are picking on Bucky again," you said, trying to sound casual as you leaned against the wall.
"You mean grumpy mcgee over here? You bet your ass we are," Tony replied happily.
You sighed, rolling your eyes at him. "Why now?"
"This dude can't date to save his life!" Sam spoke up, overly amused about it.
Bucky sank further into the couch, crossing his arms over his chest as he zoned out to somewhere far away, and you felt a pang in your heart at the sight- how can such a large man manage to look so small; so defeated?
"You guys are roasting him because he hasn't been on a date yet?" you asked, your annoyance about it clear in your voice.
It may be a little strange, but you had always felt protective over Bucky. The team often ganged up on him, and besides Steve, you were his closest friend - the two of you took a little while to warm up to each other, but once the ice thawed the two of you were rarely seen without the other. Now, it's not to say you never joined in on teasing him - because you did, quite often - but you knew when to stop. Perhaps it was because he would open up to you about some of the things he felt insecure about during your moonlit talks, the two of you tucked safely under blankets or hidden away somewhere in the compound as you spoke what neither of you could say in the light of day. Or, maybe it was because you just knew him well enough to know whether a topic would upset him or not. Whatever the reason may be for it, you always knew what was okay to say and what wasn't. Bucky would never be able to say how much he appreciated you for that.
"Tinman's been on dates, didn't you know?" Tony asked, grinning at you mischievously. "He just blew them all."
You tried not to let the hurt show on your face. He's been on dates? God, of course he has, look at him.
"Okay, and? You've never had bad dates before?" you asked, letting the anger start to shine through. "Just leave him alone."
Tony rolled his eyes. "Awe, look at that. Mommy dearest to the rescue once again, huh, Barnes?"
You stood up straight as rage surged through you, opening your mouth to tell him where to go. Before you could, Bucky's voice rang out: "Watch your fucking mouth, Stark. Or I'll shut you up myself," he warned, voice eerily calm as he glared at Tony.
Bucky was never really one to speak up when others came at him, more or less just taking it with an eye roll, clenched jaw, or tight smile as they all had their fun. However, once the comments turned towards you, as they always seemed to if you were around (and let's be honest, how often were you not around?), he was quick on his feet to stop them in their tracks, making the room feel so tense that no one else said anything for fear the air around them would actually suffocate them if they opened their mouth.
"Here we go again," you heard Sam mutter to himself. "Alright, I'm out of here. See you guys later," he added, walking out of the room with his hands up in a display of surrender.
He gave you a knowing look as he walked out, ignoring your questioning gaze and instead giving you a loving pat on the shoulder as he passed by. With him now out of sight, you turn your attention back to Tony, waiting for what was to come next.
"Look, all I'm saying-" Tony started, waving his glass around emphatically - amber liquid on the verge of splashing everywhere.
"No one cares what you're saying, Tony," you interrupted, already exasperated from the interaction.
He held up his hand, pointing a finger at you. "Come on, princess. You really gonna take away my fun? Under my own roof?"
"Yes, I am. Can't you take a day off from being a complete dick to him? Just once? We've all seen this show before, Tony, and it always ends the same way," you said, walking further into the room to snatch the glass from his hand, glaring at him as you did so. "And don't call me princess," you seethed, slamming the glass down on the side table behind you.
You didn't want to hate Tony, in all honesty you truly did love him. At the end of the day he was your family, and family wasn't perfect. However, you couldn't keep down the small bubbles of hatred that boiled inside you whenever he started to target Bucky. You didn't see him as family when he waved his disdain for the soldier around like a kite in the wind; you just saw him as a rich douchebag picking on someone beneath him. You hated the way he treated Bucky, and you absolutely loathed the way he made Bucky's voice tremble ever so slightly with self doubt when he lays in your arms in the dead of night, recounting the things Tony said to him that keep him awake, that make old wounds reopen. You loved Tony, but his hatred for Bucky also made you hate him.
"No? Do you only like it when RoboCop calls you that?" Tony asked calmly, a malicious glint shining in his eyes, his smirk growing wider when he saw your expression. 
You felt the blood rush to your face, recounting a few of the times that the name had slipped through Bucky's lips; though it was from the haze of sleep and moments of vulnerability, there were few memories you cherished more. "Go to sleep now, princess. I'll be here when you wake up." "Thank you for staying with me, princess." "You're safe now, princess." 
"Yeah, I hear a lot of things around here that I probably shouldn't. Now, why don't you lighten up and let me say my piece, princess?" Tony continued with a grin, and it took everything in you to not smack it off his face.
"I'm gonna fucking kill you," Bucky suddenly spat, making you jump slightly - he had fallen so silent you half forgot he was even there. The menace that dripped from his words sent a chill down your spine, and you sent one last glare at Tony before you glanced over your shoulder.
One look over at Bucky as he jumped from the couch told you he had never been more serious. His jaw was tight as his lips pressed together in a fine line, his fists clenched so tightly that the mechanisms in his left arm started to whir and the veins in his right arm shone prominently, his whole body tense as his chest heaved. He took two quick steps forward, but the second you raised your hand to his chest he stopped.
"Buck, it's alright," you said calmly. You knew it wasn't - you were angry, hurt, embarrassed, and a million other things; but you couldn't let Bucky in on that. You had to brush it all off so you could be the calm that Bucky needed in order to tame the never ending storm raging furiously inside him.
Bucky looked down at you with narrowed eyes, as if he didn't understand a word you said. "I'm supposed to just let him talk to you like that?"
If it weren't for the seriousness of the moment, you would have blushed from his words. Instead, you huffed and lightly shoved him away. "Yes, because you're feeding into exactly what he wants, Bucky. You know all he wants is to mess with you."
"Not true," Tony chimed in from behind you. "I want lots of things, pumpkin. In fact, one of those things is Pepper, so I'll be going now. And hey, when you and soldier boy here finally get married, just remember - I'm ordained."
You spared a glance in his direction just in time to see his shit-eating grin before he turned and sauntered happily out of the room.
"Can you two ever give me a fucking break?" you scolded, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Aw don't you start now, too," Bucky whined, tossing his head back slightly as he sighed, making his way back to the couch.
You sighed as well, following in his wake to plop down beside him. You didn't need to say anything, he took one look at you and knew the question that was already dancing on your tongue: what was it about this time?
"Look, it doesn't matter," he huffed out, slumping his shoulders as he looked down at his hands resting on his lap, wringing his fingers together. 
“Come on, when have I ever let it go that easily?” you asked, nudging his shoulder. 
He let out a humourless chuckle, the corners of his mouth flicking upwards for the briefest of moments as the memories of the countless times you two have been in this situation flashed through his mind. 
You could see the turmoil on his face, and you knew he was trying to find a way to express what was going on, so you sat patiently and waited for him to find the proper words. 
“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” he finally settled on, the words coming out in a rushed breath. 
Before you could question him, he carried on with a frown, his brows knit together. “It was so much easier back then, you know? Flash a smile, go to the fair, wear the uniform, whatever. I never had to think about it, but now there’s- there’s just so much…. so much expectation. You bring flowers and you care too much, you don’t bring flowers and you don’t care enough. I-it’s like everything that I do, I should have done the opposite. I can’t get anything right.”
You sat in silence for a moment, his words bouncing around in your head. Each syllable he spoke fractured your heart until it was shattered into bits; but all you cared about as you looked at the broken man in front of you was putting him back together, hoping that your words and your comfort and your care would be enough to put together the delicate pieces of him - the pieces that broke off every time he doubted himself, every time he remembered his past, every time he did something wrong on a mission - the pieces that you picked up and kept safe inside of yourself until you had the chance to give them back to him, gluing them on with whispers of affirmation and promises that everything would be okay in time.
“You never mentioned any of this before,” you said tentatively, the unspoken words why did you keep this from me? hanging in the air. “Is this what they were teasing you about? Your struggle to figure out how to date again?”
He let out a huff of air as he slung his head back to rest against the back of the couch, shaking it lightly as he stared up at the ceiling, his jaw flexing with contemplation. “I didn’t want it to be a big deal, but then Jackass 1 and Jackass 2 found out and ran with it.”
“Okay, well.. walk me through it. Is there someone you want to take out on a date right now? Maybe I can give you some ideas,” you offered softly, the words tasting bitter in your mouth as you spoke them. 
He groaned, running his hands over his face before smacking them back down on his legs, his palms dragging across the fabric covering his thighs for a few seconds; a habit, you noticed, that he often did when he was nervous or uncomfortable. “No,” he said flatly, biting down on his tongue to keep the words yes, my delicate little flower, I want to take you out on a date from tumbling out of his mouth. 
“No?” you echoed, surprised by the response. 
He nodded his head in confirmation. “No,” he repeated, looking at you. Taking in your expression, he carried on. “Like, no there isn’t anyone. I don’t- I didn’t even want to go on those dates, but… I couldn’t- I mean, I kinda just…. felt like I needed to."
There was so much he left unsaid at this moment. So much he wanted to say, needed to say - not only just to get it off his chest, but because he believed that you deserved to know. Every time he looked at you he had the burning desire to bare his soul to you, to tell you all the things he kept buried away in the deep recesses of his mind, locked away in a vault only you could open. He wanted to tell you that he still feels so out of place, that most days when he was out in this new world he suddenly resembled a child who was lost amongst a crowd of scary and unfamiliar things - desperately searching for something he recognized that he could cling to. He wanted to tell you that you were the familiar thing he found to cling to, that he carried you in his head and in his heart every time he was out; that when things got too overwhelming he closed his eyes and recalled the encouraging words you always told him, that when that wasn't enough he called you with some lame excuse just so he could ground himself with your voice - "Hey, doll. What was the name of that bakery you took me to the other week? I'm thinking of getting more of those cookies we liked." He had saved the bakery's location to his phone (something he knew how to do thanks to you) the second he saw how your eyes sparkled when you got there, just to make sure he could always find it and pick things up for you. "Hey, so, I just got yelled at because I walked by and ruined someone's… what the fuck was it? It has to do with a clock or something? Does that sound like something you know? Please tell me what the hell that is because I feel like I'm going insane." He knew what it was. He had downloaded the app after he witnessed how much it made you laugh, and he had an endless amount of saved videos that he thought you would like, but for some reason wasn't brave enough to show you. "Okay, I’m out shopping - and don't laugh because this is a serious question - do you think I would look good in pink?" He vividly remembered your words from a few months ago, when he was burritoed in your fuzzy pink blanket during movie night, and you told him so casually that he should start wearing pink because it complimented his eyes. He wanted to tell you that you were the only thing in this universe that could still the incessant maelstrom that was his mind. That when he was out on those dates the storm raged on more intensely than ever, but one look or word from you and everything was quiet; not even a trace of rain. 
He wanted to tell you. But he didn't. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Oh, but he needed to- 
"You wanted to try to fit in," your gentle voice pulled him from his thoughts, his head snapping to look at you. To see your eyes, full of understanding. To see your lips, pulled into a sad smile - but not one of pity, one that said all you wanted was to help him through yet another battle he was fighting with himself.
"Yeah," he sighed. "Yeah. I guess I just figured.. well, I don't know. Everyone kept saying how I needed to get out there. That dating was the next best step I could take to try and….. to- to understand how to live in this world better. I just wanted things to make sense again, but now I'm even more lost and confused than before I even went on those god damn dates."
You tried to keep your face even, to not let him see how sad it made you to hear the way his voice wavered when he told you what was going on. To not let him know that you sensed how small he was feeling, how even though his broad frame still shadowed you as you both sat there, he had never seemed so small.
"Well…. take me on a date," you suggested, not taking the time to even think about it. 
Bucky swore the whole room started to spin. His mouth ran dry and his heart hammered so heavily in his chest that he was convinced you could hear it. He knew he heard you wrong, he wasn't lucky enough to have a girl like you. The world was cruel, and he knew that the one sliver of hope that he had for a truly blissful life would never be fully his. That one day it would leave him, just like everything else throughout the years, as you found yourself in the arms of someone else. He would never have you the way he wanted you, the way he needed you. He knew that. So he had to have misheard you. "Come again?" 
Your whole face lit up when he asked this, and Bucky could feel himself coming undone. Your hands on his arm when you grabbed him in excitement suddenly felt so different than in the past. It used to feel warm, comforting, calming; but for some reason this time it sent a jolt of fire and electricity through him, and he never wanted to lose that feeling. He wanted to feel it again, feel it always, feel it forever. 
“Yeah! Oh, it would be great, Buck! We can go on a few dates, and I can help you find your footing with it all before you get back out there,” you said excitedly. You purposely overinflated your smile so he wouldn’t see the way your lips faltered with the struggle of getting out the last part, diverting your gaze for the smallest of moments so he wouldn’t see the way your eyes dimmed with the thought of him being with someone else. 
Bucky shifted where he sat, opening and closing his mouth a few times as his mind went into overdrive trying to think of a response. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to say yes, but then there was a small piece of him that knew it wouldn’t end well - the piece that knew how he truly felt about you, the piece that knew it would easily be tricked into thinking these dates actually meant something to you; because lord knows they would mean the world and more to him. Bucky wanted to say yes, but he knew he had to say no. He had to say no because it wouldn’t be fair to you - you were offering to help him and he would be taking advantage of your kindness, using it to get to see you in a light he’d never be able to otherwise. He had to say no because saying yes could ruin everything. He may not be able to go back to the way it was before these dates, too addicted to ever quit you. He had to say no, for your sake, because it was a selfless offer. Bucky, however, was selfish when it came to you. 
“You know, doll… that may not be the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” he had said, giving you a lopsided smile. Your eyes lit up once more as you grinned at him, and no matter how hard he tried to keep his composure he couldn’t help but mirror your expression, feeling as giddy as he did the first time he was allowed to stay up late as a kid. 
“Excellent choice, Barnes,” you said playfully. “I swear you won’t regret it, it’ll be really fun. Just you and me, no expectations.”
Bucky nodded, shifting his head to scratch his jaw so you wouldn’t see the light frown that danced across his lips for a moment. “No expectations,” he repeated, careful to keep his voice level. “I can work with that.”
“Good,” you said softly, nodding a little. “I’ll give you some time to think about it and plan something, and you can just let me know whenever you wanna go on date number one.”
He was silent for a minute, taking the time to carefully churn the words over in his mind before answering. He didn’t want to make it obvious, but he knew immediately what he wanted to do. How could he not? All he ever did was look for new things he thinks you’d like, find himself dreaming of where he’d take you if he ever got the chance. Sure, you guys have done lots of things together before - brunches, lunches, dinners, movie nights, events, parties; you name it. Though there was never any meaning with any of those, it was always just friends spending time together. How were either of you supposed to know you each wished they meant something more? Heaven forbid you two would actually say how you felt.
"No need," Bucky said, rising from the couch with a small chuckle, looking down at you with the smile he reserved only for you. The one that skillfully said everything and nothing all at once. “Lunch. Tomorrow.”
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sakkiichi · 9 months
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MEOW?
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them as cat parents.
ft. Kaedehara Kazuha, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Xiao, Shikanoin Heizou, Albedo, Kaveh, Alhaitham, Childe x gn! reader.
cw/genre: fluff, headcanons.
word count: 1.7k.
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✧ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA
— All cats adore him and he’s fond of them too, he’s the perfect cat parent.
— Kazuha is soft, warm and gentle, all attributes very appealing to the small felines that tend to follow him around everywhere he goes: from the streets of Inazuma City, to the docks of Ritou, to even during his trips to Liyue.
— Kazuha is a free spirit, wandering from one place to another, a fallen maple leaf, vibrant red in its trajectory across the sky. His desire to see the world makes it difficult for him to linger in one place only, so it is not likely he ends up adopting a cat of his own.
— However, always that he’s in Inazuma, the wandering samurai makes sure to visit his late friend’s gravestone. In those occasions, as much as he keeps his composure, Kazuha’s grip on your hand tightens, a reassurance to himself, that the heavens won’t part in thunderbolts and take you away too.
— These visits are heavy on his heart, but your company and the soft mewls of the white kitten his friend left behind manage to shine a little sunlight in his stormy memories.
— The small cat’s ears perk up when you two show up, its tail swishing as it leaps into Kazuha’s arms, eliciting soft giggles from the wandering poet.
— You could stare forever at the sight of your lover’s smile when the little one paws at his cheeks curiously, playing with the tips of Kazuha’s moonlit hair. You sigh dreamily, gaze soft. If a day comes when you’re too weary and old to travel anymore, you’re so taking in the kitty.
✧ SCARAMOUCHE
— He’s the cat.
— Seriously, now. Cats are drawn to him. And even if he denies it, he has to hold back a smile when the little creatures follow him around.
— The wanderer is secretly very, very soft on the cats.
— Oftentimes, he lets them hide under his hat, carrying them around when he goes for walks around Sumeru. He thinks, that way, his doll won’t be so lonely either (he definitely introduces it to his favorite cats he befriends but shh don’t tell him you saw that.)
— If you point out how the kittens seem to consider him one of them, Scara will blush deeply, frowning and spouting how you’re seeing things and that no, he’s not keeping any of them.
— Oh yeah, he totally went out to feed the kitties some scraps that night, it’s late and he wanted to sleep, you see? and the animals were being loud. (No, it’s definitely not because he feels guilty of saying he’s not keeping them).
— One time, you caught him rescuing a very small black cat on a thunderstorm, and to this day, you still believe that’s the most precious thing you have ever witnessed.
— The smile on your boyfriend’s face and his wide indigo eyes when he felt the warmth of the kitten’s small body against his hollow heart are definitely a treasure you want to keep forever.
✧ XIAO
— He’s the cat, number 2.
— Liyue’s cats have a favorite and that’s definitely none other than the mighty vigilant yaksha, the conqueror of demons, the bane of all evil.
— In truth, he’s just a blushing awkward mess around the kittens.
— One, he’s scared to hurt them. They’re so small and their mewls are so soft… such pure and innocent creatures… What if his karma were to taint them?
— Two, he’s clueless.
— Literally. One time you were playing with the stray cats around the streets of Liyue, Xiao showing up as you were rubbing a tabby one’s belly. When you put the small kitty in the adeptus’ arms, he didn’t know what to do.
— What if he accidentally drops it? Or holds it too tight?
— Please, reassure Xiao :( he really needs it.
— Wrapping your hands around his, your body against his, you petted the cat with Xiao, the small animal nuzzling into your boyfriend. His blushy face when the feline purred in pleasure was too adorable, you’ll have to make him hold cats more often ehe.
✧ SHIKANOIN HEIZOU
— Heizou wants to protect beautiful things, to keep them in the precious light of their safety.
— That, of course, includes cats.
— They’re so adorable, brightening his day when he’s away from you and the small animals follow him around on his way to work in the mornings.
— They look so cute, with their big shiny eyes, observing him curiously, that the detective starts to take them under his wing.
— As unexpected as it was, to hear “meow?” instead of “I’m home, sweetheart!” one day as the front door swung open, you can’t deny it was beyond adorable, the way your boyfriend walked into the living room with a small cat nestled on top of his head.
— Yes, you ended up keeping the little one.
— It now joins the detective gathering clues for the cases he solves; sometimes the small animal leads the way when it’s too dark to see the trails, or it gently scratches Heizou’s legs when it senses danger.
— And rest assured, that Heizou will keep the kitty safe too. No matter what. It reminds him of you, sometimes, when it stares up at him with a starry gaze. Something as precious needs to be cherished.
✧ ALBEDO
— He finds cats to be very interesting creatures.
— Independent, intelligent, able to fit in practically any space… he wonders if they’re actually liquid or if their structure has been alchemically altered to have such fascinating properties.
— When, after exhaustive observation, the chief alchemist finally concludes that cats are indeed just naturally like that, they become his favorite companions (after you, that is).
— Sometimes, when Albedo is around Mondstadt, the kittens there follow him to the alchemy bench, rubbing against his legs when he’s working.
— You and the cats become Albedo’s favorite models as well. He loves your giggles when the little ones paw at your lap, trying to climb on your shoulders.
— They also become his little helpers when he paints, handing him a brush when he needs it, even without him having to ask.
— If you’re lucky, you’ll get to see the chalk prince trying to converse with the kittens too.
— Something along the likes of “Hmm… which color do you think [Y/n] would like best here? This one?” The kreideprinz asks, dipping his brush into it. “You’re a smart one, aren’t you?” He coos as the cat, rubbing its chin.
— Now you wish you could sketch, to immortalize the moment. Luckily, you have your kamera with you.
✧ KAVEH
— Oh sweet disney princess Kaveh, cats and pretty much all animals adore him.
— Neither you nor him know when the cats around Port Ormos started following him, but now they just won’t leave.
— No matter how many times he (halfheartedly) scolds the kitties, they are not fazed by the architect’s pouty expression.
— So your home becomes home for the cats milling about Sumeru.
— Your lover goes as far as to design a whole area for the little animals, building small houses for them to stay in with their own bowls of food, color coordinated and decorated, of course.
— You look happy helping him care for the cats too. However, when you offer to buy them food, your boyfriend can’t let you; he’ll take on extra commissions if he has to, but Kaveh just can’t allow you spending money on this little, albeit adorable, “problem.”
— There was one time one of the kitties sneaked inside your house, making it to your room. Let’s just say, the small feline found Kaveh’s face very entertaining and decided to nuzzle against it. The scene was so precious you couldn’t bring yourself to shoo the cat away, deciding to lay down with your partner and his new fan.
✧ ALHAITHAM
— Around the time he had to fill in the position of acting grand sage, the hours your boyfriend could spend with you were helplessly diminished, due to him having to cover overtime.
— You felt a little lonely, so well, can you exactly be blamed for adopting a baby cat from the local shelter?
— Turns out, your decision kind of “backfired” on you. For, in the hours he’s away, not only do you miss Alhaitham, but the latest addition to your household does too.
— The kitty has become very fond of your lover, often curling up beside him while he reads. One hand holding his book and the other caressing the kitten’s grey fur, the sight is rather candid, you think, smiling, as you curl up beside them.
— At your presence, the cat doesn’t hesitate to jump into your lap, swishing its tail and meowing for more petting from the scribe beside you.
— With a tender grin tugging at his lips, Alhaitham leaves a kiss to your temple, resuming his affections on the little one.
— No matter how brief, as long as you can have moments like this, everything will be alright, you muse, closing your eyes, heart warmed by your two boys.
✧ CHILDE
— Repeat after me, Childe: no, you can’t train the cats to fight on the battlefield with you.
— Once you get past that, he’s good at caring for the kittens. Makes sure they always have food and toys, comfy beds and a space to play. Ajax is good at taking care of those he loves, as proved with his family.
— Speaking of which, his siblings would adore playing with the cats you and Childe adopt, especially Teucer! (he totally talks to them about mister cyclops, the animals staring up at him curiously, pawing at his figurine softly).
— As much as you’re against your cats joining your boyfriend in his battles, they love watching him as he practices, their large eyes following the movements of his dual blades or his bow.
— The harbinger always makes extra time for the adorable pets, playing with them after his training, no matter how tired he is.
— Those times, he doesn’t get scolded when he’s late for dinner (you’ve been secretly watching, smiling to yourself at how cute your lover is. Yes, you totally were staring too while he was shirtless, muscles taut as he wielded his hydro conjured spear).
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taylorswiftstyle · 4 months
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Out and about | New York City, NY | December 13, 2023
Clio Peppiatt 'Lucina Embellished Stretch Mesh Mini Dress' - $2,335.00
For the last few days I’ve thought a lot about how there’s been a certain uptick in the level of ‘glam’ in Taylor’s looks that harkens back to the early days of Midnights promotion. A time period when Taylor’s style was a two-tone mix of a patchouli hazed 70s apartment stuffed to the ceiling with well-loved vinyls over which a veneer of pinned up showgirl was laminated. Short hems, high heels, faux furs, dripping diamonds. I always felt this was an appropriate way to create a visual extension of an album that is positively full of emotions that are nuanced, complex, and that seem to be in direct opposition to one another even over the course of one track to the next. Over a year out from that album, much about Taylor’s life (professionally and personally) has been completely upended.
So to see her here now, effectively bookending Midnights fashion in a look that’s dark and ruminating and moonlit and celestial and mysterious yet sparkly and glam and alluring … it feels all the more appropriate on her birthday of all days. Adding another year of life to your experience tally often creates moments for reflection and to sift through memories - good and bad. Which sounds very much like the ethos of Midnights if you ask me.
On its surface, this is a fun party look (in a new-to-her brand which is an exciting new addition to her designer roster) that’s perfectly coordinated between the silver embellishments scattered like the night sky across her dress, to her bag, and even into the details of her shoes. Plus the extra shine factor of her jewels.
But like with any Taylor look, it’s one that gives me pause and makes me think of the context to what got us here and also to where she may be going.
Worn with: Anine Bing jacket, Messika earrings, Mazin Jewels necklace, Aquazzura bag and heels
Get the look: Topshop, $278.00
Photo by Gotham via Getty Images
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souliebird · 1 day
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[[and then I met you || ch. 18]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.
chapter masterlist
Words: 3.7k
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banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen
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warning: canon typical violence || vomit
“Oh, kiss me, beneath the milky twilight. Lead me out on the moonlit floor, lift your open hand - Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling. So, kiss me.”
You hum along with the song playing quietly in your ear as you scrub the bathtub. It is one of your cleaning nights and you are focused on getting everything back to tip-top shape. The tub currently has a bit of a purple tint to it after you tried a new brand of bubble bath for Minnie - you are lucky she isn’t now grape flavored as well - and you would very much like it gone. It is coming off easier than you expected, but it is taking a fair amount of elbow grease. 
It is easy to space out and listen to music as you work. Your cleaning playlist are songs you can vibe to that you don’t really associate with anything in your life - mostly you think about the movies the song has been featured in - but you are finding, as you scrub and romantic lyrics float through your head, a certain name and face keeps appearing in your mind’s eye. 
You know it isn’t wise for you to develop a crush on Matt - just because you have a daughter together does not mean he wants to kiss you. You know you need to squash the feelings down before you get yourself hurt. 
But sometimes it is nice to have silly impossible daydreams while you are cleaning alone at ten at night. Having a goofy little smile while you picture yourself spinning around a garden in a dance isn’t hurting anyone. You have a good grasp on reality - you just sometimes want to pretend to be the lead in a cheesy 90’s teen romcom - is that too much to ask? 
No one else needs to know Matt has replaced the lead actor. It is a secret just for you. 
As you scrub bleach powder around your purple-haze tub drain, you catch movement reflecting in the shine of the spout. You can’t hear anything over your music - even though you only have one earbud in - so you sit up and turn around. Of course, it is Minnie standing in the doorway, clad in her jammies, and dragging Scooby by his big paw.
You pull the earbud out, frowning to your daughter, “Is everything alright, Mouse? Is my music too loud? Did it wake you up?”
She shakes her head, then in the most miserable voice you have ever heard from her, whines, “My tummy hurts.”
Instantly, you set down your sponge and your earbud so you can go to your daughter, “your tummy hurts?” 
You move to pick her up, wanting to comfort her, but it is made clear she doesn’t want this by stepping back and holding up her toy between the two of you. It hurts, but it passes, as you know you don’t like to be touched when you feel sick, so instead, you kneel down to be in front of her and try to find the root of the problem. 
“How does your tummy hurt?”
She sways side to side, face scrunching up as she self-analyzes. You can see the little wheels turning in her head, but then there is a very subtle shift in her eyes that only years of being a mother makes you notice. With lightning speed, you grab Minnie under her arms and spin around to hold her over the toilet just as her dinner begins to regurgitate. 
Your heart breaks as she empties her stomach and you try to soothe her the best you can, rubbing her little back as she coughs and hacks. 
“It’s okay, it’s okay, get it all out. Get all the icky out,” you tell her. 
Luckily, her stomach is small and there is not a lot of expel. Once you are sure she is done, you flush the toilet then close the lid, intent on setting Minnie down so you can clean her up, but of course, now she doesn’t want to be put down. She wiggles and turns until she can bury her head into your neck, sniffling and hiccupping, and clinging to you the best she can. 
You can feel bits of vomit on your neck, but since you aren’t completely covered in it, you try to ignore it in favor of your distressed daughter. You begin to rock her gently, humming one of her favorite lullabies as she processes how distressing throwing up is.
You don’t remember when the last time she got sick was, but you have a guess as to what caused this upset - you tried a new ice cream for dessert tonight. It had made your stomach a bit gurgly and you had solved that with a TUMS. 
It hadn’t occurred to you to ask if Minnie needed one, too. 
A lesson for the future.
Minnie doesn’t dissolve into full on tears and after about two minutes, she pulls back and croaks out, “‘cooby?”
She had dropped the toy when you had first picked her up, so you stretch to grab him for her. She quickly switches to clinging to him and you go right for a washcloth. You wipe down your neck first - you can only handle so much - then start on cleaning up your poor Mouse. 
In a blessing from the gods, she only has a little bit of gunk around her mouth and nose. It doesn’t seem like anything got on her clothes. 
Getting her to rinse her mouth out takes a bit of convincing. 
“It will help the icky taste go away,” you promise, but she just clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head. You very much get why she wouldn’t want anything in her mouth after throwing up, but you also know she needs a good rinse. She only gives in after you demonstrate what you want of her by brushing your teeth and gargling some water. However, the condition is that you have to brush her teeth for her while she squeezes Scooby for dear life. 
Once her mouth is clean and the only sign she was ever sick is her puffy red eyes, you scoop up your baby and bring her out to the living room. 
“How does your tummy feel now?” you ask as you set her on the couch and begin to cocoon her in the throw blanket you keep there. 
Minnie rests her head on top of Scooby’s, lip jutting out into a pout, “Icky. And Hurty.”
“Icky and hurty?” You sympathize. You know well the aftermath of throwing up and how sometimes the aftermath is worse than the event - your stomach often turns sour and you feel drained. You know certain fluids will help relieve this, so you kiss Mouse’s forehead and tell her, “Let me see if we have any things to help.”
“Blue Pedi-lyte?” she asks and you can’t help but smile over how observant and smart your little one is. She may not have thrown up in recent memory - but other digestive problems have occurred, and she clearly remembers enough that the drink helped. 
“Yeah. Let me go see if we have any, okay? Do you want to put on some Mickey?”
“Goofy,” is her quick, but mumbled reply. 
You turn on the television and bring up some Goofy related shorts, then head to the kitchen, hoping you have some old Pedialyte. 
But you don’t. 
You have leftover drinks Karen brought you and the only thing that is comparable to what you promised Minnie is yellow Gatorade. However, you have nothing to turn it blue. You have the feeling that trying to give it to your little one is not going to go well, but you try, nonetheless. You fill a sippy cup halfway with yellow liquid and mentally cross yourself as you bring it to Mouse on the couch.
She takes one look at it before pouting at you, “That’s yellow.”
“I know, sweetie. But we don’t have any blue Pedialyte. We only have yellow Gatorade. It will help your tummy, too.”
To her credit, she takes it and holds it in her lap, looking down at it with disdain. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, then wrinkles up her nose and holds the cup back up to you, “It’s stinky.”
You try to not sigh - lemon-lime is an intense flavor and probably won’t taste the best after vomiting, but it is all you have. You crouch down so you are eye level with your daughter and rub her leg, trying to be encouraging, “I know, but it will help your tummy. Can you try for me?”
She looks between you and the cup about fifteen times, her little eyes full of doubt, before bringing it up to her mouth and taking a sip. She does not swallow - instead she looks disgusted before opening her mouth and letting the drink spill down her chin.
“Oh, no, no, let’s not do that,” you groan. You use your t-shirt - which is luckily your cleaning shirt and gross anyways - to wipe her face and soak up the yellow liquid. 
“Icky,” Mouse informs you, then adds, “I want blue Pedi-lyte. Please?”
You take in your daughter, looking so tiny wrapped up on the couch. How awful it must be to not only be nauseous, but to be so with enhanced senses. You’ve thrown up enough times to know what an unpleasant aftertaste it leaves, so she must be so miserable.
You rub your hands over your face and give in, “Okay, let Mommy go change into real people clothes, and we will go get some for you.”
----
You are no stranger to midnight runs to the bodega two blocks west. You had moved into your current apartment when you were about six months pregnant, and you had spent month seven waddling your way there almost every night for a slice of cake.  The late-night cashier, Sal, practically watched Minnie grow up and he is one of the few people who she will talk to unprompted.  So, you don’t feel embarrassed when you stroll in wearing sweatpants and a band-tank top, with Minnie still in her jammies - Sal has seen you in worse states and at least you aren’t wearing a robe and slippers. 
There’s a couple of college aged boys lingering around the snacks section who smell heavily of marijuana, and they seem more interested in talking about what chips to get than anything, so only your hyper paranoid mind makes you take notice as you make your way to the drink coolers. You pass all the fun things and go to the very back corner of the storefront where the small selection of medicinal goods are. 
Tampons, Tylenol, and band aids are stacked low on the dry goods shelf, and across from them, practically on the floor of the cooler, is one row of Pedialyte. The gods must be smiling on you because it is indeed the blue flavor your daughter is desiring. 
You open the cooler, and with Minnie on your hip, squat down to retrieve your prize. Almost instantly, she starts making grabby hands for it, asking with a bit of a whine, “Mommy, open it.”
“We have to pay for it first, then you can drink it,” you remind her, feeling guilty as you do. You can see the upset in her eyes, and to try and mitigate the damage, you offer, “Do you want to help buy it?”
Mouse, always the eager helper, nods against you, so you hand over the drink, stand, and start making your way to the counter. The stoned boys are debating which chips will leave the least amount of residue on their gaming controllers as you pass them and part of you wants to stop and listen. You don’t have an interest in video games beyond silly ones on your phone, but their passion is intense, and you agree Cheeto dust is one of the worst things in the world. You are lucky Minnie finds them gross and much prefers pretzels as her chip of choice.
As you come up to the checkout, Sal looks up from his phone and gives you a pleasant smile, “Late night snack run?” 
Minnie pipes up before you can, leaning forward as far as she can to hold out the bottle towards him, “I wanna buy this, please, thank you.”
Sal, ever kind, reaches across the counter to get it so you don’t have to try to lean in, “Ahhh, no snacks. Tummy troubles?”
“Tummy troubles,” you confirm. You dig into your purse for your wallet as he begins to ring you up.
Sal clicks his tongue in sympathy, before telling you, “My daughter, Sasha, the tall one, she always had the tummy troubles, too. Turns out, she was allergic to corn. Do you know how much corn is in everything in America?”
You make a face at that because you do, in fact, know how much corn is in everything. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 
In your arms, always wanting to mimic you, Minnie gives a solemn nod to Sal, “Sorry to hear.”
Sal laughs warmly, “You are kind. I hope your tummy troubles are not from corn, but too many sweets.” 
That makes Mouse giggle, which warms your heart. When you are told the total, you hand her your card to hand over to Sal. The sweet man swipes it, then addresses Minnie, “Debit or credit?”
Despite not knowing what that means, she instantly replies with, “Credit!” making you smile all the more. 
“Yes, we will charge it,” he says. The receipt prints and he hands that and the card back to you before bagging the Pedialyte in a little black baggie and handing that to Minnie. “Your purchase, little ma’am.” 
“Thank you!” she chimes, and you thank Sal as well. The college boys have finally decided on their snack, so you vacate the counter so they can make their purchase, wishing the cashier a good rest of his night. 
As you exit the bodega, Minnie bonks your arm with the bagged bottle, “Mommy, open it now. We buyed it.” 
“Okay, okay.”
You set her down on the ground, then get the bottle out so you can crack it open. You help your little one take a few careful sips and once she is done, she smacks her lips. 
“Not icky?” You ask and she gives a big nod in response. 
“Not icky.”
“How is your tummy?”
Her fist goes right into her mouth as she thinks over the question. You use the time to recap the drink and drop it back into the bag, then put that into your purse. 
“It feels like jumping dinosaurs,” Mouse finally tells you, “Going ‘bah bah bah’. Like sheepies.”
You have no idea what that is supposed to mean, but you guess that she feels better. She seems more chipper, which isn’t what you need closing in on midnight. If you don’t get home soon and get her back into bed, you are going to have a very grumpy toddler in the morning. 
Which will go great with your expected grumpiness - you still have to finish cleaning the bathroom and who knows how long that is going to take. You’ll need to redo the toilet and throw a load of laundry into the wash. You’ll probably get to bed around two if you are lucky.
So, with the complete intention of tiring your daughter out, you ask her, “Do you want to walk back home holding Mommy’s hand?”
Which completely does the trick and Minnie takes your hand so you can walk back home together, and you begin heading that way. 
Despite being the city that never sleeps, the streets around you are pretty empty. You haven’t come across any other foot traffic and you’ve only seen a few cars roll by, so to you, it seems like a quiet night.
You wonder if that is how Minnie sees it - or in her case - hears it. 
It has been mind boggling learning her range of hearing and how much input she must constantly receive.
Matt is still working on making you his binder - Karen has apparently taken to copy editing it - but he has given you a preview of a few pages and you can barely comprehend it. You think you would go insane if you could hear everyone talking all at once, all the time. Your anxiety would be astronomical, but your sweet Mouse doesn’t seem bothered in day-to-day life.
You’ve been watching her play more and more and you’ve been learning what catches her attention and interests. To your surprise, it has been music. The little wiggles and shakes she sometimes does is apparently her interpretation of dancing and you have been making her a little playlist for her birthday. You think a dance party would be a fun thing to do the night before the zoo trip, to help get out all her energy. You haven’t told her this yet, but you did ask her to let you know when she hears a song she wants to dance to, so you can look into it. 
You don’t want to add anything inappropriate after all. 
You look down at your daughter as you walk, a little smile coming to your face. She’s watching her feet, and it looks like she’s trying to step on her own shadow without making a big deal of it. You’ve seen her do that before or try to walk one foot in front of the other. You aren’t the fastest walker - you tend to stroll - so you never worry about her games slowing you down. 
Plus, if it wears her out, all the better for you. 
You are about half a block away from your building when Minnie suddenly halts and whirls her head back towards the bodega. Curious, you stop as well, wondering what she has heard now. 
“What is it, sweetie?” 
“There’s a hoot-hoot!” She whisper-yells, looking up to you with the biggest, purest smile. 
Your heart practically bursts from your chest with love and your smile grows to match hers, “A hoot-hoot? Can you tell me about the hoot-hoot?”
She nods, then you watch in slow motion as your daughter’s absolute joy morphs into that of horror and before you can even process what is happening, something is ripping you away from Minnie by the base of your neck. 
You are pivoted left and slammed face first into the brownstone staircase you were just walking by. Your vision goes spotty as pain erupts from the center of your forehead - confusion and panic begin to consume you. 
All you can hear is your daughter screaming in fear.
You have no idea what is going on, but all you know is Minnie needs you, and that ignites something deep and primal in your chest.
There is something grabbing and pulling at your top and your purse - which you wear crossbody - and you realize someone is trying to mug you. Fear fills you as you struggle to get away, break free, but whoever it is is stronger than you and keeps slamming you back against the stone.
“Mommy!”
The thing inside your chest bursts to life when you hear Minnie cry for you and you kick backwards best you can, trying to dislodge your attacker. Your foot catches their knee and both of you go tumbling to the ground. You hit the cement hard only to be crushed under the weight of your assailant as they land on top of you. 
You refuse to stay still, squirming and trying to army crawl out from under the mugger, but they easily overpower you. Hands wrap around your throat from behind and you are temporarily overwhelmed by the stench of body odor and filth. You are pressed down into the sidewalk for a split second before being yanked back and you just barely manage to turn your face as you are violently forced back down again. Gravel and glass tear at your cheek. 
Something tangles itself into your hair and your head is once again being pulled back, but you won’t give up. You reach back over your head and grab onto the arm of the person attacking you. You feel flesh, so you curl your fingers and dig your nails in the best you can. 
There is a feral, pained yowl, then your head meets the ground again, but it doesn’t stop. They are trying to push you down into the sidewalk using all their weight, like they are trying to crush your skull.
You kick and buck as hard as you are able to, thrashing desperately in an attempt to break away. The pain is quickly becoming all encompassing, but Minnie is crying, and you need to get to her.
You try to get an arm under you, to try and help to push you up, but there is so much weight and all of it is centered on your upper back and skull.
You can’t get up. 
You can’t get to Minnie. 
You can’t save your daughter.
There is a deep and furious roar, then the crushing weight of your attacker is ripped off of you.  
You gasp for breath as you quickly roll onto your side, terrified you're going to be pushed back into the dirt and smothered. Your vision is swimming, blurry and half black, and everything, everything hurts. 
“DADDY!” 
Your eyes snap open and you try to push yourself up onto shaky arms. You try to turn around to find your daughter, but your body doesn’t want to obey anymore, and you collapse back onto the ground. You force your legs to move the best you can, trying to roll until you can find your daughter. 
“Minnie..” you try to call out but you aren’t sure if any noise escapes your lips.
“Mommy!”
The darkness wraps itself around you and begins to drag you down into its depths. The last thing your mind catches before it switches off is your little Mouse, screaming for you.
“MOMMY!”
“MOMMY!!”
---
:3C
---
tags:
@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 
@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath 
 @allllium
@anehkael
 @nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird  @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil
@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore
@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt
@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374
@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare 
@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars
@
Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 
@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood@mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 
@
two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @ astridstark13
 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday
@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face
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where you lead me, i’ll follow ; suguru geto
synopsis; opening up is hard, even under the comfort of a starry sky, seated next to your childhood friend. fortunately, suguru knows you like the back of his hand.
word count; 10k (dont even look at me i got carried away ok….)
contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, mutual pining, childhood friends to lovers (eventually. probably.), hurt/comfort (mostly comfort tbh), fluffy overall!!, reader is silly and suguru is down horrendous, written with a no curses au in mind, i’m madly in love with suguru geto and it shows
a/n; nothing goes harder than sugu w/ the childhood friends trope i fear. the angst potential, the fluff potential….. the slow burn of it all……….. anyways can u tell i miss him :’3
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time goes by so very quickly.
as you look up at the starry sky, the thought envelops you like a fuzzy tidal wave. heavy, suffocating; entirely unavoidable. these days, sinking beneath its weight is all you seem to do.
a sigh flows from your parted lips. soft and quiet, somewhat resigned. the midnight air tastes cold and crispy on your tongue, turning into a flurry of vapour as you breathe it out again. watching it dissipate into the summer night.
beyond the boundary of your vision, stars burn in tandem — all you can see is the darkness of the cosmos, pupils dilating as you take in the immensity of the world, the little flickers of starlight that glimmer in that all-encompassing veil of black. blooming out across the galaxy. 
the moon is beautiful, tonight. 
a big blob of reflected sunlight, smiling down at you so very tenderly, so gorgeous that it makes your heart ache. shining with a hazy kind of brightness, soothing like the lilt of a mother’s voice. 
and there’s a comfort, in the familiarity of the sight. because the moon is always, always there. always shining down on you, always when you need it most, even when it’s carved into a crescent or hidden by a blur of clouds. a view that never ever seems to change, no matter how many years go by. 
what a lovely thing to be.
another second lost, as you gaze into the nothingness of space. time keeps passing you by, never stopping — seconds turning into minutes, minutes turning into months. that incessant moving of the hands of the clock; tick, tock, tick, tock. over and over again. 
and, really, it’s a little bit scary. you think you might be terrified of time. you’re so afraid, afraid of being left behind, afraid that the world will turn its back on you and then walk away. afraid that everyone and everything will change shape before you know it.
but even in this always-changing, turbulent mess of a life — 
one thing remains the same.
”ah. there you are.”
(that voice.)
honeyed and smooth, but still rough around the edges. just a little husky. deep and familiar, etched into your brain; even if you were to forget everything else, you’re sure you’d still remember it. that familiar, familiar voice. it sounds like moonlit nights, and sunkissed kitchens.
it sounds like coming home.
a turn of your head. it’s a subconscious reaction, as natural as the beating of your own heart, memorized down to the very marrow of your bones — muscle memory, to seek him out after hearing the low timbre of his voice. you do it as if it’s the only thing worth hearing.
and suguru is smiling, when your eyes meet his. that gentle upward tug of his lips, small yet sincere. the one that always puts your mind at ease.
a warmth settles in your chest, at the sight of him. hair down, cascading over his shoulders and back, a little messy; as black as the night sky. a stark contrast to the white of his shirt, old, oversized, with some indie band on the front.
his eyes glimmer like little pockets of stardust in the darkness of the night. cutting through the haze, into your very soul.
”… damn,” you click your tongue, faux pout playing at your lips. ”how’d you know i’d be up here?”
suguru shrugs. ”lucky guess,” he lies.
of course i knew, he thinks. finding you is his specialty. always has been. like that one time he found you hiding under a table at your twelfth birthday party, or the time he found you crying in the woods when you got lost on your school field trip.
finding you comes easy, to suguru. almost like he’s always seeking you out, subconsciously or otherwise, always paying attention to your movements. you go south, and he follows. you go north, and he’s already waiting up ahead.
he’s worried. just a bit, is what he tells himself, but truthfully it’s more than that. because tonight was supposed to be for you. for the both of you, a celebration of your shared graduation — but before he knew it, you had slipped away. seizing the opportunity as soon as people grew too sleepy to notice. 
(sadly for you, no amount of fatigue could ever distract him from the lack of your presence.)
you look small, suguru thinks, curled up with your knees to your chest. sitting all alone up on the roof of his home, a place you’d always go to on nights when you couldn’t sleep. together, sharing whispered secrets and hushed laughter until the sun began to rise again.
back then, it felt like the two of you were the only ones awake in the whole world.
(the safest world he’s ever known.)
the distance between you grows narrower, as suguru makes his way over to you — and it always does, at the end of the day. no matter how much time you spend apart, that uncomfortable distance always, always ends up broached. one of you always moves closer. as if it’s unavoidable, two planets spinning around each other’s orbit.
suguru plops down right next to you, crossing his legs and leaning back. his knee bumps against the side of your shoe, and his shoulder grazes yours. it’s natural, as natural as the glow of the moon, this closeness between you. it reminds you of the gentle lapping of ocean waves at your bare ankles; on mellow summer days, comforting and familiar. a warmth that never goes away.
a brief inhale, and your heartbeat settles into a tender rhythm again. the scent that always lingers on suguru’s skin drifts throughout the air, mingling with your own — it can be hard to distinguish between the two, with how often you end up wearing each other’s clothes, but you could never mistake it for anything else. cedarwood and earl gray, with a hint of coconut-scented shampoo. enveloping every single one of your senses, grounding you in a way nothing else can.
leaning just a little closer to him, subconsciously, you let a fond exhale slip from your lips. barely audible. and suguru mimics it.
”of course i knew,” he whispers, voice gone soft. ”i know you.”
(your chest tightens. it doesn’t go away.)
another tiny breath flows into the air, as you gaze up at the stars in wonder. ”… yeah.”
the silence between you is a comfortable one. always has been. a little fickle, always shattered by one of you before long — usually you, though suguru isn’t much better. 
but this time, he stays silent.
he’s waiting. you know he is, because he always does. he’s waiting, waiting for you to break the silence first. waiting for you to say something, tell him what’s wrong, explain why you’re up here instead of celebrating with the others. waiting for you to explain why your eyes have looked so tired, this past week.
(you’d like to ask him the same thing. he’s an idiot if he thinks a little makeup is enough to hide those dark circles from you.)
suguru is nothing if not patient. so he waits, unbothered by the silence. admiring the stars, and the flicker of their light. a vague worry simmers in his chest, however, and he can’t stop himself from glancing down at you every now and then.
an insatiable yearning to soothe you gnaws at his heart — but he can’t, not unless you let him.
a sigh drops from your lips, suddenly. deep and heavy, like a rock thrown into the depths of a lake. the silence breaks. 
”hey, suguru.”
the man in question doesn’t speak, only emitting an inquisitive hum. he doesn’t look at you, either; a form of respect. knowing you’ll find it easier to get whatever’s bugging you off your chest without him scrutinizing you. 
the pads of your fingers tap at the tiles of the roof. an absentminded habit, as you inhale a bit of the midnight air. it tastes like summer. ”do you remember how we first met?”
suguru glances at you, a surprised glint in his eyes. he can’t help himself — unable to resist the temptation of seeing your face, drinking in your expression.
then he chuckles.
”haha.. are you feeling sentimental?” he teases, a lighthearted sense of amusement in his voice. bubbling up like seafoam. ”did you come out here just to brood?”
the corners of his lips quirk up when he hears you huff, hugging your legs closer to your chest with a furrow of your brow. cheek squished against your kneecap as you meet his gaze.
”c’mon,” you whine, pouting childishly in a way you know will make him give in. ”just indulge me a little…”
suguru smiles. it’s soft around the edges, smoothed over with an unmistakable fondness — and he does indulge you. he always does. ”of course i do,” he assures you.
the silence that settles between your words is tender. a mutual understanding, of sorts.
of course i remember. how could i not?
”you broke into my backyard.”
a sigh. heavy and sharp, as it tumbles from your lips, and suguru has to bite back a grin. his eyes shine with something teasing, in the dark, when you shoot a glare his way.
”okay, first of all —” you begin, ”i didn’t break into anything. i climbed over the fence. peacefully.”
suguru raises a brow. ”that literally doesn’t matter? it’s still trespassing.”
”i was seven years old!”
”some criminals start young.”
another harmless little huff, as you halfheartedly try to sound annoyed. it doesn’t work. in an attempt to hide your growing smile, you tuck your face into your knees. ”whatever.”
then your gaze shifts. towards that expanding starry sky, the vibrant flicker of the moon, like a moth to a flame. helpless to its charms. it looks like a giant sponge cake, the kind you and suguru used to make when that was the only recipe you knew — you’d eat from the batter, and he’d scold you. then he’d do it too, when your back was turned.
a smile settles on your lips. in every star, you find a new memory; and the fuzzy nostalgia that engulfs you makes your heart feel bare. ”i just wanted to pet your cat,” you recall, softly.
suguru nods. gazing down at you, basking in the expression on your face — peaceful and relaxed, a little more yourself. so effortlessly pretty, bathed in moonlight. ”yeah. i remember.”
he allows the memory to sweep him away, for a second or two. recalling the sight of you, all those years ago, an unfamiliar child in his backyard. it was like you had just fallen out of the sky. quiet and meek, but looking at his cat with an excited glimmer in your eyes.
”you just pointed to her and expected me to understand,” he continues. a grin blooms on his face, hopelessly endeared. ”you were shy back then.”
a raise of your eyebrow. ”um? i’m still shy?”
suguru gives you a look. he doesn’t have to say anything — it’s written all over his face. the classic suguru look, the kind where you can tell he’s itching to say oh, really now? the kind where he tries to look judgemental, but never quite manages to hide the amusement in his eyes.
a small giggle leaves your lips, and suguru smiles, once more. so helpless in the face of your joy.
”then we watched movies at my place.”
you hum. ”it was fun.”
”yeah.”
another bout of silence. soft, terribly precious. the air is chilly, but not enough to make you shiver; a mild summer night, pleasant on your skin and light on your heart. a gentle breeze tousles your hair. in the distance, you hear cicadas buzzing — a familiar sound. unchanging.
(if only everything else could stay the same, too.)
”do you remember what movie it was?”
a lazy smile plays at suguru’s lips, when he angles his face to look at you. one eyebrow raised. ”is there a point to this, or —?”
”i just wanna reminisce.”
suguru pauses. your eyes trail across the view that stretches out before you, from the moon to the distant city lights, as you fidget absentmindedly with the strings of your hoodie. he thinks to himself that you look a little lost. gaze forgotten, within the depths of that endless night sky.
no more teasing, he decides, tactfully. instead, he opts to answer your question; softly, as if he could hurt you if he raised even a single octave of his voice. ”whisper of the heart,” is all he says.
a hum, as you nod. decisively. ”the best one.”
suguru turns his head away, and mutters something under his breath. but you can still hear him — and you know he wants you to.
”spirited away is the best one…”
out of the corner of your eye, you shoot him a thoroughly unimpressed look. he bites back a soft bout of laughter, teeth sinking into his lip gently, not enough to sting.
”you’re so basic,” you grin.
”you just want to feel quirky,” suguru shoots back, instantaneous. ”and you only like it because of seiji.”
”you only like spirited away because of haku!”
suguru closes his eyes, and leans back a little, crossing his arms in a childish fashion — and you know he only does it to make you laugh. ”i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies.
”oh please,” you scoff. ”you really think i don’t remember your queer awakening?”
”hm? what was that?” feigning confusion, he puts a hand to his ear. but there’s a mirth in his eyes, impossible to miss. ”you’re gonna have to come closer, i can’t hear you from here.”
another unimpressed look. you exhale, something in between a huff and a chuckle. ”if i get any closer i’ll be in your lap, dumbass.”
suguru bites his cheek, softly. gulping down the words that almost slip off his tongue.
(i wouldn’t mind.)
”sorry, say that again?”
a little push meets his shoulder, as you roll your eyes. ”yeah, yeah. whatever.”
the banter dies down, as fast as it appeared. then a smile breaks out across your faces, in tandem, the atmosphere shifting into something more sincere — and doesn’t it always, when you’re watching the starry sky with the one you love most?
when suguru continues, his voice has taken on that softer tone, again. the one he only ever really uses around you. ”i liked thinking of us as them,” he admits. ”me as haku, and you as chihiro.”
a soft blink. then your smile grows, sweet like syrup. ”.. hehe. that’s funny,” you cross your legs. palms flat against the roof, knee leaning comfortably against suguru’s. ”i always thought of us as seiji and shizuku.”
there’s something faraway, in your eyes. something suguru can’t look away from.
tentatively, his fingers dig into the skin of his palms, and he speaks. absentminded, a little uncertain.
”… they get married at the end, don’t they?”
a pause. then your gaze snaps over to suguru’s, suddenly mischievous — and he regrets opening his mouth.
”oh?” you purr, almost beaming. inching closer, like a predator sizing up their prey. ”oh shit? are you about to propose, mister geto?”
”i’m just stating facts,” he quips, hands raised in defense. desperately hoping you won’t notice the red tint crawling up his neck, obscured by the darkness of the night.
”incorrect facts,” you grin. if you notice the blush on his face, you don’t say anything. ”they get engaged. not married. big difference.”
suguru huffs. it’s small, as he tries to keep himself from smiling. the beating of his heart is faint, a tender rhythm, stirred by every move you make. he pushes the words he yearns to say back down his throat.
(i wouldn’t mind that, either.)
again, silence blooms. curling around the space between you. it feels nice, just to be like this; just you, and your very best friend, under the soft lighting of the moon. as if you’re the only ones who exist, in an otherwise empty universe — devoid of space and time. like the night could just stop, and stretch on forever. 
there’s an unspoken question in the air, though. one suguru is still waiting for you to answer. one you refuse to answer properly, until he does the same.
you’ve both noticed, of course. even if no one else has, neither of you could ever miss it. suguru has noticed the turmoil in your eyes, and you’ve noticed the fatigue under his. those little signs of stress, as everything around you keeps spinning on; as the future grows closer, with every passing day.
(it’s overwhelming, you both muse.)
— and finally, you’ve had enough.
”suguru,” you call out, and his gaze finds yours instantly. ”have they been stressing you out, lately?”
suguru blinks, eyelashes fluttering softly. a little sleepy. they.
then he smiles. maybe a bit weak, but still as sincere as always — resigned to the fact that he really can’t hide anything from you, after all.
(of course you’d notice it. he was stupid to think you wouldn’t.)
a hum, as he breathes in the air and then exhales it all. trying to formulate the words inside his head, turn the feelings into syllables. and you’re patient. silent, as you admire the way moonlight caresses his skin.
”i’ll manage.” is what he finally says, and your lips curl down into a frown. ”they’ve just been getting on my case, again. you know how they are.”
suguru closes his eyes, and you inch closer to him. barely, by a hair, just to let him know you’re still listening. that you’re waiting for him to continue.
it’s tough, for him. opening up, being vulnerable.
but he knows you won’t do it unless he does, too. so he takes that leap, despite the insistent voice in his head urging him to just keep it to himself.
”it’s just… all these expectations, you know?” he meets your eyes, a little sheepish. downplaying his troubles so smoothly, as if you wouldn’t notice. ”i’m used to it by now, but sometimes i guess it still gets to me.”
you hum, and he continues.
”i feel like i have to be… solid,” he decides on. ”put-together. responsible, and mature.” a sigh, as he wrings his hands together. ”and that’s fine — but it’s like they have everything planned out. like everyone does. how i should act, where i should go…”
suguru gnaws at the flesh of his bottom lip, so focused on verbalizing his thoughts that he barely notices your fingers curling around his. but he still squeezes them, lightly. as naturally as breathing.
”it’s like my future’s already set in stone. and i’m just expected to follow it,” he looks up at the moon. ”which is also fine. i already know what i want to do. but somehow, all of it just feels so…”
he pauses. unsure of how to put it.
”… suffocating?” you finish for him. 
there’s a second in which suguru can do nothing but breathe. as if frozen, stuck in motion, caught off guard by how deeply your minds are intertwined.
— what a wonderful thing, to have someone pluck the words you’re afraid to say from the back of your throat.
a smile blooms on his face, and a gratitude shines in his eyes. almost overflowing. 
(you’ve always been the only one who ever seems to understand.)
”yeah,” he sighs, relieved. and suddenly his chest feels a lot lighter. odd, how just the tilt of your voice when you say a certain word can chase that discomforting sensation away. 
”don’t listen to them,” you say, assuredly, so softly it’s like you’re coaxing him into believing you. it works. ”they don’t matter.”
suguru chuckles, rueful. ”they’re my parents.”
”so? they aren’t you.” you nudge his side with your elbow. ”they have no say in how you live your life. you don’t need to live up to all those expectations, you know.” 
a soft little breath leaves your lips, and suguru wonders how you seem to always soothe his heart so easily. ”you just need to be suguru,” you mumble, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. ”that’s all.”
a moment passes. suguru parts his lips, closing them again when no sound comes out. and then finally, he speaks.
”… yeah,” he muses. ”maybe.”
”definitely,” you huff. ”trust your best friend. i know best.”
”careful,” he teases, tilting his head lazily to meet your gaze. ”you’re starting to sound like them.” the smile on his face only grows when you gape at him, wholly offended, as if you can’t believe what he just said.
”wha — suguru…” you whine, sleepy, clinging to the sleeve of his shirt. digging your nails into the fabric and tugging on it childishly. ”don’t say that. i’m nothing like them!”
a giggle pushes past his lips. ”sorry, sorry,” he soothes, ruffling your hair with his palm. rough hands, big and warm, that always seem to find their way to your skin. ”i’m just kidding. thank you. really.”
the smile that he gives you glows brighter than the moon. he squeezes your hand, softly — a silent i love you. eyes closed, formed into little crescents, and when he speaks he sounds so painfully sincere. 
”i think i’ll be fine as long as i have you,” he says. it comes out sounding something like a prayer. 
the words make your eyes soften. melting into a mellow hue, so full of affection that you can almost taste it on your tongue. 
”everything will turn out fine,” you murmur, consoling him. still not letting go of his hand. ”you have your whole life ahead of you, you know.”
he chuckles. the sound would be sweet if it didn’t have that teasing tilt to it, the one that tells you his amusement is at your expense. ”now you’re starting to sound like my grandma,” he quips, as if itching for something to bicker about.
but you only pout, and let your fingers slip from his. the warmth that leaves you is so jarring that you’re almost tempted to take his hand into yours again — but you just frown at him. ”i can never win with you, huh?”
suguru shrugs. ”need to keep you humble,” he chirps, pulling at your cheek gently. a lazy grin on his lips. ”we don’t want that ego of yours to grow as big as satoru’s.”
trying to keep yourself from grinning with him, you slap his hand away, playfully. ”that would never happen.”
”uh-huh.”
you give him a look.
”my bad.”
a moment passes. gradually, you feel your heart beginning to melt — just a little, but enough to get your voice hopelessly soft on your tongue. the glimmer of the moon embraces every cell in your body, painting over your features with a certain kind of bleeding tenderness. it’s hard to stop it from seeping out.
”you know that i love you. right?” tumbles from your lips, breathed out into the sky, words too heavy to be held back. ”even if your parents give you trouble, and everyone else, too — i’m still on your side.”
”always,” you promise, devotedly earnest. meeting his gaze. and suguru can’t look away.
something flickers, in the depths of his eyes, like a shooting star. something delightful.
he doesn’t quite know what to say. but he nods; almost meek, in a way, and it makes your chest ache. suguru’s always been the type to keep his troubles to himself, content with never letting anyone see into his heart — even if he’d like them to deep down.
if you can be there for him, even just for a night, then that’s more than enough.
he lets the silence linger for a while longer, soft breathing and the rustling of grass filling the space where your words would be. then he looks at you with newfound determination, suddenly, eyes shining in a way you don’t recognize. 
”— and you know that i love you, too.” 
a moment passes. 
an affirmative hum buzzes in your throat, and you give him the ghost of a nod, shying away from his deep gaze. hoping to escape the intimacy of the question. but he doesn’t let you, stare so heavy that you have no choice but to meet his eyes again, after he nudges your hand with his.
the words that fall from his lips surprise you. something akin to a pout plays on his lips, but it’s more serious than that — he looks dejected.
”… do you, though?” he pushes, a troubled frown on his lips. ”do you know that i love you? just as much as you love me?” 
at your stunned silence, suguru sighs, bringing a hand up to smooth over the crease between his brows. ”sometimes i worry that you don’t,” he admits. ”you always think too much. but i don’t want you to ever have to worry about that.”
his voice is firm, when he continues. ”i don’t want you to ever second-guess my love for you,” he declares, and you cower a little under the intensity of his gaze. playing with your fingers instead of looking at him. ”— so i want your answer.”
when his hand finds its way to your face, you stiffen, just barely. but it’s soft, the way he cups your jaw; the warmth of his palm smoothing over your skin. gentle, as he forces you to meet his eyes, tilting your chin up slightly. a bold move, even though physical contact is no stranger in your dynamic. you feel your heart pick up in speed. 
”do you know that i love you?” he asks, and it sounds almost pleading. you can only find it in you to stare. 
suguru’s eyes are filled with something, something you’d like to call love. and they’re looking deep into yours, almost as if coaxing you into drowning in their hue. mesmerizing. ridiculously pretty. if you stare into them for too long, you fear that you might never be able to look away.
but they’re sweet, and warm. painted over with worried hue, something very kind. familiar. the same eyes that have soothed you for as long as you can remember. 
in your flustered state, you can do nothing but blink dumbly — gaze darting from his eyes, to his forehead, to the sky, to his lips. 
he can tell the eye contact makes you nervous, but some part of him won’t allow you to squirm away. this is important. he needs to know that you know. he doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep at night, otherwise.
finally, you squeak out an affirmative yes. and that’s all it takes for him to relax; in one smooth motion, his hand leaves your skin, a relief having bloomed in his eyes. 
”okay. that’s good,” he exhales. 
swallowing down a gulp, your gaze drifts away from the boy to your left. suguru is terrifying, really — doing stuff like that out of nowhere. you check your pulsepoint, discreetly, just to make sure your heart is still beating. 
”alright, then,” he suddenly proclaims, breaking the fleeting silence. ”your turn.”
a blink. your eyelashes flutter in confusion, as you gaze up at him, a question painted on your features. suguru glances at you out of the corner of his eye.
”you’ve been stressed, lately,” he remarks. stating the obvious so you don’t have to. with a soft gaze, eyes that shimmer with understanding. ”i can tell, you know?”
(yeah. he always can, can’t he?)
”… uh,” you croak. clearing your throat and attempting to gather your thoughts, hoping the words will find their way to your lips. ”well. i dunno, really...”
suguru emits a low, affirmative noise, not looking at you. opening up like this makes you feel so uncomfortable. but it’s suguru. you trust him. and you know he won’t let you get away from this, either; he’ll stay up all night if he has to. just waiting for you to put your faith in him.
a sigh leaves your lips, finally, and it comes out sounding just a tad exhausted. ”i… guess i’ve just been thinking, lately.”
and, really, it’s an understatement. thinking is all you’ve been doing, for these past few weeks. thinking of this, and of that. the past and the future. him and you.
suguru hums. an unspoken encouragement.
”everything is just so…” you move your hands, haphazardly, hoping they’ll make the words easier to say. but nothing comes to you. everything is all jumbled up, inside your mind, and it’s just — 
”overwhelming,” you finish. the word falls off your tongue like a tidal wave. ”everything passes by so quickly, and…” you bite your lip. ”i feel like i can’t catch up. i can’t visualize the future at all, and that’s…”
(it’s scary.)
”— it just makes me feel confused.”
suguru waits. patient, attentive, making sure you get all the words out before he speaks. as grounding as the moon, as warm as the sun. 
when you don’t elaborate further, avoiding his gaze, he opts to finally soothe you.
”that’s understandable,” he chimes, voice buzzing with care. ”you don’t have to think about the future right now. living in the present is enough,” a breeze drifts by, tousling his black hair. ”.. it’s for the best, really.”
a smile. it’s a little sad, as you wring your hands together. ”i know,” is all you can say. because you do. it just doesn’t change anything.
the sensation of your nails scraping against the tiles of the roof is discomforting, but you don’t stop. when you part your lips, your voice comes out tiny. barely above a whisper.
”i’m so afraid of change.”
suguru looks at you. his gaze softens, impeccably.
”everything keeps changing. all the time,” you bite into the flesh of your cheek, harshly. ”i hate it.”
”that’s understandable, too,” suguru soothes. tentative, as his hand goes to rest on your head, smoothing down your hair gently. ”change is unavoidable. but you get better at dealing with it.”
”mm, i know.”
”and some things stay the same, too.” 
you glance up at him, and his eyes crinkle. there’s something unspeakable in them, something that’s always been there. light and heavy, all at once. something a little bit too wonderful for words.
suguru smiles. almost a little shy, as he looks into your eyes. ”like you and me.”
a deep love unfurls in your chest, warming you up from the inside out. fuzzy and tingly. but with it comes a deep sadness, bittersweet, that you can’t chase away no matter how hard you try; like a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe, no matter how many times you try to scrape it off against the concrete.
like you and me.
(he doesn’t know that’s what scares you the most. the thought of that one thing changing, while you just stand there, helpless to stop it.)
”yeah,” you breathe. a wounded little breath.
suguru notices it, despite your vague attempts to act like nothing’s wrong. he notices the fear in your voice, the uncertainty. and once again, he gets the impression that you look a little lost. like you aren’t sure where to plant your feet.
it bothers him. an itch he wants to scratch away. but before he can get to the bottom of it, you begin to speak, once more.
”with you, it’s like…” a breath flows from your lips, as you try to find the words. but this time, they come to you with relative ease. ”if i could do my life over again, and make everything turn out different… then i’d still always keep you.”
silence. you continue, suddenly a little embarrassed at the honesty in your tone. but it’s too late to back out now. 
”and even if everything else changes, if i could pick just one single thing to keep — then it’d be you, too.” the smile on your face is small, a little sheepish. “that’s how it is, so…” 
you trail off. not sure what else to say. suguru isn’t, either; he feels just a little bit stunned, in the face of your sincerity. yet he parts his lips, softly, words making themselves manifest before his mind can even begin to catch up.
”i don’t think i’ve ever told you this,” he begins, not entirely sure where the words will take him. blinking up at the sky, entranced, whilst you look at him quizzically. ”you always call me your guardian angel, right?”
the question makes your lips curl up. it’s a habit of yours, one that’s become almost muscle memory. you don’t remember how it started, but it’s in everything suguru does; from the way he can always tell when you’re feeling overwhelmed, to the way he never fails to bring you a coffee right before your exam starts. 
suguru is always looking out for you, even when you’re apart. like a guardian angel. yours.
you nod. ”because you are.”
suguru smiles, breathing out a fond chuckle, and then shakes his head. ”it’s the opposite.”
you turn to the man beside you, and he’s already looking at you. with his pretty, soothing brown eyes, and the barely visible dark circles beneath them. his gaze is warm and fond, grateful in a way that makes your chest squeeze tight. you melt a little, under its weight.
”you’re my guardian angel,” he says, sickeningly sweet. ”always have been. even back then.”
inhaling the mild air, suguru lets his eyes flutter shut. the taste reminds him of the summer vacations you used to have as kids, when you would ride your bikes to the nearest river and play all day. stopping by any ice cream stand you found on the way there; you always took a bite out of his without asking, and he always tried to get angry at you. but he never could. 
on your way back home, the sky was always dark. a soothing blue hue, stars glittering in the distance, while the moon looked close enough to touch. a night just like this one. you’d walk, together, talking about everything and nothing — sometimes he’d carry you on his back. not once did he drop you. 
a breath, deep and drawn out as he exhales, basking in memories you aren’t privy to. a saccharine smile painted on his lips.
”without you…” he muses, voice a little breathless. fond, and somewhat helpless. but he’s smiling. ”i don’t really know what i’d do, to be honest.”
a moment passes.
”it’s the same for me,” you echo, words escaping your throat before you even get the chance to realize their weight. gaze stuck to the stars, as always. ”i can’t imagine life without you.”
suguru doesn’t speak, afraid that his heart may crawl out his throat if he does. the honeyed smile on his face says more than words ever could, anyway. 
a small bout of laughter leaves your lips. sudden, sad, dripping with longing. it surprises you, catches you off guard — like something within you just overflowed. 
“you know what my biggest fantasy was?” you grin, ruefully. maybe just a little manic. ”i used to think about it all the time, when we were kids.”
suguru looks at you in silence, but there’s a confusion in the way he tilts his head.
there seems to be a knot of some kind, stuck in the very bottom of your chest. something that makes it hard to speak. ”i’d get on a train, and just kinda… leave,” you breathe, hoping it’ll unclog your throat. it doesn’t. ”you know? to somewhere far, far away.” 
and suddenly, the world grows just a little blurred. suguru can see it, in your eyes — you’re someplace else now. gaze trained on something he can’t see. there’s an amused touch to your voice, but also something rather pitiful. a childish wish that never came to fruition.
there’s regret, there, suguru thinks; something close to pain.
”maybe, like… a small port town,” you continue, closing your eyes. “with a cute little café close by, or whatever… somewhere you can see the sea.” 
another breath. you pretend it tastes like salt, like an ocean breeze. then you swallow the lump in your throat, and whisper. ”with you.”
when you finally muster up the courage to meet suguru’s eyes, they shine with nothing but pure understanding. he doesn’t say anything, but he understands. he’s always been like that. not a single word is needed for him to ground you, the way a rock always meets the bottom when it’s thrown into the depths of a lake. 
suguru’s comfort is as natural to you as the gravity that keeps the stars up in the sky.
the voice you’ve grown so used to hearing reaches your ears again, and it’s a low sound, a little raspy. but soft. achingly so, enough that you could almost miss it if you weren’t always so aware of every word that falls from his lips.
suguru looks up at the moon, in tandem with you, and lets the ghost of a smile show. ”… you know what my biggest fantasy was?”
his gaze is sincere, a little forlorn; hopelessly softened, as you meet his eyes. they’re painted over with something sweet, and something that looks just a little bit like regret.
a tilt of your head beckons him to continue, and the corners of his lips curl up further. 
”running away with you,” he breathes. ”anywhere at all. wherever you wanted to go, i’d follow.”
for a moment or two, all you can do is stare. 
you feel your lips part, but no sound comes out, nothing at all. suguru’s hair sways with the breeze, softly, and the light of the moon makes him look somewhat ethereal. like he could disappear if you blinked. 
the silence that blooms in the space between your words is fragile. precious, if a little overwhelming, as it stretches out before you — growing heavier with every passing second. so tender that it makes you feel sick to your stomach, as if the sound of the wind whistling could shatter it into pieces. 
(your heart aches, aches, aches.)
a weak laugh bubbles up from within your throat, something raw and tender hidden behind a veil of faux amusement. something vulnerable you're trying to cover up, like the glassiness of your eyes.
like a memory that never got to happen.
”what, so you’re saying we could’ve been by the seaside by now…?” you groan, forehead slumping against your knees with a bonk. ”what the hell, dude…” 
suguru lets out a chuckle, resting his jaw on the heel of his palm and looking down at you with a smile on his face. one that reaches his eyes, glimmering with something akin to starlight.
”we can still go there,” he consoles you, reaching over to tousle your hair with a palpable softness. ”to the seaside, i mean. i’ll take you.”
for a while, you don’t say anything. a pout plays at your lips, as you attempt to get your emotions under control. 
then you lean back, to lie down flat on the roof. the movement is so sudden that it stings a little when the back of your head meets the tiles, and you wince — a soft but exasperated murmur of careful comes from the boy on your left.
your elbows go to cushion your head, as you take in the immenseness of the sky. ”alright, then,” you hum. ”take me there sometime soon.”
suguru blinks. then his lips curl up. ”got it,” he chirps. mentally mapping out a nice spot, trying to remember the timetables at your local train station.
(next week, maybe. a picnic by the sea. he’ll make those sandwiches that you like.)
then he follows your lead, and goes to lie down on his back. right by your side, so close he can smell the fading scent of your shampoo, curled up right next to you. breathing out a sigh as he takes in the night sky in all its glory. 
there’s something tender, in the air. something that doesn’t need words. a kind of comfortable silence that you’ve learned to treasure, whenever suguru is with you.
so you simply stare at the dark veil over the city, in tandem with him — a pitch-black blanket sewn with stardust.
everything expands, before your very eyes; an infinite cosmos, with all the light you could ever want. the stars blink down at you, as if saying hello, mapping out the galaxy. you try to find the constellations you’re familiar with, the ones suguru have taught you about in the past, but nothing really comes to you.
it’s nice, though. just staring at the stars in wonder.
an exhale, as you breathe in, and then out. you part your lips to whisper, breaking the sleepy silence.
”the stars are so pretty….” 
suguru hums, the sound buzzing right by your ear. a soothing summer lullaby, that only you get to hear. ”yeah,” he whispers back.
a moment passes.
then you both part your lips to speak; smoothly, in a fashion that would be embarrassing if you didn’t feel so terribly safe in each other’s company. simultaneous, as the sentence tumbles from your throats.
”and so are you.”
silence. the seconds stretch on, and on. everything goes quiet.
you’re the first one to burst into laughter — deep, the kind that comes from the very bottom of your stomach. almost wheezing, as you try to catch your breath, arms snug around your shaking body. suguru follows close behind, trying to contain his laughter, but you can hear his little chuckles clear as day.
”eww, what the fuck?” you grin, shifting to lie on your side so you can get a good look at his face. ”you’re so corny!”
suguru snorts. ”i heard you say it too, dumbass.”
a little giggle flows from your lips, and you slump against his shoulder, still trying to control your breathing. suguru curls an arms around your midriff, bringing you closer. muscle memory, to make it more comfortable for you.
”haah…..”
the smile on your face shines brighter than the stars, suguru thinks, looking at you with a bleeding kind of fondness. as if you’re the only thing worth looking at.
”i hope things stay like this forever.”
the light of the moon shines down on the roof, bouncing off the white of your teeth. your canines shine in the dark as you grin, youthful — but there’s a sadness in your eyes, now. one that suguru will never fail to notice.
(one he’ll always yearn to smooth away, the same way his thumb always goes to wipe at any stray eyelashes on your skin, or crumbs at the corner of your mouth. muscle memory.)
”they will,” he assures you, reaching over to find your hand. enveloping it in his bigger one, cradling it, linking your fingers together and squeezing them softly. ”i’ll make sure that they do.”
a chuckle leaves your lips, but suguru thinks it sounds a little meek. like you still don’t believe him.
”i mean it,” he reiterates. more serious this time.
”i know,” you grin. ”but, i mean —”
a moment passes, and then your grin falters. ”you can’t promise that, though.” the expression on your face seems sort of pained, now, troubled by something. ”maybe we’ll move away from each other, or just drift apart, or —”
”that would never happen to us —”
”maybe you’ll meet someone.”
”a nice guy, or girl…” a sigh, as you run a hand through your hair. ”and then you’ll… i dunno. get married, i guess. and then eventually you’ll have kids, and buy a house, and —” 
a pause. in a smaller voice, you continue. almost childlike. ”you’ll leave me behind.”
suguru bites back a scoff. it takes concentrated effort. he turns to look at you, but you won’t meet his gaze, and a frown finds its way to his lips. ”… do you honestly think that’s what i want?”
another moment passes you by. more seconds lost, never to return. ”… isn’t it?”
suguru sighs, a little exasperated. maybe just a little hurt, too. ”marriage and kids aside…” he mutters, burning holes into your skin with his steadfast gaze. determined, self-assured. the tilt of his voice leaves no room for doubt. ”there’s only one person i love.”
resisting the temptation to keep your eyes away from him becomes nearly impossible — so you let your gaze trail over, and take him in. in all his glory, silky black hair framing his face, a soft look painted over his features. looking at you as if you matter, as if nothing matters except for you.
and again, something breaks out across the scope of his iris, a shooting star you don’t know what to do with. he looks so hopelessly sincere. 
for a second, all you can do is stare.
then you nod, solemnly. ”satoru, right?” you hum. ”you’re gonna break my heart if you keep bringing him up when we’re together, sugu.”
you don’t need to see his face to know that he’s giving you that unimpressed look, again. the suguru look. he rolls his eyes, and you bite your cheek to stop yourself from smiling.
”i love him too, but that’s different,” he huffs.
”how so?” you prod, eyes crinkling. but there’s something a little meek about the question. he notices it, of course, because what doesn’t suguru notice?
something soft curls around his features, and a hum buzzes in his throat. a heavy tenderness bleeds into his voice. ”i wouldn’t die for satoru,” he says, simply.
a moment passes.
”… you totally would.”
”huh?” suguru blinks. ”no, of course not. are you insane?”
”suguru,” you sigh. ”you are literally the most self-sacrificial bitch i’ve ever met —”
”well, obviously i’d take a bullet or two, but —”
”what do you mean obviously —”
”— you’re the only person i’d die for.”
suguru is smiling, now. amused, sincere. almost on the verge of laughter, the sweet and soft kind that always turns your heart into a puddle. his eyes almost seem to glimmer, in the night, and it’s all you can see for a while. as you try to gather your thoughts, get the right words out.
”… always so dramatic,” you murmur, at last, a little gruff. his smile grows. you shift a little more, lying on your side to face him with a serious expression. ”don’t tell satoru that, okay? he already has it out for me. at this rate he’ll kill me and steal you away.”
a chuckle rumbles through his chest, deep and fond. you continue, a frown tugging at your lips. ”… and i wouldn’t want you to die for me, anyway.”
suguru lets a giggle slip, a bit too sleepy to hold it back. ”mm, i know. but if it ever came down to it, then i still would.” he shifts, too, lying on his side to face you properly.
”to me,” he exhales, and he’s so close you can smell the mint off his breath — ”as long as you’re by my side, i can make it through absolutely anything.”
the smile on his face is boyish. all teeth and crow’s feet, blooming in the light of the moon, a flower just for you. it’s perfect, you think. you don’t want a single day to pass without you seeing it. 
”me too,” you mumble, linking your pinkies together. a silent promise. ”so don’t die. ever.”
suguru’s eyes soften. 
then he hums, absentmindedly. ”… well. i mean,” he clicks his tongue. ”eventually i will. that’s not really something i have a say in.”
a roll of your eyes. ”alright, smartass,” you scoff, and suguru’s eyes crinkle with humour. ”just don’t die before i do, then.”
a hand comes to touch your skin. and it’s sudden, warm, but you don’t flinch away. suguru smooths over your cheek with the back of his hand, seemingly unable to stop himself. soothing, as he exhales a soft breath.
”… i think i’d prefer that to the alternative, honestly,” he admits.
you furrow your brows, softly. a part of you wants to protest, to call him a selfish prick — for even thinking the thought of leaving you behind without a best friend.
but something in you knows he won’t budge, on this one.
(it’s childish, in a way. stubborn, for him to take a joking conversation so seriously. but suguru doesn’t think he could even jokingly suggest that he’d survive without you.)
”seriously, though,” his voice takes on a firmer tone. ”i wouldn’t leave you behind like that. it’s us we’re talking about. you and me.” 
he says the words like they’re undeniable — because they are. there is no him without you. that’s always been the case, hasn’t it? 
suguru stops to think. do you not feel the same? there’s still a crease between your brows, a sign of worry that’s impossible to dismiss. he can’t help but wonder just how long you’ve been thinking about this; how many nights have you spent sleepless, thinking of the future? of the possibility that it entails your parting?
(the thought makes him feel a little bit nauseous.)
”are you afraid that we’ll grow apart?” he asks, into the haze of the summer night. it resounds in the air around you, softly spoken, gentle but coaxing. almost pleading you to open up to him.
and it’s a stupid question, really. 
of course you are. it’s the only thought that really scares you.
time moves so, so fast — always leaving you behind. who’s to say that suguru won’t do the same? that he won’t be taken away from you, swept away by that flow? into the future, while you stay glued to the past — stuck on the roof of your childhood, while he moves on to better things?
the night sky is infinite. sometimes, on nights that are a little too long, when your mind has grown a little too muddled, you think of suguru as a star in that sky. blinking down at you, while you can do nothing but watch. hopelessly out of reach.
gaze trailing down to rest on suguru’s collarbone, you swallow the lump in your throat. a little too vulnerable to feel comfortable with looking into his eyes, afraid of what you’ll see in them.
but he’s patient. waiting, always waiting, for you to catch up. for as long as it takes.
”… of course i am,” you mutter, at last. a weak little thing. farther down the street, a car swooshes by, drowning the sound — but suguru still hears it clear as day. ”i mean, it’s just…”
a meek intake of breath. you blink, desperate to chase away the glassiness forming in your eyes. trying to grasp control over your wavering voice. ��even if you say that we won’t… it’s not like there’s any guarantee. you can’t know for sure.”
suguru wants to stop you, right there. wants to ensure you that he does know, that it’s the only thing he’ll ever know for sure. just that one fact; you and him. never one without the other.
wherever you’d go, he’d follow — that’s how it’s always been. that’s all he’ll ever need.
but he knows you. knows you better than he knows himself. and he knows that he needs to let you speak freely, without interruption, until you’ve gotten every last worry off your chest.
so he settles for simply looking at you, curled up and biting his lip to stop himself from speaking. wishing he could smooth away the moisture in your eyes, already — but the tears need to fall first. he knows it’ll make you feel better.
”i love you,” you whisper, and suguru’s heart claws its way up his throat. ”i love you, and i want to be with you forever — but…” a shaky inhale. ”but i can’t get rid of that fear. the idea of losing you… i just can’t deal with it.”
”don’t you think i feel exactly the same?” he cuts in, softly. 
a beat. you glance up at his face, for a split second, and then back down to his collarbone. a little fragile, curling into yourself as if hiding. ”i don’t know,” you sigh.
(suguru’s heart breaks.)
”i know that you love me too, and all. and i trust you. but…” you trail off, swallowing thickly. ”you already have your future planned out, and everything. maybe i just… don’t have a place in it.”
suguru scoffs, unable to bite back the sound any longer. it’s soft, but frustrated. ”there’ll always be a place for you in my future,” he vows. ”i wouldn’t accept anything less.”
you cower a little, under the warmth of his gaze. sweet, but stern. so distinctly suguru that it makes you falter.
”besides,” he clicks his tongue. ”i don’t need to follow the future that’s been planned out for me. i just need to be suguru.” a warm smile. ”right?”
at the sound of your own words, a light flush blooms on your skin. but for once, suguru isn’t teasing you.
”and you just need to be you,” he continues, arm still wrapped around your midriff. trailing up slowly, so that his hand can smooth over the back of your head. ”that’s all.”
”as long as both of us do that — we’ll always be together.” he looks into your eyes, and you think you spot a constellation inside his iris. ”won’t we?”
another moment of silence, the familiar comfort that settles between you. there’s no pressure to continue — but you do so, anyway. muddled mind still spinning, worried about this and that, despite suguru’s soothing words. 
a part of you can’t put your faith in that kind of future. one where the two of you are together, that you could envision so clearly when you were younger — when him and you was all that you knew for certain. it’s not as simple as it was back then.
(but another part of you desperately yearns for him to prove you wrong.)
”… but,” you mumble, shaky. ”what if it’s not that easy?” a chuckle pushes past your lips, humourless. ”i mean, you can’t possibly… always stay by my side, you know?”
there’s something childish, in the way you say it. like you’re still kids, and you’re whining for him not to leave you behind. selfish, in a way.
what right do you have to chain him to you?
suguru emits a hum. his eyelids flutter shut, for a few seconds — and then he opens them again. 
”… alright,” he drawls. ”let’s make a promise, then.”
confused, you glance up at him. he just smiles — responsible, dependable. your very best friend.
”have i ever broken a promise i made to you?” he asks, and you pause.
”… no,” you answer, hesitant. voice still a tad meek, a little helpless.
(and it’s true. not once has he broken one. when suguru makes a promise, he keeps it. you’ve always, always admired that about him.)
”right?” he grins, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. admiring your moon-lit features. ”so let’s do it.”
a frown tugs at your lips. furrowing your brows at him, your voice flows out, uncertain. ”promise… what, exactly?”
the moon glows, big and bright. hanging in the sky, a beacon of light, the same as it’s always been. suguru thinks you look radiant, under its illumination — even though you’re nervous, and a little teary eyed. just a single glance at your expression is enough to make his heartbeat soften.
you look like what home feels like. 
he could never bear to let that go, to let you go. his very best friend; the one thing in his past he has no qualms about. the one thing in his future worth hanging onto, cherishing fully. no matter what.
suguru parts his lips, smiling. he links your hands together. ”keep being you,” he implores, steadfast. ”and stay by my side.”
a moment passes. 
something crumbles, inside your chest. unable to break away from his gaze, all you can do is fall deeper into the hue of his eyes, crinkling softly — in the same way they always have. he squeezes your palm in his, tightly. a silent promise not to let you go.
— and then you realize something. the same realization that always comes to you, at the end of the day.
the man in front of you is just the same as the boy you met, all those years ago. the same boy who saw you climb over his fence, and let you pet his cat, and watched whisper of the heart with you even though he wanted to start with ponyo instead.
the same boy, always the same boy, no matter how much time passes. even though he’s all grown up now, features more defined. voice deeper and huskier. hands larger, with rougher skin.
he’s changed, just like you have — but he’s still just suguru. just that cool, sweet boy. a dorky guy who never, ever lets you fall too far behind.
a tremendous softness seeps through your veins. a kind of love, old and matured, carefully nurtured. the blinks you indulge in are slow, and your eyes shine with tears. it’s overwhelming, seeing him so up close, but you still can’t look away. he’s so beautiful it hurts.
”suguru…” is all you can sniffle, meekly.
your best friend is still smiling, fondly. wrapped up in you, as close as he can be. a familiar warmth, like a big fuzzy blanket draped over your shoulders; smelling of cedarwood and earl gray, and just a hint of coconut-scented shampoo. tailor-made just for you.
suguru never breaks his promises.
”but… you can’t,” you croak out, gasping as if searching for air. ”you don’t know if —”
”i do,” he cuts you off, gently. ”i do know.”
a breathless inhale of air, as you grasp tighter onto his nimble fingers. you feel meek, lost. not sure where to put your hands, or what to believe. ”how?” you ask, terribly fragile.
suguru takes a deep breath. oxygen enters his lungs, exiting as he breathes out. a soft flicker of life. his thumb goes to wipe away the stray tear that trickles down your cheek, his touch delicate. and then comes his response.
”— because i need you the way i need air.”
and, really, it’s a sappy thing to say. a little pretentious. he’d feel embarrassed if it wasn’t for the soft flicker of the moon, the intimacy of the moment. he simply couldn’t bear not to tell you the truth — even if you end up bringing it up tomorrow, just to tease him. he can deal with a little embarrassment, every once in a while. just for you.
fortunately for him, no thoughts of teasing run through your mind. maybe if you were in a better headspace, a little less of a wreck, you could muster the will to make fun of him a little. who do you think you are, shakespeare? i knew i shouldn’t have lent you that copy of romeo and juliet. — something light and amused, just to distract him from the rapid beating of your heart. 
but right now…
all you can do is take a deep breath. and you think you understand what he means, when that breath of life courses through your lungs.
”i’ll never leave you behind,” he continues, words so very self-assured that it leaves you reeling. rubbing comforting circles into the skin of your palm, without thinking. muscle memory. ”can you trust me on that?”
connected to his gaze, you stumble for something to say. anything. 
but then he smiles, again. that familiar, familiar smile. as soothing as a mother’s caress. and only one single word makes it past your lips.
”… okay.”
you do trust him. more than anyone else in the world. so you take that leap, no matter how frightening it is —
and the world narrows down to just the two of you.
just you, and him, in this one single moment. illuminated by the light of the moon, lying side by side and looking into each other’s eyes, on a roof you always find yourselves at one way or another. laughing and sharing secrets until the sun begins to rise; a silent promise that needs no words. 
(the promise of tomorrow. a summer that never quite seems to end.)
suguru cups your cheek. his touch buzzes with warmth, trickling down his wrist and through his veins — and you melt into his palm, eyes fluttering shut instinctively. the sight makes the corners of his lips curl up, hopelessly.
leaning close, he plants a kiss on your cheek. delicate, tender; his lips against your skin, a silent whisper of i love you. fervent, full of devotion. of a love that’s as steady as the sea.
”i’ll always, always be by your side,” suguru repeats, like a mantra. hoping you’ll feel his conviction through the whisper. ”you’ll always have me to fall back on. i promise.”
a little smile breaks out across your lips, meek and teary. as fragile as a sheet of glass, but still persisting in the dead of night. your voice wavers, as you raise your pinkie, right in front of his stupidly pretty face.
”pinkie promise?”
it’s a childish gesture. something to lighten the mood a little, make it all easier to chew. you expect him to roll his eyes, or raise an eyebrow, or tease you a bit. but he doesn’t.
instead, suguru raises his own pinkie, and curls it around yours. then he smiles. sweet and boyish, painted over with a rosy, tender nostalgia.
”— pinkie promise.”
and you believe him.
you believe him, because suguru has a way of making you do so, even when he has no idea what the hell he’s talking about. with that confident tilt of his voice, that makes it sound like he has all the answers in the universe — that flicker of genuine faith, in every word that falls from his lips, that tells you he truly does believe in them.
you believe him, because suguru is the only person in the world who’s never once broken a promise he made to you. not a single time. and some part of you suspects that if he ever did, he really would be okay with you cutting his pinkie off. a little frightening, the depths of his devotion. the pure loyalty that courses through his veins.
so you believe him.
you believe him because he’s suguru. and, just like you can't exist without him, he can't exist without you. never one without the other.
on instinct, you inch a little closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing him extra tight. face hidden away in the crook of his neck, just like you used to do when you were kids. he’s bigger now, harder to properly embrace — but still so very, very warm. 
and he squeezes you back, just as tight. comforting and grounding, and so, so secure. tugging you closer, like he needs to have you near to properly breathe. like he needs to feel that you’re there to relax, melting into the hug with a soft sigh. relieved, that you’re still with him. relieved at the promise that you always will be. 
wherever you go, he’ll follow. to the roof of his home, to the seaside, to the ends of the earth. the same way every star in the sky orbits around the center of the galaxy, endlessly, before burning out into the night.
the smell of cedarwood and earl gray floods your senses, filling your lungs as you nuzzle into his neck. he’s warm, and soft, and your very best friend. 
you close your eyes. indulging in his body heat, every familiar sensation that’s been etched into your bones for as long as you can remember. and you can tell he’s doing the same — breathing you in, arms resting securely around your back, pressing his cheek against the top of your head.
and maybe it’s true, after all. maybe suguru really does need you, just as much as you need him.
and maybe that’s all you really need to know.
the moon rests in the sky. smiling down at you, unchanging. a living proof that some things really do stay the same. 
— you hug suguru tighter, and decide that his presence is proof enough. 
791 notes · View notes
ezekiel-krishna · 15 days
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Message From Your Future Spouse ✉️
Memories linger, whispers in the air,
Longing for that someone, always there.
- The Poet
Please remember that this reading is not personalized, so only take which resonates with you.
For Personalized Readings, Message Me
Pick a Pile
Close your eyes for a quick moment and take a deep breath in. When you open your eyes slowly, pick the one that stands out to you the most!
|| 1 > 2 > 3 ||
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Pile 1
As I look up at the night sky, my dearest, I am reminded of the everlasting connection that binds us together. Much like The Star, our love radiates brightly, guiding us through life's uncertainties and lighting up our path.
When I gaze into your eyes, I witness the reflection of my dreams and ambitions, a ray of hope that guides me towards a future overflowing with love and happiness. My heart overflows with gratitude for the privilege of having you in my life, with every passing moment. Together, we face the challenges that cross our path, fully aware that our love is a wellspring of strength and resilience.
As we venture through life hand in hand, let us continue to treasure and nurture the bond that unites us, for it is a love that surpasses all barriers of time and space. Always remember that you are my guiding star, my eternal source of inspiration and solace. Countless adventures await us, and I eagerly look forward to them, knowing that with you beside me, everything is possible. Forever and always, I am yours.
Pile 2
Our connection goes beyond the boundaries of this world, as if our destinies were aligned in the cosmos. In your presence, I find solace and strength, a sanctuary where I can truly be myself. With each passing moment, our love grows deeper, like the roots of a mighty tree that withstand the test of time. We are two halves of a whole, perfectly complementing each other.
Your touch ignites a fire within me, a passion that burns brightly and never fades. Together, we navigate the ups and downs of life, hand in hand, facing challenges with unwavering faith in our love. In your embrace, I find peace and understanding, a sanctuary where I am embraced and cherished for who I am. My love for you knows no boundaries, transcending the limitations of this world. You are my rock, my confidant, my partner in all things.
With you by my side, I feel complete and ready to embrace whatever the future holds. Please know that my heart beats for you, my soul yearns for you, and my love for you will endure for all eternity. You are my everything, my one true love, and I am grateful every day to have you in my life. Together, we are bound by a love that is pure, deep, and everlasting. I love you now and forevermore.
Pile 3
Looking up at the moonlit sky, I am reminded of the mystical and captivating connection that we share. Like the ever-changing phases of the moon, our love ebbs and flows, exploring the depths of our souls with a sense of awe and enchantment. In the darkness of the night, I find comfort in knowing that you are my guiding light, illuminating the path towards our intertwined destiny. Just as the moon reflects the hidden truths and emotions within us, our bond is built on a foundation of trust and understanding.
Amidst the uncertainties and shadows, your presence shines like a beacon of hope, leading me towards a future brimming with love and endless possibilities. Your intuition and wisdom navigate me through life's twists and turns, offering solace and reassurance during moments of uncertainty. Together, we dance under the moonlight, embracing the mysteries of the universe and the depths of our hearts. Our love transcends the constraints of time and space, weaving a tapestry of dreams and desires that bind us together in a cosmic embrace.
In your eyes, I see the reflection of my soul, a mirror of love and acceptance that fills me with a profound sense of belonging and purpose. As we embark on this journey through life's phases, know that my love for you will never diminish, for you are my moon, my guiding star, my eternal companion. May our love continue to radiate brightly, like the moon in the night sky, casting its gentle glow upon our shared path. I am forever grateful for the precious gift of your love, and I eagerly anticipate a future overflowing with infinite possibilities and boundless love. With you by my side, I am whole, I am complete, I am home.
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272 notes · View notes
mingwrites · 15 days
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baby boy 🧸
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WARNINGS: smut (MDNI) , seonghwa x afab reader, reader is called mommy, reader is a gentle dom, mutual masturbation, cunnilingus, intercourse, cream pie
1,300 words
~♡༚✧˳⁺⁎
in the middle of the night, a knock at your door awoke you from your dreams. you heard a small whimper, and even in your hazy, half-awake state you knew it would be your roommate seonghwa up and needy again.
you sat up and glanced at the clock. 3:40. then you turned your head to the tall and thin shadow in your doorway. “seonghwa?” your groggy voiced whispered. “do you need mommy time again?”
“mhm,” a small voice replied, softly reverberating in the still, moonlit bedroom.
you patted your sheets. “alright, c’mere, baby.”
the shadow stepped into your room and you first noticed that seonghwa was naked save for a pair of briefs. you were then shocked to be met by a pair of puffy, red eyes. your spine shot up straight as you were suddenly fully alert. “honey, are you crying?”
seonghwa sniffled and rubbed his nose. “i was…a little while ago.” he sat beside you and you placed your hand on his shoulder. “i…um…i just…need you to make me feel better. please.”
“okay,” you said, your own mouth sinking into a pout. giving seonghwa a side hug, you told him, “i’ll make you feel better, i promise.”
“can…can you…get yourself off first?” he asked meekly, rubbing at his nose again. “i wanna watch.”
“of course, baby.”
when you first opened your legs for him, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. “you’re so pretty,” he would say, eyes glued to your pussy. the frown on his face was already fading, and he had stopped sniffling.
seonghwa let his hand rest idly over his crotch as he began to stiffen. he was completely transfixed your pleasure instead of his own. you moaned softly as you traced circles over your sensitive clit. “mm, mommy feels so good.”
“all for me?” seonghwa asked, finally returning to your eyes.
“all for you, baby boy. just for you.”
as you got closer, seonghwa became more and more exasperated. still only palming himself, you took pity on the poor, desperate man. you asked, “do you wanna take your pretty cock out, hwa?”
“mhm,” he nodded, lip between his teeth.
“you can do that, baby,” you assured him, “touch your pretty cock for mommy.”
he did as told, sliding his briefs down his thighs, exposing his tall, erect cock. he wrapped a hand around himself and began slowly pumping. immediately his stiff posture softened as he embraced the pleasure stemming from his cock and soaking into his tired body.
“how does it feel, baby boy?”
seonghwa whined, his eyes closed tightly like he would cry again. “it feels good, mommy.”
your stomach did a backflip at the sound of his sweet, needy little voice. not to mention, the sight of his frustrated, leaking cock in his delicate hand. you moaned louder as you felt your muscles tighten.
“good boy, seonghwa,” you panted out, “mommy’s so close for you."
seonghwa whimpered, his hand picking up its pace. “want mommy to cum,” he said, lips in a pout.
just then you did, a string of long moans escaping your lips as you closed your thighs around your hand. your body shook as the waves of orgasm overtook you. seonghwa stared all the while, savoring the sight, the sound, the smell of your pleasure.
he practically collapsed onto the mattress with a sob, landing on his stomach, cock still out and in need of attention. “mommyyy,” he whined, “you’re so pretty when you cum… thank you for letting me watch.”
you brought your fingers away from your clit and let your legs open again for seonghwa’s viewing pleasure, his face only inches away. “you’re always welcome to watch me, sweetheart. now, how about we get that cock of yours-“
“can i taste you?” he interrupted, eyes shining up at you like a puppy.
caught a little off guard, you asked, “do you want to?” although you should’ve known he would make such a request. seonghwa’s hunger was seemingly never satisfied.
“yes, mommy,” he answered.
“go ahead, baby boy.”
without wasting a second, seonghwa began lapping up your orgasm before wrapping his eager lips around your swollen, sensitive clit. he sucked diligently on your little nub, moaning against your pussy like a starved man. seonghwa had always had a way with his tongue, and he was always happy to use it.
soon, when the pleasure got to be too intense, you gently pushed seonghwa away. “too much, baby, it’s too much.” he wiped his mouth as he continued to stare at your helpless nub. "seonghwa," you whispered, giggling when his big, round, sleepy eyes finally met yours. "do you want me to take care of you, pretty boy?"
seonghwa simply nodded sheepishly, too shy to answer with his voice.
"do you wanna have mommy wrapped around your cock?"
he bit his lip. "mhm."
"lay back, baby," you instructed, gently pushing his bare chest into your mattress. you slid his underwear fully off, tossing them to the floor. then you straddled him, your dripping core hovering over his. seonghwa's hips bucked a little as he grumbled impatiently. you gently shushed him, petting his rosy cheek. "relax, baby, mommy's gonna take good care of you."
you lowered yourself onto his length, groaning as he parted your plushy walls. being filled was just what you needed. seonghwa did it so perfectly, the curve of his cock rubbing all the right spots like he was made just for you. but that wasn't what was important right now; you were taking care of him.
seonghwa stared down at where your bodies melded until he was fully inside when he dropped his head back and closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh of relief. he groaned greedily as you began to slowly rock on top of him, your soft muscles squeezing just right.
your pussy drooled at the sight of the slender man beneath you and between your legs. with just the tiniest coat of sweat, his skin glowed in the cool light of the moon. you watched as his chest expanded and compressed at an uneven rate, each time accentuating his abs. you followed those abs down to the light strip of hair that lead to the part of him you were most focused on; where he became a part of you.
you rocked your hips faster, grinding your clit into his pubic bone as you started to pant. you paid close attention to what seonghwa wanted-what he needed-and did your best to comply. at some point, his hands found their way to your ass and he held on tightly, encouraging further movement from your hips.
it didn't take long for him to come completely undone, his mouth agape as he let out every beautiful sound that arose in him. his eyes were closed tight as he begged for more. "yes, mommy, don't stop, please..."
even sooner, his moans became high-pitched and hoarse and his hips began to shake. "where do you want to cum?" you asked, not slowing your movements.
all seonghwa responded with was a series of whimpers and moans.
"use your words, baby boy," you reminded him.
"in...side..."
your heart fluttered at his words. he had never asked to cum inside of you before. were you really going to let him? to take that risk? in your sex-drunken haze, those questions left your mind as soon as they arose.
"cum for me," you said shakily, "cum for mommy."
with a choked sob, he did just that. his hot, thick cum filled you to the brim, and it felt amazing. not only to completely let go of any fears that had prevented it in the past, but also to give a friend what he needed. it made your heart warm and brain fuzzy. and pussy happy.
without letting his cock go, you laid your head on seonghwa's chest, feeling his heart beat on yours. he held you close, beginning to stroke your hair. "feel better, baby?" you asked.
"yes, mommy."
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missjadesfics · 1 month
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“My Gem”
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Paul Atreides x Reader Request: Yes Summary: Paul asks for the Emperor's eldest daughter's hand in marriage. Warnings: None, it's just pure fluff Word Count: 880 I don't own Dune or it's characters nor do I claim them as my own This is a short cute imagine, hope you all still love it x Comments likes, and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx
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Paul stood tall as he saw the Emperor’s daughter approach him with a graceful smile. He had asked for her hand in marriage, which she happily accepted. Paul had grown up with the Emperor’s daughter when he would visit Kaitain with his father and mother. The lush planet was always beautiful, and Paul had grown to love it as he grew older. During his visits, he became closer to the Emperor’s eldest daughter. Princess Y/n. In their teenage years, they both grew to have a crush on one another. Their hearts would skip a beat; when their eyes locked, they would shine like the brightest stars in the night sky. Paul replayed their first meeting as Y/n climbed up the steps towards him.
Paul’s head tilted as he observed Y/n play a game with her younger sister, Irulan. Paul smiled as Y/n hid behind a tree before jumping out and picking up Irulan. The younger sister squealed in delight as Y/n spun around, seeing Paul Y/n let Irulan down as the sister ran to find their father. Y/n wandered over to Paul with a smile “My Lord Atreides”, she curtsied gently, her eyes looking up through her lashes, a slight smirk on her lips. Paul bowed his head with a sly grin “Princess Y/n”, he held her hand, kissing her knuckles. “You are very pretty today, Princess”, Paul complimented Y/n, blushing at his words, looping her arm with his; they both strolled down the cobblestone path. “Thank you, Lord Atreides, and you are very handsome today, “ she giggled as Paul blushed, talking endlessly about their favourite things. Both of them knew then their relationship was only just beginning.
Paul exhaled, slowly holding out his hand for Y/n to grasp. Her fingers delicately slid along his palm, joining his side. His bride sat beside him at the wedding table, and his mother and father sat at the end with Y/n’s sister Irulan and her other sisters, Wensicia, Chalice, Josifa and Rugi. Paul had never met her other sisters besides Irulan, but he could see where all the daughters got their beautiful looks. Their mother, but to him, Y/n was the prized gem in his eyes. He held his wife’s hand on the table; a smile graced his facial features. Admiring her beauty, his eyes turned to look around the grand hall. Watching everyone cheer and laugh at his wedding celebration. When Paul stood up, he offered his hand for Y/n to grab. As she stood beside him, Paul led her out of the grand hall and towards the entrance. Strolling through the halls together, Paul made a detour from their new chambers and turned in a different direction. “There is something I would like to show you.”
Paul led her to the Caladan gardens, covering Y/n’s eyes. She could hear the calm sounds of water trickling and birds tweeting in the moonlit sky. Paul stopped and told Y/n to keep her eyes closed before his arms wrapped around her waist. His lips ghosted over her neck, his nose trailing over her pulse towards her ear. His eyes watched her chest rise and fall, his hands sliding up her stomach and up towards her chest. Y/n gripped his hands. “There will be plenty of time for that, Paul” “ she giggled; a deep chuckle fell from Paul’s lips; he grinned. “Hmm, I can’t wait that long, but if I must. Until then, open your eyes, my wife,” he breathed, kissing her jaw as her eyes fluttered open, taking in the gardens before her. “This is beautiful, Paul. I’ve always heard such stories about the Caladan gardens. Our gardens at home don’t compare to yours” She turned to look at Paul with shining eyes. Paul smirked, laughing. “Oh, I don’t believe that; your gardens are just as beautiful. As are you,” he whispered as he bowed. “May I have this dance?” he asked; she smiled, nodding, holding his hand. “You may,” she said, placing her other hand on his shoulder. Paul wrapped his other arm around Y/n’s waist as they danced in a circle. The only sounds were the waterfalls and sounds of fauna surrounding them as the newlyweds shared their first dance.
The Duke and Lady Jessica watched from the shadows with smiles. “Our son chose well; he will be just fine.” Leto’s arm looped with Jessica’s, and the woman hummed in agreement. “He has, but then they were destined to be together, Leto. She is his other half, as he is hers.” She pulled Leto away as they rejoined the wedding celebrations. Paul and Y/n were once again alone, away from prying eyes. 
Paul pressed his forehead against his wife’s; Y/n’s tender smile made him feel a thousand butterflies in his stomach. Fireflies danced around the husband and wife as Paul pulled her closer, breathing deeply and brushing his nose with hers. His eyes stared into hers lovingly.
“Careful there”, Y/n whispered. Paul chuckled lightly. “What do you mean?” Paul asked her with a slight smirk; his wife leaned in, her lips brushing his
“You look like you are falling in love” Paul licked his lips, his smirk broadening. “I already have, My Gem”
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tavs-tavern · 2 months
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"My Perfect Darling" - Tav X Astarion NSFW
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: AFAB Tav X Astarion
Warnings: blood, masochism, vaginal sex, dom Astarion
Word Count: 1000
Summary: One moonlit night, Astarion takes control and asks to sink his fangs into your neck
18+ only, minors dni!
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Pearly white fangs glimmered under the moonlight as they were bared. The Elf wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close.
“Would you like me to bite you?” he asks.
“I don’t believe you will,” you reply. 
Astarion chuckles. “Because I wouldn’t want to hurt my precious flower, is that correct? Wouldn’t want to make a single mark on their beautiful skin?”
He smells your neck before grazing his lips across your flesh. 
“That…is where you’d be wrong, my darling,” he says with a wide grin. “I’d love nothing more than to suck the blood from your neck, your arms, your soft thighs, your sides…to watch as the blood leaked and dripped down your body.”
His words make you shiver, and a warmth blossoms between your legs. “You think I’m into that sort of thing? you ask.
Astarion laughs. “You’re a masochist, love, you don’t have to hide that from me.” He helps you onto your back on top of the soft bed roll. 
“It’s a good thing the two of us are secluded in a far corner of camp away from everyone else,” the Elf says. “We wouldn’t want them to hear your…screaming.”
Astarion peppers your neck with kisses, his icy hands roaming under your shirt, groping at your chest, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. From the was he straddles you, you can feel his erection under his pants. 
“Let’s get on with it then, I don’t like to be kept waiting,” you tell him, smirking.
“Ohh so bossy,” Astarion says, tutting. “I’ll make you regret that attitude.”
Before you can retort, your pants are slipped off and thrown aside. Astarion pulls down your underwear, chuckling when he notices how your sex glistens. “So happy to see me,” he teases.
“Just hurry before anyone wakes up,” you laugh as you also remove your shirt.
Astarion’s fingers find your folds, playing with your wetness and pinching your hard clit. You gasp, his fingers cold but skilled. 
“Tell me what you want, darling,” he demands.
You don’t want to give in, but your core aches and your sex throbs. You need him, more than ever. “You, you, I need…you.”
Astarion laughs and licks a long stripe along your collar bone. “You’ll have me, don’t you worry, you’re all mine tonight,” he says.
The Elf pulls his length from his trousers. The head leaks, shining beads forming at the tip. It's long and girthy, and he aligns it with your entrance after spreading your legs. “You are mine,” he growls. 
He pushes himself inside you. You throw your head back and close your eyes tight as you feel him fill you. “Gods, yes!” he groans. Astarion returns his mouth to your neck. “Please, let me bite you,” he asks. 
You gasp as his cock slams into your sweet spot. You nod, giving him permission. Astarion opens his mouth wide and sinks his fangs into your flesh, blood immediately blooming and running down your neck.
Your eyes open halfway, and your heart pounds. The pleasure of the love making mixes with the pain of the Elf’s fangs, forming a delicious mixture of sensations. The pain only makes you wetter, and your pussy throbs around Astarion’s member.
He laps at your crimson blood, drinking it down. “You taste so divine, darling,” he coos, hands holding your hips. “So sweet, just for me.”
The pain in your neck surges down to your chest, then your torso, then your limbs. Your whole body stings in the best way, and you become lightheaded like you’re intoxicated. The pain combined with the feeling of Astarion’s tongue is almost enough to make you climax.  
Astarion’s fingertips dig into your hips, holding you in place as he slams into you. His leaking cock rams your sweet spot over and over, the air filled with the lewd sounds of flesh slapping flesh.
“You’re so…beautiful…like this,” he says between moans. A dribble of blood runs down to your chest, and the Elf licks it all away.
“Fuck,” you gasp softly. 
Astarion chuckles. “A whore for pain, just how I like you,” he growls. 
And he was right, you couldn’t have pleasure without some sort of ache or sting. Astarion’s fangs always did the trick, keeping him full while also keeping you wet. His bloody lips place kisses across your chest, leaving behind sanguine marks. Those marks, along with the healed puncture wounds that littered your body, were signs of his ownership. 
Astarion was fully in control of the situation at all times, making sure not to bleed you too much, only enough for him to have his meal and you to experience the feeling. His hypnotic presence also helped you to not be in too much pain, keeping it pleasurable.
Your eyes flutter as you look up at him. “Filling my belly, and I’ll return the favor and fill you,” he says.
You only wished that he could break out the whip or the leather crop, but that would wake the camp, so it would have to be saved for another night. Astarion pulls out almost all the way, leaving only his tip inside you, before shoving himself back in with force. The slam makes you yelp in surprise and ecstasy. 
“Shhh now, love, if the others find out that we’re fucking, well, we’d never hear the end of their teasing,” Astarion laughs. “Although, you may enjoy that, dirty thing.”
He continues to pump himself in and out of your heat, finally reaching his climax. “Get..r-ready…” he stammers before unloading ropes of release deep inside you. 
The warmth of his cum is similar to the warmth of your blood. You bite your lip to keep from crying out as you orgasm along with him. Your walls clench around his cock as bliss washes over you. Astarion sweats and shakes as he comes down from his high. 
“Amazing, simply wonderful,” he says. 
The Elf kisses your lips, smearing your blood across your chin and cheeks. “My perfect darling,” he coos, petting your head. 
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seelie-buddy · 1 month
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Let the world be our stage
summary : neuvillette and you meet to watch an opera; you, however, are fascinated by the dance of Coppelia and Copellius which leads to a change of plans
contains : dancing and other sweet things ; fluff ; gn!reader, this drabble is written in second person
word count : 550
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The cryo glazed path shines silver beneath the spotlight of the moon. An eternal waltz, two automatons sway. A gentle serenade echoing through the emptiness of the Erinnyes.
You watch. Across the ice, they dance, and the world comes to a halt around Coppelia and Coppelius.
Music in your ears, the wind in your hair, and a smile adorning your face, and carrying serenity in your heart.
Two automatons they might as well be, but how lovely they are, you muse to yourself. Dancing through the moonlit evenings, and until dawn leaks its colours into the sky.
Oh to waltz, to swing and sway, and oh to be them. To sway into the night and have laughter sing with midnight serenades.... ah, Fontaine had turned your heart into a romantic. A chuckle rang into the night as that thought amused you.
The sound of heeled boots clicking against the tiles breaks you out of your reverie. Turning to glance over your shoulder, you greet the one you were meant to rendezvous with. Approaching you is the Iudex of Fontaine.
"What's on your mind?" He asks after returning your greeting, your smile mirrored on his face.
"Nothing," you shake your head, eyes drifting back to the ice coated stage.
Of course, the automatons carried on, like two butterflies fluttering through flower-filled meadows; all the world but a backdrop for their performance.
Performance... Oh!
"Ah, if you've arrived that means the opera—"
"No need to fret," Neuvillette assures you, and you wonder if his smile was always this sweet, or if the moonlight honeyed the sight. "The opera doesn't start until half an hour. I finished my duties earlier than expected, but didn’t anticipate seeing you here so soon."
"I simply wanted to take some time to admire what deserves admiration," you raise a hand, gesturing towards the waltz under the moon.
No matter how much you watched, it elicited a happy thump in your chest. Everything, from the sparkling ice allowing the two meka to skate through the expanse of their stage, to the perfection in the movements of the dancing pair, it captured your heart and made you giddy. They swayed alike a flower's dance with the wind.
"It's marvellous," you whispered. Coppelia and Coppelius danced, swinging to and fro; a mysterious force attracting them together, pulling them in as they swayed in perfect harmony. It made you think of how the moon circles the earth as these meka so passionately do.
Ah... Fontaine truly was influencing you with its intoxicating beauty.
"Would you..." Neuvillette's words get cut short as he clears his throat, hesitant.
"Hmm?"
"Perhaps, would you like to dance?"
You quirk an eyebrow at the question, noting the bashful tone of his voice, while he watched your eyes reflect the constellations in the sky.
He extends his hand towards you, awaiting your answer.
"Of course," you place your hand in his, your smile only growing wider.
On the Rainbow Rose lined path, you dance. To the watchful gaze of the patrolling melusine, the sight was one worthy of being captured by a kamera.
Under the moon, surrounded by rainbow roses and the faint whispering of music in the breeze, you danced with him.
Smiles and laughter, music and dance, the moon floated high above, and two opera tickets laid forgotten in your pocket.
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a/n : there's something about neuvillette that's just peaceful and soothing ykwim? If you liked this drabble, maybe perhaps check out my previous work!
p/s : I originally had a different idea, but then I wrote this (so perhaps you can expect another neuvillette drabble hehe)
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jungkookschin · 4 days
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older pt 2
think i need someone older, just a little bit colder, take the weight off your shoulders
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synopsis: jungkook, the older family friend you've been in love with for yearss confesses his love for you on a beach, and you reject him.
word count: 11k
pairing: older!jungkook x afab reader
genre: age gap au (seven years), SMUT, social media au!!!, childhood acquaintance au, fluff, comedy, angsty, outta pocket, alludes to sexual innuendoes warnings: character death (not jk or y/n), cursing, nudity,
author's note: jungkook is definitely colder in this 😄 yall... i dont think ur gonna like this one 😭✋ idk if there is any redeeming their relationship after this one lmao fkfoskd
PART 1 | PART 2 |
Jungkook feels his heart sink  as he watches your silhouette disappear into the distance.  He immediately lifts his gaze to the stars, its cheerful twinkling almost mocking the way he has to physically clench his hand over his heart to assuage the aching pain in his chest. He releases a deep sigh and scrunches his facial features, desperately trying to halt the tears accumulating in his pretty eyes. 
It’s not that Jungkook can’t handle rejection. He can. His life experiences surmount yours greatly and he’s been rejected by potential employers, sports teams, his dream school. His masculinity isn’t tarnished by your rejection because he knows love isn’t something to be ashamed of. A love as pure, innocent, and unconditional as his? Expressing that would never be something he would ever regret. 
Rather, he regrets putting it off for so long, dragging you on a string instead of explicitly letting you know how deep his feelings run. He had his reasons, though. You were emotionally vulnerable and he didn’t want to take advantage of that.  The thought makes him want to roll his eyes into his skull because the situation is difficult and there’s never a correct answer. There's nothing he can do. 
Head empty, he thinks he watches the waves crash onto the shore for hours, a cigarette between his fingers and smoke filling his lungs as he attempts to calm his erratic cardiac palpitations. The cold breeze of the night engulfs him completely, and he loses himself under the moonlit sky. 
After some time, he doesn’t know how long, Jungkook walks towards the villa. His large figure is only in an oversized black tee and gray sweatshorts, and for some reason he hasn’t felt the way his temperature dropped significantly to mirror the cool breeze. He almost decides to go inside, but his body pulls back and he opts to sit on a lounge chair while he continues to draw the cigarette to his lips. 
He doesn’t hear the sliding door open, and he doesn’t sense your presence until you stand before him. He cranes his head to the left and sees you- black mini nightgown on and hair damp from the shower. You’re standing uneasily, left hand rubbing your right elbow as your eyes gaze down at him. 
“Can I try?”
Immediately, he scoffs, throwing his cigarette on the ground before he smothers it with his foot.
Expressionless, he looks back at you, fully perceiving your essence and soaking it all in. 
Sometimes he can’t believe how utterly beautiful you are. With the moonlight shining down on you, you’re biting your lip anxiously, and he just wants to smother himself in every crevice of your body. 
He opens his arms for you. 
You gracefully fall into his arms, your bottom resting on the space between his manspread legs, and both your legs resting on his left thigh. He holds your entire body weight with a single arm around your waist.
Regardless of how much you irritate him, or whether you reciprocate the intensity of his love, he’ll always open his arms for you. He’ll let you take him any way you want him. You’re still his best friend, even when you don’t see him or need him the way he sees and needs you. 
You bring a palm up to his cheek, his skin texture keratinized but still soft. “You’re freezing,” you mumble, a concerned expression engulfing your features. He says nothing. Instead he sneaks another arm around the circumference of your stomach and rests his forehead against yours. 
Your eyebrows furrow, and you hold Jungkook’s face with both your hands. You study his facial features deeply- his large boba eyes, his straight nose, his pouty lips- you love this man. 
You close your eyes and press your lips against his. Jungkook reciprocates the kiss with more fervor than you could have ever imagined. 
He immediately takes control, and your hands drop to your sides while his large hands cup your cheeks, attempting to devour you wholly. His tongue slides into your mouth, and yours into his, mouths fusing together as you infinitely intertwine your desires. Jungkook sucks your tongue into his mouth, leaving you to mewl and moan into his mouth as he quite literally leaves you breathless. You don’t realize how he subtly maneuvers you so that you’re lying underneath him until he brings both arms above your head and secures both of your wrists with his hand. His other hand creeps underneath your nightgown, gently kneading and squeezing the fat around your waist. You mewl out, panting underneath him and Jungkook takes this as an opportunity to rub his tongue against yours as he continues playing with your body. 
“Wait- Jungkook- '' you moan out, “your hands are cold.” 
Jungkook draws back, inhaling deeply as he restrains himself from you. Licking his lips, he peers down at you and feels his heart stop. 
You’re the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen. 
The moonlight dimly illuminates your features and body, and your silhouette leaves the faint shadow of your perfect body. Hair perfectly splayed against the lounge chair, you squirm against the lounge chair, chest heaving up and down, all hot and bothered. Your chest pokes against the thin fabric of your nightgown, and your nightgown slides up against the expanse of your thighs, white lace panties revealing themselves. 
Sometimes he wants to lock you up in his room forever, keeping you to himself so no other person has the privilege of laying their eyes on you. 
Licking his lips, he bends over to pick you up, bridal style, before he stumbles into your shared room in the villa. You find yourself on top of him, straddling his mid region while his hands gently massage the fat on your waist, rub up and down your thighs, kneading the flesh of your bottom. Your lips are magnetized, moving in tandem as his tongue languidly explores your mouth. 
The way Jungkook kisses is consuming, intense as he devours you completely. You feel that you are incapable of keeping up with him, his strong arms maneuvering you against his body as he overwhelms you with the way his mouth consumes yours. His tongue explores the inside of your mouth, and you have half the mind to reflect on how dirty it is- the way he has no qualms about burying himself in the impure parts of your body. 
Simultaneously, you have no qualms about bearing the impure parts of your body to him. You want him to see you in every disgusting and nasty way possible. You’ve never been with anyone as skillful and passionate as him. The way his large hands run up and down your body make you feel so safe and secure. It’s like he’s a water-deprived man wandering the desert and you’re the mirage of an island paradise, except you’re real and he can touch you, feel you. Your body feels so soft against his rough hands and he’s bathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo. 
He draws back momentarily to admire you. Your pretty features, the way you’re left breathless, and the way he can see himself in your gorgeous eyes. “Baby, you’re so beautiful,” he utters. 
Baby. That stupid nickname he always uses. That stupid nickname that pissed you off because it meant that he only saw you as a kid, as a child. You always wanted him to see you as a woman.
Now, he says it differently and it makes your chest tighten.
He drops his head and presses kisses to the sensitive spot on your neck that sends shivers throughout your whole body. 
“Your breath smells good,” you mutter, trying to distract yourself from the overstimulating sensation of Jungkook sucking hickeys on your neck. Jungkook is pretty uptight about his hygiene. You can tell about the countless skincare, oralcare, and beauty products on the vanity of your shared bathroom. 
“Even though I smoked?” he asks teasingly, pulling back to gaze at you. 
“I don’t mind. I wanna smoke with you but you’d never let me” you sheepishly respond. 
Jungkook looks right at you stoically, shaking his head. “You’re too precious. Don’t want anything to happen to your cute little princess lungs.” He gently holds your face and draws your lips towards his, like he’s trying to drown you in his love. Your eyes flutter and shirt and you attempt to mimic his passion. 
He pulls back. “But you can do anything you want. You’re a grown woman.”
You shake your head. “I would never do anything to upset you.”
He playfully scoffs at that. “My ass.”
You raise a brow at him, “I’m serious. Anything for you. Any time and anywhere.” Your fingertips trace down his body, down his chest, the hard ridges of his abs, and towards the bulge painfully straining against his pants. 
He sighs like Atlas, holding up the weight of the world to restrain himself from succumbing to the desires running through his mind.
“We don’t have to do anything- whatever you’re comfortable with. ” he mutters and you shudder at the sensation of his hot breath.
“I always dreamed of being with you,” is all you respond with. His eyes trace down your pretty features to your lips, pink, pretty, swollen, and coated in his saliva. His heart skips a beat. 
You become more relaxed when his fingers carefully brush the strands from your face, “It has to be you. Please. I’m good at this. I’ll make you feel so good.  Let me show you. Please,” you plead. 
Tattooed fingers rise to squeeze your cheeks so your lips cutely pucker out. He feels like that’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard, but the way you’re begging, pleading for him sends a chilling sensation running through his body. “Don’t worry about that baby. I’m going to do all the work. I’m gonna take care of you- all you have to do is feel good.”
And feel good you did. Seven hours later, you abruptly wake from your brief one hour nap. Jungkook’s strong arms are still tightly wrapped around your waist. His body is hot like a furnace considering how his chest burns against your back. He’s latched around you so tightly that you’re unable to remove yourself from his embrace. 
“Where you going baby?” he mumbles, morning voice deep and husky.
“I didn’t take a piss yet,” you respond, rubbing your eyes. 
“You did. I carried you to the bathroom and made you pee, so stay with me longer.”
Jungkook ignores your scandalous gasp and pulls you closer so you’re lying chest to chest. “My body is sore,” you murmur into his neck.
“I know baby,” Jungkook responds against your forehead, eyes still fluttered shut. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I’ll give you a massage later.”
“How am I gonna hide my hickeys?” you innocently question further, suddenly recalling the details of last night’s events. 
Jungkook was so mind-numbingly sweet and gentle, whispering sweet everythings into your hair while he filled you with mind-numbing pleasure. 
“You’re so gorgeous, beautiful.”
“Wanna do this with you forever and ever.”
“You have no fucking idea what you do to me.”
You sink further into the mattress and nuzzle closer to Jungkook. 
“I’ll give you my hoodie, baby,” he mumbles in response, “Don’t want the guys to know,” he turns on his back and stretches his arms while yawning, “They shouldn’t even perceive you as this way,” he shrugs, regaining his normal voice. 
“Okay,” you mumble, allowing the tranquil of quietness to wash over you both.
“Wanna shower together?” he suddenly perks up, smiling at you crazily with a combination of love and lust in his eyes.
You don’t grace him with a response, shooting up and walking to the shower, knowing fully that Jungkook was admiring your bare backside.
-
Your back rests against the chilly surface of the bathtub, a direct juxtaposition to how the sizzling water filling up the tub begins to warm your aching body. Jungkook on the other side of the tub has your foot in his hand, admiring you while sweetly kneading and pressing into the tender muscles in your foot. 
“Did I go too hard on you baby?” he asks sweetly, lips churning up as he admires you from the opposing side of the tub. 
You playfully scoff and sink further into the tub, mouth blowing bubbles into the water. You could only take so much. Your eyes run up and down his body, Jungkook smirking at the way you shamelessly check him out. His chest and abs are on display, beads of water scattered around his body. He looks like a statue, hair faintly damp from the water. 
“‘m sore, but that’s on me. You were very gentle. Thank you baby,” you say tenderly, to which Jungkook responds by pressing a soft kiss on the top of your foot, cheekily smiling at the use of your own nickname against him.
“Foot fetish,” you giggle, to which Jungkook responds by lifting your foot towards his mouth and pressing a kiss to your big toe. 
“Only for yours. They’re cute, all painted and shit,” he says with a mouth full of toe. 
“You’re such a barbarian,” you tease.
“You like it,” he responds sneakily. 
You draw your foot back and throw yourself onto him, your chests rubbing against each other before your lips mold with his. He closes his eyes and holds you close to his body, his large hand wrapping around the circumference of your thigh and pulling you so that your legs wrap around his large torso. He moans into your mouth and kisses you as messily and hungrily as he did last night. 
You pull back breathlessly. “I do. I like everything you do.”
-
“Here you go Tae,” you say before handing Taehyung a plate of eggs and bacon. All the guys are sitting on the sofas around the large TV, engrossed watching a livestream of the summer Olympics. 
“Thanks,” Taehyung mindlessly responds, taking the plate with his eyes glued to the TV.
You can imagine Jungkook’s confusion when he watches you serve each and every one of his friends their own customized breakfast platters while leaving him with nothing but the occasional uncomfortable glance. 
All his friends are entirely engrossed with athlete An-San shooting in the finals of the women’s archery competition, and though he’s extremely prideful in his country, he’s unable to focus because he’s scrutinizing the way you fidget in the loveseat. 
You’re wearing his hoodie to hide the lovemarks Jungkook scattered on your body- the same body that was pressed against his mere minutes ago. But for some reason, you can’t even meet his gaze. 
Jungkook tries not to overanalyze the situation because he realizes how overwhelming this all can be for you. Both of you are aware that there’s no going back after last night and he hopes your strange behavior is only because  it’s taking a little bit to process everything. 
A sudden gasp from your lips pulls everyone’s attention away from the screen.
“I have an assignment due in an hour! Mingyu oppa, can you help me? It’s a coding assignment,” you express with urgency shooting up from your seat. 
Mingyu’s eyes dart towards Jungkook, the literal Computer Science expert of the group, but Mingyu wouldn’t turn you down so he stands up and wipes his palms on his jeans. Jungkook opens his mouth to say something but it never comes out. 
“Yea sure,” Mingyu agrees, timidly following you into your room, looking back at Jungkook once.  
-
After returning from the villa, he was almost sure that you would start dating after a questionable awkward phase. When he recalls the night spent with you, he feels chills all over his body. There was no way you didn’t feel the same. There was no way you wouldn’t come back to him. 
He would wait for you to graduate before he proposed. Your wedding would be intimate, celebrated exclusively with your loved ones but still luxurious. He had the money for it, after all. Jungkook’s income greatly exceeds the needs of a single man in his twenties and he had more than enough money and was eager to splurge on you. Pretty dresses, designer purses, Dior lip gloss, pilates classes, he would assuredly take care of you for the rest of your life.  
If you wanted to pursue higher education and get your master’s degree, he would finance it completely. If you wanted to move to a different city, he would take you there and find a nice place for you both- anywhere you wanted, he could make it happen. If you wanted to have kids, he would ensure that you had the most healthy and comfortable pregnancy. He would take care of everything. You didn’t even need to lift a finger. 
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How can you pretend you don’t want him when you begged for him, when you said you would do anything to please him? When you claimed to love him for years? 
You avoid him like he is the bubonic plague. On the way back from the villa, you rode with Taehyung instead of Jungkook. And when you reached home, you went straight to Yunjin’s place and haven’t returned for a week straight. 
Jungkook’s texts remained unanswered, and he’s upset beyond belief. He doesn’t want to paint you in a negative light so he keeps everything to himself. The only thing he can do is go to the gym and immerse himself in physical pain to distract himself from the mental pain. 
-
“I’m moving out,” you bluntly announce, catching Jungkook completely off guard. After a week, you finally return to Jungkook’s apartment, not even gracing him with a greeting before bursting through his doors and dropping this bomb on him. 
Jungkook scoffs, throwing his gaming controller to the side, shutting off the TV before turning to you. He sways his head to the side to swoop his bangs out of his face and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.  “Is that all you have to say to me? Sit down,” he chastises, pointing to the recliner. 
You cross your arms and frown at him,  but nonetheless acquiesce, sitting on the recliner next to Jungkook’s sofa. 
Jungkook, who always reciprocates your fervor and passion, glares at you with more disappointment than you could ever shoot at him, ignoring the cute pout on your lips and your clumsy attempt at appearing intimidating. 
“Are you going to ignore me forever? Have I ever made you feel like you can’t talk to me about things? Don’t I always listen to you? Care for you?” His emotions spill out, perhaps more harsh than he intended. He almost feels like he has to clutch his heart to assuage the raging pain in his chest because Jungkook just loves you so much. He always put you above others, even when things were strictly platonic. 
“Yes you do, and that’s the point!” you retort, shooting up and gesturing dramatically with your hands, “It’s suffocating to always have you here! I feel so useless and stupid when I’m around you.” 
Jungkook tongues his cheek against the inside of his mouth, impatiently tapping his foot while he squints his eyes and processes everything you’re saying. “So you feel like I suffocate you?”
“I didn’t say that. I said that it’s suffocating, not that you’re suffocating me,” you huff. 
Jungkook laughs to himself, completely invalidating your emotions. His eyes settle on you, and his eyes turn cold. It’s like Jungkook’s presence has full reign over the room’s disposition, because the room turns cold too. 
“Y/N.” 
Your eyes uncomfortably flick towards every corner of the room. “Umm.. yea?”
“What’s the name of your health insurance provider?”
A wave of silence washes over the room and you immediately crimson. You have no fucking clue. Yea, you see what he’s getting at, and you wish you could physically wipe the smug look on his face. Jungkook can scarcely perceive the tears pricking your lash line.
“You’re such a dick,” you mumble, letting yourself sink into the leather of the seat.
He ignores you and bitterly nods his head. “Okay fine. Move out. Where are you gonna get the money to pay rent, Ms. Unemployed?” The sarcasm laced in his voice hits you like an arrow.
You huff once again, inflating with anger before you explode, “If you didn’t know, fucking asshole, my parents died in a car accident and left me a lot of fucking money!” you scream.
He blinks back at you, completely unimpressed, making you feel stupid for blowing up at him.  
You practically weaponized your parents’ death to gain sympathy from him and he’s clearly as apathetic as ever, “So where’s the money at? I’ve been here this whole time and  I haven’t seen any money,” he points out,  “If I knew you were loaded I would have charged you for rent since you wanna be little Ms. Independent,” he mocks.
Your jaw drops again at the rashness of his words. You bring your knees to your chest and twiddle with a strand of hair.  “You’re being mean,” you mumble into your knees.
“And you’re being selfish,” he bluntly responds. 
“Whatever. Fuck you. I just came to get my shit,” you shoot up and march into your room, beginning to throw your clothes into your abnormally large suitcase.
“Yea?” you hear Jungkook’s voice echo from the living room, “And who’s gonna help you carry your shit down the stairs?”
“Fuck you!” you yell back, face turning red with anger. 
Jungkook leans against the doorframe of your win, watching you haphazardly throw everything into your suitcase, reveling in the way tears are flowing down your cheeks and how your chest heaves up and down. 
“Is Yunjin going to be your roommate?” 
“Yes,” you angrily mutter, sniffling and wiping your nose. No matter how angry you are, you have the compulsion to answer any and every question he asks. 
“Just her?” he continues his interrogation and you continue to respond.
“No. Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Soobin, Sunghoon, Heeseung.”
“Who the fuck is that?” his words come out more harsh than intended.
“Sunghoon is just a boy in one of my classes and Heeseung is his best friend. Heeseung is also one of Beomgyu’s childhood best friends so it’s fine,” you say, as if Jungkook is your guardian and you’re trying to rationalize your impulsive actions. 
“Is he the boy you were facetiming at the villa?”Jungkook questions, not missing the way you pause momentarily. 
“Yes. He’s just a friend,” you express, opening the dresser drawer to pull out your intimates. Mostly granny panties but Jungkook raises a brow at the black and red lingerie you try to crumple in your hands. 
“That for me?”
You raise your head to look at him, red face with anger before you chuck the lingerie at his face. Jungkook remains stoic and unphased when the lace fabric hits his chest and lands on the floor. 
You end up leaving his place in tears, pushing him to the side while you clumsily drag your heavy suitcase from his place. Jungkook almost steps forward to carry your bag for you, but he denies his impulse and simply watches you leave. When your car disappears in the distance, he goes straight to your room and lies down on the mattress, falling asleep while your scent is still fresh. 
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-
“What happened with you and Y/N?” The casualty of Mingyu’s words punctures Jungkook’s heart like an arrow. He immediately deflates at the mention of your name, glancing downwards and stirring his beer with his straw. 
Taehyung and Mingyu shoot each other knowing glances from each side of the restaurant booth. 
Taehyung steadily redirects his attention towards his best friend. “She moved out, right?” An uncomfortable pause washes over, “Did you guys fight?” 
Jungkook shakes his head, using his chopsticks to turn the meat sizzling on the tabletop grill. “She just… wants to be more independent,” he says, purposely condensing the situation in seven words, with care, so as to not antagonize you in front of his friends. 
Tutting his tongue, Mingyu shakes his head empathetically, “I’m genuinely sorry to hear that…” he momentarily trails off, “Are you okay?”
Before Jungkook can respond, Taehyung shoves a piece of meat in Jungkook’s mouth with his chopsticks. “Hey. Remember who you are. Don’t let a girl fuck with your self respect.”
Jungkook, resembling a bunny with a mouth full of carrots, swallows and looks directly into his friend’s eyes. “You know she’s not just a girl to me.”
“I know,” Taehyung quickly responds, meeting his friend’s gaze with corresponding gravity, “I love Y/N too. But that doesn’t mean you let her actions dictate the quality of your life.”
Jungkook squints his eyes at Taehyung and sets his chopsticks on the table, sighing deeply,  “You know I actually said some pretty childish shit to her.”
“Like what? It couldn’t have been that bad,” Mingyu reasons. 
“I’d rather not repeat it,” Jungkook mumbles, rubbing the nape of his neck, “She said she wanted to move out, that she felt suffocated by me. Shit pissed me off so I was harsh on her and she hasn’t spoken to me in like a month.”
It took Jungkook a good 24 hours to realize that you weren’t on the same page as him. It was horribly presumptuous to assume so in the first place. Perhaps Jungkook mistook your devotion towards him as love, and not what it actually was: hedonistic infatuation. You yourself most likely mistook your obsession for  love, because he knows you’re too kind hearted to purposely mislead him. After that night, you were probably filled with a whirlwind of confusion- maybe because actually being with Jungkook didn’t feel as good as fantasizing about it did.
In other words, you were obsessed with the chase and not with him. 
Well, that probably meant you both are fucked because you already slept together and now there was no going back. 
“I mean…” Mingyu begins, “Y/N’s like what? 20? She probably doesn’t want to be tied down to anything.”
Jungkook bitterly shakes his head and shuts his eyes, “I should have figured.”
“Sleeping around, doing drugs, partying, getting drunk,” Mingyu lists, counting off with his fingers, “She probably shouldn’t be doing those things, but isn’t that what we did when we were in college?”
“That’s true,” Taehyung concurs, side-eyeing Jungkook’s reaction, “We did do all that when we were 20.”
Jungkook visibly winces. 
“And I know you love her,” Mingyu continues, “but right now she clearly isn’t in the headspace to healthily engage romantically with you, so live your own life and let her live hers.”
Jungkook sighs and slaps both hands over his face, hoping that the skin of his palms absorbs the tears prickling his waterline. “I just love her, you know? And the thought of her going through a hoe phase or getting with another guy just hurts,” he explains, allowing his hands to fall back on the table, “I think I’d kill him. I really would.”
“When I’m with her, when we’re together- I don’t know how to explain it- I would do anything for her. Haven’t I done anything for her? I would give her everything if she’d let me,” he unloads, “She just makes me so happy- never even thought I could feel this way- and being without her just sucks so bad.”
“You have done everything for her Koo,” Taehyung comforts, “but you do it because you love her, right? Not because you want anything in return.”
“I want her to at least talk to me, or acknowledge me…” Jungkook mutters, grimacing when a random thought appears in his mind, “Should I just enlist?”
It’s meant light heartedly- he’s half-joking, partially serious. He can’t fathom not having you after getting a taste. He’d rather put himself through the physical anguish of boot camp and military training. It was mandatory for all Korean men anyways. 
“You’re going to leave your life behind for a year and a half because Y/N is ignoring you?” Mingyu articulates, making Jungkook realize how ridiculous the assertion is. 
“Hey hey, that’s not a bad idea,” Taehyung opposes, “Go serve our country and get your mind off a few things. You have to enlist anyway.”
“Look. Go if you want. But don’t just go because of Y/N. C’mon. You’re better than that,” Mingyu rationalizes.
“I don’t know. It’s just an idea,” Jungkook murmurs, banging his head onto the table. 
Silence washes over as the three simply enjoy their meal, not allowing dialogue to intrude on the delicious, savory, and expensive meat entering their mouths. 
Taehyung pulls out his phone, and a few moments later his eyes widen, “Oh shit,” Taehyung utters
“What?” Jungkook and Mingyu question simultaneously.
Taehyung turns his phone around and shows them a random instagram story. 
The image posted on Yunjun's story shows a man and a woman in bed, with the caption "Ewwwwwwww"
Sure enough, it was your glasses on the bedside table, your blanket draped over the sheets, and your clothes scattered across the floor. His eyebrows furrow thoroughly as he scrutinizes the screen.
Jungkook begins the enlistment process that night.
-
You’ve settled into your new home and have been living there comfortably for a few weeks. One perk to having six roommates is that you’re never bored. Yunjin will drop by every other night to indulge in overly meticulous, and probably more harmful, skincare routines. The boys occasionally call you to the living room to play board games or video games, which usually end in drunk laughter and the production of a chaotic, happy memory. 
One of those nights is right now. Truth or drink is a stupid game- super childish, only really played in Wattpad fanfictions and movie adaptations of those same fanfics- but Heeseung suggested it and who really gives a fuck? Right now is the era of recklessness, chaos, and living with full abandonments of regret.
The seven of you sit in a circle with a bottle of vodka and seven shot glasses in the middle. Yunjin is right next to you, as usual, giggling with no thoughts on her mind since she has refused to answer any of the questions. The girl seriously lives a life of secrecy. 
Amidst the giggles and laughter of your friends, you begin to smile too. Beomgyu admits that he caught feelings for a one night stand. Yeonjun admits that he catfished a frat boy as a Discord kitten. Heeseung admits that he already snuck someone into the house.  But really, it’s not as fun when you’re being interrogated. 
“Y/N,” Heeseung blatantly calls you out. You smile haughtily at him, your brows raising like you’re daring him to ask a question.
“Hmmm, okay, I’ll go easy on you,” he teases, “When was the last time you kissed someone?” he asks, and your smile drops.
You gasp and it’s like you’re sucked into a whirlpool of memories. Memories of Jungkook holding you like he would never see you again, whispering the sweetest, mind-chilling things in your ear while you bore the most intimate and vulnerable parts of yourself to him. 
You haven’t disclosed that part of your life to anyone, because it was so intimate and you hold it so dearly to your heart. 
Yunjin nudges you, “Hey, you okay?” 
You shake your head. This is supposed to be fun. Everybody here is revealing their dark secrets and a kiss isn’t even a big deal. You have to play your part too.
You shake your head. “I’m fine,” you smile, “It was probably like, a month ago? I wanna say?” you ponder aloud, making everyone erupt into ooh’s and ahh’s. 
Yunjin gasps scandalously. “You kissed someone and didn’t tell me? You whore!”
You giggle and nudge her back. “You literally have not answered a single question asked!”
And supposedly, you two are so immersed in banter between each other, you don’t notice the other tension zapping around the room. Uncomfortable glances flicker around the room, and Sunghoon grimaces, willingly taking a shot of vodka. 
“Was it Jungkook? Did you finally pull him?” Yeonjun blurts out, rising to his feet.
You playfully stand up and push him. “Hey! It’s not your turn to ask a fucking question!” you slur, “It’s my turn!”
“If Y/N  kissed him, we would’ve definitely heard about it,” Beomgyu mumbles. A lightbulb shows up above his head. “Wait- was it Mingyu?” he questions further. 
“Mingyu is so hot,” Soobin productively inserts into the conversation. 
“It’s not your guys’ turn!” you whine, before clearing your throat and composing yourself, “Sunghoon!” you call out, pointing at him for the dramatic effect, “Is there a girl you’ve got on your mind right now?” the question spills out and Yunjin is the only one who claps in anticipation.
Sunghoon shifts uncomfortably in his seat, pouring a shot into the glass and downing it nearly immediately.
You scandalously gasp, a light bulb appearing above your head as you put the puzzle pieces together. “No way- do you- are you- are you into Yunjin?” you beseech and Yunjin mirrors your scandalous gasp.
“No way!” she drunkenly slurs, “Sorry Sunghoon- I just- I just don’t see you like that, but you are a really handsome, and there’s no doubt that you’ll find a girl soon,” she slurs, soliciting a laugh from some of the other guys and a playful scoff from Sunghoon, who just throws a pillow at her. 
A few rounds later, you find yourself becoming more intoxicated with the amounts of shots you’ve taken, mostly because you refuse to answer any juicy questions about your sex life. You learned some pretty nasty details about your friends that had you squealing and hiding behind the throw pillows. 
Eventually, Soobin throws another question at you. “Y/N!” He points at you, a shot glass in his hand, “Do you think you’ll ever get over Jungkook?”
Yeonjun spits out his drink, prompting Yunjin to pull out her phone to show Heeseung and Sunghoon Jungkook’s instagram. Photos of him and his friends litter the screen, some of him shirtless at the gym, some with his friends, and some with you. One at your high school graduation with your diploma in hand and your cap on Jungkook’s head. Another photo at the beach, with you in the middle and his friends evenly dispersed on both of your sides. 
“Good question Soobin!” Beomgyu exclaims, clapping his hands in agreement. Sunghoon lifts his eyes uncomfortably from the screen to gauge your expression. 
What he didn’t expect was you to hold up the vodka bottle and chug. 
All you want to do is chug your feelings away. Chug your thoughts away. 
You want your head to be empty so you can’t possibly think about Jungkook and how you hurt him, so you don’t think about the dozens of texts he’s sent and how they’ve all been left on Read. You can’t even fathom the possibility of losing him, and you think you’re treading along that path. 
You’re horrible. 
“Holy shit Y/N, stop!” Beomgyu screeches, practically tackling you and swiping the bottle from your hands. 
“She’s finally lost her shit!” Yeonjun exclaims, like he’s been expecting this to happen for years (?)
Heeseung and Sunghoon exchange glances, and it fills Sunghoon with the faintest sense of apprehension. 
Obviously, Sunghoon is into you. You’re too stupid, dense, and probably selfish to realize but Sunghoon is really into you, and everybody knows it except for you and your equally dumb friend Yunjin. 
After moving in, it didn’t take a while for the guys in the house to catch on. Sunghoon remembers the… odd confrontation quite vividly. 
Beomgyu, Soobin, and Yeonjun cornered Sunghoon against the kitchen wall when he returned home from university, bombarding him with invasive questions. 
“Did you only agree to move in because you wanna fuck Y/N?” Beomgyu, in his typical unhinged manner, spat at Sunghoon. 
Sunghoon's brows furrowed in bewilderment as the words bounced around his mind. "Wait, what?" he echoed, his features contorted in pure confusion.
Yeonjun couldn't help but facepalm at Beomgyu's straightforwardness before nudging him with his whole frame. "Okay, listen," Yeonjun interjected, "what Beomgyu is trying to ask is, do you have feelings for Y/N?"
Without hesitation, Sunghoon affirmed, "Yes, I do. I really like her."
Caught off guard by Sunghoon's quick response, Yeonjun and Soobin exchanged suspicious glances, prompting Sunghoon to offer further clarification. "But it's not what you guys think," he hurriedly explained. "It's a genuine, innocent “like”... I just want to treat her right. I'm not looking to pursue anything physical."
Soobin, Yeonjun, and Beomgyu visibly relaxed, exchanging nods of understanding among themselves..
"Got it, man," Soobin reassured Sunghoon with a pat on the back. "We're rooting for you. Let us know if anything develops."
Sunghoon snaps back to the present amidst the chaotic screams, witnessing you and Beomgyu wrestle over the bottle of vodka. You slur your words, “Fucking asshole! Give it back!”
Sensing a pertinent gaze upon him, he locks eyes with Yeonjun, who subtly motions towards you.
Immediately, Sunghoon gets the message. 
Yeonjun clears his throat, “Beomgyu, just take it easy. Let’s all calm down for a moment.” His voice is compelling, and you loosen your grip on the bottle just for Beomgyu to snatch it from your hand and spill it to the floor. 
You scream. 
“How could you do that?!” you slur, “Beomgyu! M-my alcohol! I’m nothing without my alchohol-”
Soobin lets out an exasperated sigh and rises to intervene, gently guiding Beomgyu away from the chaotic scene before motioning for Sunghoon to attend to your intoxicated state. Meanwhile, Heeseung leads Yunjin to her room. 
That evening, Sunghoon assumes the role of caretaker, tending to you with unwavering patience and kindness eerily similar to Jungkook’s. Too bad that you weren’t in the proper state of mind to even realize what’s happening. 
 He carefully carries you to your room, ensuring you're comfortable before tenderly tucking you into bed. 
If anybody else saw him, they’d think he’s pathetic. Taking care of a girl who’s drunk over another man is nearly unfathomable- but he’s doing it because he wants it all. He wants the good and the bad, the highs and the lows, if it means that he’s doing it with you. 
-
One downside to having six roommates (especially ones that like to party) is that it’s really fucking loud all the time.
It’s not that you don’t like to party. You were always the first to buy tickets to a rave or a music festival. 
But these days, it feels like you’ve aged one hundred years because you’d rather spend Friday nights cuddled up with your plushies instead of around people. You like to joke that Sunghoon is your twin because he often locks himself in his room when your roommate’s throw parties. 
You think you’ll visit him this time, so you wrap a blanket around your frame and knock on his door. “It’s me!” you yell through the wood, and you hear the swivel of a gaming chair, footsteps, and the door unlocking before it swings open. “Hey,” he smiles at you, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the beauty marks littering his face. 
“Hey,” you take a step in, and Sunghoon closes the door behind you and locks it.  “Wanna hang?” you ask sweetly. 
He laughs, plopping back on his gaming chair. “Not joining the party?” 
You plop on his bed, using your blanket to cover your body so you don’t ruin the perfect sheeting on his bed. Sunghoon’s room can be described in one word: clean. His bed is always pristinely made, PC desk and school desk always acutely organized, and clothes folded neatly in his closet.  His gaming setup is quite intricate, two PC’s he built himself with wires and hardware looping intricately through his desk and the computers. He has a flat screen TV hung on the wall in front of his bed and a mini fridge in the corner filled with Diet cokes and ice cream sandwiches. 
Completely different from Heeseung’s room. 
“I’m exhausted from last night. Aren’t you? I don’t remember anything” you explain, grabbing the remote on his nightstand so you can turn the TV on. 
Sunghoon laughs at that, typing away on his light up keyboard while his mouse swivels around the mousepad, playing some FPS game. “You’re a lightweight, Y/N. I remember everything.”
You wave your hand nonchalantly. “Not at all. Not at all. I can handle my liquor better than all of you combined.”
“Uh-huh.” He stands up and walks over to his mini fridge, taking out a Diet coke for himself. “Want an ice cream sandwich?-”
You gasp and immediately nod your head vigorously, slightly resembling a puppy panting for water. Sunghoon thinks you’re adorable. You don’t know that he’s never cared for ice cream sandwiches.  He buys them solely for you and saves them for whenever you unexpectedly drop by. 
He throws one at you and smiles when you enthusiastically breathe it in. He plops down by you on the gaming chair, putting his feet up on the bed. You put on Ninjago and you both share on the screen, occasionally sharing stupid memes between episode breaks.
After finishing up Season 5, the music seems louder than ever, and you groan into his pillows. “Oops sorry, I got some makeup on your pillow-”
“Y/N, I need to tell you something,” Sunghoon suddenly articulates, and you cock your head in curiosity. 
“Don’t get mad at me about the pillow, though,”
“It’s fine,” Sunghoon laughs, “but I just- I just feel like I gotta tell you this.”
“Okay,” you implore, tugging on the loose strings of his sheets, “Go on.”
“Y/N, I like you.”
Oh. 
“And last night, when we were doing Truth or Drink, I felt like the guys made that evidently clear, but you’re into you didn’t realize, did you? You were too wasted.”
Sunghoon's confession hangs in the air, his words heavy with vulnerability. Your heart skips a beat as you process the unexpected declaration.
You nod in concurrence, “I had no idea.”
But before the moment can fully settle, Sunghoon's expression shifts, his features clouded with uncertainty. "Are you into that old guy… Jungkook?" he asks hesitantly, his voice laced with a tinge of sadness.
Your heart sinks as you realize the direction of the conversation. Memories of Jungkook flood your mind, the warmth of his smile and the depth of your connection weighing heavily on your conscience.
"Yeah," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I am."
Sunghoon's smile fades, replaced by a somber acceptance. "I figured as much," he murmurs, a hint of resignation in his tone.
Silence envelops the room, the weight of unspoken emotions lingering between you. Despite this, there is a mutual understanding: Sunghoon never had a chance. 
After a moment of heavy silence, you clear your throat, your gaze shifting to the floor, “I should go.”
Sunghoon nods, unable to find the right words to ease the tension. "Yeah, okay," he replies softly.
As you make your way to the door, Sunghoon pauses, hesitating for a moment before speaking up. "I hope things work out for you and Jungkook," he says, a small, wistful smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"Thank you, Sunghoon," you murmur, a lump forming in your throat.
And that’s the end of that. Clearly, there is no chemistry between you and Sunghoon and it just never was going to ever work out. 😀
-
Despite how you convince yourself that you don’t want him- your heart will never be able to  deny him. Your very soul yearns for him and to deprive yourself of him is to deprive yourself of your greatest longing. 
Jungkook feels the same way, and you’re not ready for him.
You want to disappear. 
A glance into everything makes you look like the crazy bitch, and you’re very self aware of that.  You had the man you’ve been in love with your whole life wrapped around your fingers, and you let go of that.
Granted, you are a crazy bitch, but you certainly have your reasons for behaving the way you do. 
The very sudden death of both your parents lead you to the crippling realization that everything is temporary. You find yourself dreaming of being enfolded in Jungkook’s warmth, his strong arms your protection against the scary, cold world. Then, like he was never there in the first place, he disappears, leaving you to be sucked into the violent, dark void. 
You know how difficult, unhinged, crazy you can be at times, and while Jungkook knows you like no other, you don’t think he’s completely perceived the disarray engulfing your life. You doubt that he’d stick around for the long run once he discovers who you truly are. He’s taken care of you up to now, and you have no intention of relying- no- burdening him for the rest of your life. 
You want to stop being so damn soft, so incapable of controlling your emotions all the time. You want to be someone who can handle herself. 
Then again, Jungkook is the greatest temptation in your life. The way he protects you, the way he becomes so gentle with you- you crave him desperately. 
But the only way to truly have him, to be truly deserving of him is, in other words: to grow the fuck up and be a woman deserving of him. How will you do that? You don’t know. 
After your parents passed away, you’ve been a mess. Your GPA went to shit, and it took months for you to find the will to brush your teeth and shower everyday. That’s disgusting. If anything, you were more of Jungkook’s charity case than Jungkook’s girlfriend. 
You’re really trying- but if you aren’t even capable of taking care of yourself, how will you be capable of taking care of someone as perfect and capable as him? It makes you want to curl into a fetal position and die. 
However, given the intimate bond of your family connections, you understand that Jungkook will forever remain a significant presence in your life. Despite your efforts to ignore him, to pretend like he doesn’t exist- he’ll always be there like a pillar unless he gets struck by lightning and dies which MAY be possible considering that your parents also died unexpectedly (😀). 
The next time you see Jungkook is at his parents’ anniversary party. His parents consider you their first daughter, which may or may not be strange considering that means that Jungkook could technically be your brother- but nonetheless the notion is intrinsically sweet and it makes you feel like you’ll always have a second family. 
No matter where you stand with Jungkook, you’ll always show up for his parents (and for him), which is why you’re all dolled up for the party. 
Usually, you’d bring Yunjin as your plus one, but she’s got another family engagement so you bring your next best man Yeonjun. 
You've yet to divulge the personal intricacies of what transpired between you and Jungkook to your friends, but you reckon that Yeonjun will catch on simply by observing your dynamic at the party. 
Jungkook’s parents like to keep it simple; they opt for hosting a barbeque party at their house, and of course, their handsome son is responsible for grilling the meat. 
You sport a casual look: sneakers and a black sundress while Yeonjun wears a black button up and jorts. In a sense, you kind of resemble a couple, but you don’t even realize that you’re matching until Jungkook’s aunt makes an incriminating comment. 
“My my!” Jungkook’s aunt exclaims, pulling you in for a hug. She always reminds you of Winnie the Pooh; she’s so soft and cuddly. “Y/N! You look so gorgeous!” She does a double take after catching a glimpse of Yeonjun, “and is this your boyfriend? He’s so handsome!”
You’d expect Yeonjun to gag, but he keeps it professional, “Oh not at all auntie,” Yeonjun clarifies, waving his hands, “We’re just friends.”
Jungkook’s aunt shoots Yeonjun a playfully suspicious look, “Ayee~ No need to keep it PG. Y/N’s all grown up! She should be with a handsome boy like you!”
Yeonjun continues to try to explain that things are strictly platonic, but Jungkook’s aunt doesn’t relent so he just goes along with it. 
In a strange, fourth dimension-type way, you do understand why Yeonjun is popular amongst the ladies. Yes, you’ll reluctantly admit that he isn’t the most hideous, and that he does have the height, charisma, and chivalry any girl would love- so you aren’t appalled by the idea- until Jungkook’s aunt says “You two would make such cute babies!”
“Hey Jungkook! You’re burning the meat!”
Jungkook’s father yelling his son grabs your attention, and you whip your head towards the grill. 
As always, you were vaguely aware of Jungkook’s presence in the room, but you can’t help but stare when you actually see him. Again, it’s a barbecue pool party so Jungkook’s wearing an open Hawaiian shirt and swim shorts, meaning that his abs were on display. 
You haven’t seen him in months, and you dare to think that he’s gotten bigger? Yes he looks hot and sexy and amazing, like he always does, but what bothers you is that he seems that he’s doing just fine, and maybe even better without you. 
Jungkook hurriedly flips the meat over with the tongs and hastily throws them onto a nearby plastic plate. “My bad, dad,” he apologizes, rubbing the nape of his neck, before turning his head to look directly at you. 
You stare at each other for a second before you look down, biting your lip in apprehension. Yeonjun, however, is clueless to this. 
“Aye! Jungkook hyung!” he exclaims, running over to Jungkook to dap him up. 
Jungkook gives Yeonjun a brotherly smile. “Hey man. How’s school?”
“Ah, it’s going,” Yeonjun responds with a giggle. Sometimes you think that Yeonjun has a bigger crush on Jungkook than you because this man is literally giggling like a middle schooler. You fight the urge to roll your eyes. 
“Wow hyung! Your abs look amazing! Like a statue!” Yeonjun immediately pistol whips his head towards you, “Y/N! Did you see? Jungkook is here? Come say hi!” he beckons you like your mother would: “Sweetie, say hi to Jungkook! Don’t be rude!”, and it makes you purse your lips. 
Jungkook looks at you, and the only word to describe how he looks is piercing. He looks right at you, right into your soul. No matter where you stand, this man will look right at you and make it mortifyingly clear that he is perceiving you and that you better start perceiving him. 
What can you do when he looks at you like that?
Reluctantly, you saunter over, your arms crossed. 
“Hey,” you murmur, immediately turning your head to look at the pool. 
“What the- what the fuck is wrong with you?” Yeonjun chastises, nudging you with his elbow, “It’s Jungkook! Your favorite person.. Well he’s my favorite person too…” Yeonjun blushes. 
Ignoring Yeonjun, Jungkook leans against the grill. “Want some meat, baby? You look… emaciated.”
My oh my, the things you would do to strangle this man. Firstly, it’s the nickname again. The last time he called you baby, he certainly didn’t mean it how he means it now. He’s doing that thing where he treats you like a little kid again and you hate it. Secondly, it’s the comment about you looking emaciated. You know damn well that you’ve actually gained an extra ten pounds since you’ve seen him- and Jungkook knows your body so you wonder if he’s taking a low blow. 
“Yea, just give me like two ribs,” you mumble, pupils fluttering up at him before returning to the ground. 
Jungkook scoffs in amusement. You can’t even look at him. He places the ribs on the plastic plate, purposely choosing the ones without fat because he knows you find it disgusting. 
‘So,” Jungkook starts, motioning between you and Yeonjun, “Was this on purpose? The matching?”
“Oh not at all,” Yeonjun immediately answers, “In fact, did you know that, on average, 30% of the population wears something black each day? That’s a pretty huge percentage considering that..”
Jungkook nods along, pretending like he’s listening to whatever Yeonjun is saying but his eyes are on you, like they always are. He tongues the inside of his cheek looking at you because you won’t even look at him, you just continuously shift your gaze between the ground and the pool. 
Ridiculous. 
Another thing to note about the Jeon family is that Jungkook isn’t the only Jeon who is madly in love with you. His nephew is too. Well, little four-year old Jacob is as “madly in love” with you as a four-year old can be. 
When little Jacob catches heed of you, he immediately waddles into your arms, and you pick him up and throw him up before catching him. Little Jacob is one of the cutest babies you’ve ever seen- he’s like a little Jungkook, looks just like Jungkook’s baby pictures. 
“Y/N!” he squeals, nuzzling his face into your neck and squeezing you. 
“Hi baby!” you coo, pressing a kiss to his chubby little cheek. 
“I mithed you!” Jacob pouts, before the poor kid literally bursts into tears. “I mithed you so much, and you didn’t even vithit me!”
With a swift motion, Jungkook gently takes his cousin from your embrace, using just one hand to lift him up. "Hey," Jungkook's voice carries a hint of seriousness, "Remember what I told you? Do big kids cry over something that doesn't need to be cried over?"
Jacob pouts, wiping a tear. “N-no, but Y/N didn’t vithit me!”
“Y/N didn’t visit me either, but I’m not crying about it, right? Us Jeon boys don’t cry over those things, alright? Now come swim with your uncle, we can play mermaids.” With that, he whisks his nephew away and throws him into the pool. 
Yeonjun sends you a look of suspicion. 
The car ride back to your place is painful. Yeonjun interrogates you over what really happened between you and Jungkook and you have no choice but to divulge every detail. 
At the end, you burst into tears, and Yeonjun has to buy you an Oreo McFlurry from McDonalds to calm you down. 
-
Three months. 
You haven’t spoken to him or acknowledged his existence for three months. 
Jungkook knows he was harsh on you the last time you spoke, but he didn’t feel like his behavior warranted such indifference from you. At the party, he knows he was being snarky, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t in pain. 
He almost falls over when he sees your friends at the grocery store. Yeonjun and Soobin greet him politely, and Jungkook keeps things simple, just engaging in  the typical “Hey, how’s school” chat. 
These days, Jungkook doesn’t frequent many social outings. For the whole week he’s worked from home and he’s only left to go to the gym and to get food. 
Jungkook hates walking past that stupid, balled up, pile of lingerie mocking him from his hallway floor. He hasn’t found it in him to just pick it up and throw it away, or at least kick it away from his line of sight. 
It’s just there. Laughing in his fucking face because Jungkook wonders what he would think of that lingerie had you two not fallen out. 
Perhaps you would surprise him after a long day of work- a day he only makes it through because he knows he’s coming back to you. Jungkook thinks the red set is cute, but black is undeniably his favorite color- sophisticated, timeless, and alluring- he knows he would prefer the black set. 
He would like the red set on Valentine’s day, the color against your skin as ablaze as his love for you. He would cherish you, hold you tight to him while he gently ravishes you and shows you how good you make him feel, pleasuring you until you begin to push him away. That was the most corny thing he’s ever conceived in his life and that makes him feel even worse. 
A notification lights up the dim room, and Jungkook’s tattooed hand immediately reaches for his phone on the bedside table. 
It was his crazy ex that gifted you a Snorlax keychain and threatened to key his car. 
Jungkook laughs to himself because he realizes this is the universe’s karma for continuously ditching women who were “too into it”. 
He was clearly the one who was too into it now because his stupid ass was already thinking about marriage and children while you were still in college. He runs his hands over his face and smiles at the bitter irony of the situation. 
-
Weeks pass and Jungkook learns to accept his circumstances. It wasn’t really about moving on, because he accepted that he wouldn’t- not easily, at least. It was about moving forward. 
He finds joy in the mundane, waking up early to go to the gym, sitting at his office desk and admiring the city view, occasionally meeting up with his friends and getting drunk. Jungkook reckons he can sustain this lifestyle for the rest of his life but knows that he’ll fold if you ever decide to run back to him, which is why he’s enlisting in a few weeks, to seek normalcy, peace, and stability. 
He bids his final goodbyes to his family, friends, and coworkers. The last thing he needs to say goodbye to is his hair. 
He inhales deeply, standing on the expanse of his balcony, gazing at the illuminating cityscape and twinkling lights.  He holds a barber’s mirror in his left hand and a razor in his right. The chilly breeze blows against his bare upper body and he feels the urge to sloppily do the job to return to the comfort of his cozy bed. He raises the razor towards his head, taking another deep breath while he brings it towards his hairline until- 
The sliding door glides open with a whoosh. He hears your voice breathless and pressing, “You’re going to the army?” 
He briefly considers jumping from the balcony.
“Are you leaving tomorrow?” you repeat. 
He presses his lips together tightly, then pivots to meet your gaze, his expression a mix of utter astonishment. It's been four months since you last spoke to him, and now you're running back? The night before he enlists?
Your eyebrows furrow deeply, you continue yapping,  “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jungkook allows his eyes to rest on you. He realizes you’ve cut your hair shoulder length and momentarily, he thinks that you look beautiful with your hair at any length- but that’s not the point. He’s angry- beyond livid, beyond heartbroken, and you think that you can suddenly waltz back into his life after months of ignoring him?
 He tongues his cheek against the inside of his mouth. “You need to leave.”
“I am not leaving,” you enunciate, “We need to talk before you go.” 
You casually stride into his place like it's your own, stubbornly marching into the balcony and plopping yourself down on Jungkook's chair, and Jungkook can’t fathom the audacity.  
He scoffs, “Seriously? I’m not enlisting to get your attention,” he bites his tongue, “You seriously don’t have to be here.”
“I know you’re not,” you reason, tucking your hair behind your ear, looking him right in the eye, “But we have to talk. Haven’t you been the one who’s been wanting to talk this whole time?”
Jungkook 
Jungkook pauses, leaning against the railing while he squints his eyes.“Not everything is about you, Y/N.”
Your lips automatically form into a straight line, expressing your embarrassment at his blunt statement. “I know,” you respond, “I just thought, you know, since your text messages and stuff..”
Jungkook blankly stares at you, shaking his head, disbelief written across his features. “You had months to talk,” he recalls, voice laced with bitterness, “You chose to ignore me.”
You hesitate, “Well I’m not ignoring you anymore, so can’t we talk?”
Jungkook’s gaze hardens, and he shakes his head, not believing the words coming from your mouth, “You’re so fucking selfish-”
“Hey! Do not say that about me!” you shout, your jaw trembling. 
“Yea? So what are you?” Jungkook barks back, “Selfless?” he laughs at that, “Are you happy knowing that I’m going away for two years? Wanna finally get this over with?”
“No Jungkook. I’m not fucking happy to hear that.” you spit back right, fists balling up to your sides, “I don’t give you what you want and suddenly you start acting like a fucking asshole!” you seethe in return. 
“Me? The asshole? Maybe I’ve said some hurtful things to you, but you know that I love you. You know that I care for you. You completely gave up. You gave up on us.”Jungkook scoffs to himself, staring at you incredulously. “Relationships are built on trust and communication,” he states frankly, “and you broke that. I don’t owe you anything anymore.” When the words leave his lips, his mouth becomes dry. 
You pause, features scrunching in contemplation before you lick your lips and nod. “That’s fair,” you shrug, “Do you at least want to hear what I have to say before you go? For closure?” 
Jungkook's expression darkens. Closure? 
Despite his resolve to move forward, he has always subconsciously intended to hold onto his feelings for you. He understands that his reluctance to let you go would linger, but it stings to realize that you were willing to accept that so readily.
He inhales deeply, “I’m listening.”
“Um. Ok,” you uncomfortably glance around, the way his handsome obsidian eyes boring into your soul becoming too much for you. 
“You can’t even look at me.”
“I can!” you immediately counter, redirecting your focus solely on him. “It’s just- fuck- I don’t know how to say it” you mumble, fingers twiddling with the strands of hair that frame your face. 
“You’re a big girl. Use your words,” he states plainly.
“Okay! I can- just- can you stop making that face?”
“What face?”
“Stop looking at me like you hate me or something!” you pout, “It’s making me uneasy- I just want to talk to you like before.”
Jungkook’s expression softens at that, and he runs his fingers through his hair. No matter how cold or detached you become, you'll always be a baby, and he'll always have a soft spot for you. “Go ahead,” he offers. 
“I don’t know,” you begin, running your fingers through your hair, “After we- you know we,” you start to whisper, “slept together,”
Jungkook sighs.
You blink at him momentarily before beginning your digression “I realized we were moving too fast, and I began worrying about shit like how I would contribute financially to our wedding, if I would be a good mom to our kids, how people would view us as a couple,” you explain, arms instinctively crossing while you struggle to maintain eye contact, not missing the way Jungkook’s expression contorts. 
“And it wasn’t that I was super concerned about people’s opinions,” you explain, “I’m worried about being too childish for you. I want to be a girl that you’re proud to be with- super educated, successful, and pretty. That’s the type of girl you should be with. Not a girl who refuses to shower and smells her vagina juices in front of you,” you reason, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“And I’m not even trying to imply that these are traits you specifically care about. I know you love and accept me for me, but I’m not okay with it. I want to be good enough to be your girl, and the whole thing just made me feel so shitty about myself that I couldn’t take it anymore- and- and- and you know our age difference!” you wipe the snot running from your nose, maybe from the chilly weather or the emotions running through your system, “I said I don’t care about people’s opinions, but I don’t want anyone to think you’re a predator or something! Or that you took advantage of me after my parents’ died!”
You conclude your rant with a sigh, your entire body deflating despite the way  you scrutinize the tiny shifts in his facial expressions. His lips twitch up slightly, then he grimaces, then he frowns, but his final expression is one of indifference. 
“Okay,” he says candidly, offering you a small smile, “Thanks for letting me know.”
You stare at him owlishly, and he returns your impassive expression. 
“Umm, is that all you have to say?”
“Is there anything to say? I appreciate you letting me know, but I don’t know what to say either,” he reasons, “If you don’t feel comfortable about coming to me about your feelings, should we really be together? Maybe this was for the better.”
An uncomfortable silence washes over the both of you until Jungkook decides to speak up, a lot less angry and defensive from his demeanor towards the conversation. “You weren’t ready, and I get that. I would have waited for you, y’know.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Jungkook nods understandingly, picking up the hoodie he haphazardly threw on the balcony table before approaching you and draping it over your shoulders. “Thanks for coming over. You should get home now. It’s late.”
At his words, your heart plummets to your ass.
So it really is over. 
You guys talked things out cordially. He would be gone for two  years. There was no hope for either of you. You don’t realize that you’ve stopped breathing, and you inhale sharply, feeling as if oxygen has been depleted from your system. 
You don’t say anything, and you allow him to walk you to the front of his door. He takes a few steps back, still shirtless and hands in the pockets of his baggy basketball shorts. He motions his head towards the door, waiting for you to leave. 
You stand idle, blinking at him and scrutinizing him while he blinks at you. 
Your left hand adjusts the long glittery purse straps that sit on your shoulder. 
“Okay. Bye. Good luck in the military.”
He gives you an awkward smile. “Thanks. You know I’ll be okay.”
“Yea.”
“Get home safely. There’s traffic on the freeway from the lantern festival so take the streets home.”
“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”
You approach the door, looking back at Jungkook as you begin twisting the doorknob. “Okay.”
Jungkook shoots you a close lipped smile and nods. 
“Yup.”
“Yea.”
Jungkook watches you with an expression of indifference, shifting his weight between both of his legs. He’s not going to do anything, and he doesn’t think you’re going to do anything either.
“Okay,” he announces, slightly impatient, “Bye Y/N. Drive safely.”
You stubbornly shake your head. You can’t let it end this way. You stride towards him, your lips latching onto his passionately, kissing him deeply and romantically. He’s a bit taken aback, but nonetheless uses his large hand to grab you by the neck as he moans into your mouth. He kisses you back, groaning into your lips as he allows you to take the lead. 
You pull back to yank your oversized tee over your head, letting yourself feel his bare skin against yours. “Take me to the bedroom. Please,” you oblige. Jungkook looks at you, eyebrows furrowing deeply as if he’s angry but you know he’s not. He always makes that angry look when he feels conflicted. You run your thumb over his arched eyebrows to soothe him. 
Nonetheless, he grunts, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to the restroom. 
-
You wake up the next morning, Jungkook’s body pressed up against yours like a furnace. He holds you close to him, skin against skin, his chest against your bare back. You squirm within the confines of his tight embrace, eliciting a deep groan from Jungook’s chest. 
You wrap your smaller palm around the circumference of Jungkook’s wrist and tug. “Kook, wake up. You’re enlisting today,” you murmur sleepily. He grunts and squeezes you tighter, signalling you to shut the fuck up. You open one of his palms and put it right over your face before your lick his entire palm. Jungkook does nothing in response, just wraps his arm around your neck and pulls you so you’re lying on top of him. 
You hit him with your palms. “Kook, let me go!” He secures his arms around your waist and arms, trapping you on top of him. 
He ignores your wriggling and squirming, and just suction cups his lips onto your sensitive neck and sucks. You feel the sensation of his tongue running against your skin, and it tickles, but it feels good, and Jungkook isn’t letting you go. 
After a good few minutes of leaving hickeys along your neck, he flicks his head back onto the pillow and sighs deeply. “Okay,” he breathes out, seemingly refreshed. 
His gaze fixes on the ceiling, tracing the slow rotations of the fan's wings as they circle endlessly. 
You nudge him, “Jungkook? Want to get ready?”
He says nothing, just stares at the ceiling and you sit up, tucking your hair behind your ear as you gaze falls onto the stoicism enveloping his features. “Jungkook?”
His eyes dart towards you, and it’s like everything changes. He finally comes to his senses. “Y/N, get the fuck out of my apartment.”
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paddockgirlies · 2 months
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⸺ winter dates w/ max verstappen ♡ click read more for imagines!
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max invites you over during the winter break to spend all your time together
max suggests a thrilling day of snowboarding or skiing, his competitive spirit shining through as he challenges you to a friendly race down the slopes
you go skiing, as he holds your hand the whole time, as you’re a bit afraid to fall
after an exciting day outdoors, you both retreat to the cabin, where he skillfully starts a crackling fire in the fireplace, pulling you close
the evening continues with a homemade dinner prepared by you, showcasing your culinary talents with hearty winter comfort food, showing max how much you care about him
wrapped in blankets, you and max sip on hot cocoa or mulled wine, sharing stories and laughter in front of the fireplace
max proposes a moonlit stroll through the snow, the crisp winter air making the experience both refreshing and romantic, as he keeps holding your hand throughout
as the night sky sparkles with stars, max surprises you with a spontaneous dance in the snow, creating memories that will last a lifetime
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173 notes · View notes
spdrvyn · 7 months
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i love my husband — miguel o'hara drabble
fluff. heavy inspo on this video.
sorry for the inactivity and the lazy ass title, exam week came around before i could even start on the next request and i did nothing but relax the entire break (which was only FOUR days) so i'll bring this out and see if i can clear my sched enough to actually do shit. enjoy!
the moonlit sky reflects beautifully onto the shining surface of your mug, filled to the brim of chamomile tea and flooding your nostrils with delight as your body melts into the couch.
work kept you on the edge of your seat for the entire week, it was non-stop meetings and non-stop emergency calls even outside of your working hours that had you so stressed. you were sure you'd picked enough hairs out to make a wig.
the weekend is truly a blessing, you want to stay as far away as humanly possible from your phone and shut yourself out from civilization before you come protector of debra's last minute files.
you missed the soft cotton of your pajamas, not like you haven't worn them in the past couple of days but to actually be able to appreciate what it means to wear them and the greeting of a good night's sleep had you sighing and moaning almost a little too much.
you worked hard, you definitely deserved this. you grab a spare pillow and tuck it under your head turning to the side and looking at the city that surrounded you, your patience and tenacity at the office has now been rewarded with the view you're able to appreciate.
however, the shadow that looms over the carpeted floors of your flat don't go away even after rubbing your eyes. you look up and a faint red glow in the symbol of a very familiar spider catches your eye immediately, you smile lazily through the glass.
miguel slides open the door with no hesitation, cape still drifting in the wind from what you can only assume to be his own previous working activities. you can sense the tension wafting off of him like waves especially as he stomps all the way over to where you are on the couch and looks down at you.
his mask isn't off, he's still fully geared, and all you can do is stare back into those lenses.
that is until he surrenders, body giving up, and his body flops right on top of yours. it doesn't really surprise you, there have been times where miguel has come home after a worse day of saving the multiverse and traps you in a hug before you can protest or move. though you've never really seen him do this before.
he adjusts his position, but still keeps his arms tightly wrapped around you as you move as well so that you're holding him back. his face is buried into the crook of your neck and the feeling of his nose tickling your skin tells you that he unmasked already.
not a single word leaves his mouth, you silently adore the way he's melted into you already, the way the muscles on his back rise only to slowly fall again.
you don't want to break the silence, neither of you do. right now, the only form of communication that matters is touch. your lips burning kisses into his curls, your nose now erasing whatever of your tea was left and making the way for miguel.
he shies away from your touch with a small groan, "i stink."
a giggle threatens to break out from the back of your throat, as many times as he would insist that you'd keep going anyway. "so when you do it, it's fine? i see how it is then."
miguel chuckles, he inches himself into you further. deeper. his breaths become less and less shallow, it's clear that he's taking his fair share of sniffs from you as well. "because you smell good."
"i ran a bath, that's why." one last peck to his head and you opt to just comb his hair instead, running your fingers through the strands and observing as they twist back to curl after brushing it some more.
both of you stay like that for a while, not saying anything, not doing anything, just being here. existing with each other. you always find moments like these beautiful, even when miguel is probably one work call away from shaking hands with the grim reaper.
in miguel, you've found yourself open to so many new experiences and risks you could've never imagined on your own. despite the many amount of times at the start of your relationship that he'd give you space and wouldn't be mad if you left, you kept still by his side anyway. you knew that he was worth it.
in you, miguel found that mundanity that he's never had his whole life. passing out on the sofa on his own never felt the same, most times he'd wake up still in his suit and would have to go to work right after anyway. yet with you, the stress ebbed away over time because he knew that you'd always be waiting for him.
whatever historians had with their relics, miguel had with you. not to keep them confined in a metal case, of course not, but he felt as if you were to be revered. kissed and touched with utmost respect and you'd bring the people their good fortunes and long lives. you certainly did for him and miguel might as well be immortal now.
his hands wander, fingertips delicately grazing over the skin tucked beneath your nightwear. he goes slowly, traveling up to your chest where he—
"miguel?"
his hands freeze, face going red. the guilt of possibly going too far is ready to break free from his heart and consume him until he can feel your body trembling with laughter.
"since you apparently stink so bad, shouldn't you shower first before getting so handsy?" miguel pouts at your comment, he already had the apologies locked and loaded for you.
"just a few more minutes, corazón."
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staryosh1 · 1 month
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ིᶓ ☆ ᶔྀ ۪ Goodnight, honey. 𓂅 。 。 。
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human!Alastor x fem!reader (I don't think it's a fanfiction??😭)
warnings: alastor's death lmao, reader's pov.
wc: 456
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It's been two years and I still lay on your side of the bed, remembering your warmth and cologne that bathed the sheets. It's almost like you're here, but it's just the dark, stone-cold absence, Honey. The candle still shines on for the night, lighting up the memories that we've shared in this house. The forbidden words that still stings my lips, I remember it all.
The way you held my hand like it was made out of fragile porcelain, and laced your fingertips on the palm of my hand, igniting nerves to shoot through me, filling me with life and giving me air to breathe. It hurts to remember how you looked, Honey. Your hazel eyes that captured earth itself, those soft, pale lips that lay against your glistening, olive skin. The way the sunlight rested on your brown hair - how it reflected a halo around your hair. Your tender smile, how effortlessly you perk your lips up just the right way, the way it makes me melt into the ground and conform to the earth itself.
You knew me like we must've met in past lives. We were meant to be, right? As if my hands were made for yours, and my lips were fit for yours. Did it have to happen this way, Honey? You could've stayed. However, fighting is inevitable. Humans are naturally vile creatures, but being with you was like heaven. However, even the mightiest kingdoms crumble.
If I hadn't lashed those words out of my mouth, if you hadn't shattered the glass that sunk into my hand, if I would've held you by your shirt, crying at your feet to stay; maybe your picture would still hang on the naked, brittle wall. Screams and violent cries filled the room that was sacred to us. And you drowned my sobbing by occupying yourself with habits that you swore you wouldn't do, digging yourself in a dark hole that even God can't see.
Maybe if you hadn't gotten in your car and left to a place where I can't find you, you'd still be here. You'd be here holding me, drinking hot cocoa, and watching the fluttering snow outside our home as the stars dance and soak in the moonlit sky. We'd cuddle on the sofa, my nose snuggled in your chest, as I slowly slipped into a contentful slumber. The heat of the fireplace would gently roast our living room and everything would be perfect.
But I can't imagine the warmth and your whispers anymore. I read the stale, tinged newspaper one more time for the night. Tears drizzling down my cheeks as my eyes scan the headline: "The Famous Radio Host has been found Dead!". I blow the candle out and finally let you go. Goodnight, Honey.
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